The Seers' Truth: Beyond the Darkness
By Lady Lestrange
Chapter 11Secrets of the Serpents
Thank you to my faithful and hardworking beta, ennui deMorte
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter characters and previous situations belong to JK Rowlings. No infringement is meant or implied. No money is made from this fanfic. Thanks
REVIEWS: I really hate blackmailing you into reviewing, but hey, I'm a Slytherin. It's in my nature, so when there are 15 reviews, for this chapter, the next one will magically appear. Love my readers and reviewers. Answers to the reviews follow
For further discussion, see:
Yahoo groups, TheSeersTruth
For your information, the names and meanings of all of the basilisks including who is first imprinted to whom. I call all Basilisks female regardless of the origin of their name, because they are all capable of reproducing.
Skip down one page to reach the story.
Imprinted to Harry: Shesha- Indian King of snakes
Imprinted to Ginny: Visha Indian Male poison
Imprinted to Samara
Vasuki King serpent that adorns the neck of Shiva-curious and bold
Tisha f dim of Patricia noble the smallest. Friendly and empathetic Hair/wand
Tacita f Latin To be silent Shy and companion with Tse Samara's left wrist
Tse male Native American rock shy. She is gray instead of "rooster colors"
Sawa-translate to cobra in Malay curious. Not terribly smart. Right wrist
Salacia f L Wife of Neptune: leader intelligent. companion with Vasuki waist
Zila f shadow stealth never in the same place often waist or ankle
Imprinted to Voldemort
Zissi f teutonic free
Cilicia f Biblical Which rolls or overturns
Cush m Biblical Ethiopians, blackness Named for black color
Thank you to RavenDarkholm for the names, Vasuki and Sawa
Thank you to Terry for the names, Zissi and Tisha.
Thank you all who participated in the "Name the Basilisk contest" on group. For those who are curious, see w-groups.yahoo(dot)com/group/TheSeersTruth
Chapter 11
Secrets of the Serpents
"Draco!" Samara snapped as she looked at her stupefied friend, and then she paused.
Samara could tell that Draco was agitated as soon as he entered the room. His aura had a lot more murkiness since she had last seen him. "What's happened?" she asked. Samara pushed her straggling hair out of her face, magic crackling in her hands as if she had just used major amounts of Elemental magic and didn't bother to release, but she knew, she had released as much as she could.
He closed his eyes and sat in the chair by her bedside. "I don't know where to begin," he said. "Why don't you tell me what happened to you while you had that week long sleep instead?"
"A week?" Samara asked incredulous. "What day is it?" The magic buzzing in her head seemed to disorient her. Yes, she was awake, but she realized she was far from well. She still felt overwhelmed with magic.
"Yes, a week," said Draco. "Merry Christmas."
She sighed, "It's Christmas?" She looked at him for a moment. "Draco, I want to go home," she said. "I have to be home. It's Christmas."
He just looked at her, his aura as study in disbelief. "You don't have to be home. The last Christmas I spent at home was first year," said Draco.
Before Aislinn's death, thought Samara, but she didn't mention Draco's sister. "I need to be home for Christmas," she said. "Why don't you come with me if you'd rather not be at your house—" She paused, gathering her thoughts. "I wish we could stop by Hogwarts. I got you something, Draco. A chess set." She grinned at him. "I think you'll like it. It's—unique."
Draco accioed a package wrapped in gold paper and handed it to her. "I don't know if this is the best gift any more," he said. "It has—Well, you'll see."
She pulled off the paper to reveal a stone granite bowl, protected by a spell to keep it from spilling. Dragon's were carved along the edge with flecks of pink in the stone where their mouths roared open. "Oh Draco," she breathed. "Did you know this pensieve belonged to Morgan le Fey's grandson?"
Salacia eyed the pensieve and tasted with her tongue. Samara edged her back away from it. "(Strange magic,)" Vasuki told the rest of the basilisks, and they were content to let Vasuki and Salacia explore it for all of them.
"Yes," said Draco, as Samara rearranged the basilisk clutch. "Bradwr leFey. Mr. Eifion told me. He had a bit of trouble parting with it. It's been in his family for centuries. He made me promise it was going to a good home and it wouldn't be purged. So if you try to remove any of the memories, I'll probably be cursed."
"Bradwr Eifion was related to Morgan leFey?"
Draco nodded.
Samara hesitated. "This was really expensive," she said. "I saw it in Knockturn—"
"I know," Draco interrupted.. "Bradwr Eifion was anxious to get the Malfoy business. Dad's been going to Borgin and Burkes for years. Mr. Eifion saw an opportunity to ingratiate himself with the next Malfoy generation, and took it. I traded a few artifacts in addition to the money. Mr. Eifion was happy. I was happy." After a moment he added, "Don't look at this alone. It has quite a number of ancient spells on it. Mr. Eifion said he had a second cousin or great aunt or someone who disappeared. Some of the family thought she entered it and never came back out, but it could be just a rumor."
"Thank you," said Samara, hugging him. "I've missed you. She just held him for a moment enjoying the latent buzz of his magic and the scent of soap and smoke and the outdoors. Air Elemental, she realized, and perhaps Fire Elemental too. He had been using wandless magic recently—a lot of it. She never knew that before just from touching him—being near him. She pulled back, looking into his stone gray eyes.
"I really want to go home," she said.
He said nothing. Just reached out and touched a tendril of her hair and the silence stretched before them a little uncomfortably. About this time, Samara thought, they would normally have been sharing magic or at least kissing, but Draco still sat silently at her bedside. She would have wondered if he had fallen asleep, except that his aura, bright orange and rolling was definitely not the aura of a sleeping person.
"No," Draco whispered at last as he shook his head. "We can't leave here now."
"Draco?" she said softly as he wrapped the tendril of her hair around his finger. She thought he looked tired. No, not tired, spent, like someone who had used too much magic with too little sleep in too little time.
"He still has your wand, doesn't he?" Draco asked.
"I guess so." She grinned at him, dripping magic along his fingers "I don't really need it."
"Yes, you do," Draco countered. "And you won't get it back," Draco predicted, closing his hand over hers.
"Then I'll make another one. A better one."
Draco said nothing, and the silence stretched again, the magic still in their clasped hands.
"Draco?"
"I guess I've just become accustomed to sitting beside you and thinking," he said. "I didn't mean to ignore you, not when I've realized how close I came to losing you." He leaned in and kissed her.
"You smell like smoke," said Samara, not mentioning that she realized that it was magical smoke. She hesitated. "Draco, why is your aura orange?"
"Orange? What?" snapped Draco. "I'm not trying to control anyone. Least of all you, Samara, maybe convince you—you can't--"
"Strongly convince?" Samara suggested raising an eyebrow, thinking that the last time he tried to convince her it was with imperio.
"I suppose," said Draco. "It's important—
"It's not important enough to use imperio," said Samara.
"I wasn't using imperio," snapped Draco, and she felt his magic crackle before he sucked it in, controlling it. Several of the basilisks lifted their heads, curious about the magic.
"You did before."
"So did you!" shouted Draco, jumping to his feet and starting for the door.
"Adhere!" shouted Samara and a rush of Elemental Air blew past Draco, knocking things to the floor and blowing his robes and hair wildly, he started to turn. Samara expected his feet to be stuck to the floor, but they weren't. She had missed! No, she hadn't, because everything around them was tingling with the Elemental magic. It just didn't work. He turned back to her, a sharp retort on his lips, when the magical backlash of the spell hit her like a whirlwind, taking her breath away, just like it had done before she had made her wand. Like it was before Hogwarts. Before everything! She burst out crying. She could feel it. She could feel the magic, but it was out of her reach somehow. She wrapped her arms around herself and sobbed.
Draco stared at her. She wanted him to hold her, but he did nothing. He just stood and looked at her. "Samara?" he said at last,. "This isn't like you. You would as soon curse me as cry. What are you crying about? Samara?" He shuffled from one foot to the other as she cried. Finally he came and sat on the bed beside her.
"What just happened?" asked Draco putting his hand on hers.
"I don't know. Since I woke, I feel as if one moment I'm fine and the next I'm caught up in the Chamber of Forever, and I can't control it. It's disorienting. I'm feeling—I'm seeing, more than auras now."
"Dance," said Draco. "It needs movement, not just sound, until you've made it yours again."
"Really?" said Samara. "Do you think so?"
"I've been reading. He has tons of books on this stuff in his library. He's brought a lot of them here, especially since you didn't look like you were going to wake up any time soon."
"I didn't want to," said Samara. "It hurt every time I tried to face back to life. It hurt. I was happy as part of the Elementals."
"I know," said Draco, softly. "I'm sorry."
She looked at him. "He had never told her he was sorry for anything. He had used imperious and didn't tell her he was sorry! Now, he was saying he was sorry. "Why?"
"I told you before, Samara. I'm not brave. He told me to use the bond between us to bring you back." He stood up suddenly and paced away from her. "I wanted to. I wanted you back—" His aura was fluctuating rapidly, darkening with his thoughts. The sparkles from the recently used wandless magic glittered wildly in the murkiness.
"Draco," Samara interrupted. "What did he do to you?"
"It was nothing. That's just how he is—"
"What did he do? Curcio? You know I can't see the holes in your aura from it with Aislinn's protection, but I can certainly see something, an increased murkiness. Tell me. How many times did he curcio you?"
Draco shrugged. Tisha crawled onto his lap and he stroked her absently.
"Shit! Didn't your parents do anything to help you? I thought they were his special helpers. His high ranking inner circle Death Eaters—" She paused appalled by what she saw in his aura, the sudden shrinking in defense. "Them too," she whispered. "They crucioed you too, didn't they?"
"It's over," he said harshly. "I wanted you back, but it felt wrong to force you. I had to draw the line somewhere. It felt like it hurt you."
"It did."
The silence between them deepened, Draco finally speaking, "And I sat in this chair and I thought, Draco, you are a bloody idiot, you gambled everything for her magic and bloody hell, she's going to die. How unfair is that! I wanted to drag your ass back here. Because I thought, if she dies, I will be his scapegoat, and a Malfoy's nobody's scapegoat, not even His. I was so pissed at you, Samara. I tried to find you in the Elementals, to tell you—to let you know—"
"I know," she said.
"And I couldn't hold on to you. I couldn't reach you, and I thought where's this bloody bond we're supposed to have?' I couldn't reach you!" He turned, glaring at her. "You lied. There's no bloody bond!" he shouted.
"Yes, there is," she said.
"Then why couldn't I reach you!"
"You could have," said Samara. "If you had done it for me, instead of for you—"
"What kind of Hufflepuff garbage is that?" spat Draco, his magic crackling again, and Tisha hissing in excitement.
Samara said nothing.
"Is that why the Weasel could wake you, but I couldn't?" he snapped.
"Is that what the stupefy was about?" Samara asked gently already knowing the answer just by looking at his aura. "Is that what you think?" asked Samara putting her hand on his. "She didn't wake me, Draco. The medi-witch sent me back. She said I have work to do."
"What," asked Draco.
"I don't know, for sure. I know it has something to do with the Rift between the Muggle and Wizarding worlds."
"The Rift?"
Yes." She shoved her hair back again. It was tangled and less than clean. Although the house elves had been charming her clean, it wasn't a permanent substitute for real soap and water.. She didn't want to spar with Draco right now. She would dearly love a long hot bath right about now. She didn't want to talk about what the medi-witch had said to her, or anything about the Elementals. She wanted to do something. She felt like she had tons of magic pent up inside of her, begging to be released. She shoved the blankets back and crawled out of the bed, immediately stumbling.
"You're a wreck, you know that?" Draco said bluntly, as he stretched out an arm to catch her. His tone was sharp, but his aura was a soft rose.
Samara didn't answer. What did one say to a comment like that? Especially when his aura was rose. "So what did the medi-witch say you have to do?" Draco asked finally, pulling her back onto his lap.
"I'm not sure." Samara pushed the hair out of her eyes self-consciously. She knew she looked a mess. How could she not? Draco smiled at her, doing a simple glamour on her. "Better?" he asked, and Samara nodded, reaching out to him, magic crackling. "Couldn't stand to look at me, huh?" She watched his rose aura deepen as she touched him.
"Maybe," said Draco, "but I don't think it's a good idea for Him to see you reeking of Elemental Magic like you are now. The power is so awesome, even I can feel it."
"You're one to talk," said Samara. "You come in here practically dripping Elemental magic."
"I released," he protested.
"Barely." Said Samara. "Look at the basilisks wanting to cluster around your magic. They feel it, and so do I."
"It's not mine they're clustering about," said Draco. "It's yours. You are way worse than me."
"Ha!" spat Samara. "I have an excuse, the Elementals—"
Draco shrugged. "I was with Ethan and Edward," he said. "Things were a little hot, but you—"
"So what do you suggest?" interrupted Samara with a wry smile. "What to play Quit?" She pulled Salacia off of her waist and the basilisk protested until Samara hissed, "(Magic.)"
Draco laughed. "You're joking right?" He said, but his aura darkened again, a deep rich rose that made her heart beat fast, and she knew he wasn't thinking of Quit.
"No," She giggled pushing Tisha out of Draco's lap and laying her hands, wrists still encased in basilisks over his, teasing, "Let's see how good you really are—" She released a substantial amount of magic through him, and he flung it off, but as it kept coming, he growled, flipping his hands over and grabbing hers, causing her basilisks to hiss, and letting the magic have full rein.
"You lose," she gasped "You touched—".
"I don't think so," he whispered, eyes darkening as the magic in them flared and he kissed her, the basilisks all vying for a place near their magic.
==
Harry awoke on Christmas Morning when Hermione pounded on their door. "Sirius promised we could go back to my house today," she said through the door. "Please wake up."
"Just how I want to spend my Christmas," muttered Ron, "Cleaning up a Death Eater's mess" He looked at Harry's stricken face and grimaced. "Sorry Mate," he said. He pulled a shirt on and glanced at Harry. Deciding that Harry was fine in his pajama bottoms, he flung open the door. "Merry Christmas, Hermione!" he said kissing her thoroughly
Harry groaned and faced the wall.
"Oh, come on, Harry," said Hermione bouncing on the bottom of the bed a moment later. "Wake up. It's Christmas."
Grumbling Harry sat up and pulled on a tee shirt.
"I left your gift at my house," said Hermione. "yours too Ron, but I'm suddenly reminded of what is most important in life—the people you care about." She wrapped her arms around both of the boys and hugged. "and thanks to you, and Sirius and Tonks, my parents and my best friends are safe."
"Thanks, Hermione." Harry looked up, the tapping of an owl on the window brought him to his feet. It wasn't Hedwig, not that he would expect her back so soon and it didn't look like a school owl. Then he realized it was one of the order owls he had seen last night. He opened the window and the bird dropped a small package into his hand. The package was addressed to Harry Potter, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the return address was #4 Privit Drive. He stood looking at the scrawled lettering and the Muggle stamps on the package for a long time. The Dursley's must have sent it before Christmas. Of course they did, thought Harry. They didn't send it last night, and they didn't send it by owl post. Like at Hogwarts, the Order owls took over from the local Muggle post office at times. Harry turned the small package over in his hand. It was relatively light. It could be anything. Finally another owl arrived, and Harry tore open the gift from the Dursley's. It was the two halves of a walnut shell, the walnut already eaten. The second owl was from Hagrid. The gift was a book: The Care and Feeding of Obscure Magical Creatures. Page 27 through 53 was devoted to the basilisk.
Voldemort sat on a comfortable chair with Nagini at his feet, and a huge fire blazing at his right hand but neither of his spies had fire called to tell him the fate of the Mulcibers, the death eater couple who had been masquerading as the Scrimgoers since the beginning of November. He frowned.
Several basilisks crawled over the chair and his arms. A large black cat pouncing with playful intent upon a squeaking rat attracted the basilisk's curiosity and they hissed, talking to one another, but Voldemort ignored them. The only other sound in the room was the sound of pages turning and the soft sobbing of the book that Voldemort was reading. He had written the book years ago when he lived in the flesh of Salazar Slytherin so he intimately knew its contents, but it did not have the information he needed. It had only the reference. "Meridius, woeful Raven that hath rent the fabric of the magic, and cast the world of wizards down to the world of muggle. Before this Rift, the magic could be transferred to another with mutual consent at will." Now, Salazar knew, the power needed a Mark, a conduit through which the power could flow. Silently he mourned how much magic had changed since the early days, and he closed and sealed the book on his lap. It's chains wrapped around the silver lettering that proclaimed the title: MorsMordre. He needed to review his memory of the Rift. He was quite sure that was what filled Samara's dreams, but why? Why? There were few books written on the subject of the Rift. Godric had written one, he knew, when they were in fierce competition in their academic pursuits, but Voldemort was quite sure he had only written it to keep up with Salazar. He doubted that it had any real information regardless to the fact that the hapless Meridian was some ancestor of Godric's. Of course he also believed Meridius was also an ancestor of Rowenna's, thus the reference to Raven, but Samara thought Raven was a completely different house than Ravenclaw. None of that, of course, told him about the Rift.
"Millicent!" Called Voldemort, and the black cat immediately froze with the small rat in her mouth. "Enough."
She dropped the rat and both transformed into the wizards they were, Millicent into the rather burly dark haired witch and Wormtail into the wheezing bald man with a paunchy belly and skinny legs. He was dripping sweat and cat spit. Several long scratches bled through his robes sleeves and one quite deep scratch ran from just above his chin to his neck.
Voldemort examined Wormtail's wounds and healed them. "Wormtail, my friend, when will you learn that if you can transform back into a wizard, you will cause her severe pain if she has your head in her mouth? Look at you, covered with cat spit from a child. You are a disgrace."
"I'm sorry, Master," puffed Wormtail. "May I be excused?"
"No. Remain here." Said Voldemort, he turned away from Wormtail and then turned back, frowning. "Is there something you wanted to say?"
"No Master," squeaked Wormtail, bowing and backing away, an image of the captive rabbit animagus in his mind.
"The rabbit will be fine in her cage," said Voldemort. "You did remember to ward the door?"
"Oh yes, Master. I'm sure—" he squeaked, his beady eyes darting this way and that.
"Very well, then," said Voldemort shortly. He turned back to Millicent. "You are doing much better, Millicent. You avoided marring his face, this time, but I still expect more control from you."
"May I have my fingernails back, Master?" asked Millicent, holding out her right hand which was missing the center three finger nails, the hand swollen and the ends of the fingers bloody."
"No," said Voldemort, "But I shan't take any more. You have earned the right to keep what you have."
"Thank you, but Master, it's my right hand. I can barely grip my wand, and --"
"Ahh-very well. Medico!"
She breathed a sigh of relief until Voldemort spoke again. "Millicent, your left hand please."
She said nothing, but her lip trembled as she held out her left hand and closed her eyes. Tears were already starting to come and the half sobbed word, "Pl-Please—" whispered from between her clenched teeth. Voldemort pulled out her three middle fingernails with torturous precision before sending her on her way. By then, she was crying too hard to hear his parting words. "Tomorrow, Millicent, you will begin work with one of my snake animagi. I believe you are enjoying Wormtail too much. He fails to challenge you."
"Yes, Master," she sobbed. "Tomorrow." And he waved her away.
"I can see why Severus relishes teaching," said Voldemort. "I could almost believe I am back at my school myself with all the children here. They are so brimming with life, aren't they; Wormtail?"
"Yes," squeaked Wormtail, falling on his knees and kissing Voldemort's robe. . "Thank you, Master."
"Get away from me," snapped Voldemort. "You're filthy."
"I'm sorry, Master."
"What's wrong with you?" asked Voldemort.
"Nothing Master. I just—nothing—"
Voldemort frowned. "What are you afraid of?"
"(Hisssuss!)" Spoke one of the basilisks on Voldemort's arm.
Wormtail squeaked and just about jumped out of his skin, his darting eyes suddenly looking terribly rat-like.
Voldemort laughed. "Go!" He ordered. "Come back to me when you are clean. I want to discuss what you have discovered about the spy. Oh and send the ferret and the hawk to me."
Salazar asked in parseltongue, "(What do you think, Nagini? Shall I be a viper or a python today?)" Being one of the only wizards to be able to manage the transformation to multiple snake animagi, gave him some choices.
"(Bigger is better,)" intoned Nagini.
"(Not always, my friend. Not always,)" said Voldemort.
When Voldemort was finished with his teaching, he went to visit Samara. She was awake, and although weak and nearly completely devoid of magic, he was confident she would make a swift recovery. Virginia Weasley told him the time when she had awakened, and he felt it might be significant that she had awakened at precisely the moment when he first thought of attacking Privit Drive. He wondered if it had any significance. He wondered if it was significant that she awoke with Virginia and not with Draco or himself. He sighed. It was hard to tell in these matters.
Samara was now in the large upper bedroom that they had converted into an infirmary of sorts. He thought that she would prefer to have some company while she convalesced. There were several Death Eaters who had been injured in last night's activities, including Gregory Goyle, who seemed to have a penchant for getting burned, Valeriana who was cursed by Longbottom and a Drumstrang girl who fell off of her broomstick and broke several ribs. From what he understood her broom was a Firebolt. What were parents thinking these days, buying such a fast broom for a girl?
As he entered the room the sound of parseltongue being spoken assaulted his ears. The cacophony of sound was impossible to understand, but he did make an attempt. It seemed that Samara had related her tale of her time in the Elementals to the basilisks that she was keeping for him in a story that any child would have found fascinating. Now, they were now discussing possible explanations with occasional interjections from the Durmstrang girl's snake, Koschei. Of course, Samara was voicing her opinions just as loudly, and the basilisks were interrupting one another in a most disconcerting manner.
"(I'm telling you,)" Samara said, speaking in parseltongue, "(It was not the House of Ravenclaw. It was the House of the Raven, before this distinction of characteristics assigned by the founders of the Hogwart's nest. Before that, all wizards were one. There was no House distinction. One nest--)" said Samara gesturing, "(was the wizards, the other nest was the Muggles—"
"Meridius Barrington was this crazy wizard who thought he could open a doorway to other worlds. To bring the nests together,)" she said, clasping her hands together in explanation, startling Tacita and Tse, two of the shier basilisks, who were hiding under the blankets, and probably asleep.
"(I do not know this Meridius,)" said Vasuki another of the basilisks.
"(He lived long ago—)" Samara hesitated with the concept of time. "(Before you were even eggs,)" she hissed.
"(When we were only sissshauss of our mother,)" explained Salacia, the most intelligent of the clutch.
"(Well,)" Samara continued, "(Probably sissshausss of your mother's mother. Instead of opening a tunnel to a new land of many hisssusss and no sheis, he initiated the spell which caused the Rift to be opened, allowing the Muggle World and the Wizarding World to collide.)"
"(Then a doorway was indeed opened,)" commentedVasuki. "(To a new nest?)"
"(Yes,)" said Samara. "(But a nest so different, that he nor any of his nestmates could understand.)"
"(Different as water and air?)" added Salacia, who gained her name from the sea serpent wife of Neptune to whom she insisted they were all related.
"(Yes,)" Samara agreed. "(As different as water and air.)"
"(But no hissusss,)" said Sawa. "(Why would they go where there was no hissusss?)"
"(It was a mistake,)" said Salacia, exasperated with her stupidity.
"(Was he able to devour the death of the others?)" inquired another basilisk from under the blanket. Samara thought it was Tacita, the shy, silent one.
"(No.)" said Samara. "(There was no sissshausss. Nothing good came from this spell either. He lost his senses of taste, touch, sight, hearing and smell.)"
"(But he could still sense magic, right?)" asked Zila, "(He could always sissshauss magic. Magic is always.)"
"(No, he devoured nothing. He died,)" Samara told them.
"(Became sissshauss for another?)" questioned Zila. "(You didn't tell us about sheis)."
"(There was no sheis,)" interrupted Koschei in a superior tone. "(It was a natural disaster, like when an earthquake caves in a hole.)"
"(Yes,)" agreed Salacia.
"(Similar,)" said Samara. "(But there this was not a natural thing. This was caused by a wizard.)"
"(Sissshausss-A-sissshausss?)" asked Tse, finally waking.
"(No,)" said Samara. "(This was before His time.)"
"(Before?)" asked Zila, confused. "(Time?)"
"(He was an egg,)" said another shortly, and Samara burst out laughing.
"(Salacia! If he heard you--)" Samara admonished.
"(Oh—)" said Zila finally understanding the concept of time as best she could.
"(So now there are two nests,)" surmised Vasuki, the only basilisk except for Salacia who apparently understood--.
"(Yes,)" said Samara "(and the two should have never been brought together. This hole should have never been created.)"
"(Then the hole must be filled in,)" said Salacia with certainty.
"(It can't be,)" said Samara. "(It happened a long time ago.)"
"(The sisshauss of the mother is now in the child,)" said Vasuki. "(It is the same.)"
"(The child will fill in the hole,)" another agreed. Samara realized it was Tse, speaking from her hiding spot under the blankets.
"(We don't know where the child is,)" said Samara. "(We don't even know if there is a child—or where the hole is.)"
"(I thought the hole was in your nest,)" said Sawa obviously confused.
"(There were two nests,)" explained Salacia once again.
"(So which one has the hole?)" asked Tisha, the smallest..
Samara rubbed her head in frustration.
Voldemort chuckled. "A noble attempt, young one," he said, "but the basilisks cannot understand. They know nothing of other worlds. They don't even understand our world."
"Ginny said you had my wand," said Samara hopefully.
"I do," said Voldemort pulling it from his robe. "You no longer need it."
"I know," she said, aware of how much the Elementals had changed her. "Actually," she smirked. "I didn't need it before my jaunt through the Elementals, but I like it." She held out her hand expectantly and after a moment, Voldemort placed her wand in it, but his aura was filled with orange streaks as if he wanted to convince her to give him the wand.
She held it in her hand for a moment and then put it on her lap while she rearranged her hair to accommodate it.
"I knew this basilisk," said Voldemort, the orange in his aura mellowing down to a softer color. "She was my first. Her name was Rena." And Samara understood that he was talking about the basilisk whose skin was in her wand.
They talked for quite a while about Voldemort's first basilisk, Rena, and eventually, Samara began to relax. It was simply too hard to stay on guard for such a long period of time.
"(Rena,)" said Vasuki trying out the name on her tongue. "(Rena? She is bitemate?)"
That basilisk was nothing but dust in her book when she found it. It had to be very old.
"(She is dead,)" Samara replied in parseltongue, hissing and joining in their conversation, as the clutch mourned the death of their ancestor.
"(Has she been avenged?)" asked Cush, one of Voldemort's basilisks, for the first time joining the conversation of her bitemates.
"(I don't know,)" Samara answered her, reaching out to stroke the jet black basilisk, but Cush hissed and sidled away as if expecting pain.
"(I brought you here,)" said Voldemort, still speaking in parseltongue, "(so that you would have wizarding conversation, not so you would spend your time trying to explain complex wizarding concepts to basilisks.)"
"(We understand,)" protested Salacia.
Samara glanced around at her companions. Valeriana was staring at the opposite wall, muttering curses, her aura a deep gray-brown., sparkles looking like the static of a muggle television or an over exposed photograph, but her aura was not as bad as Voldemort's. At least she still looked human, although holes riddled the entire aura. Gregory was attempting to eat the chocolate frogs that someone had sent him. His aura was nothing unusual, a reddish color rather typical of teen age boys, but with streaks of brown and tan, no doubt his aura has some variation because his burns were hurting him. His mouth was currently filled with a combination of chocolate and orange burn goo, so she guessed he wasn't in too much pain to eat. Maura was sound asleep, after having been given a pain relieving potion. She looked relaxed, her tan aura streaked with turquoise, although she, like the other two, had the murkiness Samara had learned to associate with the Dark Mark and the sparkles indicating the use of wandless magic. Samara turned back to Voldemort, her hand gently on Salacia who was wrapped around her waist. "I think I prefer my basilisks," she said.
"Your basilisks?" questioned Voldemort, his aura flashing oddly as he sat on the edge of her bed and began gently stroking one of the little serpents until it hissed with contentment and Tisha slithered onto his lap, drawn by his magic and his warmth. I understand completely your dilemma," said Voldemort. "Perhaps I should leave Nagini with you. She understands many wizarding concepts and is a worthy conversationalist.
"I couldn't do that," said Samara. "Nagini is yours."
"So are the basilisks," said Voldemort.
"Oh." His aura flickered again, trying to gain a color, and Samara was uncertain what he was feeling, but she sensed that he understood more about her than she did about him. Perhaps he realized that she didn't believe him. He began to explain that the basilisks had to bite their wizarding master to imprint them to the wizard or witch. "Have any of them bitten you?" he asked.
"I don't know," she said.
"Oh, if they bit you, you would know," said Voldemort.
"They might have," she said softly thinking of the several times when she was immersed in the Elementals when she was assaulted by pain that seemed to emanate from her body, most notable was when Meridius did the spell which caused the Rift, but that might have been associated with Voldemort's interference. He disrupted the Elementals somehow. There were other moments too, which hurt, when she somehow connected back to this world though Draco, when the stallion nipped her, when she has stumbled against the rocks while getting the water, and when the cuts were made on the Sioux boy, and during the Sundance, but she thought the entire Sundance incident was again adversely colored by Voldemort's interference through the Shaman. He was what caused the pain there, but there were a number of times when the basilisks could have bitten her, and she would have been unaware of the pain. She only became aware of the pain in her body, when she ceased to focus on the Elementals, so she might not have felt the bite, but it didn't matter. She sensed a bond between herself and the serpents regardless to what he said. Perhaps it was best not to reveal this to Voldemort though. "You don't know if they bit me," she said.
"You can keep no secrets from me," Voldemort said softly, his aura flashing a soft melon orange. "How do you feel?" He reached for her cheek and she sidled out of his reach. Angry orange streaks blasted through his aura. Well, she understood what that meant!
"Strange," she replied feeling suddenly nervous. "Like a Muggle. How soon do you think my magic will return?" She put her hands together on her lap, trying to keep from picking at her fingernails in her nervousness. She shifted further from him.
"I don't know, a couple of days. A week at most," he said, lifting his head and scenting her, like some sort of animal. His aura flashed orange again, and she felt sweat begin, cold and clammy under her armpits and between her breasts. "We will give it a little while," he said, "and then, there are some things I may be able to do to help." His hand closed over hers.
Everything in her, screamed, don't touch me! He lifted his hand away from hers, and surprise showed in his aura as Vasuki and Salacia both hissed at him not to touch.
She realized that he heard her as well as the basilisks, and she had no explanation for her panic, but she felt supremely thankful that he had removed his hand from hers. "I—" she began. "I--Thank you," she said. "I—I don't like to be touched," she offered by way of explanation. Still not trusting him, but feeling that she had to depend upon him, she tried to continue the conversation, although she knew from what Snape had told her about legilimens that he definitely heard her shouted thoughts. She tried to change the subjects. "I thought maybe Draco would be by," she said hopefully.
"He has been busy," said Voldemort, the muddy rag of colors that blended to make his aura darkened and pulled closer to his body. It was a defensive move. Samara was confused. Defensive? Why would he feel defensive against her? Or Draco?
"I see," she answered, still intent upon his aura. "Do you think it would be possible for me to borrow an owl? I've owled my grandmother every week since I went to Hogwarts. She's probably worried."
"And what would you tell her?" Voldemort asked. His aura stagnant and frightening.
"Only that I had been sick, which is why I hadn't written earlier and I am now—ah—" she fumbled for a reason that she didn't have. "Staying at a relative's home—"
"Relative?" said Voldemort his aura flashing a barely noticeable bit of yellow, indicating his curiosity, before it disappeared into the muck. Samara would have to pay very close attention to catch the subtle color changes amidst the murkiness and too late Samara remembered Draco's admonishment to not let Voldemort know about her muggle parentage or her relationship to him.
"Well, all pure bloods are related somehow, aren't they?" she asked with a wry smile, hoping that by asking a question rather than making a statement, his legilimency would not catch her mistake.
And his strange snake face creased into a smile. "You will leave your letter unsealed," he said. "Give it to one of the house elves. They will take care of it." The glint of orange in his aura left no doubt that this would not be a private letter.
She felt exceedingly tired and not up to the sparring that was happening between them.
One of the basilisks on her wrist hissed. She thought it was Sawa. Sawa liked her right wrist.
"Yes, Sawa," confirmed the basilisk. "Sleep now. Sleep and warm."
"I'm sorry," hissed Samara. "I can't do a warming spell right now. Before the fever was keeping you warm, and the fever is gone now."
With a quick flick of his wand, Voldemort did a warming spell on her and the basilisks. "I know they can be quite persistent when they want to be," he said. "We'll talk later."
He kept Tisha, the smallest and the friendliest, the basilisk that had crawled onto his lap earlier, and the others hissed in agitation at Tisha's absence.
Voldemort crossed the room to Valeriana. Narcissa had come in and was sitting chatting with her sister about last night's events.
"You can't talk about me getting old," said Narcissa. "Before Azkaban, you never would have been hit with that spell. You have to be more careful sister. It could have just as easily been Avada."
"Pfaw! Avada? From a that old Longbottom?" Valeriana sipped a smoking green potion. She grimaced as she swallowed, and held her ribs while she took another larger drink.
"Well," said Narcissa. "You used to be able to shield Testudo in a fraction of a second, now—"
"If it had been Avada, Testudo wouldn't have helped, would it?" retorted Valeriana, finally draining the potion glass and picking up a second potion of which was fizzing like blue champagne.
Voldemort laughed softly at their verbal sparring. It hadn't changed in all the years of their life. "You two are just the same as you were years ago," reminisced Voldemort. "Always competing—unless you were sharing magic—But Laurel could best you both—"
"She could not!" replied Narcissa and Valeriana together, and Voldemort laughed at them once again.
Valeriana grinned. "Do you know last night reminded me of her? The Bone's house—the first time—Do you remember sister? You were there for that, Master, weren't you?" Valeriana asked Voldemort.
"I don't think so," said Voldemort thoughtfully.
"No, just Laurel," said Narcissa.
"We buried the house," remembered Narcissa. "I was so tired, I think I slept for a week."
"In Lucius' bed," whispered Valeriana, and Narcissa blushed prettily.
"And Carman was having fits because of the mud in my sheets," laughed Valeriana.
"That was because you were too stupid to call the house elves, and tell them to take them off--" said Narcissa.
"They should have done it without being told," said Valeriana petulantly. "Anyway, she wasn't as mad about that as the time I set the sheets on fire."
"Which time?" asked Narcissa with a frown.
"O-Oh, if I had full magic! That deserves a curse," said Valeriana. She grimaced in pain and clutched her ribs as she moved.
"Rest," said Voldemort laying his hand on her face. "We need your magic back to normal soon, Valeriana.."
"Oh, I'll be back in no time," boasted Valeriana. "Last time Longbottom did this curse on me, I was down for nearly a week with splinters of bone in every vital organ." She winced as she shifted herself in the bed. "But she didn't hit me directly this time. I'll be out by this evening. It's just a few broken bones."
"Good," said Voldemort. Running his finger across her lips. "I miss you—" He let the memories of the last crucious session filled her mind so that she would have no illusions of what he wanted from her.
"Not yet," she breathed, fear and excitement warring within her. "Please—"
"I understand. I am patient. Perhaps," he said, bringing his other hand into contact with Narcissa's cheek, and then pushing his hand under her hair, feeling the fine silkiness in his fingers. She seemed so fragile, as if he could break her with a breath, but he knew better. She would bend like a willow branch. She would bend to his will and come right back to herself. She had done it before. He felt the quickening pulse in her neck as he spoke. "Perhaps, your sister would want to take your place, Valeriana."
"Lucius!" The thought came unbidden to Narcissa's mind. She swallowed, and gathered her wits about her. "Of course, Master," she said aloud, her pale aristocratic skin becoming even paler. "When?" she whispered.
"You may dine with me," he invited. "Of course bring Lucius, if you wish. I have things to attend to now." He leaned over and brushed Valeriana's cheek with his flickering tongue. "Get well," he demanded, and then with a rustle of robes turned to leave.
Samara could not help but watch the exchange Voldemort had with Valeriana. His aura was glowing a bright fluorescent orange as he touched her, and hers, a sickly brown was being torn and tortured simply by his touch, and yet bits of it glowed an almost normal rose. Then he seemed to see that he was hurting her, and turned to Narcissa, speaking softly. Narcissa's aura remained unchanged, a pale calm turquoise, only when he left did it flare with anger, boiling red in the same way as Draco's did.
"I hate him," Narcisssa said in a low voice than nonetheless carried to the opposite bed where Samara was lying.
"Sh-h-" hissed her sister looking carefully around, assessing Samara and deciding that she was asleep.. "Say no more!" Valeriana demanded. "You speak death! Treason! He is everything we meant him to be." Her aura was still brown, but lighter, moving playfully into tan. "You just don't want to share Lucius." She smirked at her sister.
"I don't," she agreed. "But it's more than that."
"Don't say it," snapped Valeriana. "I will hear nothing against him. Nothing. He is Salazar Slytherin. He deserves everything we can give him. Our loyalty. Our lives."
"His sadistic magic—" began Narcissa.
"Find something to enjoy in it," insisted Valeriana hotly.
"In his torture?" Narcissa was incredulous.
"There is always something to enjoy in magic," said Valeriana. "You sister, have never been without it."
"No, I haven't," Narcissa said softly, laying her hand on her sister's. "I'm sorry I upset you. Let's talk of other things. Something fun—"
"Last night was fun," agreed Valeriana. "Even though it would have been better if I had blocked. It was fun."
"So you agree now. You should have blocked," teased Narcissa.
"Of course, I should have blocked—or set her on fire—" Valeriana grinned at her sister.
Narcissa laughed. "Fire is all you think of! How many times did you set the house on fire when we were kids?"
"I only did it once," said Valeriana. "Laurel did it the other times."
"Yeah, but at least Laurel had Elemental water to put it out." Said Narcissa.
"I miss her," sighed Valeriana. "I missed you both in Azakaban, but now that I've shared magic with you again, I miss our Third. It makes a difference."
Narcissa nodded, "But you have your sons."
"They don't have enough control yet," said Valeriana. "They are sloppy. Reckless. Especially Ethan."
"And I wonder where he gets that from," said Narcissa, and Valeriana hit her with a pillow, since her magic wasn't up to use.
"Anyway, it's not the same as feminine magic," continued Valeriana. "There is something about three sisters that is special."
"Yes," said Narcissa. "No one will ever replace Laurel, but is a shame neither of us had daughters."
"Didn't Laurel have a daughter?" asked Valeriana. "She was a little older than your Draco, wasn't she?"
Narcissa nodded, thoughtfully.
"Avery though--she would have been raised by her father. Did she get sorted into Ravenclaw?"
"No," said Narcissa. "Slytherin."
Valeriana brightened, catching her sister's hand in her excitement. "Then she waits for us, Sister!"
Narcissa laughed. "Get better, Valeriana, and then we will go and bring her home."
Samara was tired and her eyes were drooping sleepily. She didn't hear the rest of the sisters' conversation.
"Sleep mistress," hissed Salacia.
"Sleep," urged another.
She hissed her thanks to her basilisks, while worrying about Tisha who Voldemort had taken away from her. "I just wasn't up to sparring with Voldemort right now. Thank you for chasing him away."
"He isn't hisssuss," said Vasuki, trying to understand the situation. "He holds some of our bitemates."
"Nestmates," said Samara.
"But it is the bite that makes the bond," said Salacia. "Not the nest."
"I know, said Samara, but I don't think bites are very pleasant.
"We know," answered Sawa. "That is why we bite you very carefully."
"So you did bite me."
"Of course, otherwise you would not be ours." Said Sawa.
"Is he hissusss and sissshausss or sheis?" asked Tse, confused.
"I don't know," said Samara wearily. "I really don't know."
"Will he bring Tisha back to us?" asked Salacia
"I don't know," answered Samara. "I'm sure he wants to take you all."
"Is he a bitemate?" asked Zila.
"No," said Samara. "Just the other I told you about," said Samara. "the one who holds Visha, and her hisssuss friend. They are bitemates."
"Yes mistress."
Samara sighed. It took quite some time to convince the basilisks that the bunny was a bitemate and not hisssusss.
At last, she slept, and the healing began.
After supper, Ginny decided to go see Samara. She was walking along the corridor when Visha suddenly hissed, "Sheiss!"
Immediately, Ginny slipped into a side corridor and waited for the sheiss to pass. She had learned to trust Visha's senses. They were after all, much more acute than her own and since Visha knew that Ginny preferred to avoid Voldemort whenever possible, those senses came in handy. She had managed to avoid him rather well this past week.
Today, however, it was not Voldemort in the corridor. It was Pritch and one of his friends, Wylie, the boy Ginny had failed to crucio at Durmstrang. She knew she had made an enemy there. There were also two Durmstrang students, the hawk animagus and another Ginny didn't know.
"Did you see him sweat?" asked Pritch.
The group laughed.
"I've never seen anyone sweat so much. If he would have transformed into his rat animagus, he would have drowned!"
The hawk spat a strange high pitched laugh out and looked in her direction, his amber eyes disconcerting, but thankfully not as keen as when he was in his animagus form.
Ginny didn't move.
"Did you see him search the room?" asked another boy. "He searched in holes this big!" He held up his little finger in explanation. "I can't believe how stupid he is."
"Well, we could have done a shrinking spell," said Wylie.
"So where is it, ?" Pritch asked the hawk.
"I'm not telling. I got it. It's mine."
"Just don't eat it," said the other.
"A-kk!" said the hawk, making a series of choking sounds. "It gives me indigestion just thinking about it! He coughed several more times.
"Will you quit that?" admonished Pritch. "You sound like Millicent coughing up a hairball."
"Have you seen her do that? It's wicked."
"It's disgusting," said Pritch
"Oh come on, Pritch, don't tell me you've never eaten something as a animagus that didn't agree with your wizard stomach?"
"My wizard brain is in control of my animagus' stomach," said Pritch cooly. "Of course it must be difficult when the animagus has more sense than the wizard—"
There was the hiss of a spell, and then Pritch's laughter, growing softer as they passed down the corridor. "Missed. Don't have those hawk reflexes all the time, do you? or else ferrets are just faster."
"It's alright," said Ginny. "They were just a couple of the animagus students anyway, not sheiss," she told Visha.
"Sheiss," said Visha. "Bird is sheis."
"Oh come on now," admonished Ginny. "He's just a hawk. It's not like he's a phoenix or something."
Visha immediately slithered under her robe, up her arm to her shoulder.
"Get out of there," laughed Ginny. "You're tickling my armpit. Here. You stay at my neck." She took the basilisk out of her armpit through the neck of her robe, and settled it around her neck like a choker. "Stop being such a coward. You're a Gryffindor basilisk, now," she told Visha.
"Gryffindor?" said Visha. "Gryffin sheiss too."
"I'll explain later," Ginny told her as they arrived in the Snow Castle infirmary.
"Bitemates!" said Visha excitedly.
Samara was the only one still in the infirmary. The bright winter sunset was reflecting off of the ice and Ginny had opened the curtains to enjoy the few hours left of sun that the far north afforded them before sitting on one of the wing chairs near her bed. Visha joined Samara's horde on the bottom of her bed and the basilisks chattered happily for a few minutes before they decided to reacquaint themselves with each other by biting. At first, Samara tried to stop them, but Ginny just shook her head. "It's in their nature, Samara. It isn't going to stop." Finally they settled down, sleeping peacefully in the sun.
After a while, Ginny broached the subject of Samara's long magical sleep. "I had a strange dream, said Samara. I guess it was more like a vision. No. That's not right either. It was an alternate reality. I was so immersed in the Elementals I could literally become another person."
"Some muggles believe that, you know," said Ginny. "That you can be born as someone else. That your soul, waits for a chance—a new body--"
Tom's thought flashed across her mind. Salazar waiting in the Chamber for a body to possess, and she shivered.
"What is it, Ginny?" asked Samara, reaching toward her.
"Are you more tuned to this aura thing since you woke up, because you seem different somehow. You're not missing a thing."
"I guess I am," said Samara. "My aura used to be primarily green, a healer's color. Now it is fraught with indigo and violet, but it's not my insights that have changed it. It is the insights of the people who I became in the Elementals." Samara paused thoughtfully. "You have no idea how strange it is to see something through another's eyes. To live in someone elses' skin for a while."
"You'd be surprised," said Tom dryly.
"Shut up, Tom," Ginny thought "I want to know what she has to say."
Samara squinted her eyes at Ginny's aura as if to see it better, but said nothing else about it. Instead she began telling Ginny about how she visited every part of the globe in different muggles and how she lived and recognized wizards in the Elementals and finally how the healer had told her to come back to heal this rift thing. Did you know that there used to be two completely separate worlds, muggle and magic?
"I knew that," said Ginny, but they collided a long time ago and now we are one world
"And then this other wizard came. He looked a little like you, but spoke more like Aldwin. Do you know Aldwin Ogleby?
"Not really," said Ginny. "I've seen him around school. That's all."
"Anyway, this wizard said, I have to help the sparrow find the eye of the serpent. I don't understand. Do you know anyone who is a sparrow animagus?"
"No," said Ginny shaking her head. "Just a hawk."
"That wasn't it," said Samara with certainty.
Visha stirred in her sleep trying to wriggle closer to the other basilisks. She was already almost dead center of the pack.
"Look at her," laughed Ginny. "She loves coming to visit you.
"I know," said Samara. "and the others love having her here. You know," Samara continued. "I don't think Salazar knows quite how to handle siblings."
Ginny laughed. "I doubt it," she said. "He's never had more than one basilisk at a time."
"Never," said Samara. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," said Ginny "and now each of the basilisks is as imprinted to each other as they are to the wizard handler. I think maybe more so. Plus, they have three of us to choose from—"
"Not really," said Samara. "The ones he imprinted are totally his. Ick!" she shivered.
"What's wrong?" asked Ginny.
"They just aren't very friendly that's all," answered Samara. "They want to eat or bite everything in sight."
"Well, that is a basilisk's nature," said Ginny.
"So why are these ones so sweet?" asked Samara.
"They are sweet to us—to each other," said Ginny, "But you really don't know what they would do if one of us were in danger."
"We should work on that," said Samara suddenly.
"What's that?" asked Ginny.
"(Danger signals,)" replied Samara, switching to parseltongue and Ginny nodded.
"(I think that's a good idea,)" Ginny said. "(But I really don't think I could ask my basilisk to kill anyone for me.)"
"(Kill mistress' enemies,)" said Salacia raising her head with interest."(And eat their death, Sissshausss!)"
"(Enemies,)" said Ginny thinking that at one time it would have taken some convincing for her to believe she had enemies.
"Everyone has enemies," said Tom.
"(I just don't think I could kill them,)" said Ginny.
"(Me either,)" said Samara with a smirk, "(But I could make them miserable for a while.)"
Ginny was still talking to Samara when Draco came in. His aura deepened in disappointment that Samara was not alone, but he said nothing and sat on the edge of Samara's bed.
Samara smirked at him.
"You're looking a lot better than you were last night," he said.
"I got my wand back," she said happily. "And we talked for a long while about the basilisk whose skin is in my wand."
"You talked to Him?" said Draco.
Samara nodded.
Draco and Ginny were both sitting with Samara when the owl came. It flew frantically at the window, banging into it in its haste. "Weasel, do a privacy ward," said Draco as holding his wand in his left hand, he removed the glass, and the owl flew in collapsing immediately on the bed. Draco frowned at Ginny. "Didn't I tell you to do a privacy ward?" said Draco. "What's wrong with you? Did I forget to say please?"
"As a matter of fact, you did," said Ginny, "Anyway, no one's here now."
"Gosh! What's wrong with it," wondered Samara petting the exhausted owl and Ginny turned to it, doing a rudimentary medical assessment spell on it. "It has a stealth, stamina and speed spell on it. That's enough to practically kill it alone, but I think it was apparated at least 200 miles before its journey began too. Whoever sent this owl ought not to be allowed to own owls!"
"Why would someone do that?" snapped Samara. "They had to realize that the bird couldn't handle that much magic."
"Obviously, they were in a hurry to get me the message," said Draco wincing as he pulled off the message.
"You wouldn't get it if the bird was dead," said Samara, petting it. Suddenly it shivered and died in her hands.
"Oh-h-" said Samara sadly.
"It's just an owl," muttered Draco as he read the message silently and his aura went through yellow to blue and back to red to orange. Then he tucked it into his robe, but Samara frowned, putting the bird down at the bottom of the bed, much to the basilisk's dismay. "Accio!" she said, pulling the note off of him. After the dying owl and that rainbow display, there was no way she was letting him walk away with that note without her seeing it.
He dove for it, scrambling with her for the parchment, until she pulled her wand. "You know I'll curse you," she promised.
"You've been sick," said Draco. "You shouldn't do magic yet."
"Who says?" While still holding her wand on him she opened the note.
"Samara please," he said. "It's better if you don't know what it says. I don't want him to be able to find out through his legilmency."
"Oh pfaw," said Samara as she opened the note and read.
Hi Cousin,
Don't use your portkey. Our friends are under house arrest because of their Christmas Eve activities. No portkeys, no apparitions, no fun. But they are in a bloody hurry for our rematch. I told them they can't beat us at double Quit, but stubbornness runs in the family, I guess, and who knows what will happen if we don't show up. Father Christmas might pop in at your place and bring some unexpected surprises. I told them to meet us at that muggle library ASAP. Their problem to get there, Your problem to find it. You could apparate here and we'll go together. You know me. I know where all the libraries are, even the muggle ones. From there maybe we can stir a little havoc. You know collect some blood, fingernails or even that other item you spoke of. Now I know Dad won't have any problem with me going to the library. Can you get out? Set the time, and make it soon.
Kisses and curses,
Lauren
PS. If I didn't calculate correctly take care of my owl.
"Portkey?" said Samara, confused.
Ginny scooted out of the way, as he tried to accio the note while Samara read but she was ready for him. Then he tried to snatch it off of her several times, but she anticipated his moves as if she could read his mind, once batting his right arm rather roughly and he winced.
"Ow!"
"Oh, sorry. Forgot about your arm, said Samara.
"He might be right, Ginny Love," said Tom, and Ginny joined Draco, unexpectedly accioing the note from her friend. She barely glanced at it, before Tom said, "I got it."
"What did you do that for?" snapped Samara and Draco took the note left handed from Ginny's grasp.
"What happened to your arm?' asked Ginny.
"Broke it yesterday," answered Draco.
"But if you broke it yesterday," said Ginny. "It should be fine."
"Not set until this morning," replied Draco.
"I don't understand," said Ginny trying to look over his shoulder. "What is it, some kind of code?"
Draco sighed and folded the note.. "Samara might be able to hide something from him. I know you can't."
"And you can?" questioned Ginny incredulous.
"Snape has had me practicing this non-stop since first year—"
"Occlumency? You?" Ginny laughed.
"Why is that so funny? I know it's a gift but there are wards against legilmency. Snape just didn't want me to be a Death Eater, but believe me, blocking my parents and blocking him are two entirely different things. It's dangerous."
His eyes sparkled and Samara punched him, apparently seeing more than his eyes sparkling. "Quit being a prat, Draco."
"I didn't do anything," he protested.
"Your aura said otherwise," replied Samara.
He threw up his hands in defeat. "I don't even have to do anything wrong," he complained. "My aura's wrong and I'm in trouble with her—"
"I know what you mean," said Ginny with a half smile on her lips
And Tom burst into laughter.
Then so did Ginny. "Quit it Tom. I hate when you do that," she thought.
"Where were you going to portkey to –or who?," asked Samara seriously. "and who's Father Christmas?"
Draco didn't answer.
"It's Dumbledore isn't it?" asked Samara.
Draco still didn't answer.
"It is," said Samara. "He knows where we are."
"Bloody hell, Samara. Shut up. You may have some chance of keeping this from Him, but Virginia doesn't! I swear if you don't shut up on your own, I will shut you up."
"Ha!' spat Samara. "Can't do it."
"Bet me." He leaned in to her shifting the bed covers and causing the basilisks to hiss their discomfort.
"You're dreaming, Draco."
"Bet me."
He pushed her against the pillows.
"I don't want to hurt your arm," said Samara, but Draco seemed not to care, pinning her with his weight.
"You're on," Samara said, but he smothered her comment with a kiss. For a moment the basilisks scattered hissing in anger, but in another moment, they came back, snuggling close to their heat and their magic. The dead owl fell to the floor with a soft plunk.
"Oh—watch the owl," said Samara.
"Incendio," said Draco cremating the bird without setting the carpet on which it sat on fire. However, the room instantly was filled with the stink of burnt feathers.
"Yuk," complained Samara "Now it stinks in here. Was that Elemental fire? You used Fire didn't you?"
"Visha?" Ginny said anxiously, as Draco pulled his wand and left handed performed an air cleaning spell then still one-handed started to ward her out. The entire group of basilisks were hissing wildly.
"Visha?" she said again, as Samara giggling, pushed the serpent apart from her own, and Ginny gathered the basilisk up into her arms. "I guess I'll see you later," said Ginny hesitantly.
The privacy ward snapped shut.
"Nice magic," commented Visha wistfully.
"I'm sorry," said Ginny. "Did you want to stay with them?"
"No. Mistress always has double magic."
"Double?" said Ginny. "You can feel Tom?"
"Tom?" said Visha confusedly. "Two magics. It is not a sissshauss?"
"Tom? My sisshauss?" Ginny burst out laughing.
"It's not funny," said Tom dryly.
A tap on the door of the room Ron and Harry were sharing, preceded it's opening. Neville peered in, saying nothing.
"Hi," said Hermione softly.
"Merry Christmas," added Harry in a whisper.
"Hardly Merry," commented Neville.
"No," said Harry, and Hermione jumped off of the bed to embrace Neville. For once Ron didn't say a word.
"We're so sorry about your Grandmum," said Hermione, while she held him tightly. "I'm sure she'll be alright. The medi-witches at St. Mungos are really good."
"Sirius said you went to your house Hermione and saved your parents right from under Voldemort's wand," commented Neville.
"What?" said Ron.
"Sirius was so proud of you."
"He was?" said Harry.
Neville looked from one to the other slowly as if assessing them. "First Hermione's parents and then your house Harry and then mine. Your family, Ron, was the only one spared," said Neville.
"Oh yeah," said Ron hotly. "He just has my sister. That hardly counts as family."
"I just—I meant—Oh, I'm sorry." Neville burst into tears.
"Don't worry about it, Neville," said Ron. "We're all a little edgy."
Neville sniffed, pulling a handkerchief out of his robe pocket and his wand along with it, which clattered to the floor. As he picked it up, he looked at the discarded wrappings on the bed and commented, "I don't have any gifts. Even if I did, everything burned—" He choked. "I never saw such a fire—never—Trevor died—I forgot about him—I--" Neville sobbed, "I can't believe I just forgot him."
"You had a lot to think of," said Hermione.
"She was there—" Neville continued. "Valeriana Lestrange, but not her husband, and the Malfoy's—"
"Draco?" asked Hermione.
Neville shook his head. "No, Lucius and Narcissa. They were laughing like it was some sort of joke. They taunted Grandmum. I wanted her to stay inside."
"Didn't you have a portkey or something?" asked Harry. "Couldn't you make one—you or your grandmother?"
"No," said Neville. "We didn't try to portkey. They set anti-apparition wards at first, but I couldn't have apparated anyway. I tried to use the floo, but all I could do was call for help."
"Ministry emergency?" asked Harry.
"Yes," said Neville, and Harry sucked in his breath. "They never came," he whispered. "Why didn't they come? Grandmum said she wasn't so old that she couldn't keep them from destroying her home. She thought the aurors would come—But they never did."
"After—" Neville took a deep breath trying to get control of himself "Grandmum went to the door, just like Mum and Dad did." His voice broke as he spoke and the tears rolled steadily down his face. She hit Valeriana first thing. I don't know what she did. Something purple and wicked. Valeriana fell immediately, but then she had both Narcissa and Lucius to deal with. I kept begging her to get back inside, especially when I realized the aurors weren't coming, but instead she pushed forward. I went with her. She told me to go back inside, but I didn't. Then another Death Eater attacked Grandmum from behind. I saw. I tried. I tried to help her. I missed. I was so stupid. My hands were shaking and I missed. If the Death Eater had wanted to kill Grandmum, she would be dead, but the Death Eater said, "Let's play, Longbottom, like old times" and then said the curse, and Grandmum fell. I knew it was bad the moment the spell hit her. I'm so useless," he muttered.
"No you're not, Neville," said Harry. "You saved her." Snape said the ward held. "That was your ward, wasn't it?"
Neville nodded. "I don't even know how I got her back inside. I just kept thinking nothing was going to touch us and I used that shield spell we learned and I kept throwing out anything I could think of to keep the Death Eaters busy, but I wasn't fast enough and half way through, the whole house exploded around us. The anti-apparition wards went down then. I probably could have used the floo too—"
"But you finished the ward," said Hermione. "Even though the fire was already there, you finished the ward. That's what saved you."
"No," said Neville. "Snape saved us. I got the ward up, and then I remembered Snape saying that Sleeping wards sometimes delayed dark magic so I did Somnus on Grandmum, and then there was another explosion and I heard Edward. Ethan and Edward Lestrange were there, laughing about the fire. I could feel the heat. The ward was vibrating with the power of their spells. I was afraid it wasn't going to hold much longer and then Snape apparated right beside me. He was—He was—"
"Wearing Death Eater robes?" Harry asked.
Neville nodded. "He even had his mask on, but I would recognize that voice anywhere. He told me to take the ward down."
"And you did!" said Ron surprised.
"Yes," said Neville, "He pulled off his mask and said Neville—He called me Neville—" He said, "Neville, you have to trust me. Take the ward down." And I did and then he apparated us here. It was over that fast.
"He could have apparated you to you-know-who," said Ron.
"He could have," said Neville, "But he didn't."
==
NOTES TO REVIEWERS:
Ah, yes, just like the poll, Neville seems to think that Snape is on the side of light. Hehehe.
If you would like to put your thoughts in about Snape's loyalties, come to the group at yahoo, TheSeersTruth, that's w-groups.yahoo(dot) com/group/TheSeersTruth
Fuz: Glad you like
Draco's wench: More Draco coming. Lots more Draco
Sky: How dare you forget to review. Neville on a killing spree? Are you kidding?
Kwai Chang Yoda Yes, Count this will. Snape, you want. Hmmmmm. Snape you shall have.
Dragonheart2: Huggles? Oh pleezze don't do that. I thought you were a Slytherin. Shivers. Now, about the lightswitch. Well, I'll let Draco explain later. Shocked that Volde wants Tonks on his side? Well, she isn't half-muggle. Her mother married a muggleborn, so she's a quarter. Bad enough though Lily Potter, well last time he saw her, he ended up a slug. It was just a gut reaction. Glad you liked the other stuff. Thanks for the long review. They are terrific muse boosters.
Reiven: You like Tonks? She's a Gryffindor! traitor! Ahhh. So sorry.
Lucius Malfoy Glad you enjoyed. I love putting a bit of humor in an otherwise depressing or action filled chapter. Laughs are always good. Well, almost always. Variety is good. Romance for Ginny? You want her to cheat on Tom? How would she get away with that? I think she has her hands full right now, but I will keep it in mind.
Trillium: Glad you liked Snape. I like him too. He's just awesome. I promise you will soon be able to say, I loved Snape in this chapter! Wait, he wasn't IN this chapter, but his handiwork was, and it was awesome. Just wrote some great Snape and I'm so excited to share it with you. Should I tell them? It's Snape/Valeriana? No it's not! Snape has better taste. Well, no it isn't really. It's more—no Don't tell them that. Shut up, Tom!
Garrett: Love to leave you hanging. So keep hanging around.
Ennui deMorte: You love the golden trio? Wow! That's a new one. Yes, I'm sure Volde would have known about lights. Tonks and her taunting. Tsk tsk. Snape saving the Longbottoms was fun to write. I could just see him sweeping in with those robes covered in tiny burn holes. Of course, the burn holes could have been from babysitting Ethan instead of burning muggles, you know. Since you all believe that Snape is light. He he he.
Adaneth: Don't worry about Vernon and Petunia dying. I'll give you someone to hate.
Silverfox1: Are you determined to end this fic? Of course they had to show up and save the trio. I'm not done with the story yet. There will be plenty of time for Gryffindor heroics and even time for Harry to contemplate the meaning of life and various breeds of bunny—OK that was mean. Sorry. Smirks. Lots of good stuff coming for the intrepid trio and of course, just for you, more Draco. Calling all Draco fans! More Draco. yum.
Kemenran: Of course.
Jager: I love the Death Eaters too for some reason. I think it's my warped mind. Whatta you think, Tom? Oh I forgot I told you to shut up, didn't I? Come back, Tom. Pleeze?
Terry: I know, fanfic was being pretty stubborn, but eventually, I got all your reviews. Thanks. I'm glad you like Samara and Hermione's house. Thanks for reading and reviewing.
Now, to the rest of you, TIME TO REVIEW…
15 REVIEWS TO THE NEXT CHAPTER.