Heh heh heh, so much for being quick about that update? -Hides-
I won't waste time coming up with excuses; all it was was school, and then my forgetting to work on it. I've actually been a lot more interested in my original fiction lately (six awards in regional Scholastic... gold and silver national Scholastic awards!... tomorrow, 6/26/05, is the first day of a week-long writers' camp at a university that I'm going to). Yeah, I suck. And I totally lost the outline for this. --;; And, also, I look back at this and cringe at the rather sucky writing style. This is the last old chapter, anything from here on out is all my newer writing style, whoo hoo!
I know what else you're thinking: what IS this? It's barely three pages single-spaced. Sorry sorry sorry. I'm slowly getting back into my fan fiction writing inspiration (Side Effects needs an update too) and have been reading fan fiction a lot more than I've been writing it... PWOW instead of HPSS... I know, the shame. But I was going to wait to get a longer chapter written, then figured you'd rather have a short, lame filler chapter that needs to be in here anyway (you would not believe the hard time I had writing the Death Eater meeting, and it wasn't even all that long or detailed a meeting) than have to wait even longer for more. This story isn't dead.
Ah yes, this is slash, male/male romance... both Blaise/Draco and Harry/Severus... just to enlighten the unenlightened. Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm not JK Rowling. I'm just a girl who lives in the United States who happens to enjoy terrorizing JKR's creations. :D
I don't have time to write thank yous for reviews this time (should be packing, should be packing... eep)... I love you all! -Glomp-
The characters we know of are (body - person IN body):
Blaise Zabini - Harry
Crabbe - Padma Patil
Goyle - Dumbledore
Neville - McGonagall
Ron - Blaise Zabini
Draco - Lavender
Padma Patil - Ron
Harry - Draco
Pansy - Snape
McGonagall - Hermione
Snape - Neville
Trelawney - Remus
Luna - Sprout
Dumbledore - Trelawney
Oh, but some things people asked/commented on:
1) There is to be no sex in this fan fiction. Sorry if that turns off some
readers, but I have no confidence in my lemon-writing abilities. O.o
2) It is Professor Sprout in Luna's body.
3) Trelawney is in Dumbledore's body. There was to be a whole bit with her messing
up earlier on in the fanfic, but I skipped it because it added nothing to the
plot. (Plot? What plot? I really need to outline this better...)
.-. .-. .-.
Chapter Nineteen
Harry dropped his homework on the table he'd been working at when he
saw Pansy coming into the common room. Tripping out of his chair, he got to
her in time to catch her before she landed on the stone floor on her knees.
She was paler than normal, and her hair was tangled, though nothing else seemed
all that different from the usual. Ignoring a grunt when he picked her off of
the ground and then teetering when he turned, he carried her to the couch. The
other two or three Slytherins up this late paid them no attention, and one even
left, giving Harry a nod.
"They've gone," Pansy muttered, looking away when he sat next
to her. "One of them is going to ruin–"
"Stop," Harry told her, crossing his arms as she continued looking
away. She was acting quite un-Snapeish, and just the idea was enough to make
him worried. "They'll be fine. They've been training for a
long time."
She closed her eyes, rubbing the lids and sighing. "If only. You did not
watch them leave." The sudden change in tone startled Harry. "One
of them was crying. Crying! There's no hope for them, Albus, any of us–"
"Hogwarts students have an amazing ability to do the right thing when
under pressure," he tried to reassure her.
She snorted.
"If only they had that attitude towards homework," she muttered.
Harry gave a weak smile, but her eyes were still shut. They sat there for a
few moments, both hoping that the students would be alright.
"No, no," Crabbe was muttering, tying Nott's mask back on
in a hurry. "Quit sniffling! Breathe with your mouth if you have to, just
don't make a sound!"
"I want to go home," Nott whispered, choking over her words.
"Just do everything the way you were shown, you'll be okay,"
he cooed to her, sharp tone softening. Oh, how much he missed home as well.
And Ravenclaw tower–
They left the woods, joined by a form that Crabbe guessed was Goyle, and entered
a clearing, staying together in a huddled group, but going mostly unnoticed
by the other Death Eaters. They were the last to join the circle, lining up
in the rehearsed order; stepping into line slowly, as they'd been instructed.
This was probably all of the Death Eaters, Crabbe judged, discreetly taking
in the large circle of people around–if he was any less in control of
his emotions, he would have shrieked.
There was only one gap in the circle, belonging to a Death Eater that was
currently in the center, conversing with another, unhooded one. But this unhooded
one had no mask–just glowing white skin, stretched tightly over a skull,
and a face that invoked fear by itself. He saw only red slits for eyes before
diverting his gaze, feeling nauseated.
He discreetly glanced to his side, where an older Death Eater was standing,
posture rigid, wand clutched in his right hand. Around the rest of the circle,
the others were the same, almost identical if not for the long hair flowing
out of some hoods. Eyes coming to land on the other student Death Eaters, he
mentally thanked them for their staying calm. With a sigh, he tried to assure
himself that they would come out of this alive, still worried beyond belief.
"It's been too long, my lord," they heard the Death Eater
with Voldemort in the center say. Then the one who'd spoken turned its
head to look at the students, and backed into the circle, changing to stand
similarly to the other Death Eaters.
"It has," Voldemort agreed. His voice was like rusty chains and
tiger purrs, nothing more pleasant than nails on chalkboard. His eyes drew others
to them like flies to flypaper. Crabbe suppressed a shudder as he clasped his
hands behind his back, slowly drawing up to them. "None of you has anything
to report, after months of silence?"
There was a murmur among the students, and Crabbe felt his heart pace increasing
rapidly the more the man–if he could be called one–drew nearer.
He feared for a moment that Crabbe's body was prone to heart attacks,
then wondered if the students' murmur was the right choice.
"I see." He focused his eyes on Crabbe's, and he found himself
struggling to stand–a weight was pressing on his mind, clawing at it,
trying to get in–
And then it was gone.
"Obviously you need to be punished for lack of information to report,"
Voldemort said, as though this was an apparent fact. Crabbe clenched his teeth,
thankful for the mask. The red eyes flicked down the row. "Nott."
Oh no, Crabbe thought. No, he can't–
Then he clapped a hand over his thoughts, forcing them to other things, reminding
himself forcefully that this man could hear stray emotions. He concentrated
on putting everything of emotion into a box, sealing it with a spell, banishing
it...
"Yes, my lord," Nott managed, taking the smallest of stumbles forward.
"Crucio." He winced, and watched Nott collapse, horrified. "Why
have you no information?" he demanded angrily, in a loud shriek. "You
are hiding something!"
The Death Eaters were standing close together in their circle. As Nott writhed
in pain, she mindlessly rolled into some adult Death Eaters, who kicked her
back, closer to the center. She was scratching at her flesh, at the tattoo on
her forearm, trying to scrape it off through her robes. A sharp twig scraped
her cheek, and blood welled up there. On his left side, Crabbe felt movement,
and his eyes flicked to the side; behind his mask, Goyle was murmuring a spell.
No one else seemed to have noticed, all watching the morbid show.
Meanwhile, Voldemort was growing bored of her silent screaming, and it was
just then that Crabbe realized that what Goyle had done was silence her; how
did the Dark Lord not notice this? But he flicked his wand, and Nott stopped
trying to hurt herself, but stayed on the ground, shivering violently. "Get
back in line," Voldemort ordered, kicking her in the side. She shakily
stood, tripping back into the circle. "Now. Draco. Step forward."
Unflinchingly, the called upon came forward. He seemed so much calmer than Nott
had been, and Crabbe admired him for this, especially since he knew that for
Lavender, this was amazing. "Yes, my lord?"
"What of your Potions Master, the traitor? Have you nothing to say about
him?"
Crabbe drew a sharp breath that thankfully wasn't very loud. There had
been no rehearsed answer for this–he hoped desperately that Malfoy would
say the right thing.
"No, my lord," he said, bowing his head a little, a sign of shame.
"Just that he has been less demanding in class lately. I had not known
that he was a traitor, or I would have watched him more carefully."
"Be more observing," Voldemort hissed, but waved the boy back into
the circle. Crabbe breathed again, thankful that another of their number wouldn't
need to suffer through the Unforgivables, at least for now.
What followed seemed to Crabbe like a routine meeting; the younger Death Eaters
watched the processions silently, trying to concentrate on not slouching and
taking in as much information as they could. Crabbe noted that Voldemort seemed
to have not found out that anything out of the ordinary had happened at the
castle.
It was not until the end of the meeting that Voldemort turned back to the teenagers
again, eyes flicking down the row. "Before our next meeting–"
his eyes flashed dangerously–"I expect that you'll have something
worthwhile to report. I want you to watch young Mister Potter, as well as the
fool headmaster and the Potions Master. Bring me information and I will reward
you dearly." His lip seemed to curl with that phrase, and he dismissed
the circle. Together, all the Death Eaters bowed respect to the Dark Lord, and
then left, all heading in different directions, some apparating right there.
Crabbe waited until he was sure that the other younger Death Eaters had apparated,
and then did so himself, right before Goyle.
"They're back," Harry said, suddenly, looking out across
the grounds.
Pansy, who'd drifted off a little, leaning on the castle wall, out of
worry and exhaustion, stirred. "Are they all there?"
"I can't tell," he replied, then, a moment later, "yes,
they're all there."
"Thank Merlin," Pansy breathed, setting off to meet them, Harry
at her heels.
