The Seers' Truth: Beyond the Darkness
By Lady Lestrange
Chapter 38
Secrets of the Dark CircleDisclaimer: The Harry Potter characters and previous situations belong to JK Rowlings. No infrigement is meant or implied. No money is made from this Fanfic. Thanks JK.
-Lady Lestrange
Special thanks to my beta, ennui de mort who always does such a good job being my extra muse as well as proofreading, moral support and just plain fun. Be sure and visit the yahoo group, TheSeersTruth for more interesting discussion questions. Ennui de Morte created and maintains the site with great insights into the story. Invite your friends. Come and discuss.
15 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 the story. You guys are catching up to me, so maybe I should make it 20 reviews…
(A/N: I've been reading a number of fanfics in installments like this one myself, and find it is sometimes hard to remember exactly what has happened before-In a fic as complex as this one is, I thought having a reminder may be helpful for you. If you want to skip it, just page down.)
Up to this Point: Alternate 5th year book. Voldemort was uncertain which was the prophecy child, Samara or Ginny so he kidnapped them both. Beatrice made a mad dash after them in her animagus form. She has been since crucioed and rescued and returned to Hogwarts still in her bunny animagus form.
Harry, Ron and Hermione struggle to figure out how the prophecy might aid them. The trio travels to Hermione's house, Samara's house, the Riddle house and eventually the Snow Castle in search of the girls.
Ginny, who has a Dark Mark, is torn between the visions of Tom in her head and what to do to stay safe from Voldemort at the Snow Castle. Snape is an unexpected help to her.
Voldemort meanwhile has some unpleasant Christmas surprises in store for Harry and Neville. Neville's grandmother ends up in the hospital and the Dursley's are dead, leaving Snape as Harry's guardian.
Back at Hogwarts, the trio tries to ascertain how they will save the girls. They enlist Draco and Lauren's help.
Voldemort has some trouble within the ranks and sends Ethan to learn with Narcissa and Gloria. Meanwhile, the trio works out some differences with Draco, and miss a chance to save the girls. Now, Snape gives some timely advice and Harry invites Neville to their little planning gatherings, which ends in an altercation between Neville and Draco.
Voldemort sets his plans in motion by giving Samara the Dark Mark, but she is far from defeated by this. Ginny on the other hand is ready to give in to save her family. The plot continues as Volemort sets family members upon family members in a quest to destroy all who might thwart him.
Meanwhile, Harry considers the meaning of curcio and tries to puzzle out what Voldemort is doing by reading his scar pangs.
Ethan and Edward prove their worth to Voldemort and Beatrice is finally released from the bunny animagus.
Ginny, under polyjuice potion, is impersonating Madam Amelia Bones. She is following direct orders from Voldemort who is speaking to her in parseltongue from the small snake animagus she is carrying. She saves her father and her brother, but doesn't seem to be able to save herself.
However, Harry Potter and his trusty Gryffindor rescue squad is on the way. Unfortunately, they get waylaid. Ginny is unconscious and the girls are currently looking for the boys and wind up in Voldemort's dungeon with a slew of vampires and a three headed dragon. The boys, Harry, Ron and Draco are going to rescue the others from the veelas, but Valeriana and Narcissa get in the way-or not- Luckily the twins are armed with puppy puffs and a sense of humor. Now, the intrepid trio have some difficulty determining a course of action. It's no wonder! Perhaps, they should put it to a vote there are so many people involved in the decision. Well, as Dumbledore says, "it is the decisions we make, that make us the witches and wizards we are!" Such is never more true than in the case of Ginny Weasley. Will her decisions save her or damn her?
Ginny appears to have placed her trust in Tom. Is if for good or ill? At first glance it seems as if Tom is helping them, but he is also mercurial in nature and one can never be sure.
Do they at last escape the Snow Castle?
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Secrets of the Dark CircleChapter 38
"I want them found," spat Voldemort as he strode down the corridor. "I won't have a bunch of children making fools out of my best Death Eaters! Where's Chadburne with my creatures?" he snapped.
"I will find out," said one of his Death Eaters.
"You do that," snapped Voldemort. He frowned and ground to a halt and the Death Eaters with him stopped abruptly trying not to run into him. He turned and glared at the Death Eater who had promised to find Chadburne. "Well, go!" he said, throwing a painful but relatively innocuous curse at him as the Death Eater ran down a side corridor. He narrowed his eyes as he searched ahead.
Voldemort realized a group of—something was coming down the corridor enmass. Chadburne was not with them. At the forefront was someone he recognized from long ago—Darla, looking like her fifteen-year-old self, but of course she was not one of Helga's fifteen-year-old Hufflepuff students. She was a vampire, and she was not alone. He uttered a vulgarity that was rarely heard outside of Knockturn. He was all too willing to throw some of the Death Eaters to the vampires rather than subjecting himself to their bite, but it wouldn't work. He immediately stepped back into the group of Death Eaters-not enough-only five. Five Death Eaters would have trouble defending against five vampires. Where the hell was Chadburne and his crew?
When Salazar had captured the vampires, he had sent them to their prison, hungry and potion deprived and even then, he used a ten to one ratio of Death Eaters to Vampires. They were more dangerous than the Werewolves, and nearly as brutal as the giants. He brought only a few at a time to the Snow Castle. The rest were kept at Azkaban with the less controllable creatures. However, he was confident that he would not be bitten. He was careful, and he had a thousand years of experience with undead creatures of various kinds. Being bitten would be a severe inconvenience. Aside from the puncture itself, the wound was painful due to the vampire's saliva which kept the blood from coagulating. Even the toxicity of the vampire blood within his own immortality potion was painful. He knew more than he wanted to about that from Legilimency with some of the vampires, not the least of which was Darla herself. He immediately looked around for his Death Eaters, using them as a living shield.
"Oh Sal," said Darla. "Or should I call you Professor Slytherin?" Her young face scrunched up with laughter as she continued. He couldn't help but remember her face lighting up the same way when she got a spell right in his class so many years ago. He glanced behind her at the others, also obviously vampires.
"Your Death Eaters were fools long before you invited the children. After all, they followed you, Professor. Should I call you Professor? We are, after all, contemporaries among these youthful souls." She gestured nonchalantly to those in the corridor.
"Who released you?" asked Voldemort.
"Oh, I think that's the wrong question." She sucked on one of her own bloody fingernails. "I think you should ask who is going to cage us again?"
Voldemort pulled his wand, thinking the pain of a spell may loosen her tongue, but what to use? He wanted her coherent to tell him who the children were that released her. "Where are they?" he demanded.
"Oh dear," drawled Darla, "A mini stake! Should I be afraid?" Darla smirked. "You don't have the power to penetrate this old skin," she predicted, and then she frowned. "Whatever happened to your staff, Professor? I remember you laughing at the other professors, saying your magic couldn't be contained in such a—small vessel." She leered at him, winking, the expression odd on her youthful face. "Lost some of your magic, did you? What will you do with that—small vessel?"
He tensed. He wanted very badly to curse her, but he knew from experience she was both faster and stronger than he was. The only way to subdue her was to overpower her with a number of Death Eaters or to wait until she was starving and willing to do anything for blood. That would not be for a while though, he thought as he noted the pallor of her skin was diminished, allowing her to almost pass as mortal even though she was a thousand years old. She had eaten recently. He wondered who it was.
She shrugged and grinned at him; a cheeky grin that would have earned her some time in punishment if she were still his pupil. "Well, maybe if you sharpened the end of your wand it would be more formidable," she suggested helpfully. She paused and brushed back her brown hair. "You know if you curse me with it, it's just going to make me really, really mad, that is if you manage to hit me. Not only that, I seem to remember you had a bit of a skin problem when you used your wand in the past. Am I right?"
He sucked in his breath. How could she know that? He wanted so much to Legilimize her but vampires were nearly impossible to read and considering her age and possible thrall powers, it was better to keep his attention in the present.
"Definitely," Darla agreed with his thought. "You don't want to see what sort of mind powers I have cultivated," she said mockingly. "Your example was such an inspiration—Professor," she spat the word as if it were foul and he felt magic pooling in his hands regardless to the fact that her speed would make her nearly impossible to hit. Of course, if he hit her, Avada Kedavra would hurt her. Reduce her to a quivering mass of muscle, but it wouldn't kill her. It probably wouldn't loosen her tongue though. Perhaps Imperius—
"Imper—" began Voldemort, but Darla chortled with laughter and pushed his wand away, leaping to safety before he could complete the spell.
"Much as I won't die, your magic hurts!" she called from the rafters above him. "You remember, don't you Sal? All those excruciating experiments with death?" Darla smirked, laying a finger against her lips as she dropped back to the floor and took a step towards him. "Ah the good old days," she whispered. "Of course I might be able to help you. Are you still lusting after immortality?" She smiled, showing her blood-tinged fangs and took another step closer. "I can help you with that, of course, being one of the undead might not be what you had in mind, I know it wasn't top of my list of things to do, and of course it hurts, too."
He forced himself to remain still, his wand ready in front of him, Death Eaters flanking him. If she attacked, he wasn't sure if he would actually use his wand magically or as a stake as she suggested. He knew he didn't want to turn his back on her. He didn't delude himself into thinking his Death Eaters would be fast enough to save him. He decided that Incendio would work. It was simpler and therefore faster
"It hurts a lot," she said gliding yet closer. "Now, wouldn't that be a switch?" She turned to the Death Eaters who flanked him. "Want to hear your Master scream?" she asked softly, but neither answered. Instead, they took a step back away from her, fear evident on their faces.
"I've had enough," snapped Voldemort. He was ready to cast Incendio and lose any chance to interrogate her. Although he knew she couldn't die from it because she was too fast, but she would probably get burned if he used a wide spell. It might take out a few of his Death Eaters too, but he was not concerned about that. He stepped back so that he was once again flanked by his Death Eaters.
"But I haven't…had enough," crooned Darla. "I'm enjoying myself immensely. You know, it might be easier to take if a vampire makes a fool of your best Death Eaters," said her soft voice. "Better than children—by the way, thanks for the dragon. Tasty." She smacked her lips in an exaggerated way and bared her blood stained teeth in a macabre grin. "You can't tempt me with those." She gestured to the Death Eaters and they again took a step back. "I'm not hungry."
"So Professor," she said sweetly, "what have you been up to lately, besides throwing innocent people into your dungeons for no reason except your own sick little pleasures?"
Lazily, Voldemort let the magic pool in his left hand while he held the wand on her with his right. Perhaps she would drop some information about who freed her without being asked. He decided to humor her. After all, Hufflepuffs were notoriously chatty. "You stretch the limits of imagination calling yourself a person," he said.
"Oh? What about your Squibs?" asked Darla. "That's right, I forgot," said Darla sarcastically. "You don't call them people either. But it might interest you to know, I made it my personal goal in life—oh well—in death to drain or turn every one of them, along with your wizarding offspring. Well, except the one that Godric offed. Oh, you didn't know that?" said Darla covering her mouth as if she had made a mistake. "Oh dear, silly me.
"I'll attribute it to the fact that you were in Hufflepuff house," said Voldemort, barely containing his rage.
"Oh yes, Hufflepuff house. It has been a long time. Long time, no experiments. I have a lot to tell you actually. I should get the highest NEWTS on death spells. You see, I learned a lot about life and death in the last 1000 years, Professor." She laid the irony on the last word and smirked.
"I'm bursting with anticipation," said Voldemort dryly as he waved several of his Death Eaters forward to take her, but she hissed at them, and they backed off instinctively.
I'll deal with them later, thought Voldemort as he committed their faces to memory for later Crucios.
"You are lucky none of us are hungry," said Darla, waving to the others behind her. "I must tell you thanks for the buffet. As a matter of fact, you may be upset with the younger Death Eaters right now, but I think they are quite—um—delectable, and now, Sal, where are you manners? Say hello to your children." She turned, waving some of the vampires from behind her into sight. "They are my children, too, now," she said. "I sired all your Squibs. Of course they aren't all here. You missed a few. I do want you to know, yours are my only children. Do you think Helga would be jealous?" Darla laughed.
"Don't malign Helga," warned Voldemort, his eyes narrowing.
"Moi!" said Darla with a look of disbelief. "I'm a Hufflepuff. I'm loyal. You maligned Helga enough all on your own, Professor. Poor Helga," Darla reminisced. "Do you know how much she suffered before she died? Before she decided she would rather die than watch you sell out her principles, picking off her Hufflepuffs."
"I did not pick off her Hufflepuffs!" Voldemort roared.
"Oh? You do know that was why she died, don't you? You know—the prophecy?"
"What do you know about that prophecy?" asked Voldemort in a low deadly voice.
"Oh, do you think I should tell you out of the goodness of my Hufflepuff heart?" she asked cheekily. "I don't think so—After all, what can you do to me? Take house points?" She giggled girlishly.
"I never did take house points!'
"I remember," said Darla. "No, you didn't take house points. You didn't even cane us. Instead, you had those practical detentions in the Forbidden Forest—or your lab."
"No one was hurt—"
"Everyone was hurt!" she roared. "Tell your children that no one was hurt!" She gestured to the cluster of vampires behind her.
"These were not my children," hissed Voldemort. "You lie."
"Of course they are," said Darla. "Look how fair I was. I was far more equitable than you were with me. You damned me when I was still a child. I waited for them to grow up. Of course, some of them have your tastes and haven't waited for their prey to mature. For them, I must thank you for inviting us to the Snow castle buffet." She gave a slight bow and stepped forward a little. Voldemort backed away.
"Afraid?" she asked, cocking her head and tucking her hair carefully behind her ear in a gesture reminiscent of her fifteen-year-old self.
"No!"
"Ah, I understand," she said. "I, too, am afraid of nothing. It comes with living so long I think. Nothing causes me any fear. Not death or pain. Not even your pitiful attempts at torture or the Elementals."
Voldemort startled. How could anyone not fear losing his or her essence in the Elementals? She spoke brave words, but he didn't believe her. Nonetheless, she raised her hands out like a Madonna, embracing the world. "Stake me, Salazar, unless you are afraid. Finish the job you started."
"I never meant for you to get bitten, Darla," said Voldemort. "You were only the bait. I talked about this with you—"
"No," snapped Darla. "Tom talked with me about this, not you. You called me—" she paused, "what was the term—A Necessary Casualty, I believe."
"You were supposed to escape."
"Yes, and you were supposed to stay stuck in the diary," said Darla. "We can't all get what we want, but I'll tell you who did escape: One little Squib girl got away. I was disappointed at the time, but I suppose Helga's prophecy had to be fulfilled."
"What do you know about that? Tell me!" snapped Voldemort, his eyes flashing fire. "Tell me her prophecy." If this vampire knew anything about the prophecy that had eluded him for a thousand years, he would get it out of her. He searched his memory for any way that he could force a vampire to give up her secrets. There had to be a spell, if only he could think of it.
"Oh, come now, if Helga died to keep it from you, far be it from me to tell you the intimate details. I'm still a Hufflepuff you know. I'm loyal to my house and loyal to my revenge."
"Yes, you are still a Hufflepuff," said Voldemort. "If you had such a secret you could not have kept it for a thousand years. You don't know. You're bluffing." But he didn't really believe she was bluffing. Hufflepuffs didn't have the cunning to pull off a bluff, but what they did have was a network of gossip that was never ending. If Helga told anyone in Hufflepuff, it should have been out in the open years ago. She couldn't have told anyone, he concluded. She simply did not know. Helga took the secret to her grave. Darla might know of the prophecy, but she didn't know what it said.
"Why should I tell you anything? You have nothing to bargain with Salazar," she taunted him. "I've just partaken of an unnaturally large dragon, and you remember how much I like dragon blood, don't you. Almost as good as human. Oh, I have to introduce you to my first childe. You never had a chance to meet your great, great grandson, Damascus. By that time, you had already locked yourself away in that gruesome Chamber of Secrets."
"That creature is not related in any way to me," snapped Voldemort as he looked at the vampire. The vampire appeared to be in his early twenties, and his eyes flashed fire like his grandfather's.
"Do you want to know about the little Squib girl who got away?" Darla asked. "She, of course, was Tom's ancestor. Without him, you would have stayed locked in that Chamber and everyone would have continued to spread stories about the monster in the Chamber of Secrets." Darla licked her lips and some of the vampires with her shuffled.
"Now that Diary," continued Darla. "That was pure genius. 'So you'd gotten out of the hat,' Tom had said. 'I should be able to put him back into another object, like a book.' I liked that boy. Is he still present in this mess of scales and rot you call a body?"
"He has no power," said Voldemort. "That's what happens to people who displease me."
Darla nodded. "He had the right idea about you. Lock you away forever. I did myriads of research for him, trying to find out exactly how to keep you in that book once you got out of the hat."
At last, Voldemort saw Chadburne returning with his group, and he silently Imperioed several Death Eaters into rushing her, with multiple Incendio spells. The other vampires were pushed back and Salazar thought, even if he lost a few Death Eaters, he would still have Chadburne's group.
Darla bit two before she was caught, by their combined efforts, and she smiled at Salazar before she fell, engulfed in their binding spells. She looked strangely innocent, even with blood on her lips and her hair falling into her piercing black eyes. "You know, Sal," she said, "You look really bad for an immortal. Are you sure you are going to live forever, or did hell just spit you back out?"
>
Harry looked at Hermione. She was struggling to hold the illusion in place on Voldemort's door. She was so bedraggled she hardly looked like his friend. Her hair was singed and her robes where covered with soot. Beads of sweat had caused her normally curly hair to cling in damp tendrils to her face and neck, and she looked more exhausted than he had ever seen her. Fear shone in her eyes.
Her face contorted with the stress of holding the illusion and trying to talk to him. "Don't talk," he said.
"Harry!" she begged. "Don't do anything foolish!" Then the strain of the past few hours suddenly caught up with her, and the illusion flickered violently, cracking like fine crystal and falling away as the wizard with long white hair and billowing blue robes approached.
Harry pulled his wand and stepped in front of Tom, past Hermione's broken illusion, away from Fred who was still moaning softly on the floor and holding his eyes.
He wasted no time on formalities. He knew this was not Dumbledore and he had no intention of pretending. "Snape," Harry said his voice filled with the deepest loathing. The others who were able, came back into the doorway and pulled their wands. Samara and Draco remained with the injured.
Hermione waited a moment and then stopped trying to rebuild the illusion of a shut door and empty corridor. Instead, she followed Harry into the hall. She, too, pulled her wand.
The image of Dumbledore paused, but made no attempt to convince Harry or the others that what they saw was the real Dumbledore. Snape looked at the open door and for just a moment surprise was evident on his face. Then he strode forward, making no attempt to defend himself. "Idiots," he snarled as he looked past them at the cursed Gryffindors.
Wands were trained on him, but Snape didn't move to pull his own wand. He crossed his arms and glared at Harry. "I'm surprised you didn't bring a few first years to get killed, too, Potter. Did you invite half of Gryffindor to this little party?"
Harry felt rage bubbling inside of him, but Snape continued undaunted, shoving Harry towards the open doorway to Voldemort's rooms. "Get out of here," he snarled. "You should have been gone already."
"There were alarms, weren't there?" asked Ginny. "On Salazar's door."
Snape nodded. He took his eyes from the group long enough to cast a worried glance down the corridor. "Just go," he said looking at the bedraggled crew.
"I'm not going anywhere you traitorous son-of-a-bitch," snarled Ron as he roused himself from the Sectum hex. "You killed him! You killed Dumbledore!"
"Albus?" said Snape.
"We heard you bragging to Voldemort!" spat Harry.
"We've hexed you before—" said Ron.
Snape whirled around on Ron, shoving him through the door towards the floo with a completely un-Dumbledore-like gesture. "You don't have time for this, Mr. Weasley. Move," he snapped, curling the Headmasters lips into a most unnatural snarl. "Or all we've done will be for nothing."
"But Dumbledore," said Hermione. "We saw his body."
"And you'll see it again at Hogwarts," snapped Snape.
Hermione gaped at him.
"Idiot girl! There's no way in hell I'd let Albus escape into death and leave me behind with no excuse to keep the Dark Lord out of my head! With all the torture I've suffered for that man and his principles, the people I have endured, to say nothing about his soddin' mutts. He'll damned well stay and suffer this cursed life with me. Now, get—"
"The potion," said Ginny, finally understanding. "The one Lily used."
Snape did not answer.
"Lily?" said Harry.
Snape's beetle black eyes took in the rest of the group, stopping as he noted Lauren. "Miss Avery," he said. "There is a ghost in Slytherin who will protect you. Move to that room and stay in it."
Lauren nodded. "Aunt Andromeda," she said.
"But why would Dumbledore—" began Ginny, and Snape's eyes narrowed as if he could see through walls or hear something far away. Abruptly, he shoved Harry into the room with the group of children and slammed the door shut without another word.
A moment later they all heard the pops of several apparitions in the corridor.
"Did you check the room?" asked an unfamiliar voice in the corridor.
"Hell no," said Snape. "Do you really think a bunch of children could get in there? But be my guest, if you want to brave His hexes—" There was a brief pause and a scraping along the floor. "One of them's bleeding," said Snape. There was another pause, and then Snape concluded, "Pureblood. It could be anybody."
There was a moment of muttering, and then silence.
"I don't think they Apparated," said Snape. "I don't see any signatures. Do any of you sense any?"
Several muttered responses were heard and then Snape again, "So they are running. They can't be far. Let's split up. Avery, you're with me."
>
Tom wanted to dive immediately into the floo, but he paused, forcing himself to assess the situation. He should re-ward the door. He listened intently as the Death Eaters moved from the door. Something in his very being demanded that he resist the urge to act rashly. Never hurry. Never appear flustered or ruffled. Never let them know you are not in complete control. He gestured towards the cold fireplace. "I believe our way to Hogwarts awaits us," he said cooly.
The group looked at the floo, but Harry caught his arm. "You know something about my mother, don't you?" he asked.
Tom nodded but didn't elaborate. He pulled himself immediately out of Harry Potter's grasp. The feeling of his fingers closing around his arm had reminded him forcefully of the number of times he had been dragged to the confinement room in the cold cellar of the orphanage with the matron's fingers around his arm in just that way. He struggled to bury those memories.
"Look at this room," suggested Ginny. "See it with the fire burning wizard green."
Tom took a moment to look around the room of his nemesis and his jailor. The suite of rooms was meticulously neat decorated in grays and browns and a minimum of green. The colors were of rock and sand, not living things. It was a somewhat austere room, reminding Tom of the Chamber of Secrets or the dungeon at Hogwarts, except the floor was not stone. The carpet beneath his feet was lush and golden and the room was warm and comfortable. Perhaps a little too warm, thought Tom, as he halted the group's progress. A sense of unease made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle with anxiety. He sensed a presence, but perhaps it was not here, or was it guarding the floo? He forced himself to look.
Beyond the sitting area was an open door to a bedroom. Tom could see the huge mahogany bed and dressers and the floo fireplace they had been searching for. It appeared empty and cold. Beyond were several other cupboards and shelves which contained various potions and books; which Tom thought might have belonged to the Rosiers, but nothing in the room betrayed the personal relationships of the rooms' current occupant. There were no pictures or clothing. All of the books were clean and well maintained. No doubt some house elf would be severely punished if the room weren't in order.
A single lavender rose stood in a vase on the mantle, but it looked somewhat bedraggled. Some petals were obviously missing, torn away, still the rose survived. That seemed strange for a rose in mid winter, and Tom looked hard at the rose, finally realizing what he was seeing. It was a forever-rose. It would bloom as long as the maker loved the recipient. It seemed inconceivable that the rose had been given to Salazar, especially since it was still blooming, and Tom reached out to touch it, but something at that moment drew Tom's eyes back to the bed.
Curled amid several rust and gold and green colored cushions, neatly camouflaged, was Nagini. She was sound asleep. She was as big around as his arm now, he couldn't see how long she was since she was coiled, but she was beautiful. He just stood and looked at her for a moment. He knew that unlike the basilisks, Nagini would not recognize his magic. She would not know him. He remembered when he got her and with the help of his magic, he wore her on his wrist beneath his robe to class, just like Harry Potter wore Shesha, until some Hufflepuff saw her and carried tales to Dippit. He wasn't sure which Hufflepuff it was—Bones or Abbott. They were interchangeable in his mind. Bloody tale telling gits, afraid of their own shadows. He kept Nagini in his dorm room then. She was one of the first of his secrets. Once she was his familiar, but now she belonged to Salazar: Salazar, who had taken everything from him. She would tell Salazar they were here. She had to be silenced.
The movement of a wand beside him caught his eye, and in a moment, he had grabbed the arm and deflected the spell. "Stupefy!" said Harry Potter. The spell went wide and missed the big snake. With a hiss, Nagini awoke and rose up threateningly. The basilisks all instantly became alert.
"Ginny!" Harry snapped but even Harry seemed to realize that he wasn't talking to Ginny. "Stay out!" Harry snapped to the others that rushed to the doorway of the bedroom to see what had happened.
Tom in that same moment realized that he had not needed to deflect the spell. He had thought Harry Potter would kill Nagini, but he had only used Stupefy. "(Be still!)" Tom hissed to all the basilisks.
"(Stupid babies,)" hissed Nagini, uncoiling as she moved.
"I thought you would kill her," Tom said softly to Harry.
"Why would I?" asked Harry.
"(Long ago, Master promised Harry Potter would be mine,)" said Nagini. "(He has come as promised)." Nagini stirred, slithering closer to Harry.
"(No, not yet,)" said Tom.
Harry kept his wand poised on the snake, but Shesha, silent and deadly, had slithered to the bottom of the bed, within striking distance of Nagini. She was inching closer with tiny, imperceptible movements.
"(Soon he will be too big,)" muttered Nagini.
"Stay hidden, Visha. Do not move. Do not frighten her," said Tom in his mind as he inched forward. "(Come to me, Nagini,)" demanded Tom, but Nagini didn't take her eyes from Harry.
"(Why should I?)" she asked. "(You are nothing but one of Master's toys.)"
Tom, in a lightening quick movement, grasped the snake behind the head in an expert grip. Unfortunately, Ginny's hand was neither as big nor as strong as Tom's own. Nagini twisted instantly, striking, and wrapping herself around his arm squeezing, but then two things happened almost simultaneously. Harry fired off another, "Stupefy!" and Shesha struck. Nagini shuddered and collapsed, unconscious.
"Are you alright?" Harry asked Ginny as he grasped her forearms. "Did she bite you?"
Tom resisted the urge to immediately Legilimize Harry when he touched him; there was really nothing more he could learn, and the habit was Salazar's, not his own. Instead, he twisted out of Harry's grip and held out Ginny's hand to show Harry the two scratchlike marks. Ginny's fingers had turned slightly blue from lack of circulation, and there was bruising coloring her arm. "Luckily Nagini didn't get a good grip and I would think the basilisk venom I've taken should give me some manner of immunity to any snake bite anyway... It's hurting, but I'm sure it will be OK. She's not venomous." Tom explained.
Visha was railing angrily. "(Why did you order me to be still? Now you are hurt and you shouldn't have been hurt by that—that—)" Visha stuttered, unable to find a epithet strong enough for what she felt. "(That zis!)" she spat at last.
Tom laughed at her. "(I'm alright, Visha,)" he reassured the basilisk.
"(You could have been suffocated. It doesn't take her kind long to squeeze the life from one as small as you,)" Visha complained.
"(You didn't kill her?)" snapped Tom to Visha, suddenly worried about Visha's vehemence.
"(Of course not,)" said Visha. "(She was only following her stupid animal instincts. How could I kill her for being a snake?)"
Tom had to admit to Ginny and to himself that he had overestimated the power in Ginny's hands. Physically she was quite weak and her hands were pitifully small: her fingers much shorter than his. He needed to remember that. In a physical fight she had to use finesse, not strength.
"You allowed yourself—Ginny—to get bitten," Harry accused Tom. "If you hadn't deflected my spell…"
"I know," said Tom, but he didn't explain further. He walked past the big snake to the fireplace which was cold. He hissed, "Open," and with a wave of Harry's wand lit the fire in the fireplace and then tossed the wand back to Harry. Gesturing to the dancing flames he said, "You're first, right Malfoy?" He turned and walked back towards the first room
"Where are you going?" Harry demanded.
"I don't see the need to explain my every move to you," said Tom coolly. "That would get terribly awkward, don't you think?" His lips curled into a smirk as he walked past the others and began to re-ward Salazar's outer door.
"Do you want some help?" asked Lauren. Neville and Melisande had followed.
Back at the floo, Hermione helped Fred as he shuffled blindly towards the fire. "I wish we could go home," he said brushing the constant tears from his eyes..
"I wish we could go to the Burrow, too," said Ron. "But they will follow us eventually, won't they?"
"We are condemning whatever home we floo to," said Hermione, shivering with the effects of the dragon fire burns. "I wish there was somewhere warded."
"St. Mungo's?" muttered Fred.
"And condemn all the patients to whatever comes after us?" asked Hermione.
"At least we should try to floo near a medi-witch," added George as Ron helped him to his feet. George barely opened his bloodied mouth when he spoke, and he was clinging to his brother apparently uncaring of the state of Ron's bloodied robes. "Do you think I'm going to be blind, Fred?"
"It will be all right," Fred promised.
"If only we could go to Hogwarts directly," said Neville, still cradling his wounded arm. "We all need Madam Pomfrey, and only Draco has a Portkey to the infirmary."
"But none of the fires at Hogwarts—" began Harry, and then he stopped, looking at Ron, who was picking dried blood from his robe. They thought of it at the same time.
"Trelawney!" they said simultaneously.
"We're going to the North Tower," said Harry. "Her fire always burns no matter what rules she breaks."
"We're first," said Draco, stepping up to the fire with his arm around Samara. No one argued as Samara threw in a pinch of floo powder and shouted, "Hogwarts, North Tower." A moment later, Draco followed her. Hermione went next at Ron's insistence. The twins followed one after the other, Fred to the fire by Melisande and Neville, and George led by Ron, and then Ginny, because Ginny insisted she had to be last. Finally, there was only Ginny and Lauren and Harry still in Voldemort's chambers.
A long time passed and the group in Trelawney's room exchanged worried glances when at last Harry and Ginny wrapped in each others arms, stumbled through the floo and fell on the floor, a lavender forever-rose falling beneath their feet.
"Put out the fire," snapped Ginny as she picked up the rose and Trelawney complied.
"Oh dear," she said as the fire went out. She seemed to blink awake and saw them. "I should have notified Poppy that she would be needed." With a pop Trelawney was gone.
"No! No!" Harry shouted as he pulled out of Ginny's arms, pushing her away and relighting the fire. He turned, looking around wildly for floo powder, snatched the powder jar from the mantel and threw in a pinch of powder. The urn fell to the floor and shattered as he dove for the fire, shouting, "Snow Castle!" and then, "Rosier's home!" He thought for a moment and then tried, "Morsmordre!" None of the words worked. In frustration he smacked his fists on the floor, crying, "No! Damn him!" as Ron and Hermione moved to pull Harry from the fire place and Ginny once again put out the fire.
"Where's Lauren?" Draco said concerned.
"She stayed," said Ginny. Without a trace of emotion, she stood, twirling the rose in her and not looking at anyone.
"Ginny would have never left her!" panted Harry, glaring at—Tom.
Draco grabbed Ginny by the robe collar and furiously thrust her against the stone wall of the tower. Her head snapped back and hit the wall with a resounding crack and the rose fluttered to the floor. Ron moved for his wand, left handed, but Ginny was faster. Instantly, Draco was pushed back from Ginny with a crackle of magic and as he stumbled away from her, she reached a hand behind her head to touch blood. "What the hell happened?" yelled Draco.
"She chose to stay," said Ginny, her soft brown eyes gaining a measure of depth and daring him to argue with her. "What is it that Dumbledore says—It's the choices you make that make you the wizard you are? Yes, well far be it from us to make that choice for her."
"Voldemort," panted Harry. "Voldemort brought her father to the corridor. Voldemort and a bunch of Death Eaters—"
"No!" said Draco sinking to his knees. "Is Uncle Marshall dead?"
"Not yet," said Harry, his face contorted with grief.
"He said he wouldn't kill her father if she remained. That was the whole point of her staying," said Ginny.
"And you believed him?" asked Neville amazed.
"Yes, actually," said Ginny. "He prefers that she willingly join her aunts. A circle of three joined by blood and magic is a thing of power and beauty. He wouldn't—"
"Beauty!" choked Hermione.
Everyone just stared in silent horror. "You understand, don't you, Draco?" Ginny continued. "That's why you interrupted his placing the Dark Mark on Samara: the difference between consensual and nonconsensual magic—"
Draco nodded miserably and, closing his eyes, leaned his head against the wall. It looked like he was close to tears, and Samara moved to him putting her arms around him. It was impossible that they all were so close to escape and Lauren shouldn't make it back. Samara was the first to speak. "It's done, and nothing we can do can change it. Draco, how much Polyjuice did Vincent have?"
"Two hours," said Draco.
Samara nodded. "Then we'd better hurry. Vincent will soon be exposed." It seemed impossible that the Gryffindors had only been at the Snow Castle for a couple of hours. It seemed like years had passed and she had aged centuries.
"Then you'd better go," said Samara, holding him at arms length and looking at the clock on Trelawney's desk. "Anyway, Trelawney will be back with Pomfrey shortly. I'm sorry, Draco, about Lauren." Her voice sounded defeated.
"You could have stayed Potter," accused Draco.
"I tried," said Harry, throwing a furious look at Ginny as she reached down to collect the discarded forever-rose.
Draco touched his Portkey and was gone.
"Ginny?" said Samara, reaching out to touch the lavender rose in her hand. "Why did you take this from him?"
"It's not his," Ginny hissed vehemently, clutching the flower to her chest. "It's mine. My mother made it for me-my mother-not his."
>
Answers to Reviews:
Riddled-Slytherin
Glad you love Tom. He'll be around for a while longer, so keep reading.
Kittybro
Glad you enjoy
Alaxander
Glad you liked the title. Sometimes they are hard to think of.
Silverfox1
As usual you are thinking, but I didn't use the bond between Samara and Draco purposefully. They are certainly strong enough, but there is not much love between Draco and Ginny or Draco and Harry. The balance is important here and that is what I wanted to stress.
Virginia Riddle-Malfoy
Welcome. So excited to have you join us. I am enjoying all of your comments. Thanks for reviewing.
Mikhail Glad you are enjoying.
Sayuri
Yes, you never know, that wandless magic could come back to haunt him.
Trillium You said:
"And you would kill someone."
"You say that like it's a fault," said Tom.
I loved that. And when all the Weasly's shared the spell...
We have to keep in mind that Tom isn't a sweet little Hufflepuff.
Trillium
Is it your computer that got my computer hooked on drugs? Grrr. LOL
You wrote: ch 36, anonymous I'm so sorry. I know this review is long overdue...but my comp is on crack, my car is possessed and I've been very busy.
Little Red Rabbit
Missed your insights. Welcome back. sugerplumfairy
Cronenus
Glad to see you are back with us.
Elbereth Thanks for your reviews.
SinSamantha if Ginny stopped resisting Tom at least half of the story would be over. The chase is what makes it fun.
Jager
Thanks for being patient.
fire-sprite16
You wrote: So strange at the end about the walking dumbledore. I wonder who it is? Could it be Salazar under polyjuice? Ill have to wait an see! Update soon! You're joking right?
Lirael Love your penname. "Harry baiting" LOL