A Different Dark Age

by dracademented

{COMPLETE} Every DxG shipper knows about Fire and Ice, right? Wrong. You only thought you knew before, but that was just a glimpse, a glamour. These are the hidden chronicles, the black scrolls. 'Tis a tale of darkness.

2. Beloved Knights

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Except, again, for Anton! He's mine, damn it! (cackles gleefully)

Responses to Reviewers: tkmoore, as always, love you to death, darling!!!! Sunday-Morning, ooooh, I just love you and your reviews! You're the best!!!! sexyjunkie, a goddess, huh? (snickers) Cool. Love ya! morphed, I'm ecstatic that you liked it, and I hope you like this part as much! (gives you small Draco replica to goggle at between chappies) Haunted-Shadows, awesome, I'm totally thrilled! You liked it, you really liked it! Yay! (glomps you endearingly) bigreader, no reason to beg, you know I love you!! sillysun, omg, your review had me cackling and blushing at the same time! I adore thee! lol Thatswhatyouthink, thank you!!!! me, this should answer most of your questions, lol. (smooches you for reviewing) coffeechick87, thanks, and here it is! hell-as-i-no-it, thank you, hope this was soon enough! Lithui, so we get to be whores together! Yay! lol otaku sae, in that other fic, it was Parvati. Blaise says her name at the very end, lol. Oh, and I adore you for reviewing, as usual! Meghan, thank you so much!! mell8, thanks! hope this was quick enough! entrancer, Anton's just a random side character in this, and no past is really needed. (read above author's note) But thanks!!!! Love ya! AnitaBlake/BuffyFan, thanks, glad you enjoy them! Icy Lullaby, yay, someone noticed the Halloween update! Love you to pieces, and thanks for reviewing this one! Psi, thanks, dear one! RebbeccaTurner01, whoo-hoo, go Richie! lol Glad you like, and…(smothers you with kisses and chocolate for reviewing) childofoceans, YES YES YES, you reviewed! How totally awesome of you! CrackingUp, oooh, you're awesome! Thanks SOOOO much!!!!

Author's Note: I just want to say, before anyone fills my reviews with it, that I am one of those HP fans that pretends OotP never happened. If you disagree with that outlook, I respect that, but please leave me to my delusions. I like the happy little castle of denial that I live in, alright?

Author's Note: Alright, I'm saying this once and only once. A few Slytherins in this story are OC's from one of my other stories, because I needed Slytherins and JKR simply doesn't supply enough. I could have just used random names, I know, but I didn't want to, and I'm the author, damn it! (pouts) So I can do that. But don't expect them to be in the same relationships or be exactly like they were in 'Unexpected', all right? Completely different story, lol.

Extended Summary (because this website hates me and wouldn't show it all) Every DxG shipper knows about Fire and Ice, right? Wrong. You only thought you knew before, but that was just a glimpse, a glamour. These are the hidden chronicles, the black scrolls. Three shall tell this tale, and heed their words, for the Hero, the Knights and the Queen do not lie. 'Tis a story of darkness.

Right, now onto the story!

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Fire played games. Deadly games. It was what she did best, the twins reflected. Because she did everything fantastically when she put her mind to it, and her mind made everything a game. It made sense if you knew her. But most didn't, they just saw their Queen, their goddess, and her madness made them love her more. And she was mad, but it was an ingenious madness, and the twins had only ever seen the same in two others. The King and the Molidon. And now another of her games was playing out before them, and as Harry screamed for the pain to stop, they remembered her as only they had known her.

Begin Flashback:

On small, silent feet, they crept through the noiseless house, knowing every board that creaked and how to avoid them from countless nights of sneaking out of their room and down the hall, then using their broomsticks to make it to the bottom of all of those winding stairs, because their mum had made sure that there was nothing silent about those. Bill and Charlie had been caught too many times going to meet some 'friend' of theirs, and Molly Weasley was quite sneaky when it came to her children. But no one was sneakier than the twins, except for their sister, who they were creeping out to look for in the first place.

It was late, almost three in the morning, and she'd never come and crawled into their bed as she did every night, dreams that she would never talk about in more than vague whispers dancing through her head. No one else knew about her nightmares, if that's even what they were, but the twins knew that if she hadn't shown up before an hour or two after midnight, then she'd gone wandering again. They'd tried to tell her that it wasn't safe, but she'd just smiled that soft, curious smile that only she seemed to possess, as if she knew a million things that they didn't, even though they were three years older than she was and less than a year from going to Hogwarts.

And there had been something in her voice, age beyond her own, as she had explained in low, velvety whispers that nothing of the night would harm her, that she was safer under the thick trees surrounding the Burrow (for she had never called it their home) than she was inside the wards around the house. She said the night spoke to her and they believed her, because she was different from anyone else they knew. So different that it shocked them, in a way that only children can be, that none of the rest of their family seemed to see the brilliant spark of something within her. They just thought her quiet, withdrawn, but she wasn't, and not even the adults around them knew it.

She would talk to them for hours as the stars spread their celestial light in through the windows or, on nights like these, the prickly grass and gray leaves around them. They talked about anything they found worth speaking aloud, and those older and more worn by life would have thought that the things they discussed so seriously were silly, but to them, they were not. After all, what could be more important than the things all around them, the things like trees full of sweet sap and flowers in so many shades that they dazzled the eye? What was more fascinating than all of the things that different plants did when you mixed one with the other in just the right way?

A witch or wizard's formal education didn't start until they were eleven, but for those children who grew up from the moment that they were born surrounded by pure magic, filled with it, many things were just…understood. Everyday seemed to harbor some new discovery, some new wonder, and their sister being one of those wonders had long been accepted and understood by them. So it was hard to fathom how no one else in their family seemed to see her value, her rarity. The twins knew all about how special and wondrous the purity of their blood was, they knew what it meant to be what they were, they knew that they were 'suns among stars'.

That's what their parents had always called it, after all, as they'd heard them tell their older brothers when expressing the importance of it all, even as they'd told them not to treat muggleborns differently than any other of their kind. Befriend them, love them even, but never, ever forget the importance of your bloodline, never fall in love with one. Even their father, who respected muggles and their inventions, did not want to see the old blood of his family die out, didn't want to see their name tarnished among the purebred circles with some smudge as that on it. 'I could just hear Lucius now,' he would grumble, and the conversation would come to a close.

But they didn't need to worry, because Bill and Charlie and Percy all understood what the twins and their sister understood. No one knew if Ron did or not, since he was so thickheaded that lots seemed to pass right by him unnoticed. But even the elder three didn't understand Ginny, and that created a larger gap than age alone could make between the brothers. Because the twins had decided long ago that anyone who didn't see what they saw was blind and stupid, and they despised blindness, for it seemed foul somehow, even to their young minds. And not the blindness of the eyes, but of the soul.

They just couldn't understand how their family, their pure, powerful family, couldn't even glimpse what was right in front of them, living day by day under their roof like a silent shadow until the curtain of blackness fell over everything and she was solely theirs for hours, spilling her secrets, which seemed so deep for one so young. And as she would speak, they would watch, fascinated, as that spark within her would flare and wane like a candle flame jostled around in the wind. She would glow when she spoke of their latest prank, which she usually assisted them with as their unsuspected accomplice, then flicker as she remembered a report on the WWN.

'A forest, this time in America, burned to the ground,' she would murmur brokenly; or more vehemently, 'An oil tanker in the Arctic, all of those whales and seals and merpeople dead, not to mention the other sea life, and the muggles don't even care! I hate them!', and they could do nothing but nod and agree, because they hated them for destroying everything that they loved, too. But then, maybe it wasn't real hate, not yet anyway. Maybe one could only experience real hate later, when you no longer carried childish illusion or hope but in the very core of you, where no one could see that dark, crushed place of all of those long-dead dreams.

But those introspections would only come later, and for now, the ten year-old twins thought of nothing but finding their errant sister. The moon was bright and full above them, but it soon became distorted as they slid into the trees with long familiarity. There was a clearing half a mile off, one that the three of them had found a summer ago on a hot, dry night that had seemed so stifling with heat that they'd been desperate to get out of the house with its crowded walls and faulty cooling stones. Making their way toward it, neither felt the need to speak. They were not always the cheerful, bubbling children that they were during the day.

No, the night changed them, made them see differently, feel differently.

Seeking their sister was routine by then, even though she was content to stay under their sheets most nights, her lips moving with flowing words so much more eloquent than the halting speech she used around those that she knew didn't understand her. Which meant their whole family. It was unsettling at times, when going somewhere public, because there were many witches and wizards out there who did understand, who did see something wild and strange and free in the little pureblood with the red hair so much darker than the others of their family, like the twins' own. And she would speak to them, too, in that smooth voice, though it lacked any affection.

No, her voice only held that particular emotion around 'her beloved twins', as she had started calling them. They had asked her what 'beloved' meant, for although they'd understood the core of the word, they hadn't understood its context. She'd smiled that odd smile again, her nose scrunching up adorably as she considered how to answer, and then she'd lifted one tiny hand heavenward and said, 'Beloved'. Asking her, again, what she meant, she'd stayed quiet for another moment, her head tilted to the side, and her voice had come out in that velvety way that resounded with age and wisdom and something eternally young.

'The night,' she'd said, and they'd listened raptly, 'the night is beloved, the darkness and shadows. The sky and the stars are beloved, for they are of the night, and they are black and silver, and I dream of them, I dream of black and silver silk spun 'round and 'round me like snakes. Our blood is beloved, our magic is beloved, the earth is beloved, and you are beloved to me.' And they'd understood, as simply as that, because everything seemed to make perfect sense once she explained it in her own unique way. Years later, they would realize what was hidden in those words, in her dreams, realize that 'silk' and 'snakes' had been euphemisms for so much more, not to mention...

But they were unaware of their future then, as they finally broke through the trees and into the small clearing with its trickling creek that had seemed like a miracle that sweltering summer day. And sure enough, their sister was sprawled out on the grass, her legs crossed and her arms spread wide to either side, her long, long hair fanned out in spiraling tendrils like a sunburst around her. The deep scarlet was almost black in the moonlight, black with silver highlights, and they were reminded of her words again. Black and silver; beloved. Well, she was most certainly beloved, with her eyes of charcoal gray, as if the two colors had been swirled into one.

She didn't even lift her head at their approach, knowing who it was instinctively, and they sank to the grass, one to her left and one to her right, lying down until they were propped up on their elbows, staring down at her. Her eyes were closed, as if she were soaking in the night through her very skin, but they opened slowly, so very, very slowly, and she smiled, one of those smiles that they cherished because it was real and not one of the many fake ones that she had already learned to use around the rest of their family. She'd discovered long ago that they didn't like her intense stares and calm countenance, so she smiled stupidly at them and twittered occasionally.

And it fooled them because they wanted to be fooled. They didn't want to acknowledge what lived underneath her skin, didn't want to acknowledge how those sparkling eyes could go so cold and timeless in the space of a single second. So they didn't see, they didn't acknowledge, and they stayed firmly in their happy little worlds. But the twins did, and they loved her even more for it. It was just another layer of the ripe magic that was everywhere, in everything, and that it had to do with her made it all the more extraordinary to them. Her smile turned into a grin, and they asked the question of her they'd been meaning to, one that only led to more later on.

"Your dreams, what are they about?"

"They…" She paused, that thoughtful expression crossing her face, as if she wondered how to phrase whatever she wanted to say, and then she continued, her words careful and somewhat confused. "They are dark, and frightening, and I do not understand the feelings that surface in me during them. Because my fear seems to make them all the better, it makes them…I don't know. Right, maybe? But they are full of blood and death, and I do not know why such things seem so appealing when my eyes are closed. And lately, even when they are open…black and silver…"

She said nothing more that night, and they left an hour before dawn, leaving her alone (or so she thought) so that she could mourn the passing of the night as she always did. But they always stayed close, to make sure that she was really safe, and that night, something happened that they'd never seen before. The leaves on the ground around her started swirling, lifted by a wind that they could not feel, only sense, and as their sister reached for the moon, for the fading stars, each of those leaves crumbled into ash as the first rays of the morning sun crested the horizon. And her eyes, for the barest moment, flickered like the fires of Hell.

They glanced at each other, for both knew that what had just happened should have been impossible, even for a witch like their sister. But then they realized that there was no other witch like her, and that she bent the rules of what was possible and what was not. They respected that, as they believed that rules were made to be broken, especially by purebloods such as they, and they knew, even as the last of the darkness became thick and almost alive, centered around their darling sister, that they would follow her anywhere. They also knew that the cold blackness around them was not Light magic, but that didn't matter, their parents' hushed warnings dying in their ears as they voiced the only part that was important.

"It's magic. Her magic."

End Flashback

They'd loved Hogwarts when they'd started, but leaving her had been horrific. What if she'd been hurt? Killed in some freak accident? Sure, they'd known all of that was highly unlikely, but then again, hadn't they seen the impossible happen before, always centered around her? So to ensure themselves that she was fine, they'd talked through the floo every night in the common room, and wrote her scroll upon scroll of all that they'd been doing, so that she wouldn't feel as left out as they knew she had. Waving to the palace guards at the door to let the hellhounds in, remembrance twisted along on its thorny, sinful path.

Begin Flashback:

It was when the twins were about to start their forth year and Ginny her first that everything shifted, and fate started moving forward. They had just left Gambol & Japes, the afternoon sun beating down on their heads and making everything look shimmery, and they were crossing in front of Knockturn Alley, wishing that they had enough time to sneak inside again, their hoods covering their telltale hair as they crept from shop to shop. But they didn't. The next time, though, they promised themselves, and they'd almost turned away when Ginny froze, her eyes locked onto something in that shadowed entrance, or rather, someone. Two someones.

Their faces were obscured by patches of the darkness that seemed to constantly coat that place, but the same thing gave them away that gave the twins and Ginny away. It was like that for the oldest of the old families, some special trait being passed down from generation to generation that had nothing to do with genes and science and everything to do with magic, unsullied, undiluted magic. For the Weasleys, it was their flaming hair that was usually so bright it was almost orange, but for a few exceptions like the three of them, in which case it was the color of blood spilled from a deep, deep wound. And then there were also their freckles, of course.

But for the two that none of them could rip their gazes from, it was their eyes and their hair. The one standing against the wall had hair so black it was almost cobalt, and eyes darker than any sapphire could dream of being. The other was standing right in front of him, his hands on the stone behind the dark-haired boy's waist, whispering something into that ebony mane. His hair and eyes were one and the same, metallic moonlight, and Ginny made some small noise, some small, almost helpless noise unlike any they'd ever heard from her. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed, and she looked half-terrified, half-thrilled.

But strangest of all for the twins was seeing sparks so similar to their sister's, and yet so different, shining within the two of them, nearly bursting through their skin.

"Ginny?" They asked softly, but her eyes never left the two boys, and they had that gleam in them, that gleam that they possessed only after she awoke from another dream, crawling up between them in the dead of night when most everyone else slept on undisturbed. But there was something else there as well, as if something had just clicked for her, and she spoke slowly, as if every word were delicious, delectable.

"Black and silver…blue and mercury."

They watched her change that year, watched something consume her, but she didn't speak of it in the beginning, and they didn't ask. They just made sure that she ate enough and that she slept peacefully between them in the dorm they shared with Lee Jordan, who never seemed to notice, and if he did, he wisely stayed silent. He knew how protective they were of their sister, he knew how close the three of them were, and he knew that the twins wouldn't tolerate any shit regarding her. It wasn't until one night when she came in with haunted eyes and blood on her hands that they realized what was going on. They wanted to help her stop it at first, but…

"It's so…perfect." She whispered, and they were enraptured from her very first word, as usual. "He explained it all to me, he explained so much, and it made sense, perfect sense."

And then she'd explained it to them, and it had made sense, because she knew just how to say it to make them understand. She always had. So they didn't stop her from setting a trap for their brother's friend, because she mattered more than any other and always would. It was somewhat startling when they realized that they would allow her anything, anything at all, but they didn't question it. So what if she had a mad glimmer in her eyes from the magic she was learning to invoke, teaching them to invoke? Their eyes were beginning to take on that glimmer as well, and it didn't seem to matter, because it felt so good that they knew they could never stop.

Never want to stop.

It was surprisingly easy to continue acting 'normal' around everyone else, except for Lee. He could see it, feel it, and he wanted some, too. So they no longer hid in empty rooms and hidden chambers, their dorm becoming their haven. Ginny rarely slept in her own anymore, and the other Gryffindor girls her age stayed clueless, because she was becoming quite the witch, and her spells and charms worked wonders. So most early mornings found them in a pile under the blankets, praying that the sun would disappear for just a few more hours, before Lee would inevitably roll off of the end of the bed after a stray foot in the ribs.

And then the end of the year came, and they waited anxiously in their dorm for her, having sent her off full of their magic to give her strength for the trial ahead. It would help her bring back Tom Riddle, and they'd aided her simply because she wished it so. But she didn't come back, and the hell following began. Their family had been clueless about her before, but then they started looking, looking for what they'd never allowed themselves to see. And while they showered her with sweet words and tearful kisses, their eyes were glazed with new perception. And the twins hated them for the first time in their lives, hated them like they'd never hated anything or anyone.

Dumbledore also looked at her differently, his twinkling cheerfulness falling away for the briefest of moments, something hard and calculating in those sky-blue eyes, as if she were some sort of monster, and that earned him their loathing as well. It was gone from his old face almost instantly, but it had been there, and they would always remember it. Just as they would always remember the whispers that summer at the Burrow, whispers about her that all three would sit on the stairs at night and listen to, whispers about something being wrong with her, something being twisted inside her, something being dark and strange.

Their family told themselves that it had only just happened, that it was the diary's fault, the Dark Lord's fault, but somewhere deep within them where they never, ever wanted to look too closely, they knew it to be lies. They'd tried to include the twins in on their accusations and suspicions, and the looks of revolted disgust that had been leveled on them had made them cringe with shame. But looks, no matter how venomous, hadn't stopped them, and something had faded in Ginny's eyes, something that made the twins want to kill every single one of those whisperers. For the three of them, their family died that summer, and they were all that was left.

It was a pretty delusion until they could make it truth.

End Flashback

And make it truth they had. Molly was dead, Arthur was dead, Bill and Charlie and Percy were dead, and the last of them was throwing up for all he was worth as—what was that mudblood's name? Calin? Collid? Something of the sort, anyway, and Ron was positively green. The color didn't suit him, though, not at all. It was probably the pumpkin-colored hair. Their eyes met Shadow's from where he held Harry, and they shared a knowing glance before his traveled to Ice and Fire and theirs followed. So much had changed since that glimpse in Knockturn Alley…

Begin Flashback:

Three more years passed, and the twins and Lee failed their seventh years in order to stay with her, because the thought of leaving her alone in that huge castle, with no one to talk to or sleep with, was utterly unbearable. And what did school matter to them, anyway? They didn't learn anything that they didn't already know, and the things that they were interested in and studied so secretly and passionately would never be taught at Hogwarts, not with Dumbledore as the Headmaster. But they did need a teacher for that, someone who knew what they were doing and could really show them all that there was to be found and enjoyed in darkness.

And Ginny, who was fifteen and one of those rare beauties that was just starting to morph into something beyond beautiful, found them what they needed, even if it was by accident. She came in one night, looking dazed and dreamy and terrified, her eyes darker than they'd ever seen them and glowing madly. Thinking that something had happened, that she was hurt, they made it within five feet of her before they stopped, feeling an invisible web of black energy pulsating off of her, out of her. They'd never felt anything like it, and they ran fingers over the air in front of her wonderingly, wanting to grasp it and clutch it and roll in it.

"What on earth…" Lee wondered aloud, trailing off as she pinned him with those eyes, and her voice was warm honey.

"Black and silver, blue and mercury."

"Wha—" Lee started again, but the twins cut him off.

"Sweet fucking gods." They breathed, everything suddenly fitting together, and she smiled a smile more radiant than any ever witnessed before by mortal eyes. "Malfoy and Zabini."

They'd been suspicious because of an incident at breakfast earlier that morning, but they had never expected anything to come of it like the look of growing adoration in her eyes, the deadly-edged smile on her face, the dark bruises littering her pale throat…No, they had never expected her to fall in with those two, two that despised them and their names and everything that their families stood for. Neither Malfoy nor Zabini would give them the time of day if they were dying right in front of them. In fact, if they were there to see it, then they had probably done it themselves. Gods, please let her know what the fuck she's doing, they thought desperately.

Because they could deny her nothing.

"Okay, I'm missing something here." Lee stated, one eyebrow arching. "What in the hell are you talking about? What do Malfoy and Zabini have to do with this?"

"Everything." Ginny whispered, twirling around and around in lazy circles until she fell upon her brothers' bed. "Absolutely everything."

"Riiiiight." Lee said in a consoling voice, then leaned over and whispered to the twins, "I think she must be drunk. That or she's completely cracked up."

"I heard that." Ginny scolded from her graceful sprawl on the crimson comforter. "And I'm neither, thank you very much. At least, not very, anyway." The last was followed by a short giggle, the tone of which didn't help her case against lunacy.

"Okay. But what do they have to do with it?" Lee asked again.

"Everything." That time it was the twins who spoke, and he turned to them slowly.

"Are you trying to tell me that there's some meaning behind this drivel?"

"Yes."

Lee sighed and sat on his trunk. "Fine. Now, will you please explain?"

"What do you see when you look at them?" The twins asked, and Lee's eyes automatically flicked to Ginny, then back again. "Exactly. But they are different still, are they not?"

"Yes. But that is none of our concern." Lee agreed hesitantly.

"They said that they will teach us." Ginny suddenly intoned silkily, and three sets of eyes returned to her swiftly.

"What?" Now the twins were questioning her out of shocked disbelief.

"They said that they will teach us." She repeated, sitting until she was propped up on her hands, that heavy hair falling over her face and leaving one eye to study them through the ringlets, the other still free and sparkling. "You know that we couldn't possibly find anyone better to do it. I don't think that there is anyone better. And I know that there won't be in a couple of years."

"But…" Lee started, his brown eyes startled and still considering, "But why would they agree to such a thing? They hate us, remember?"

"Says who?" She asked, a mocking twist to her lips. "Have they ever, even once, said or done anything to one of us personally?"

"No." They complied, still slightly reluctant.

"Then what's stopping us?"

"Ginny, they're…I mean, I know that we've been dabbling about in the Dark Arts, but they…" Lee couldn't seemed to string a whole sentence together, but they knew what he meant, because any pureblood with half a brain could feel the dark energy roiling within them, and Ginny's look hardened.

"If you don't want to play anymore, Lee, then just say so." She crooned, and he flinched before shaking his head emphatically.

"No, no, I'm in for whatever, you know that. I'm just saying that they're dangerous, Gin, real dangerous. If we do this, there's no turning back, because they'd kill us before they'd let us leave it all, wouldn't they?" When she said nothing, he asked again, his voice stronger. "Wouldn't they?"

"Yes." She intoned softly, her eyes defiant. "But if you're scared…"

"You're damn right I'm scared, Gin." He said shamelessly, because this was dire, menacing shit that they were fucking with, and he would be a fool not to be afraid. "I've heard things, alright? Sadistic, fucked up things, and if even half of them are true, and I believe they are, then those two are seriously depraved. How could we trust them not to kill us on some…some whim?"

"Because if they were going to do that, they would have by now. Unless you piss them off in the future, of course. But why don't you ask them yourself?"

As soon as the last word escaped her, the air seemed to split open and Malfoy and Zabini were just there, less than a foot from Lee with blades at his heart and throat. They thought he was going to faint at first, but the two Slytherins snickered and backed away, their daggers disappearing too fast for the eye to follow where they went. Both had chin length hair that seemed to be growing even as they stared at it, as if some glamour or another was falling away, and sable and silver soon reached well past their knees. Those deadly eyes seemed to look right into the center of them, where dark things were hidden even from themselves, and they smirked.

"So, Gryffindors finally want to play with dark magic again?" They asked, and their voices were different too, a sensual overload on the skin that made them shiver. They didn't know what to say, so they looked at Ginny, and the Slytherins followed their eyes. "Ah, of course. The intriguing Virginia Weasley made you do it, hmm?"

"Not made us, no." Fred replied, finding his voice, and George finished for him.

"Just…directed."

The Slytherins' eyes turned judging, sweeping over them, that ageless, infinite look in them that Ginny sometimes got in her own, and then they laughed, and showed them true magic. The twins, their sister and Lee learned from them from then on, every night spent in the bowels of Slytherin, deep underground where so many things were done that those sleeping right overhead knew nothing of, not even Dumbledore himself. They were surprised to see other purebloods there as well the first time that they had gone, purebloods from old families and separate Houses that studied the Dark Arts secretly and knew Slytherin as a safe-haven for learning knowledge of all kinds.

Since they were under blood oaths, Snape made no effort to hide his involvement, seeing as how no one could speak of it without a very nasty death before they even finished. Not that any of them would anyway, because the seductive lure of the darkness was too strong, too encompassing, and it tied them together more than any oath. It was like finding another family within those walls, a feral family that would protect you at all costs unless you betrayed them, and if that were the case, pray that the gods saved your pitiful soul, because you would be seeing them soon. And the Underworld was a bad place for blood traitors.

So they studied them, learned from them, befriended them. The latter they had thought to be impossible, but it wasn't, not once they'd proven themselves and their dedication to the Old Ways. And their sister, their beloved Virginia, was doing much more than just befriending two of them, falling hard and fast into their slithering snares. But hell, so were the twins. Just not in the same way that she was, not exactly, anyway. And Lee…Well, Lee had become quite obsessed with one of the Slytherin sixth years, a girl named Melody that had hair the color of snakewood and eyes greener than Harry's. And the twins had gotten another surprise, as well.

Because who was there every night, lounging on velvet pillows as if they'd always been there? Why, the prim-and-proper Patil twins, of all people. But they were anything but that down so deep in the dungeons, away from the prying eyes of those that just didn't understand. No, down there they were as wild and fey as everyone else, and the twins were seeing them in an entirely new light. They'd always been beautiful, but too snooty for their tastes, but now they were real, full of depth and mystery, and they were captivating. But not so captivating that the twins forgot about their sister, because nothing could make them do that.

No, they watched her, watched as she sunk farther and farther into an unseen abyss deeper than any that they, or anyone else for that matter, could reach. Except for the two Slytherins that had seduced her without even really trying, the two that had drug her that far down in the first place, down and down into that black void that can crush the mind if one's not careful enough, powerful enough. But they were, and they showed her, because whatever that brilliant spark that each of them possessed was, it tied them together in ways that no one could truly comprehend, even though all got the main gist of it.

That summer, they all took the Dark Mark, let it be branded into their skin in a way that had left them panting with wicked pleasure, and the…festivities that night at Malfoy Manor had been otherworldly. And it had not only been filled with those of them from Hogwarts, but hundreds of purebloods from the world over, the elite of the elite that were deemed worthy enough to merit an invitation. The twins could clearly remember the pride on the faces of the parents who had attended, which was most if not all but for theirs, and they'd felt only a moment of regret that the rest of the Weasleys would never feel the same, never give in to their true heritage. It was their loss.

And as for Voldemort himself, he was…different than they'd ever imagined. Virginia had been the only one to talk to him during her first year, but this was an older him, a wiser him, and they each loved him in their own way, because he made it damn hard not to. He'd put on shows about his cruelty to his own before in order to spread fear, but it was just that, shows. Unless he was angered, of course, but even then it was usually one of the first circle that ripped the offender into shreds. Voldemort was treated with the respect and devotion that was owed to him as a Dark Lord, that was owed to him as the one that would lead them back into an age of purity.

For who was purer that him, the heir of mighty Slytherin? Only three, four, maybe five families in the world could claim a lineage as pure as his. And they knew that he was pure because they could smell it, they knew that the rumors started by Dumbledore about him being a halfblood were false because they could taste his unmixed blood upon their tongues. And the twins, backed by their sister's lovers, opened one shop, their joke shop, in Diagon Alley, and another shop, one for them to…play in when they couldn't make it to Slytherin undetected, in Knockturn Alley. It also gave them a place to meet with other Death Eaters.

Their sister went back to school, placed into Slytherin where she should have been all along by a few pulled strings on the Board of Governors, which had long been in the Malfoys and Zabinis' pockets, and they still stayed in Slytherin most nights, since there were ways through the castle's wards to that glorious retreat. Padma and Parvati stayed with the twins both there and at their new flat in the wizarding section of Southampton (which they had to sneak out to get to), while Lee rotated as well in order to keep seeing Melody. They frequently visited Malfoy Manor, as well as the Zabini and Patil estates, and so many others that they could hardly keep track.

Virginia no longer hid what she was from the other Weasleys, becoming a Zabini, but the twins did, because that is what the Dark Lord wished for them to do. He wanted to wait until it would hurt them the most, and so did they. They still remembered the looks and the whispers, and they would make those who hurt her pay dearly. They had been shown how easy it was to kill, to end someone that they disliked or hated or didn't even know at all with barely more than a word and not so much as a twinge of guilt. But they had also been shown how to heal themselves and others, how to stitch up the mental and physical wounds that bled freely with patches of pure darkness.

Life was anything but boring.

End Flashback

The mudblood's name was Colin, or so said Hermione, who finally snapped and started screeching his name like a broken record. It really was quite distracting, and to top off the racket, Colin was a screamer. There was something nice about those pain-filled shrieks, though, something that made them want to slide their hands through the pool of blood underneath him and bathe in the scent of his fear. Fear was good; it smelt good, tasted good, sounded good, like sweat and wine and the frantic thrumming of the victim's heart as it raced inside their chest. The war had been good, too, as it had been thick and coated with fright of all kinds.

Begin Flashback:

The year came and went, and the war started for real. They had married Padma and Parvati months before, which had thoroughly delighted both families, though for very different reasons. So the night that Virginia showed up as planned on the front doorstep of the Burrow in filthy scraps of cloth and covered in bruises, it was no big thing that the twins and their wives happened to be there. Molly had gathered all of 'her flock' to her, as she called them, and it was the perfect opportunity to spy and make sure that they were all there for Virginia's appearance. They were, and the night went as it was meant to, their plans falling together seamlessly, as usual.

Dear old mum went mad, Bill, Charlie and Percy all died, and the others got to live with it. Let them whisper amongst themselves now, let them blame and accuse. It was earned that time. They had gotten their revenge, however heartless it may have seemed to some, but they had never claimed to have large hearts to begin with. They were cruel, they knew that, and they were more than likely completely evil, they knew that as well. But they were happy, and they liked who they were and who their friends were, and they wouldn't have changed any of it, not for anything. Darkness suited them, and they courted it wantonly.

But not as wantonly as Draco, Blaise and their sister did.

The three of them were cherished by the Dark Lord for their power and their velvet brutality, and with them at its head, the war started with a bang that seemed to echo on forever. There were no more quiet assassinations in the wee hours of the night, no more singular raids. They wiped the entire fucking world clean in little more than six months, and they started it all over again, they way it used to be, the way it always should have been. Virginia married Draco in a ceremony unlike any ever seen before, pleasures of every kind abounding that night, and the strongest, darkest powers in their world came in force to see such a joining.

It was one that they'd never thought to witness, due to the age-old, Malfoy-Weasley rivalry, but some things are simply destined, and they witnessed the binding of two of their oldest, purest families. Well, actually three of those families. Because Blaise, who had been the first one to See their union and what it would set in motion, and who had been adamant that they continue with it and 'stop bloody fussing over him so goddamned much', found what love, even love as dark and utterly morbid as theirs, could drive people to do as the newlyweds kneeled at his feet and asked him to bind with them, to keep them whole and not deny them half of themselves.

And what could he do but drop to his own knees, the smallest glimmer of something like wonder in those cerulean eyes that grew madder everyday? What could he do but accept and swear those lasting blood oaths before the gathered nobility? What else could he have wanted to do? Nothing, not even the twisted little games that gave him so much joy. And the twins were happy for them, because it was…just the way it should be. Almost, anyway. And then, one night in Dresden, Germany, Draco found Dumbledore. He, Blaise and Virginia had seduced three Ministers and snatched the old man's Secret Keeper, and they were barely, what, seventeen, eighteen years old?

All knew there was something remarkable about them. But they didn't know just how remarkable until Draco came back with the old fool's corpse and not so much as a scratch on himself, at least not physically. But those who knew him best saw the scratches, deep and ugly in the very core of him, and when they asked him what had happened, none were prepared for what he told them. He had broken into Dumbledore's mind before he killed him, sucking out his knowledge as a Dementor would a soul, and he had seen things, impossible things. And so they learned of the greatest betrayal they had ever known, one that they had never even truly considered.

For their Lord should have been above reproach.

But he was not, and it was quite devastating when they first heard of his true heritage. It was not rumors that Dumbledore had spread, but truth, and after the grief and numbness came pure, raging fury. But none, not even the older Death Eaters, matched the cold, cold anger of the Dark Lord's precious three. Something changed in them that night, something grew, and they called an assembly right there on the last battlefield, where they had achieved full domination of the world less than a night before. All came; all could not help answering that dark call, a call that, for the first time, was set in motion by someone other than the Dark Lord.

And they knew who set their Marks ablaze with pain and pleasure, they knew the three that were drawing them from all over to that blood-blanketed field, and so did Voldemort. He arrived last, those red eyes calculating and somewhat wary for the first time that any of them could remember, and it was also the first time that they gazed upon him with anything but pride. He had lied, lied, lied, he had betrayed them, and the family couldn't stand for that. Because in the end, the rules applied to everyone, since they only had one or two to begin with. His deceptive glamours were striped from him, revealing his impurity, and he was charged with treason and treachery against his own people.

It was punishable by death; real, true, complete death. The final death.

That is, if there was anyone strong enough to kill the one accused. Luckily for them and unluckily for Voldemort, there was. Those that had followed him and what he stood for more faithfully than any, actually. And they watched, they all watched, as Virginia, Draco and Blaise hit a new level in their power, one several shades darker than ever should have been possible, and that wretched fury spilled over and engulfed their one-time mentor and friend. They fed his fucking soul to demons in a positively grisly display, and every person on that field fell flat on their faces before them. In one night, the tables turned completely, and Old Royalty ruled once more.

That night, they became known as Ice, Fire and Shadow to all who still lived; the High Royals of the Darkness.

As Princes and brothers to the Queen, the twins were given their choice of the land they wanted as theirs, and they chose the British Isles; Ireland, Wales and Scotland included. Settling things there and leaving their wives in command, they went to their sister's side and helped her, her lovers and their friends erect the Seven Cities, and gods, they were magnificent. The Court formed, the Molidon was given his title, and the Dark Knights were selected carefully, eventually consisting of the twins and their wives, as well as Pansy, Anton, Melody, Lee, Sirius, Bellatrix, and three other former Slytherins, Sebastian, Daphne and Theodore Nott.

Their Dark Marks were bound to the Sovereigns and the Molidon, they had been ever since they'd overthrown Voldemort, but every free citizen alive had one of those. So the Dark Knights, after many complaints of wanting something of their own, were given different Marks. Tribal thorns done in black ink that shimmered green trailed down the sides of their faces, their throats, their arms and sides and hips and thighs and calves. The thorns seemed to dig into their skin, blood weeping from the wounds, and the Marks had been spelled and stabbed into their skin with the utmost care by the three that they served.

And there had been just a bit of wonder in the Sovereigns and the Molidon's eyes as they had done them, because their Knights had begged for them, and…

And the new Marks bound them, bound them heart and soul, forever, for eternity. It made Ice, Fire and Shadow's will their own, made their thoughts and feelings and desires mean more than anything, even the Knights' own lives. Had the High Royals told them to go to the tallest tower of the city and throw themselves from it simply because they wished to watch them hit the ground and listen their bones break, then they would do it in an instant, they would want to do it in an instant. But they hadn't been forced on them; anything but that for the High Royals' most favored. No, the Knights had pleaded for them, pleaded because to be closer to them was to be closer to heaven, their heaven.

Years passed quickly, and yet slowly all the same, because when things are perfect, life and time blur into one long picture of peace. They spent most of their days learning ever more about their magic, for the knowledge to be gained was endless when one opened themselves to it, and their time was split between their own land and the capital, Umbra. The Ice City was truly the most beautiful thing ever seen, in the darker days or the longer nights, by mortal and immortal eye alike. And as for immortality…Two years after the end of the war, they did it. The King, the Queen and the Molidon found the key, that missing element that allowed you to survive anything.

They tested it on themselves first, unbeknownst to any, and instead of just saying something, they spontaneously decided to try it out in front of the Court at dinner one night. Fire had later told the twins that she'd wanted nothing to do with it, since the only people that she couldn't bring herself to truly harm were her Bonded, and they couldn't have hurt her in such a way either. So they fought each other instead. They wouldn't let anyone else try out the theory, after all, and if one died, then the other would wish to go swiftly afterwards anyway, and Fire would follow in mere days. So it was risky, very risky, but they had to know, because they feared nothing.

That didn't make it any less fearsome for those watching, however.

They just suddenly, out of fucking nowhere, leapt from their thrones and attacked each other at the High Table. It was explosive and destructive, and none had been in the slightest bit prepared but for the Queen. The very ground shook with the collision of power, and the guards and the Dark Knights were lost, torn, because they had no idea what to do. They were sworn to protect both Ice and Shadow, and the King would have come first had it been any other, but it was instant death by the King's own word, which made it law, to lay a malevolent hand on the Molidon. And the Queen, whose command could have changed that, stayed silent.

The twins had never been so conflicted about any decision, but it swiftly became too late, as those that had never even raised their voices at one another simultaneously removed each other's heads. Utterly fucking horrified, the Court dissolved into complete chaos as Fire slid lifelessly from her throne, her throat splitting open of its own accord and pouring blood in a grisly beryl fountain down her chest. The twins were at her side in seconds, and no one seemed to be able to do anything but stare or scream as they helplessly watched their High Royals die. Their sister's lifeblood flowed quickly, so quickly, and the King and the Molidon lay in pools of their own.

Their blood was blue, bright blue, almost purple, as if oxygen had yet to hit it and turn it crimson, and it shimmered with hints of silver. Royal blood on Royal stone. Gods help them all. The twins closed their eyes tightly, trying to make it all go away, the denial and panic thick and thrumming in their chests. But then Fire's hands tightened into fists, her nails slicing through their robes, and their eyes shot open to see that hers were turning black, so black, the smoky gray within them surviving only in streaks, and they were shot through with red that flared like flames. Her lips parted in a silent gasp, giving them a glimpse of a tongue turned as black as those maddening orbs.

"Fire?"

But she wasn't paying attention to them, her gaze trailing over them as the hideous wound on her throat closed with tiny stitches of darkfire, and she crawled away from them to where her lovers' bodies lay in pieces. Few things could make the twins nauseous anymore, but watching her wrap those small, dainty hands in their hair before lifting their heads off of the floor did. But that ill feeling was shocked back into submission when they saw the eyes in those heads, the eyes that still held a deadly, startling intelligence, eyes that had changed as hers had changed. Silver cracked with black and blue, indigo fractured with ebony and mercury.

Each studded with the smallest specks of scarlet.

She sat in between where their bodies lay while the Court watched the rest of the macabre scene unfold in frozen dread, thinking that she was about to lose it completely when she realized what had happened. But they couldn't see those eyes like the twins could, they couldn't see the unimaginable sight that the twins were seeing. They all, however, saw her place those heads back upon the bodies' necks like one would dolls that had been pulled apart, they all saw those bodies jerk as a flare of pure blackness obscured everything for a heart-stopping moment, and then they were looking at the King and the Molidon again, both of whom had risen, their fingers running over their throats.

The only thing left of injuries vicious enough that they should have killed even them were traces of black stitches just like their sister's, expect they reached all the way around their pale necks. They looked like tattoos, like a ghastly reminder, and they were definitely that. No one forgot watching the three of them survive something that no other creatures on the planet could have, and the gift was given only to a very select few. But not a single soul knew how they had done it, nor would anyone ever. They became gods to their people after that, and no one threatened their rule. No one could. Only small groups of resistance remained, pocketed away and dying in holes.

Their lives were full of enlightenment and discovery, and they reveled in every moment of it, for the boundless pleasure to be had never seemed to have an end. The Court was filled with courtesans of every flavor and sex, humans and nymphs and dryads, pretty little things every one of them (whether by nature or by magic), and the most beautiful and exotic were kept solely for the nobles and the Royals. They adored their work, and they adored their payment, for all loved the black touch of the Sovereigns and the Molidon, and the games never stopped, ranging every hour of the day in different parts of the palaces and shops and homes in all Seven Cities and in the smaller towns.

Nothing was forbidden, nothing but treachery, but everyone was much too busy living it up and enjoying themselves to have anything to complain about in the first place. The people wanted for nothing, and everyone had adapted to their new world quickly, even most of the slaves. And the twins knew that within a blink of the time that would make up their lives, which would last for…well, forever if they wished it, the slaves would have lived so long that way that they wouldn't know anything else, like the house elves. Wine and drugs of all kinds flowed freely from hand to hand, from mouth to mouth, from vein to vein, and the darkness was the most favored drug of all.

Mix that darkness with a little neon orange spice, and you'd be up for days seeing the world in vivid shades of color, of flesh and blood, until every moan and scream was undiluted ecstasy and you didn't know whose lips those were grinding into yours, whose hips those were writhing into yours, and you didn't care. There was hardly a monogamous person left in the Kingdom, because most had long ago realized how much sense the Slytherins' view on it was. Fucking didn't, in any way, equal love. It was just simple fact that you could shag the shit out of someone and not give a damn about them as a person. It was also simple fact that shagging friends was even easier.

When you already cared for them, and when those you loved cared for them too, it made jealously almost non-existent. Many had thought the opposite at first, but it was truer the darker one became, and the affairs of the flesh were separate from those of the heart most of the time. So did it matter if it was Pansy underneath them instead of Padma? If it was Anton instead of Parvati? No. Because when they finally lay down to sleep, it was their wives curled around them sated and spent, and it always would be. Life was good, and it would continue to be so for ages to come. They could feel it in the air, in the land underneath their feet that throbbed with dark vitality once more.

A new age had come to Terra, a dark, fertile age. All hail the High Royals.

End Flashback

And gods, the earth was beautiful now. If they'd had to wait on natural re-growth, it would have taken centuries upon centuries to get it in its current condition. But they didn't, and Nature thrived, majestic and supreme. And it was ancient growth, not any of the newer, weaker, hybrid strands that had been caused by deforestation and pollution and the loss of magic coating the land for so long. But it coated it once again, and Nature woke for the first time in memory, responding and heeding their cajoling calls. Wait, what was that? They looked over at their sister, and nearly died from wanting to laugh hysterically when they heard that Sirius was finally being allowed in to play.

And Remus with him.

Begin Flashback:

Another year had passed before the twins ran into Remus one night a day before the full moon, sitting outside the palace in Mactabilis, the sixth Great City on the floor of the Atlantic. The moonlight didn't really reach him there, not that that stopped the change. But it was still a few hours from nightfall on the surface, and he was quite edgy, shredding grass into small wisps absently. He wasn't sick with a fever though, not since Severus had made a breakthrough with the Wolfsbane potion, one better than any hoped for. The transformations were fully controllable now, and it only took three months of taking the potion on the full moon to make that control permanent.

Sirius had been away for something or another, which he tried not to do on full moons, since they were the only time that Remus had to change. He could do so at will anytime of the month thanks to Severus's brilliance, and there were other side effects too, ones that would have been curses had they come into play years ago. Because werewolves with that potion in their blood had eyes that stayed amber and claws that could spring from their fingers like a shapeshifter's when they were annoyed or angry. It would have marked them as too obviously alien, too animal, had the Ministry and their stupid laws still been in power.

As it was, werewolves were as integral a part of their society as any of the other semi-human creatures were, and he could walk freely, with those wolfish eyes flashing, anywhere that he liked. Besides, he was the beloved of Sirius, and therefore held a high enough place within the Court. But they had never really talked to him before, and they couldn't help but notice how much better and younger he looked than he had the year that he'd taught them at Hogwarts. Sirius's magic had done that, since he was one of the few immortals and Remus had been bound to him months before. The only thing that belied his age was his almost-white hair.

They asked about his life that night, the waves casting shifting shadows over them, and he told them, either because he wanted to or felt obligated to or just didn't care one way or the other.

"I used to hate it, every second of it." He said, watching a school of fish dart by outside the wards above them. "I'd always known that werewolves were evil creatures, and I became one. I'd been taught to hate them, so I hated myself even more. I believed that the darkness in me was horrible, and I wished so much to be of the Light…until I met Sirius. People whispered about him even as they fawned over him, because of his name and such. It didn't matter that he'd been put in Gryffindor, because the Black blood outweighed that, and the purebloods…Well, we could all see it in him, just as they could see it in me."

The twins nodded, because they knew what he spoke of as well or better than any.

"James couldn't, though, and we never knew why. He was as pure as the rest of us, but he never glimpsed what so many others did, even Peter. Sort of like your family; pure but blind. But Sirius made me see that being dark wasn't so bad, that there was nothing wrong with what I was, and with him beside me, I was strong." Something crossed through those gold-tinted eyes, like a spot of passing shade, had there been any sunlight. "But then when Peter chickened out and ran away to confess everything to Dumbledore, when Sirius went after him and killed all of those people to stop him, I was weak, because he was taken from me."

There was no embarrassment in his voice, because he was just stating facts.

"I felt dirty again, impure again, and the following years were hell in the worst of ways. I had no pride without him, and I sunk lower than I'd ever dreamed in order to satisfy the wolf's…hungers." He said 'hungers' as if the word should have been capitalized, emphasized, and lit up with neon light. Their curiosity grew.

"What hungers?" They asked, and those eyes turned to them, full of something that intrigued them greatly.

"Flesh hunger, blood hunger, mating hunger, they're all separate and the same. They all demand to be satiated, and you have no will against them, you want no will against them. In that way, in the way of the hungers, we are akin to the vampires and a few other select beings. Because the hungers are primal and fierce, and if you do fight them, they will humble you until you find yourself in the streets with nothing more than a knife and the clothes that you're wearing, whoring yourself out to any who will fill that driving need. But now…now I do not hate it. Sirius has been returned to me, bound to me, and I control the wolf, though the hungers remain as strong as ever."

He stopped, blinked twice, and smiled a soft, feral smile. Oh yes, Remus had definitely embraced that evil wolf within.

"It is a good life, now. We are ruled wisely and my kind treated equally. We are free."

The twins, thoughts racing through their heads, knew only one thing. They wanted to know what it was like.

"Make us like you." They said, and Remus almost recoiled.

"Pardon?" He asked, watching them cautiously and somewhat nervously, as if he didn't think that they were serious, yet feared that they were.

"Bite us, turn us, but it make it feel good." They told him, and he shook his head, even as those animal eyes betrayed him. Oh, he wanted to, no matter how much he wished to say that he didn't. And the only reason he gave pause was because of who they were. Should they regret it later, it could go badly for him. Very badly. But they wouldn't, they just knew it. "That's an order, Remus."

And that set him loose, since he technically no longer had a choice in the matter, and he did bite them, did turn them, did make it feel agonizing and exquisite. They were jaguars in their Animagus forms, but feeling the wolf within them was something else entirely. Hungers, indeed. Severus was quite annoyed with them when they went to see him later for the potion and nearly ravished him up against his large, brass cauldron. Shadow's timely arrival was the only thing that saved him, and they still weren't sure if that was good or bad. Bad, because he'd escaped while the wolf was hungry, or fucking excellent, since Shadow was there, even though he was laughing at them.

But he stopped laughing when their new hungers overrode them and their full attention turned to him. He smelt of Ice and Fire and something dark and cold and somewhat dead, but hungers of his own rose underneath their hands, drawn out of him in a way that they'd never been able to coax them before, having lacked their own. And he knew how to deal with fledgling werewolves, because they were like vampires in a way, and he knew all about both species. So he let them feed from him because he loved them as they loved him, because they were family, and his skin was heaven given substance, his blood a dark fount of divinity that humbled them more than any hunger, even those.

They learned that night that when Shadow screamed in unrestrained ecstasy, you came right then and there, and kept coming as long as he kept screaming. They'd played bed games with Ice and Shadow before, but never in such a way, because they hadn't been able to without their own ravenous cravings. They were thoughtless during and mindless afterwards, so lethargic and gorged that they barely noticed Ice and Fire standing in the doorway smirking, drawn by their Bonded's release. There was something knowing in those smirks, something that said, 'You got a taste of the true him, did you? And yet you still do not know the half of it.'

But the twins were content, content with everything, and the full moons were a wonder each and every time. Every day was a wonder as they grew ever stronger in their magic, and as they watched their sister and her Bonded become ever darker and closer to being honestly psychotic. But it just seemed to make everyone love them more, respect them more, worship them more, because they were glorious in their growing madness, somehow more real than anyone else because of it. It complemented them like black complemented silver, and it made them stronger, deadlier, more ruthless, more loving.

They were everyone's everything; their word and will were law and scripture.

End Flashback

The door opened as Fire and Sirius bickered playfully, and the twins grinned as two more cloaked figures entered, their scents familiar and full of anticipation. They had been waiting a long time for the eradication of Harry Potter; they had been waiting a long time to witness his rack and ruin. Faces lost in deep hoods scanned the room, and upon seeing the twins' smirks, they came toward them and fell gracefully into huge, heavy chairs that were thickly cushioned. Each pulled a flame-haired twin down onto their laps while Padma and Parvati laughed quietly, shaking their heads as they continued brewing Wolfsbane for the new pups that would soon need it. Fred sank back against Lucius as George melded into Jeran, and they watched, recollecting.

Begin Flashback:

Five years after the war's end, the twins were back at the the Ice City in the Royal Chambers, lying around with their sister and the King, as well as the other Dark Knights, but for Pansy and Anton. Those two were with Shadow in Egypt, which now spanned across most of the African continent, looking for the last of the rebels. The last word they'd had on their whereabouts had come from Mist, the third of the Seven Cities, which had been built around the Great Pyramids. They had left the morning before with a group of Scouts, and they were expected back before sunset. A knock sounded at the door, followed shortly by the arrival of the Queen Mother.

"Good day, Lady Narcissa." Most managed to greet her somewhat cordially, considering that most were wasted and too busy with…other things, and she nodded shortly.

"How do they fair?" She inquired without any preamble, and Ice scoffed.

"You worry too much."

"Perhaps. But Silana's niece is one of those Scouts, and she worries for her when they go on these slave hunts."

"But not for her son?" Ice asked silkily, and Fire lifted her eyes for the first time from her examination of the smooth skin of Ice's thigh that was visible through slashed leather pants and the splits down the sides of his robes, a glimmer of interest showing in those dark depths. That was a dangerous question coming from those lips, and giving any kind of answer would be walking a perilous road, but Narcissa usually used that flowing grace that she was infamous for to glide around the cracks at her feet until she was on solid ground once more. Too bad she didn't that time.

"You know she worries for Shadow. But he is more than capable of taking care of himself, as you made sure to let us know." There was a hint of accusation in that tone, a hint that had Ice sneering and Fire snarling.

"Don't tell me you're still caught up on that." He said slowly, so slowly, that reckless, mad light beginning its familiar dance within his enticing eyes. "It was three years ago, Mother."

"You fucking beheaded each other, Draco!" Narcissa snapped, then immediately clamped a hand over her mouth, her forever-youthful face a mask of shame, while Fire's snarl turned into a growl at her Bonded's true name falling from any lips but hers or Shadow's. "Forgive me." Narcissa said before Fire could reprimand her, but the Queen's eyes stayed on her warningly. "I meant no offense. But it was quite horrid seeing it, like being stabbed in the heart—" She stopped abruptly as bloody holes appeared in the King and Queen's chests, her mask cracking and her eyes becoming huge while everyone else jumped up at once.

"What have you done!?" Bellatrix demanded, glaring at her sister accusingly as she went to her nephew's side, and Narcissa joined her, shaking her head and trying to speak without success.

"Not her." The twins said, watching their Sovereigns' eyes, which flashed the darkest of blues before turning utterly black as the wounds in their chests began healing.

"Blaise." Ice and Fire intoned as one, rising in movements too liquid quick for anyone else to follow. "Stay here."

Then they were gone, the first tendrils of their rage left wavering in the air, and the Dark Knights were furious at the command. They just received metaphysical heart injuries, obviously since Shadow had received the real thing, and they had left the best of their guard behind? What, exactly, was their purpose if not to protect the Sovereigns and the Molidon? Pacing the set of rooms liked caged tigers, they waited for what felt like a small eternity. Then, returning as quickly as they'd vanished, Ice and Fire stood before them again, angry energy rolling off of them so thickly that the others in the room fell to their knees instinctively.

"Rise." Ice hissed, and they did as they were bid. Fire's eyes found the twins, and she came to them, falling into their ready embraces.

"He shot Blaise; he shot him in the heart." She was murmuring, whether more to them or herself, they didn't know, nor did it matter. But they soon realized why she'd come to them this time instead of turning to Ice. "Ron fucking shot him, and I swear, I fucking swear that I'll eat his little mudblood's heart right in front of him for this."

"Shall we bring them to you?" They asked, their own fury doubling at the thought of their brother lifting so much as a finger against Shadow. Fire looked up at that, pulling away from them slightly, and there was something young in her eyes then, as if they were back in that clearing near where the Burrow used to be, alone in a night of stars and whispered secrets.

"No, beloveds, for we have already captured them and the other rebels. But your concern and loyalty is highly appreciated." She kissed them both then, her lips like hot coals, and the years melted away before swarming back again when the two Dark Knights missing from their number passed through the wards and appeared in the bedroom.

"Shadow has found Harry Potter."

End Flashback

"Shadow looks amused." Lucius whispered against Fred's skin, and he nodded slowly, pressing harder against the lean, hard, freezing-cold body behind him, offering warmth that the other didn't have on his own. Fingers so white they were almost light blue, just like his son's, danced up Fred's throat to wrap in his hair, and the twin's breathing hitched slightly.

"He is, and so are the others. Many have longed for the deaths of those held captive in this room."

"The last heroes of the Light, indeed." Lucius scoffed, one arm wrapped around Fred's waist, the hand of which was trailing sharp nails over his stomach through the cloth of his robes, while the other was still tangled tightly in his hair. Lucius played games, too; but tonight they were of a different kind then the ones making Seamus Finnegan scream as his skin boiled and sloughed off as if he were being cooked alive. Slowly.

No, tonight Lucius wished to play a different game. Both were about dominance and submission, but Fire's was all about pain and agony while Lucius's was of a more carnal variety. Fred knew it by the added tightness of the hold on his hair, by the tautness of the muscles in the chilled body molded against him, by the scent on Lucius's skin. And when he heard the first tiny rips in the velvet covering his body, those icy nails biting into his flesh, Fred decided that he would play, too. Lucius was in a mood about something, and whether he'd been fighting with Narcissa or was just excited over the spectacle being made of Harry, it didn't matter.

Because tension of any kind in the Court was undesirable. Therefore, the Dark Knights and the Royals…looked after each other, and they did whatever they could to help. If someone had angered them, then they found them and killed them. If someone had annoyed them, then they'd fuck it all better. If they were just salacious, then they did the same. Simple. And it did wonders at keeping everyone calm and languid. And when you had a Court full of dark witches and wizards and there were no wars to be fought, you definitely wanted to keep everyone calm. Because it wouldn't be any fun at all to have to go from city to city everyday policing internal squabbles.

And sure, the lesser nobles and members of the Court dueled all the time for higher positions, for a chance to prove themselves to the upper crust of their society, just as the slaves dueled in the arena to keep the nobles entertained and to try and win a month or two of controlled freedom. It was a huge risk for a slave to step onto that field of sand in the center of the coliseum, because if they lost, it was not freedom they gained, but a few months in the Menagerie, or the 'feeding pool' as they murmured amongst themselves. Few survived their time there whole and sane. But now Lucius was tense, so tense, and they were both Royal, so it was all right to play.

And if there was any unspoken rule about who one could fuck and who one could not, it was to never sleep below your station. The Royals and the Dark Knights were classed together, along with their Bonded; the first and second circles were classed together, with theirs as well, and so forth. The only exceptions were when they had group entertainments with the slaves, or if it was one of the Royal courtesans. But if you chose pick a lifemate, then your options opened up quite a bit more, extending to any that were of unmixed blood, no matter their station. The High Royals had said that love would be the one thing they wouldn't hinder in any way as long as it stayed pure.

But you'd better be damn sure that they were the one you would be saying those soul vows to, because if you bred with a lower class subject and didn't marry, then you were in deep shit. For instance, say Marcello got Pansy pregnant. Everything would be peachy and the people would rejoice another addition to the High Court. But if he got some servant or village girl pregnant and didn't wed them, he would be seeing the nasty side of the Molidon's temper, since it was Shadow who upheld that particular decree. And if you were already bound to someone, then to sleep outside of your station at all was forbidden, because it was insulting to the one you'd tied yourself to.

Like if Sirius got Melody pregnant, it would be fine, because neither Remus nor Lee would care due to who the other parent was. But if Sirius got some little nameless fuck from the fourth circle pregnant, Remus, in shame, would stay away for five hundred days and five hundred nights, before he formally decided whether or not to stay with his Bonded. Meanwhile, the girl's name would be ruined, since one couldn't sleep with someone like Sirius and not know who it was and who they were sworn to. Blood was everything, bowing only to love even in the High Royals' minds, and if it wasn't a child of pure love, then it had better be a child of one of the strongest bloodlines available to you.

"I do not think that they are heroes." Fred purred, tilting his head back as cold lips and teeth nipped at the warm flesh of his neck while fingers brushed over his erection. "All they have been since the war's end are walking corpses that were lucky enough, or unlucky enough, to still be breathing at all. They are nothing."

"It is still so refreshing to hear such things from the sweet lips of a Weasley once more." Lucius commented idly, his eyes on Dean Thomas as he was carefully dissected, each piece removed with gentle fingers and held up for inspection before being placed in sealed potion jars, even as his hands were all for Fred, one still holding him in place and the other wrapping around his length through the heavy velvet.

"Ah, but I am not a Weasley, remember?" Fred teased, making a small noise in the back of his throat that he knew would drive Lucius half-mad as the fingers in his hair tightened even farther, delicious, stinging pain spreading over his scalp and crawling down the back of his neck. Grinding back against the other as the slender, elegant fingers around him gripped hard enough to throw in a little pain with the pleasure, a throaty moan had him glancing over at his twin. Apparently, Jeran had been in a mood as well.

"Forgive me." Lucius crooned, a wet tongue darting out to soothe a fresh bite mark on Fred's creamy skin. "As a brother of the Queen, you are most certainly not a Weasley any longer. Zabini suits you better, anyway."

"And what would suit you this night? For you are restless when you are usually listless. Has something upset you?" His question, which was their way of asking who needed to pay for it, was followed by a degenerate moan of his own, and his fingers dug into Lucius's thighs hard enough to bruise that pale, pale skin.

"So debauched, so beautiful." Lucius breathed, staring down the lithe line of Fred's writhing body. "But no one, not even you, dear Prince, can save me from Jeran's stubbornness. It shall be something I must live with for all time. And since I cannot kill him, and fucking doesn't seem to shut him up for long, I've become a little…frustrated."

"So you decided to come watch the death of the Boy Wonder's soul while dry-fucking me in front of him?" Every few words were followed by a low, heated whimper and a grinding of hips, because Fred knew exactly how to get Lucius off. And he didn't mind playing the whore for him now, because their roles would be reversed later, and then flipped back again, and again, and again…As long as you were equals, or damn close to it, anything was game without any kind of shame. It was all just flesh and ecstasy.

The story of their lives.

That thought brought a wicked smile to his lips before his teeth were digging into them again as Lucius suddenly bit him for real, and it hurt, it hurt so fucking bad, and he loved every second of it. Blood stained pale lips when Lucius pulled back and kissed him, smearing and shockingly bright against their pearly-white skin, and he was coming when Fire, growing bored, gave the Golden Hero a chance to win the lives of his three remaining friends. Elated and laughing quietly, Fred met his twin's eyes, and they shared a knowing look. 'A chance to win their lives', indeed. She was up to something; something cruel and malignant and merciless.

Fire played deadly, deadly games.

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Hehehehe…Hope you guys liked it, and if you love me at all, REVIEW or I shall die. And if I die, there's no next chapter. So there. lol