The Seers' Truth: Beyond the Darkness
By Lady Lestrange
Chapter 40
The Path of DestinyDisclaimer: 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. At last they escape the Snow Castle for the safety of Hogwarts, but is anywhere really safe?
Ginny reevaluates her relationship with Tom and Harry reevaluates Ginny.
For further discussion, visit: YAHOO GROUPS, TheSeersTruth (underscore between words if it deletes them) also, for more great stories, visit voldemortsreadinglist and add your own Slytherin fiction after you read and review…
The Seers' Truth: Beyond the Darkness
By Lady Lestrange
Chapter 40
The Path of Destiny"Crucio!"
Voldemort clutched his cold fingers around the spell and tried to restrain himself He was so angry, he knew he could easily end up killing the lot of them. Unfortunately, he needed them.
Death Eaters writhed one after the other on the cold snow expanse outside of the Snow Castle. Voldemort's robes whipped in the wind and blood streaked the icy whiteness as it congealed in vivid pools. Voldemort had no mercy for any of them--children or adults alike. He ignored their muttered apologies or answered them with yet another curse. "You have failed! Again!" he cried. "Stupid, useless lumps of flesh, you shouldn't even be called wizards. You have no right to the name of pureblood," he raged. "Crucio!"
His voice trembled with fury. "Harry Potter was here! Here! And you let him slip away, and not alone! He took half the fucking castle with him--both prophecy children! How in the bloody hell did he manage to get the Muggles out! Muggles!"
"Ginny told us we were playing Apparition Tag," shrieked one of the veelas as Voldemort tortured her. "She lied to us!"
"Virginia," breathed Voldemort. "Yes, she lied. When she returns to me with the emerald she will have a surprise--both she and her little friend. Isn't that right Tom?" he asked coldly.
The voice of his nemesis was strangely quiet.
"Crucio!" he spat again torturing the wizard at his feet. Voldemort sighed as he stopped the curse. "( Pick one, Nagini,)" he said. "(You can eat now, but I want you hungry for the attack.)"
"(Too cold,)" Nagini complained unwilling to leave her perch on her Master's shoulders.
"(Choose, and I will apparate you to the fire,)" said Voldemort gently. "(At least you can leave these morons.)"
"(Sissshauss?)" suggested Nagini.
"(I wish,)" said Voldemort lightly, as he looked around at the mess of bloodied and broken Death Eaters.
Nagini slithered forward to a small witch that was quivering and sobbing from her punishment, and began wrapping herself around the witch. Within a few minutes, the witch was still. Then both the snake and the witch disappeared in the mist of apparition.
"We'll get him, Master," said Lucius cautiously. "I promise you--Harry Potter--"
"Bah!" spat Voldemort, disgusted with the bunch of them. He flung a handful of Elemental flames into the crowd setting a large group of the Death Eaters on fire. Above the shrieking he said, "Carman, you and the Inner Circle, gather anyone who is burned. Severus see that they live. Give the rest to the vampires. Only let the vampires feed on two. The rest must be turned. Maybe they will be more obliging as undead than as living wizards."
"Yes, Master," said Carman bending to kiss his robes. She remained there, uncertain of what to do without his explicit direction. Voldemort clenched his teeth at the thought of the power of the curcio and memory charms that did this to her.
"Get up," he snapped. "We have no time to waste here. We must strike while the wizarding world is in chaos contemplating the old man's death." Carman remained stupidly where she was, still rather barmy from Neville Longbottom's Obliviate.
Narcissa moved to help her mother to her feet, and Voldemort did not stop her. Narcissa told him earlier that Carman remembered most of the common curses, but that didn't soothe his ire. She had lost her earlier memories--memories of him. Longbottom would pay.
"Eldon, you are in charge. See to Carman," Voldemort snapped at the elder Nott, who took Carman from Narcissa's care.
"I know you, don't I?" said Carman in confusion. "You are chaos child."
Nott said nothing without his Master's leave, and the red eyes were shining in anticipation and rage. "Longbottom will pay. I want him alive." The Dark Lord was fairly shaking with suppressed rage as he turned to Narcissa and Valeriana. They flanked Lauren Avery. Marshall Avery followed, throwing worried glances at his daughter and Voldemort in turn.
"You will learn what happens to those who defy me," Voldemort hissed at Lauren.
Lauren shrank silently away.
Valeriana gave Lauren a glare and twisted her arm. "Yes, Master," she hissed at the girl.
"Yes, Master," the girl parroted.
A small group of the Inner Circle gathered the Death Eaters and separated them, healing those who were burned and taking those who were not to the vampires. When one Death Eater realized where he was going, he launched himself onto one of the burning fires. His robes immediately went up in flames.
Eldon Nott levitated him out towards the vampires anyway, but Voldemort stopped him. "I will reward his initiative," said Voldemort. "There is too little of it in the ranks. What is your name?" Voldemort asked.
"Flint. Marcus Flint."
"You shall live," said Voldemort. "See that you do not disappoint me again."
"My life is yours, Master," the young man sobbed.
"Yes. It is." Said Voldemort, "But if you disappoint me again, your death will be mine."
Cringing the Death Eater backed away and fell on trembling legs. "Severus, take care of him," Voldemort demanded.
"Right away, Master," said Snape hurrying forward.
Voldemort noticed that Lauren threw a pleading glance to her professor before he began
petting Lauren's hair with his long cruel fingers and drawing her close to him. "Now," he said, "It is time for you to earn my mercy." He tipped her face up to his and whispered. "Legilimens!" His breath made little clouds in the cold air and the girl shivered. The thoughts of how to escape him filled her mind, but he dug deeper, seeking how Harry Potter had managed to elude him. She mewed in pain at his intrusion, but gave up no secrets. With a growl, he realized that he wouldn't find what he sought.
"You were obliviated," he snarled with disgust.
"Yes, Master," agreed Lauren still shivering.
"Who?" asked Voldemort with the fingers of his magic still deep in her brain.
"I don't know," the girl answered, her face crinkling in confusion. If the girl was stupid, he would have taken apart the memory charm right now, and be damned with whatever was left of her. However, she was an Avery and Valeriana and Narcissa wanted her intact. They had served him faithfully. They deserved to have her, and perhaps her addition would be a balm to Valeriana's dementor ravaged mind. He stayed his hand. There would be time later to sift slowly and carefully through her memories doing minimal permanent damage. He would find out who betrayed him although the finesse with which she was obliviated lead him to believe that it was indeed Virginia, but perhaps not Virginia alone.
Valeriana's and Carman's injuries angered him beyond belief. They were his witches. His! No one had the right to touch them but him. The dementers were a part of war, but the thought that Carman's memory of his younger self was gone, ate a hole in his gut that would only be filled with vengeance. The Gryffindors would pay: Harry Potter and Longbottom…and Virginia. Her betrayal stung the most. He had almost begun to trust her. He should have known that trust would bring him grief. The anger was boiling in him, dangerously close to the surface. He forced himself to contain the raging magic within him.
Control. He was no young amateur with barely controlled emotions, when he punished, when he killed, even if it was done swiftly, it was not done with rashness. He was no impulsive Gryffindor. Contrary to what many of his Death Eaters thought, he was not rash He weighed the options and contemplated the consequences and then made a decision. The fact that he usually did this with lightening quickness, caused many to believe that he acted hastily: especially when he killed his own. He did not. He craved power above all, and power did a delicate dance with control. He was not willing to sacrifice either even to satisfy his need for revenge. He had waited long for this day. A little more patience would not hurt his cause. When he re evaluated his plans, he realized, it was time to cut away the dead weight. The force that struck, had to be absolutely invulnerable: a team so in tune with each other that they could act as a single unit, united through the Mark. There could be no question of his orders once they reached Hogwarts. There was no room for error. Any who were not utterly loyal, he needed to cull. He had no pity for any because of their age or inexperience. He could surround himself with only the best, and he reminded himself, there were replacements for those he killed among those purebloods taken at the Ministry. It was amazing how quickly they recanted their Muggle loving ways, once they saw a few dead bodies.
Without further incident he grasped Lauren's arm ripping back her sleeve. The smell of burning flesh mingled with the acrid smell of blood as he placed the Dark Mark on her with brutal effieciency. "Blood and Magic mingled," he murmured. "Morsmordre!" as her screams pierced the air and the pain brought her to her knees. He dropped her on the snow, as she continued to convulse and shriek. Her father hurried to her aid.
Voldemort watched them for a moment with cold eyes and then drew Lauren, still shaking and disoriented to her feet. He pulled her roughly from her father's embrace. Shaking and crying and nearly incoherent with pain, she snarled at him. "I hate you!"
Voldemort turned in a move so fast that his hand was nearly a blur. "Sectum!" The spell sliced through Marshall's leg effectively crippling him, and he cried out clutching the bleeding appendage. "Accio!" said Voldemort and Marshall's wand shot to his outstretched hand. Lauren tried to pull out of Voldemort's grasp, but he held her fast. She was entirely too weak to oppose him in any way.
"No!" she screamed. "You promised me you wouldn't kill him!"
"You promised me compliance," he fumed. "It seems I need a hostage. Leave Avery in the snow." Voldemort kicked one of the moaning wizards out of his way as he started back to the castle. "Clean up this mess," he said waving vaguely at the bodies and gore.
"Yes, Master," said Nott.
Yes, Master," Carman parroted.
"No, please. I'll do anything," cried Lauren sinking to her knees as he dragged her forward.
"Lauren! No!" shouted her father.
Voldemort ignored them both.
"He'll die out here in the snow," Lauren cried, struggling to her feet and following by grabbing Voldemort's elbow. "You promised--"
"I promised I wouldn't kill him," said Voldemort shaking her off. "They say, freezing to death is a peaceful way to die, enfolding into the Elementals, wind and water-- Of course, I wouldn't know."
"Harry trusts me," pleaded Lauren immediately seeking an advantage. "He didn't want to leave the Snow Castle without me. I can help you. Please let me help you! Please--Master--let me serve you." She put her face in her hands sobbing hysterically and he stopped.
"That's better," he said tipping her chin up to draw a finger along the side of her face. "Was it Potter who obliviated you?"
She screwed up her face obviously trying to remember. "I don't know--Please--" she begged. "It might have been--I think it was Ginny though. I'm not sure."
Voldemort nodded thoughtfully. "Go back to Hogwarts," he told Lauren. "See to it that Ginny returns to me with the emerald."
"Yes, Master--then you will let my father come into the castle--Let his injuries be tended--"
"You are in no position to make demands."
"Please," she begged, still shaking with reaction to his placing the Mark.
"When the emerald is in my hands," he said with horrible gentleness and then he addressed Carman and Nott. "I cannot suffer these fools. Keep them away from me. I need to think."
He turned with a flurry of robes and walked back towards the castle, leaving Lauren and her father both in the snow. Lauren would have followed him to plead for her father, but Valeriana and Narcissa stopped her. "Hogwarts," said Narcissa firmly.
"But my father will die out here!"
"Wizards are sturdy folk," said Valeriana with a feral gleam in her eye, and a mad laugh. "I'll see to it that your father lives--at least for a while--but don't betray the Master. I would hate to lose you when we have just found you."
Sobbing too hard to concentrate, Lauren let Narcissa Apparate her to the clearing outside of Hogwarts' wards.
"Lucius," Voldemort asked. "How many of the purebloods that we captured from the Ministry are ready to take the Mark?"
"Twenty three with no reservations. Nearly another fifty, Master, with your promise to spare the mudbloods in their immediate families." Lucius paused. "Do you wish to reveal your plan to the Death Eaters before we reach Hogwarts? I'm afraid some may be dismayed by your announcements."
"They will not speak," said Voldemort with confidence. He looked out across the carnage. "Loyalty is fleeting, but fear holds many tongues, Lucius."
"Yes, My Lord."
"Attend me," Voldemort said abruptly striding towards the castle.
Lucius followed in his wake.
When Voldemort entered the castle, Nagini was lying glazed eyed by the fire. She was sated and asleep. Voldemort didn't bother her. Lucius followed and waited patiently for the Dark Lord to speak to him, but the Dark Lord seemed to have forgotten his very existence. Instead of speaking, he sat in his throne like chair and contemplated his mistakes. Where had the plan gone wrong? Certainly Dumbledore shouldn't have gotten away from the Ministry, but that was corrected. And how did Harry Potter get in? Dumbledore he thought. Somehow, he must have passed on some knowledge to the boy before he died. What was it?
He stood at the large window and surveyed the wall of ice and waste that surrounded the Snow Castle. A lone figure crouched in the frigid expanse: Marshall Avery. Splotches of blood and gore marred the landscape, but it was snowing again. The snow would reclaim its land and there would be no sign of the tortures perpetrated here today. Soon, the snow would cover all the blood with a blanket of innocence and all would be quiet for hundreds of kilometers beyond the boundaries of the mountains. It was inconceivable that any one could find this place. How had Dumbledore discerned its location? There was only one explanation, thought Voldemort as he idly fingered his wand. He still had a spy.
"There is still a spy in my ranks," Voldemort said to Lucius. "Possibly in the inner circle."
"Master," said Lucius. "I regret that--"
Voldemort held up a hand for silence. "The plans made here will be for your ears only," said the Dark Lord.
"Yes, Master. I am honored."
"Indeed you are," Voldemort agreed. After a precautionary search of Lucius' mind with his legilmency, they proceeded with planning their strategy. After they had finalized the plans for the upcoming events, Voldemort noticed Lucius reserved attitude. "You do not approve?" he asked lightly.
"Oh no, Master. Of course I approve, if my approval means anything--"
"Of course it does, Lucius," said the Dark Lord, taking a strand of Lucius white blonde hair between his fingers, and legilmizing the Death Eater, once again, searching for some hint of who the spy might be. "I have just revealed my entire plan to you."
"And it's brilliant as always," said Lucius. "I only wish that I could see all the Muggles die."
"So do I," said the Dark Lord, "But we all have to make sacrifices. The vampires will be more than efficient to neutralize those who have not fallen in the Muggle war."
"How goes the Muggle war?" asked Lucius.
"The first of the poisons were portkeyed to the various locations at the same time as we were liberating the Ministry." A look of satisfaction passed Voldemort's eyes. "The Muggles we have recruited hate each other with an almost magical intensity. It's amazing really. I think we can be certain that the populations of several countries will be decimated by this afternoon, and the vampires can enter the poisoned areas with impunity. They can finish off the stragglers. The potions are much safer than leaving things to chance as I did with Germany."
Lucius nodded. "No bombs this time."
"And no interference with the magic," agreed Voldemort. "The vampires in Azkaban with the other creatures have been long deprived of their potions, and the newly made vampires will be ravenous. We will follow up with the werewolves on the full moon."
"Yes, Milord," said Lucius. "Will you be needing additional funds for transportation?"
"No," said Voldemort. "We have the embezzled funds from the Muggle money accounts at Gringotts and of course the floo is ours. I'm confident of our success in the wizarding world, even if the Muggles don't turn out to be as compliant as I wished. After all, with Dumbledore dead, I expect the Potter boy will panic."
"I'm confident too," Lucius said, and silence descended.
"Will there be anything else, Master?"
The Dark Lord's eyes were drawn to the window and the huddled figure out there. "Have one of the house elves bring in Avery. I want him cleaned up and presentable within the hour. Tell him his daughter will pay for any misbehavior on his part, and send someone out to find a descent healer." Voldemort was wondering why the wards on his room didn't hold, and Avery was the only one smart enough to be able to make a guess. He might even be able to tell who, if anyone, was hit by the multiple curses the surrounded the ward to Voldemort's private chambers.
"Sir?" questioned Malfoy, but the look in Voldemort's eyes forestalled any argument. "Right away, Master," Lucius agreed, but Lucius thoughts were filled with trepidation as he searched for an excuse to give the chosen healer. How was he supposed to get a healer to come, when they tended to end up dead themselves? The thought was immediately squashed. His Master did what had to be done.
Ginny felt all the emotion of the years she had known Tom rise up in her as she heard Tom speak in her thoughts. "I could show you the spell—it's not that hard: lengthy, but not hard. You could do it."
"Do what?"
"Bind my memory to an object," he said softly.
She felt as if he had struck her. "I don't want you to go away," she cried. "I want you to want me!"
Tom's magic swirled around her, enveloping her, and for a moment, it felt like he was just holding her.
"I don't want you to ever go away," she cried. "I want--I want your consent to this bond. I'm tired of it being one sided."
"It never was one sided, Ginny, but I don't have a body. I'm just a memory. This can't end well for you. I should let you go."
"No! I want you to say the words--""Ginny…" she felt the intention of his magic, to leave for her or to stay for her, as she wished.
"I want your consent," Ginny persisted. "I want your full consent for this bond, to allow your magic to flow through me, as mine flows through you."
"So be it," said Tom and then he was silent. Perhaps he was speechless. After a long while, he said, "I'm glad you wanted me to stay."
I want you to stay, always," she repeated.
"Good night, Ginny Love." He waited for a few minutes and then said, "Do you want your body back?"
"No," laughed Ginny. "You can have breakfast first. I trust you."
"I know you do," he said. "It amazes me."
They lay for a long while, exhaustion wearing down their coherent thought and sleep slipping just out of reach.
Ginny tried to figure out just what was wrong now. She felt content. At last, they had defined exactly what their relationship was, but she knew Tom had something else on his mind: something he wasn't ready to share with her.
Tom was lying very still with both hands on his stomach just above his navel. The soft thin material that Madam Pomfrey had conjured as night clothes allowed the heat of her body to travel into her hands. Tom twisted them together and then willed them not to move.
Although Tom had existed in her body for the past four years, this was the first night he was in control of it since that far away time in the Chamber of Secrets, and then, he had had an agenda to fulfill. Now he did not.
"Tom?" she thought.
He shifted uncomfortably on the sheets, pulled up the blankets and placed his hands above his head. The soft swell of her breasts was partially visible above the blankets in the dim light. He did not look away. He clasped his hands together under his head, and took a deep slow breath, willing himself not to move, but Ginny could taste the acrid scent of his magic against her skin and Visha would not be still. His eyes watched the slow rise and fall of her breasts half hidden beneath the blanket.
"Tom?" she called again.
"Hmm?"
"Are you sure you want me to sleep?" she asked.
He took a slow ragged breath. "No."
There was a long pause and at last Ginny asked, "That ward you put up, it's sound proof and opaque, isn't it."
Tom snorted. "What do you think?"
"Of course it is," she said, thinking no one short of Voldemort himself would get through Tom's wards. " I was just checking. No Death Eaters at the door?"
"No," he breathed.
"No floo to get out of--" she asked.
"No."
"No brothers looking over our shoulders? No distractions?"
"No."
The silence echoed, the soft crackle of magic and Visha's soft hissing the only sound. "It's different now," she said, picking up on what he had said just before he took her over and apparated. "Different from what happened in the Chamber--"
"Yes?" He froze, holding utterly still in that posture of controlled expectation that he had.
"It is," she said. "You love me."
"Yes," he sighed, as if relieved that the truth was finally out, and he didn't have to say it.
"Good thing," she joked. "Since you aren't going anywhere."
He chuckled softly and she noticed that his hands had crept up to her breasts and were gently smoothing the wrinkles from the night clothes and making her shiver.
"Mmm," we're missing something," she said.
"My body?" he quipped.
"Well, that too," she said laughing as she enfolded him in her magic. "But I meant shared magic."
He took another slow deep breath. "I should give you back control of your body." He did not speak out loud, but directly to her mind, as if he didn't quite trust the control he had over the voice.
"Oh?" She was both surprised and pleased by his sudden admission. She hugged him to herself as if she would never let go, suffusing them both with her magic in a powerful rush, and Visha slithered against her hissing with delight, her iridescent scales shining in the muted light of the hospital wing.
He returned the rush of magic with one of his own, and whispered. "I want to touch you: to touch your skin."
She pulled herself away momentarily. "You are in my mind, controlling my every motion, sharing magic, and you are asking permission to touch my skin?"
"Well it is your body," Tom explained.
"I thought it was ours," she said.
She felt him smirk at her. "Right," he said. "Ours."
"So what was Dumbledore's latest gambit?" Harry wondered as he lay in the hospital bed his thinking alternating, between wishing he had a dreamless sleep potion and being glad that he wasn't forced to sleep just yet. He had too much to think about--too much to do. None of it was pleasant.
Shesha stirred restlessly at his wrist, and he turned feeling rather than seeing the haze of magic surrounding Draco and Samara. A similar haze was forming around Ginny. He had never been able to sense that before and yet bit by bit this new power was coming to him: the ability to sense magic around him. He stared for a moment at the other three beds, the ones that were occupied before they came in. He sensed something similar from all of them. Light, he decided, at least two of them were light wizards--no Dark Mark-- the third seemed--Harry shivered. He could sense nothing from the third bed and he wondered if the occupant had died. He closed his eyes and decided not to think about it. Surely Madam Pomfrey would know if one of her patients had died even if she was hassled and overworked. He was glad that Light wizards occupied the other two beds, but he found that he wasn't as intolerant as he once was. When he had first noticed that he had the power to pick out the Death Eaters with his eyes closed, he would have been appalled to sleep in the same room with a Death Eater, but he realized now that it wasn't as simple as finding a magical tattoo. A fine prickling along his skin, a sense of unease told him who bore the Dark Mark, but now he was sensing something quite different from Samara and Draco--it came to him suddenly why the magic felt familiar. It felt strangely like flying. He examined this variation, closing his eyes and thinking, Air Elemental. Samara had said he used it while flying. Sweet Merlin, he could use a good long flight right now. Even though he was exhausted, he didn't feel like sleeping. He tossed and turned a while trying to get comfortable. He had been in this room enough that it almost felt like his own room, and yet it was the first time since he had gone to get the girls out, that he had time to think. They had almost botched it. They had taken too long. Snape had said ten minutes, and he was right, and yet, Snape--Harry halted that line of thinking. He wouldn't think about Snape. If he thought about Snape, he thought about Dumbledore. He couldn't.
He had rescued the girls. The mission was a success. He had succeeded in rescuing the girls, and yet he felt guilty because he had left Lauren behind. Several weeks ago he would have said it didn't matter. She was only a Slytherin. She probably belonged there. Now, he no longer felt that way. He felt like he lost her; just like he lost Cedric.
Harry had just started to doze when his scar exploded in pain. He awoke screaming, came awake in a world blurred with pain, his throat constricting. He sucked in his breath and gritted his teeth, trying not to scream. He wasn't in his own bed, he was in the hospital wing with so many others who were hurt or even dying: he couldn't let them hear him screaming. His scar burned with wave after wave of fire each hotter than the last attack, dripping an acid slime into the secret places in his brain and within his head he could feel the crawling disgusting slime of the Dark Lord's thoughts burning within his brain. "Occlude. Occlude," he told himself, but the Dark Lord's amusement told him it was already too late, and a low moan escaped his gritted teeth. With effort he set a silencing spell on himself.
"Yes," whispered Voldemort "You know I can make you scream."
Usually he knew who Voldemort was torturing, but not this time. It felt as if it was crucio, directed straight at him. For a few minutes he fought it, and finally he gave into the pain. As Voldemort's burning hate bored into him, his teeth unclenched and he couldn't help himself.
The whimpers again became silent screams as Voldemort hissed into his brain, "I don't appreciate the pain you have caused those in my ranks. Take care of my girls, Harry. I will be wanting them back, you know, and you too. So soon. Very soon now. I will call you and you will come. You will Apparate to me.
"I won't."
The pain drilled into his brain with hot ferocity. "Oh, I think you will."
The sharp acid of his words dripped and twisted inside of him, vivid even in his half dreaming state, and he felt very hot: feverish. He kicked at the blankets in his sleep trying to rid himself of them. It was so hot, so unbearably hot, he felt as if his head was filled with hot oil. He took several quick gasps of air through the pain, struggling not to cry out again He gritted his teeth as the heat and pain increased.
So Voldemort has discovered his Prophecy children are gone, Harry thought, and he has discovered who took them. So the Dark Lord knows. I knew it would come to this.
It's over, thought Harry. Professor Dumbledore is dead and if Voldemort can reduce me to this without even being in the same room with me, how can I possibly defeat him?
"You can't," Voldemort agreed. "All you can do is join me."
"Never," snarled Harry. "I'll never join you."
"Oh you will," Voldemort chuckled. "not as you expect, but you will."
Harry felt Voldemort tighten the grip on his mind. The rolling constrictors reminding him dimly of a snake crushing it's prey, the inexorable pressure of the earth plates grinding together and crushing him while the molten magma poured into his brain. If he could have drawn a full breath into his lungs, he would have screamed.
The silencing spell would keep the others from knowing, he thought. No one would know what was happening to him, but he needed them to know. He needed to wake up: to pull himself out of Voldemort's clutches, but the laughter and the pain just went on and on.
When Harry finally came back to himself Ginny was on one side of his bed and Samara on the other. The pain had dulled to a manageable level. Someone's cool damp hand was laid across his forehead, and he heard muffled voices in the dark. His chest ached as if he had been actually crushed by the snake's coils and his bed was wet, not just sweaty wet, but really wet. For one awful embarrassing moment he thought he had pissed himself. It was certainly possible given the intensity of the Dark Lord's tortures, but he reminded himself the Dark Lord was not here, unless you counted Ginny. Harry groaned as he realized he heard Ginny's voice through the roar of flames in his head. She was impossibly close to him.
"Yes, I'm sure it's Salazar," muttered Ginny. "Do you really think I don't know what his bloody magic feels like?" Harry tried to jerk away from her touch, as a definite sense of someone elses' mind near his caused him to panic, but the flames seemed to be subsiding and a healing spell seemed to be interfering with his movement.
"Draco, I thought you were helping," snarled Ginny. "We need some drying charms here. We're practically drowning in Water Elemental."
"But surely Harry could occlude some of it," said Draco, as he dried the Water Elemental that was cooling Harry's forehead and cascading into the bed itself.
"Like you can occlude the Dark Mark," snapped Samara.
"But he doesn't--" began Draco, but Harry didn't hear him. He felt magic surrounding him, soothing and calming him. He was floating on a warm calming sea. It was still too hot, but it was definitely better. The whole feeling frightened him a little bit. He felt like he was on the edge of a precipice, the edge of a discovery, the edge of a vast ocean, beckoning him and his mother was there, smiling at him, but then she sank beneath the waves and was gone.
Dumbledore had told him his mother's love saved him, but in some ways Harry knew that all the pieces didn't fit. If love was the opposite of hate, then the shielding should have been for the hate spell, crucio, but obviously crucio wasn't shielded. What could possibly block Avada? Some said nothing because nothing could block death, and yet something--something in him or in Meridius or in his mother or in the Elementals themselves had certainly stopped death, and did more than that. It turned death around and shot it back at the caster--first at Voldemort and then at Laurel Avery. Strong as a mother's love might be, it wasn't the equal of Death. What was the opposite of death? Life? What did that mean? Was it just death, or could he in some way manipulate the spell itself. That was unheard of. Someone couldn't control another's spell! Harry remembered what Hermione had said so long ago when they were talking about the Sorting Hat spells, no one could manipulate another's spell unless it was purposefully left open for that person, and Harry was quite sure that Voldemort was not leaving his Avada open in the hopes that Harry would step in and finish it on himself!
Harry opened his eyes to see Ginny sitting on the edge of his bed, the palm of one cool hand pressed against his burning forehead, the other twisted in his sheets and gripping them tightly. Her face was screwed up in concentration so pale that every freckle stood out in the muted lights of the hospital wing. Her eyes were closed. Behind her, with a hand on her shoulder, and another on Harry's cheek, was Samara. Samara's hair hung in tangled curls. She used no wand, but he felt the awesome expanse of her healing power and leaned into it, drinking deeply and letting her soothe the ravages of Voldemort's attack. Draco stood with them, his embrace, was holding Samara upright, gripping her waist, his cheek against her neck. The basilisks were all around them; silent as death.
"Say something, mate," pleaded Fred as he turned his bandaged head towards the wall beyond Harry's shoulder.
"Is he alright?" asked George with the same urgency.
Samara blinked at Harry. "He's awake," she said, as Harry raised his hand to cover Ginny's on his forehead. He clasped it and took it from his face, but he didn't want to pull away from Samara's healing and some of the longing must have shown in his eyes, because Draco hissed at him, "Hey Potter, she's my girlfriend!"
Ginny's hand still in his own, he felt the assessing quality of Ginny's touch and she looked at him with calculating eyes. Harry yanked back as he realized this was NOT Ginny.
"How did you learn to do that?" asked Harry in wonder, staring at the group of them.
"It's a shared spell, idiot," snapped Draco annoyed, but Harry sensed it was something more. He positively felt Draco closing off from him.
"Malfoy? Draco?" whispered Harry.
"What is it, Potter?" Draco snapped back.
Harry stared at Draco, thinking that all they had been through together, should have allowed him to call the Slytherin Draco, but now that they were back at Hogwarts, he was once again Malfoy, and Harry couldn't figure out exactly what the Slytherin was doing to help, but he was quite certain he was trying to help. At least he was until a few minutes ago, then all the Slytherin walls came crashing back around him.
"Was it all an act?" Harry asked.
"We had a deal," sneered Draco, "I fulfilled my part; you have yet to fulfill yours."
We got Madam Pomfrey," Ron announced breathlessly, and a moment later Madam Pomfrey bustled up to his bed, and Harry noticed Ron, tousled and worried, with Hermione behind them, pocketing her wand, as she leaned between Draco and Ron to see how Harry was feeling.
"Get away from me, Mudblood," sneered Draco, and Hermione jumped back as if burned and Ron pulled his wand. Madam Pomfrey hushed them, threatening to put them all to sleep with a somnus spell, and Ron put away his wand.. While they were occupied, Samara flipped the blankets over the contingent of basilisks on his bed and Harry wondered if someone had done a memory charm on the medi-witch or she hadn't had time to deal with the basilisks yet due to the fact that she has so many patients, at least one of whom was in obvious distress.
She tut tutted, and shooed the others back to bed now noting the late--or early hour--stating that they should probably all have a dreamless sleep potion, "except you Ginny." The Medi-witch's eyes flashed in anger or exasperation. "You'd better have somnus--at least four hours," she said shortly and she promptly pronounced the spell. To Harry's surprise, Ginny didn't attempt to argue or block. She simply crumpled under the spell. Madam Pomfrey caught her with a levitation charm and placed her back in her bed. She passed out the dreamless sleep and waited for all to drink, so Harry was unable to ask Ginny what exactly she and Samara had done to stop the pain in his scar. The possibilities were not something he wanted to dwell on anyway. It bothered him somewhat that Ginny had succumbed so easily to Madam Pomfrey's somnus. Even less pleasant was the way Voldemort had reached out directly to him as if he wore a Dark Mark, but he was Marked, he sighed. "marked as his equal… but he wasn't his equal. Voldemort was so much more powerful than he was. It was ridiculous.
The prophecy rolled unbidden through his consciousness.
As his equal the Dark Lord will mark
A child whose power he knows not
Another child invited into the dark
And a child who was not sought
Either must die at the hand of the other
Neither can live while the other survives.
Protected once by the love of his mother
Blood of a mother forever saves lives.
At the height of the Dark Lord's Power
A Babe will lay him low.
Yet he will arise through his flower
Essences of friend, father and foe.
For within have snake and phoenix warred
But Phoenix must surely rule
For this bird rises again and again
And Eating Death is the fuel.
Will he Riddle the past with pain
Or Riddle the future with glory?
Six lives or deaths hang in time by three
Brave children who'll mend the story.
The foe unnamed falls to magic unknown
Magic born as the seventh month dies.
By magic and blood the rift is sown
Devoid of all time. Devoid of all lies
Of course, if part of a prophecy is true, it follows that it all must be true. There was no way around it. Kill or be killed.
Madam Pomfrey did not give Harry a potion. Instead she sat at the bedside chair. "I see your physical injuries are coming along nicely, Mr. Potter," she said. "Are you…alright?"
Harry nodded obligingly and stifled a sob.
"Mr. Potter, let me rephrase that," she said. "You have been in this infirmary enough times for me to know when you are not alright." Her voice softened, the hub of the hospital going on without her. For the moment she was listening to him alone. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"
"Pr--Professor Dumbledore is dead," Harry blurted.
She waited a moment before speaking. "We thought…we all thought he was dead when he vanquished Grindlewald. Magically, the taking of a life force as strong as a Dark Wizard, usually takes a great deal of power. I'm sure Albus Dumbledore would not die, until he was darned good and ready to do so."
Harry smiled thinly at her. He didn't want to disillusion her, but he saw Dumbledore's dead body and told her so.
For a moment she looked very old, almost as old a Dumbledore himself. He didn't know how long she had been a mediwitch at Hogwarts but if she was present at the fall of Grindlewald, she was certainly not as young as he had originally thought her to be. "I didn't ask about Albus Dumbledore. I asked about you," she said gently.
Harry hung his head and stared at the white sheets twined around his hands. "Everyone expects me to do it," he said. "There's a prophecy…" he stopped uncertain if he should continue, but Madam Pomfrey nodded her head.
"I know of it," she said.
"He explained the prophecy anyway, pouring his heart out to the mediwitch who had so many times healed his body, and nearly as many times his soul."
"I can't wave my wand for this one, Harry," she said.
"I know." Harry's shoulders slumped. "So many people have died," he said, "and so many more will die until I kill him…but…" Harry shook his head.
"You're not alone," said Madam Pomfrey.
"But don't you see? That's the whole problem. I'm not alone. If I could count on Voldemort keeping his word, I would have called him out to duel long ago, but I can't and as long as I can't, people will die."
"People do die," said Madam Pomfrey.
"But …
Harry opened his mouth to answer, but Madam Pomfrey stopped him. "I have been a healer for over half a century. I have lived through two wars, Grindlewald, and the first rise of Voldemort, Tom Riddle..."
Harry looked up at her when she said Voldemort, and Tom Riddle. He noticed that her soft brown eyes were misted. She didn't seem to be talking to him at all, but staring off into the reaches of the infirmary, seeing other patients, another time.
"I know what war is like. I know how it feels to lose family…friends.. those near and dear to our hearts, and when it is all said and done, another Dark Lord will rise.
"Then what's the point?" asked Harry.
After a moment's contemplation, Madam Pomfrey answered, "That's what separates us from the Muggles," she said. "We do not only have the means to destroy. We also have the means to create…dark or light…there is always hope at the bottom of Pandora's Box.
"And healing," said Harry. "We also have the means to heal."
"And heal," she agreed. "Don't let the future trouble you so," she said. "What will happen will happen. When the time comes, you will make the right choice."
"Don't you believe in the prophecy?"
"I believe the future is unwritten.´ She paused for a moment. "Do you want a sleeping draught?" she asked. "Or somnus?"
"No," he said, "I need to think."
The mediwitch nodded and started to go, but Harry called her back. "Madam Pomfrey? Everyone thinks I…well you know…with Voldemort and all and I am good at defense…" He blushed thinking that he was being rather bold, and yet it wasn't false pride. He was good at defense. "Everyone thinks I will be an auror, if I survive, but if I survive. I don't want to be an auror. I've seen enough killing to last me forever. I want to be a healer…sort of balance things out."
She smiled at him. "I never thought you would be an auror, Harry," she said. "You aura is all wrong for such work."
"Aura," said Harry. "You see auras?"
"Most healers do to some extent," she commented. "See in the visual sense or sense with their magic. How else could they figure out what to do with an unconscious or even recalcitrant patient?"
"Madam Pomfrey," Harry said. "Dumbledore wanted me to …but I don't think I can kill him," he whispered.
"Then don't," Madam Pomfrey replied.
Answers to Reviews:
The only pay I get is your reviews. Don't be so tight fisted with them. They don't cost you anything. Geeze. You'd think you were writing them with a blood quill. Just a few words are such encouragement to authors. I know: whine, whine, whine. It's just, I'm nearly finished with this story and although I planned a third part, if you are bored, I could write more on a Dark Ginny that I've been fooling with instead. Or maybe go for the Sarek/Amanda fic I have started, (Star Trek) and change gears altogether. Your reviews (or lack thereof) would help me decide. --Lady Lestrange
Alexander : You thought the conversation between Ginny and Tom was funny? And I thought I was messed up! Do you mean Ginny and Harry with Tom's comments?
Trillium: Well, now you know what Ginny's answer was to Tom's last sentence.
Anonymous: Wells, someone has to push drugs, even to computers.
Sayuri-Kikio: No Tom is too entrenched in the story to disappear so easily, and he is convenient, isn't he. He's even better than Hermione, the walking encyclopedia. Glad we got all the kinks out of the potion now. "You know, Herentas Meridiae is right, your story is addicting." Best compliment I could have. Thanks.
Mikhail Would I make poor Tom go away? Ha!
Riddled-Slytherin: Oh come now, we never go backwards. Tom isn't going back into a object, but I made you worried, didn't I? LOL
cronenus
I have 3 questions. Here are your answers.
1. are you doing to tell us how she got to the snow castle?
She portkeyed there with the portkey that Pritch made for her back in the Seers Truth: The Broken Beginnin.
2. can't old voldy just sumin ginny and samara back to the castle? Hmmm. There is that problem. Harry better kill him fast then, don't you think? Of course Volde wants the emerald so he might give them some leeway, but it is on his terms. Not exactly peachy for Harry.
3. will tom realy teach her how to put him in some thing or try to trick her in to putting her self in to something, but then again will she even try it in the first place? I'm sure Tom could teach her, but Ginny is in love. Can't you tell?
lola "Cute!" You think my story is CUTE? I have failed. Catch me. I'm throwing myself from the Astronomy tower. I hope you go back and read A Broken Beginning
fire-sprite16: Oh yeah, she will keep Tom around, and do you really want Tom to be just a friend?
Adaneth No Ginny doesn't want to face her family. It gave Tom a little taste of what he missed as an orphan. As far as Samara being too blunt--she probably was too blunt, but remember that is what Samara is like. She has been very subdued at the Snow Castle and rather stuck in Hufflepuff mode to stay alive with Voldemort. Remember her meeting Harry on the train? Pushing back his hair to look at his scar. Saying yes, you are Harry Potter? She IS blunt. Plus, she was tired, and the basilisks did need to eat.
kittybro
Hope you get to read this and are not off on spring break. Maybe spring break is over now. Hey, I can't help it your fellow readers don't review very fast. 260 reads for 15 reviews. Go figure. I'd really appreciate some of you sending the story off to some friends.
Jager
Glad you like
Silverfox1 No opossums in Europe! No kidding! Learn something every day. More about the wounded aurors and the effects of the battle of the ministry soon.
Lirael
You said, "Come on! You're not really going to get Tom out of Ginny's head, are you? That's one of the main plots of the story. Having him reduced to a diary entry would blow." It would wouldn't it? But his offer, really made Ginny take a look at what happened in their past as well as where their "relationship" is going. Decision time for both of them, and none too soon, because this story is drawing to a close. Read Keys of the Kingdom. It's better than Shade's Children. Not as good as Abhorsen. Have you read the Golden Compass books or Terry Brooks, "Demon series"? All good choices.
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