I find myself astounded that I managed fifty chapters.
Finn - *snickers* Mwehehe, their search has hit a bit of a...
four-foot thick steel-enforced concrete wall.
Lady Russell Holmes - Uh... yes? Honestly, I don't know yet. Which is
why this chapter ends the way it does.
Bryt - I have special plans for Nate, and not one of them involves
slashing him with Blaise. He's to cute to slash ^__^ A little bit of
budding friendship, though... that's okay. Lily doesn't want anyone to
see the pages because... hey, wait, I'm not going to spoil it for you!
guess - She's not Sailormoon. It's actually the winter uniform for
Kaibara High School (Fruits Basket). I haven't decided if she was
dressed as Tohru, Uotani, or Hanajima yet, just that she was wearing
the uniform.
Shila - Here you are, more!
Phoenix Flight - No worries, no slashie in this fic. Maybe in another
one, but not this one. Like I told Bryt, I've got special plans for
Nate, mwahahahahahaha~
Black Rose - I already told guess what anime the uniform is from. I
don't know why I put it in... probably spent way to much time listen
to Leigh rant about how annoying making that uniform is (she's a big
time cosplayer)
Kennan - Hermione found... black stones. They do have a point, that
will become clear only at some undeterminable point in the future.
^__^
Flummox - Rabbit-Fu! I'll probably go into it more next chapter. That
is a funny image, though; Bunny-Nate, Thumping monsters to death!
Come, see it in theaters!
Lirael - Do I want to know how Sauron got into Riddle's head?
Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling
---
Blackened Sunrise
Chapter Fifty : Complications
The Itch
---
Cornelius Fudge paced the floor of his office, nervously. He'd locked
the doors and windows with the strongest locking spells he knew, and
even shoved his desk in front of the door, all to prevent entry.
He was utterly terrified.
Not only had his bodyguard up and vanished-- leaving only a chilling
prediction of Fudge's destruction and death-- but he'd received a
letter from an outside source; and he had no idea who it was. Nor did
he know how this other had gotten into his office. Therefore, he
boarded up his office, hiding within the room, and praying for his
life. He didn't want to die.
He summoned a cup of coffee-- black-- sipping at it, his bloodshot
eyes darting to and fro in the cramped office.
Cornelius was driving himself insane with paranoia.
---
Nate pretty much slept completely through the following day, only
awakening when Zabini trudged back to the cot after a tiring session
of training with Thomas-- said Gryffindor having bailed out to go
sleep in the dorm rooms, as well as explain to Lavender and Pavarti
where the two boys had been. Sleepily, the multi-hued rabbit cracked
open an umber eye, staring up into the face of his Slytherin
companion, "Morn'red'ye?" he muttered, blinking blurrily.
"Night, actually," the druid chuckled, "you might as well just go
back to see, Nate."
"Sokay..." he mumbled, unconsciously snuggling in closer to his
living pillow as the rabbit fell back into a calm slumber. Zabini, on
the other hand, lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling of the
training center, eyes unfocused. His fingers brushed lightly through
blue, purple, red and white fur without conscious effort, the other
hand tucked up behind his head.
He wondered at the relationship between Calaveras and Schlatter.
Before Schlatter's suicide, neither would have admitted to being
friends, even if their insults and tormenting were all in good fun.
But after... Nate proclaimed the infuriating Slytherin as his best
friend. Nate was utterly broken over his friend's death; more so than
Blaise had thought someone could be from such a thing.
Did he consider Nathaniel his friend? Did Nate consider Blaise a
friend? Were they enemies or acquaintances?
And what about Draco? The Living Weapon and the musician had
sequestered themselves up in that classroom from time to time, using
muggle music to pour out their emotions. Was Nate friends with Draco,
and vice versa? Or were they just using each other as a way to get
back on to their own feet? It was rather confusing.
It was also confusing the way Nate's emotions could jump from one
extremity to the other in seconds. One moment he was happy-go-lucky,
the superstar guitarist, the smirking, pranking liaison between
Weapon and Ministry, and the next he was the dreary, depressed, guilt-
ridden teenager who didn't know the meaning of his own existence.
Blaise rolled over onto his side, careful to keep Nate tight against
his belly, but without disturbing the rabbit's sleep.
He have to think about this more.
Tomorrow, though.
He was really tired right now.
---
Lily and Harry were still holding their stupid staring contest.
Hermione and Draco were getting bored.
They'd searched the room, finding more and more of those dark stones
in the old runes, wondering what each of them did. Both teenagers had
at least ten in hand, but they had no idea what the sparkling stones
had been made for. It was rather confusing to say the least.
"Here's another," the tired pale haired male grumbled, using his
claws to yank it out of the wall. As he did so, he was surprised to
hear Lily laugh.
"It's about damned time!" she crowed, clapping her hands, "If you
three can make it back here, the pages are all yours. If not," she
shrugged, "I really don't care. Bye-bye." The echo waved, the Weapons
and the Enchantress turning to ask her what the hell she was talking
about when the stones in Draco and Hermione's hands flared with
brilliant, ruby light.
When it faded, the echo buffed her nails on her robe, "Well then.
That settles that." and smiled.
---
When Draco managed to blink the light out of his sensitive draconic
eyes, he found himself standing somewhere he didn't exactly picture
himself ever standing in.
A muggle high school.
American, if he was right about the clothing style. Before any one of
the students could so much as bat an eye at his dress, he'd yanked on
his sash, untying it swiftly, and allowing his wizarding robes to
fall open like one of those muggle 'dusters'. He knew the clothing
beneath didn't exactly fit in, but it fit in better than the robe.
He was dressed in a black t-shirt he'd jacked from Harry's trunk, and
a pair of dragon-hide pants, with a pair of thick dragon scale boots.
Hey, just because he was part dragon now didn't mean he couldn't wear
the clothing he already owned that was made of the scales.
Draco began to pad down the hallway, a being of ethereal grace, the
students automatically, and unconsciously, parted to allow the
predator in their midst to move without hindrance. As it should be,
mused the pureblood.
As he wondered the reason that he was here, he never noticed the
stones still in his palm pulse briefly with light.
---
Hermione pulled herself out of the daze she'd found herself in,
wondering exactly was what going on; which came to an abrupt halt,
when she realized exactly where she was. That there was no way out,
and no way in. Magic must have been used.
Which meant this maze could quite possibly be magic, as well. This...
was not good. She didn't bother to look at the stones in her hand,
instead shoving them into the pocket of her robe, and etching a light
rune into the air with her athame.
The Enchantress knew something was wrong almost immediately. No light
lit the air as the rune was made. There was no gentle glowing ball of
light that would hover over her head and guide her way. She was
powerless, and in the dark. Nervously, she returned the athame to
it's sheath on her arm, and pulled her wand from her other pocket.
"Lumos," she muttered, and nothing happened. She continued, louder
and louder, until she was almost shrieking the spell. Still, nothing.
Sighing, she returned the wand to her pocket, and lifted her hand to
rub at her raw throat. So, she was in a null magic zone.
That meant she was on her own.
God dammit.
---
"What an unusual fellow..."
"Aside from the skin, he almost looks like one of us."
"Indeed, indeed. How much do you think he'd fetch?"
"Ninety gold?"
"He can't possibly be worth that much," the first voice snapped
angrily. They probably would have continued to argue, had Potter not
gotten annoyed with them interrupting his magically induced nap, but
snaking his tail up and thumping the both in the stomach with it.
An emerald eye cracked open, "Shut the bloody hell up and let me
sleep," he growled angrily.
"Not a very well trained pet, is he?" wheezed one of the men, and
Harry's night-vision gave him an interesting view of the fellow. Dark
black skin, almost hinting upon blue, with crimson eyes, and silver-
white hair. His ears were pointed and narrow, and Potter recognized
the features of one of the high elves. But which breed was it that
had such dark skin...?
"Not at all. He'll need to be retrained," the other man, who's skin,
eyes and hair were the same color as the other's, reached out,
grabbing hold of the chain still attached to the collar around
Harry's neck. He'd never bothered to remove it.
He did bother to remove the elf's hand, however, when he tried to
force Potter onto his feet. Howling with pain, the dark one feel
back, staring at his stump. Annoyed that his nap had been
interrupted, and that he wouldn't be able to roll over and go back to
sleep, Harry stood up, short compared to the elegance of the elves.
"Why you little..." the other man's cursing trailed off as Harry's
form swelled seven feet, and his back split to allow the two sets of
wings through flicking blood from the feathered tips of his larger
set. Cold, silver eyes stared down at the now shorter elf.
Weapon's voice was chill in it's lack of emotion, "I would reconsider
your next words, _elf_. There is no one that controls myself or my
other. You would do well to remember that the Living Weapons are self-
sufficient."
"Li... li... Living Weapon?" wheezed the stunned man, stumbling
backwards, "No... no, it's impossible! Scimitar is the only Living
Weapon! No other exists!"
Weapon's eyes glowed with the Power in the darkness of the Drow
tunnels, a surprising smirk curving his lips in a chilly manner. To
the frightened dark elf, he looked as one of their deities would look
when angered.
---
End Chapter
I'm nice, aren't I?
Black Rose, M'dear, Draco is all yours to play with-- I just need to
grab him back at some time, so I can get them their pages. For now,
I'll just goof around with Hermione, Harry, Blaise and Nate.
Finn - *snickers* Mwehehe, their search has hit a bit of a...
four-foot thick steel-enforced concrete wall.
Lady Russell Holmes - Uh... yes? Honestly, I don't know yet. Which is
why this chapter ends the way it does.
Bryt - I have special plans for Nate, and not one of them involves
slashing him with Blaise. He's to cute to slash ^__^ A little bit of
budding friendship, though... that's okay. Lily doesn't want anyone to
see the pages because... hey, wait, I'm not going to spoil it for you!
guess - She's not Sailormoon. It's actually the winter uniform for
Kaibara High School (Fruits Basket). I haven't decided if she was
dressed as Tohru, Uotani, or Hanajima yet, just that she was wearing
the uniform.
Shila - Here you are, more!
Phoenix Flight - No worries, no slashie in this fic. Maybe in another
one, but not this one. Like I told Bryt, I've got special plans for
Nate, mwahahahahahaha~
Black Rose - I already told guess what anime the uniform is from. I
don't know why I put it in... probably spent way to much time listen
to Leigh rant about how annoying making that uniform is (she's a big
time cosplayer)
Kennan - Hermione found... black stones. They do have a point, that
will become clear only at some undeterminable point in the future.
^__^
Flummox - Rabbit-Fu! I'll probably go into it more next chapter. That
is a funny image, though; Bunny-Nate, Thumping monsters to death!
Come, see it in theaters!
Lirael - Do I want to know how Sauron got into Riddle's head?
Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling
---
Blackened Sunrise
Chapter Fifty : Complications
The Itch
---
Cornelius Fudge paced the floor of his office, nervously. He'd locked
the doors and windows with the strongest locking spells he knew, and
even shoved his desk in front of the door, all to prevent entry.
He was utterly terrified.
Not only had his bodyguard up and vanished-- leaving only a chilling
prediction of Fudge's destruction and death-- but he'd received a
letter from an outside source; and he had no idea who it was. Nor did
he know how this other had gotten into his office. Therefore, he
boarded up his office, hiding within the room, and praying for his
life. He didn't want to die.
He summoned a cup of coffee-- black-- sipping at it, his bloodshot
eyes darting to and fro in the cramped office.
Cornelius was driving himself insane with paranoia.
---
Nate pretty much slept completely through the following day, only
awakening when Zabini trudged back to the cot after a tiring session
of training with Thomas-- said Gryffindor having bailed out to go
sleep in the dorm rooms, as well as explain to Lavender and Pavarti
where the two boys had been. Sleepily, the multi-hued rabbit cracked
open an umber eye, staring up into the face of his Slytherin
companion, "Morn'red'ye?" he muttered, blinking blurrily.
"Night, actually," the druid chuckled, "you might as well just go
back to see, Nate."
"Sokay..." he mumbled, unconsciously snuggling in closer to his
living pillow as the rabbit fell back into a calm slumber. Zabini, on
the other hand, lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling of the
training center, eyes unfocused. His fingers brushed lightly through
blue, purple, red and white fur without conscious effort, the other
hand tucked up behind his head.
He wondered at the relationship between Calaveras and Schlatter.
Before Schlatter's suicide, neither would have admitted to being
friends, even if their insults and tormenting were all in good fun.
But after... Nate proclaimed the infuriating Slytherin as his best
friend. Nate was utterly broken over his friend's death; more so than
Blaise had thought someone could be from such a thing.
Did he consider Nathaniel his friend? Did Nate consider Blaise a
friend? Were they enemies or acquaintances?
And what about Draco? The Living Weapon and the musician had
sequestered themselves up in that classroom from time to time, using
muggle music to pour out their emotions. Was Nate friends with Draco,
and vice versa? Or were they just using each other as a way to get
back on to their own feet? It was rather confusing.
It was also confusing the way Nate's emotions could jump from one
extremity to the other in seconds. One moment he was happy-go-lucky,
the superstar guitarist, the smirking, pranking liaison between
Weapon and Ministry, and the next he was the dreary, depressed, guilt-
ridden teenager who didn't know the meaning of his own existence.
Blaise rolled over onto his side, careful to keep Nate tight against
his belly, but without disturbing the rabbit's sleep.
He have to think about this more.
Tomorrow, though.
He was really tired right now.
---
Lily and Harry were still holding their stupid staring contest.
Hermione and Draco were getting bored.
They'd searched the room, finding more and more of those dark stones
in the old runes, wondering what each of them did. Both teenagers had
at least ten in hand, but they had no idea what the sparkling stones
had been made for. It was rather confusing to say the least.
"Here's another," the tired pale haired male grumbled, using his
claws to yank it out of the wall. As he did so, he was surprised to
hear Lily laugh.
"It's about damned time!" she crowed, clapping her hands, "If you
three can make it back here, the pages are all yours. If not," she
shrugged, "I really don't care. Bye-bye." The echo waved, the Weapons
and the Enchantress turning to ask her what the hell she was talking
about when the stones in Draco and Hermione's hands flared with
brilliant, ruby light.
When it faded, the echo buffed her nails on her robe, "Well then.
That settles that." and smiled.
---
When Draco managed to blink the light out of his sensitive draconic
eyes, he found himself standing somewhere he didn't exactly picture
himself ever standing in.
A muggle high school.
American, if he was right about the clothing style. Before any one of
the students could so much as bat an eye at his dress, he'd yanked on
his sash, untying it swiftly, and allowing his wizarding robes to
fall open like one of those muggle 'dusters'. He knew the clothing
beneath didn't exactly fit in, but it fit in better than the robe.
He was dressed in a black t-shirt he'd jacked from Harry's trunk, and
a pair of dragon-hide pants, with a pair of thick dragon scale boots.
Hey, just because he was part dragon now didn't mean he couldn't wear
the clothing he already owned that was made of the scales.
Draco began to pad down the hallway, a being of ethereal grace, the
students automatically, and unconsciously, parted to allow the
predator in their midst to move without hindrance. As it should be,
mused the pureblood.
As he wondered the reason that he was here, he never noticed the
stones still in his palm pulse briefly with light.
---
Hermione pulled herself out of the daze she'd found herself in,
wondering exactly was what going on; which came to an abrupt halt,
when she realized exactly where she was. That there was no way out,
and no way in. Magic must have been used.
Which meant this maze could quite possibly be magic, as well. This...
was not good. She didn't bother to look at the stones in her hand,
instead shoving them into the pocket of her robe, and etching a light
rune into the air with her athame.
The Enchantress knew something was wrong almost immediately. No light
lit the air as the rune was made. There was no gentle glowing ball of
light that would hover over her head and guide her way. She was
powerless, and in the dark. Nervously, she returned the athame to
it's sheath on her arm, and pulled her wand from her other pocket.
"Lumos," she muttered, and nothing happened. She continued, louder
and louder, until she was almost shrieking the spell. Still, nothing.
Sighing, she returned the wand to her pocket, and lifted her hand to
rub at her raw throat. So, she was in a null magic zone.
That meant she was on her own.
God dammit.
---
"What an unusual fellow..."
"Aside from the skin, he almost looks like one of us."
"Indeed, indeed. How much do you think he'd fetch?"
"Ninety gold?"
"He can't possibly be worth that much," the first voice snapped
angrily. They probably would have continued to argue, had Potter not
gotten annoyed with them interrupting his magically induced nap, but
snaking his tail up and thumping the both in the stomach with it.
An emerald eye cracked open, "Shut the bloody hell up and let me
sleep," he growled angrily.
"Not a very well trained pet, is he?" wheezed one of the men, and
Harry's night-vision gave him an interesting view of the fellow. Dark
black skin, almost hinting upon blue, with crimson eyes, and silver-
white hair. His ears were pointed and narrow, and Potter recognized
the features of one of the high elves. But which breed was it that
had such dark skin...?
"Not at all. He'll need to be retrained," the other man, who's skin,
eyes and hair were the same color as the other's, reached out,
grabbing hold of the chain still attached to the collar around
Harry's neck. He'd never bothered to remove it.
He did bother to remove the elf's hand, however, when he tried to
force Potter onto his feet. Howling with pain, the dark one feel
back, staring at his stump. Annoyed that his nap had been
interrupted, and that he wouldn't be able to roll over and go back to
sleep, Harry stood up, short compared to the elegance of the elves.
"Why you little..." the other man's cursing trailed off as Harry's
form swelled seven feet, and his back split to allow the two sets of
wings through flicking blood from the feathered tips of his larger
set. Cold, silver eyes stared down at the now shorter elf.
Weapon's voice was chill in it's lack of emotion, "I would reconsider
your next words, _elf_. There is no one that controls myself or my
other. You would do well to remember that the Living Weapons are self-
sufficient."
"Li... li... Living Weapon?" wheezed the stunned man, stumbling
backwards, "No... no, it's impossible! Scimitar is the only Living
Weapon! No other exists!"
Weapon's eyes glowed with the Power in the darkness of the Drow
tunnels, a surprising smirk curving his lips in a chilly manner. To
the frightened dark elf, he looked as one of their deities would look
when angered.
---
End Chapter
I'm nice, aren't I?
Black Rose, M'dear, Draco is all yours to play with-- I just need to
grab him back at some time, so I can get them their pages. For now,
I'll just goof around with Hermione, Harry, Blaise and Nate.