The Seers' Truth: Beyond the Darkness
By Lady Lestrange
Chapter 44
A Healer's Choice
(A/N: After reading HBP, I had to keep reminding myself this is MY Snape, not JK's--although I loved chapter 2 of HBP. If you have forgotten what MY Snape has done, please glance through the summary below. Otherwise you may find yourself confused. There are enough similarities to be mind boggling, and believe it or not, there are MORE similarities with HBP in the next few chapters of ST:BTD. Good thing I'm not publishing this for money. I'd get sued.
Anyway, I know I've been forever getting this chapter ready for you, although in my own defense, I only just got the 15 reviews. Have you guys given up on me? I had this story finished, but after HBP it read like a Slytherin rewrite of JK's and I didn't think you wanted to read that. So, I had to do major changes. They are done now, and updates should be more regular. All answers to reviews will now be through ff's new option. If you have questions I haven't answered due to ff's ban of answering reviews, please ask again now that I can answer.--LL)
Disclaimer: That said, the real Severus Snape and all 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 JK. --Lady Lestrange
Special thanks to my beta, ennui deMorte, 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. Go to my author profile and click on homepage and it will take you to the Yahoo! group. ennui deMorte 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.
(A/N: Thanks for your patience and I apologize for the delay, but you still haven's given my 15 reviews. I'll chalk it up to HBP stunned brains.)
(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. 5 turns should do it!)
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. The reporters make it difficult for Harry and company to get through the Great Hall. The group contemplates what to tell the reporters, and it culminates with an encounter with Snape where Harry learns things he'd rather not know. Which brings us to the real question, Who's side is Snape on? Really? That's my Snape, not JK's Snape. Comparisons on Snape at The Yahoo group are welcomed, just be sure to mark a spoiler section at the top of the post.
We learn a little more about Snape's relationship with the Mauraders and Lily Evans-Potter in the last chapter and Although Harry has just returned from the Snow Castle, he realizes that the time to face Voldemort is coming soon. He doesn't do well with advance planning. After all, he is a Gryffindor.
The group has just returned from the Snow Castle, and they left Lauren to Voldemort's tender mercies. We saw her get her Dark Mark.
It is morning, and Eloise Midgin has just awakened Ginny/Tom and told her that a Slytherin is waiting to speak with her. Eloise, of course had no idea that currently Tom is in control of Ginny's body, but he did promise to give it back after breakfast. Will he keep his promise?)
For further discussion, visit: YAHOO GROUPS, TheSeersTruth (underscore between words if it deletes them) also, for more great stories, visit voldemortsreadinglist and Please Please Please add your own Slytherin fiction after you read and review.
Your review is my only payment. Please be generous. This was a long arduous chapter especially after reading HBP. Your reviews are appreciated.
And now, on to the chapter…
Chapter 44
A Healer's ChoiceTom found himself looking through Ginny's eyes at a very angry, very sick, Lauren Avery. Dark Magic was pouring off of her from her newly made Dark Mark, and it was obvious she hadn't slept. He was violently reminded of Carman and had to restrain himself from touching her silver blonde hair. "You look like shit," he said callously. "Why aren't you in bed?"
Lauren didn't answer. She just glared at Ginny.
"Snake got your tongue," Tom smirked? "Oh- excuse me, tongue, tits and magic bits--"
"Tom," Ginny hissed in his head. "Stop being a git"
Lauren's wand was out in a moment, her blue-gray eyes cold as ice. "I'll curse you to hell and back, Gryff. You might have been ok for a Gryff, but my father--." She stopped, as Visha hissed menacingly before Tom quieted her with a sharp order in parseltongue. Glancing back into the Gryffindor Common room, Tom saw several students milling around hoping to catch a stray phrase of gossip. Several had their hands on their wands. Lauren grasped Ginny's hand and pulled her out into the corridor which started Visha's complaints again.
"Where are we going?" asked Tom, following without protest.
"My room," snapped Lauren.
"Sounds good," mused Tom, still thinking how much Lauren looked like her grandmother.
"(Stop complaining,)" Tom told Visha at last in parseltongue. "(She has nice magic.)"A wash of sparkling pain jolted through him as he heard Ginny's outraged protests. "Give me back my body. You're disgusting!"
Tom chuckled lightly, and Lauren yanked him into the Slytherin Common Room and down the stairs. "This is no laughing matter," Lauren hissed. "You have to give Him what He wants. You have to find that emerald and give it to Him. He'll just take it anyway--."
"I don't think so," Tom said, stroking an agitated Visha..
"My father will die!"
"Oh Tom!" cried Ginny. "We have to help her…" Tom felt the rush of the Imperio that Salazar had placed on Ginny, and closed his mind to it, supremely glad that the Imperio had not been placed on him."Marshall has his own resources," said Tom coolly not quite sure if he was speaking to Lauren or Ginny.
"Ginny!" cried Lauren.
"Someone's coming," said Tom calmly, recognizing the flood of heightened emotions that came from some arguing pair. In a moment, he realized it was Ethan and Edward. Lauren pulled him into a room that was plastered with posters of current male musical stars. He recognized none of them, but one winked at Lauren and Ginny as Lauren pushed Tom against the wall and continued to rant at him. Tom could smell her perfume, feel her fingernails digging into the flesh of his upper arms beneath Ginny's robes as Lauren shook her. Wafts of Dark Magic fell in waves about her. She looked so like Carman that Tom had to resist the urge to reverse their positions and kiss her--share magic with her. That wouldn't go over well with Ginny, or Alvin or even Lauren he was sure, so he just smirked in her face and continued to breath in long slow breaths tainted by a delicious musky perfume and focused over her shoulder on the plush snake that was curled up on her bed. He studied the line of potions bottles on the vanity and stacks of books arranged according to height on the desk. It occurred to him that he had never been in a dorm room that was quite so neat. Abruptly, Lauren pushed away from him and accioed the trash can. She turned retching miserably into the can, as waves of Dark Magic rolled around her.
Ginny's frantic voice finally came through his muddled brain. "What were you doing? You almost kissed her! She's a girl! You are in a girls' body! Lauren would freak! I would freak!"
"I wasn't going to kiss her," Tom protested.
"(Share magic,)" Visha added.
"(You aren't helping,)" Tom told the basilisk.
"You were--" Ginny said
"Jealous, Love?"
Sparkles of pain ripped through him causing him to suck in his breath.
"That hurt!" he spat.
"Not as much as I wish it did," Ginny growled. "Now tell her that you will find the emerald, and let's look--"
"I will do no such thing," Tom said primly. "You don't want to do that, Ginny Love. That's Salazar's imperio talking. Anyway, you can't find it. Samara has to give it to you, remember?"
"Help her get cleaned up then," suggested Ginny "and let's get out of here."
"Now that is a sensible idea," said Tom, as he cast a cleaning charm on Lauren's soiled robes."
"Do you think you can make it to breakfast?" asked Tom. "You really should eat something, at least toast and tea…"
"The emerald," she said as she nodded miserably. "You will help me won't you?" She sniffed at her cleaned robes, and wrinkled her nose. .
"I don't think He will kill your father," Tom countered. "Marshall is too important to His plans. Considering the combined brainpower of his Death Eaters, or the lack thereof, he can't afford to lose any of his Ravenclaws.."
"But--" Lauren began as she started to unbutton her robes with one flick of her wand and banished her outer garments to a hamper in the corner. Tom saw only a flash of pink lace covering her, before he gasped.
"What are you doing?" snapped Tom alarmed as he spun away from her to look into the lecherous eyes of the male singing star poster.
"Changing these robes," said Lauren doing another cleaning charm on the trash can. "No offense to your cleaning charm, Virginia, but you are better at wards. They look clean but they still smell sour."
Tom sputtered and edged towards the door. "I'll wait to walk back with you--"
"Stand still," ordered Ginny, and amazingly, Tom stopped. "You are in a girl's body. Leaving because she is changing clothes will tell her instantly that you are Tom. You might want to tell her that her posters are drooling though," Ginny giggled.
Tom repeated Ginny's comment about the posters and Lauren laughed. "I know," she said "Isn't it funny? Poor blokes. I'll just be a second--" She brushed by Tom clad only in undergarments and disappeared into the bathroom. Tom breathed a sigh of relief as the door clicked and Ginny laughed.
Visha cataloged Tom's reaction to Lauren in terms of his body heat and sweat, which Ginny found somewhat amusing, and somewhat disquieting, but when Visha asked when they were going to share magic with Lauren, both Tom and Ginny told her to shut up, in no uncertain terms and she pulled herself under Ginny's collar to sulk.
A moment later, Ginny asked. "Do you hear that?"
Tom listened and could hear quite clearly the voices of Ethan and Edward, arguing. Appparently, Lauren had put a listening charm on her wall for the nearby rooms. Ginny couldn't imagine the dungeon walls being thin enough to hear through. Ginny and Tom listened unabashedly.
"She wasn't the first one killed," said Edward.
"Who are they talking about?" wondered Ginny.
"Don't know," thought Tom.
"Shut up,"Ethan hissed at his brother. "He only kills witches and wizards when he has to--"
"Don't be ridiculous. Shaul and his father were killed for lying!"
"Lying badly," Ethan corrected. "There's a difference."
"Really? I don't see it. They weren't muggles or mudbloods. They were purebloods! Purebloods! Last week we were pissed because Draco was moved up in the Circle and this week, Draco's on his shit list, next in line for dungeon torture. Don't you see we could be next?"
"No, I don't see that."
"She was a pureblood, just like us--our blood," Edward said. "Our cousin--it's wrong."
"Edward--Her father was a Mudblood!"
"No!" he shouted. "She was not killed because her father was Muggleborn. Tonks was killed because she was too powerful, and Aislinn because she had no power at all."
There was a bump and a crash as if Ethan had thrown something or launched himself at his twin.
"Gryffindor's changed you. All this hyped up morality! Five months ago, you never would have mentioned her name. Never! She doesn't exist!"
"Five months ago I wasn't worried about dying."
"He won't hurt us. Mother is too favored--"
"And Malfoy's not?" Edward interrupted with a coarse laugh.. "No one's safe," Edward whispered. "Even I can see Draco's days are numbered. He kills when he feels like it, on a whim. We're just shadows--not people--not wizards. The way I see it we're walking a tight line, brother--a line that can change at any time."
"The power of the Dark Lord is monumental. If we just serve Him."
Edward snorted. "You are delusional. Wormtail served him. Wormtail brought him back from the dead--Wormtail gave him his fucking hand!" Edward's voice rose to a shriek.
"Edward, you know that Wormtail never was more than a pawn. Never."
"He was a wizard! A wizard who served Him, and he's dead!""
"Sometimes things have to be done to take the power--"
"Power! What power? We get to kiss his damn bloody robes? You call that power? We get to crawl around like house elves until he crucios us. I see punishment. I see death, but I don't see any power rolling our way. He keeps it all for Himself."
"Shut up!" Ethan hissed, the words running together in his haste to get them said. "You are going to get us killed. What would you do? Betray Him? Run? Where would you go with this on your arm? Have you forgotten Karkarof? And remember, one twin is worthless in His eyes. If you betray him, you betray me. Would you betray me, brother?"
Another crash and a scuffle sounded and then, Edward's voice, "No. Never."
"She's dead. You can't help her now. We'll go to the Memorial, pay our respects and it's over…it's over…"
Soft indistinct murmurings continued to come through the wall.
Ginny stood for several more minutes listening at the wall but heard no further arguing, and then she walked to the opposite wall. She could hear Millicent Bulstrode discussing her potions homework with someone. Ginny didn't recognize the other girls' voice.
"Anything interesting?" Lauren asked as she emerged from the bathroom.
"No," Tom answered. "What have you done to the walls?"
Lauren smirked. "Have to keep track of the Death Eaters that live next door. Of course, not now that I am one--" Her face suddenly crumpled. She broke down and started to cry.
Tom had no idea what to do with her.
"Give her a hug," suggested Ginny.
"You're kidding, right?" Tom asked of Ginny. Visions of Lauren's pink underwear danced through his head.
"Not that kind of hug," said Ginny. "She just needs someone to support her--understand her--"
"(Share magic?)" Visha suggested, but Tom hushed her..
"She's a Slytherin, not a Gryffindor," countered Tom. "Slytherins don't need hugs--or--or understanding."
The moment passed before Tom acted upon it. "I really don't want anything to eat," said Lauren, holding her stomach as she sank down on the bed and wiped her eyes.. "I just want to sleep."
"Do you want me to bring some tea down to you," volunteered Tom at Ginny's prompting. "You will want something in your stomach later--It makes retching the foreign magic easier."
"Thanks, but you aren't a Slytherin, Ginny," Lauren said. "You can't get into the common room alone much less here."
"Yeah. Right," said Tom.
There was a moment of strained silence before Lauren stood up. "Well let's go to breakfast then. I don't know how I am going to get through this day. I am so tired."
"You can do it," said Ginny.
"And I'm so worried about my father."
"I know," said Ginny biting her lip. "I wish I could help."
"Are you saying you can't," said Lauren coldly. "Because I don't believe you."
oo oo ooo
As Voldemort watched the two goblins approach, he wished he had the luxury to legilmize them, however, goblins were notoriously hard to crack. The older of the two carried himself with arrogant swagger, and flashed his sharp teeth. Voldemort imagined the older goblin's image had frightened some wizards. Voldemort was not impressed. He had learned of the older goblin's inflexible attitude from his spies. It was the younger goblin who interested Voldemort. The young of any species were so precious. .. so malleable…so trusting. He needed these goblins to get the upper hand again, now that Harry Potter had escaped him. Not for long, he promised himself. Not for long…
Voldemort pulled his snake face into a parody of a smile as he watched the younger goblin walk obediently at the older goblin's heels. Such obedience was worthy, although misplaced. However, neither of the miserable little creatures debased themselves before their betters, but only lowered their heads momentarily, and then the older one's beady little eyes met red ones without fear. Indeed, he seemed almost feral. Treachery. Voldemort could smell it on the creatures. He would have killed both of them on the spot, but there was some use for them yet, at least for the younger one, Quork. He so loved younglings.
"Well, Goblin," he said conversationally, eyeing the one in charge. "What news could not be entrusted to my underlings?"
"The payment to your mercenary giants is posted, but there is a discrepancy."
"Really?" said Voldemort with a slight smirk.
"Yes," continued the goblin without uttering so much as a Sir, "Since, embezzlement is not possible within Gringott's walls." The first goblin's voice was a shrill squeak reminding Voldmort at once of a house elf although his news was infinitely more complex than the news any house elf could bring. "The problem must be with your Death Eaters--."
The goblin missed the tightening around Voldemort's mouth, as the creature gestured behind him to the younger goblin. "Bring the ledgers forward, Qurok" he commanded the other Goblin. Voldemort studied the younger goblin as the other creature waddled forward and opened the dusty ledger it carried, pointing here and there to the balances, which the Death Eaters had tithed to the Dark Lord. "This is the amount supposed tithed, but this is the amount received in our vaults. As you see," the aide said. "There still is not enough--"
"Just increase the percentages," said Voldemort.
"We cannot do that," interrupted the older goblin. "We will have to confirm the withdraws with the appropriate parties and get a binding contract. Rest assured we will find the embezzler," said the first Goblin, his long pointed teeth showing his macabre parody of a smile, and then he said, almost as an afterthought-- "Sir."
"There is no time," countered Voldemort. "Increase the percentages to cover the giants' costs immediately." Voldemort almost automatically pushed against the creature's mind with a variation of Imperius, but like many non-wizard folk, the goblin was not affected.
"No, I cannot--" said the older Goblin with a slight sneer, completely oblivious to the Dark Lord's ire. No one--no creature said no to the Dark Lord and lived to tell about it. Embezzlement will not be tolerated either from wizardkind or goblin. I assure you we will get the culprit."
"You will do as I say," said Voldemort in a soft dangerous voice.
"Goblins do not take orders from wizards," continued the arrogant goblin, confirming what Voldemort's spies had told him about this particular goblin. "You might check your history. Such attempted coercion was how the first Goblin Rebellion began, and since that time, Goblins have remained neutral--" He seemed to be so used to wizard's deferring to his rather intimidating countenance that he didn't realize the danger he was in. He didn't even look up or he might have used his own brand of magic to at least make a token resistance.
The Dark Lord's growl of annoyance was over shadowed by the blast of the spell. "Avada Kedavra!"
The younger Goblin remained frozen, still pointing to the books, for just a moment his lower lip quivered, before he pulled his face into the toothy grimace common to goblins.
Voldemort took a deep breath and spoke in a soft compelling tone.. "It seems, Qurok, you have just received a promotion. You will alter the books according to my instruction. The tithe to my Death Eaters has increased. You will see that they all have binding contracts on file to that effect. Use whatever methods you need."
The Goblin stared at him wide eyed. "The wizengamut will investigate," he murmured eyeing his dead compatriot. "His death--"
"Incendio!" said Voldemort lazily and the dead goblin was consumed in flames. Nagini slithered closer to the heat with a soft sigh of contentment. "Disappearance," Voldemort corrected, putting His hand familiarly on the young goblin's shoulder. "The Wizengamut is in disarray, without their Head Mugwump, and will soon be defunct. However, the difference between--" Voldemort paused to let the facts sink in "--the embezzled funds have been split and deposited into his account…" Voldemort nodded at the smoking pile of ash that was once the senior goblin. "… and your own account."
"But I didn't--I never--" protested the young goblin, losing some of the stoicism goblins were known for."
"Don't look at me as if your lot has never cheated a wizard!" The goblin cringed under the Dark Lord's scrutiny. It was a welcome feeling. There weren't many goblins who could be intimidated and Voldemort welcomed the rush of power. "Now, you will do as I say, Qurok, and you will go far."
"Yes sir," answered the young goblin, strangely resigned to his fate. Voldemort saw no sign of his pointed teeth as he lowered himself to the task.
"The next order of business is a bit more personal," continued the Dark Lord casually. "I would like a list of every witch or wizard who has exchanged galleons to muggle money in the last year. I know most of them, but I wouldn't want to miss any of the muggle lovers."
"That's private information." The goblin hesitated and Voldemort just looked at him with his impenetrable red glare.
The Goblin looked away, but nodded.
"I also need to anonymously buy some house elves." Six should be plenty, like pallbearers, he thought to himself with a macabre grin.
"It may take me a while to procure them," the goblin said as he licked his lips, the tiny tongue peeking out from between the sharp straight teeth. It looked almost snakelike and his beady eyes were suddenly alight with greed. Perhaps, thought Voldemort, he had found a goblin he could like. Of course, they would never be wizards…just a step above house elf really…
"You can do it tonight," said the Dark Lord. "Before the evening meal." It was not a question.
"I think I can do it," said Quork.
"I know so," said Voldemort. "You goblins are a violent race. You understand that treachery must be dealt with quickly and decisively. The last goblin that crossed me didn't get off with an easy Avada Kadavra. His fellows discovered his embezzlement, and tore him to bits. Such a pity." Voldemort smiled and turned his blood red eyes on the young goblin. "Do we understand each other, Quork?"
"Yes, Sir."
Voldemort resisted the urge to tell the goblin to call him Master. There would be time, once the little creature had dug himself in a little deeper.
-- ooo --
The news about Albus Dumbledore's supposed death spread quickly Reporters inundated the castle through out the day and nothing could keep them out. Even without the proof of a body, the Profit was certain that Dumbledore was dead. The Order was reluctant to release information, but everyone wanted an interview with one of the Prophecy children. What would they do now, that Albus Dumbledore, their mentor was dead? Would they seek revenge on You-Know-Who? One reporter demanded that Harry divulge the actual words of the prophecy. Another asked did Samara really have a Dark Mark. Rita Skeeter even went so far as to ask Harry if he had a Dark Mark. They all wanted to know if Harry would have to fight Samara too now. Harry exchanged an exasperated look with Samara. He had dealt with this chaos all of his life. The Reporters blew hot and cold for as long as he could remember. One moment they loved him and the next they wanted his blood. He wished he had warned Samara to keep her mouth shut. They would twist anything she said.
Fudge brought Harry up to the head table to speak with him, but the reporters would not let them have a private conversation. Fudge told the Reporters that he had always cared deeply for Albus.
"So he was your friend?" asked one of the Reporters.
"My life long friend," replied Fudge, and Harry could not help but think that Albus' life might have lasted longer if he wasn't friends with Fudge. He couldn't out and out call the Minister of Magic a liar or a Death Eater. He simply shuddered and tried to wriggle out of the limelight.
The whole of the wizarding community was in chaos. Many who sided against Dumbledore or fancied themselves neutral parties still went to school at Hogwarts as children and had pleasant memories of the headmaster. Although they all now knew that their fate rested with Harry Potter and not Albus Dumbledore, they were afraid. Harry could almost taste the fear in the air.
"(Yes, afraid,)" said Shesha, and Harry pushed her back under his sleeve abruptly. That was all the press needed: Samara with a Dark Mark and he, the boy-who-lived with a baby basilisk on his arm. If they felt afraid before, that would terrify them, and put both Samara and himself in danger. He had no illusions about their loyalty. They had none. "(Be still and quiet,)" he hissed.
Harry knew that the thought had come home to many that now, there was only one skinny, ill equipped boy between them and Voldemort. Before, they could have put their trust in Albus Dumbledore. Now, they worried that they had only Harry: the weight on his shoulders was monumental.
The Profit printed stories about how Albus had defeated Grindlewald so long ago, and how he had groomed Harry Potter for his duel with the Dark Lord. Harry felt sick reading the twisted version of his own life and how it related to Albus Dumbledore's. The press turned Albus into a symbol of the light instead of a person, and Harry thought of how many times he lately he had doubted Albus' judgment. The man had made mistakes, yes, but that was all he was: a man. In the end, he was not a symbol or an icon of the light. He was just a man. He was a wizard who made the choices he thought were right. That was all any of them could do.
Fudge wanted to hold an official funeral, at Hogwarts itself, full of the pomp and circumstance of the Ministry of Magic, and although McGonagall strongly disagreed, saying that they were burying him before they truly knew his fate. She further stated that the newly reconstructed wards were untried. Fudge guffawed. "Do you think that with all the Ministry resources, we do not have someone competent to re-ward the castle? We may have lost our building and a number of Muggleborns, but most of the Purebloods survived. We will be fine. This is Dumbledore. We need to give the wizard a funeral that will be talked about for centuries."
McGonagall pursed her lips. "The media will intrude--"
"The media is not the enemy, Minerva," argued Fudge. "We are quite certain of Dumbledore's demise. Would you begrudge him his send off?"
McGonagal bit her lip and refused to answer. Snape sided with Fudge, but of course, Harry thought, unlike McGonagall, Snape knew Dumbledore was dead. Not only that, he knew that Voldemort had promised to return to light Dumbledore's funeral pyre. Harry glanced at Snape who was now calmly eating behind his curtain of greasy hair, biding his time, thought Harry, but to do what?
"Now is not the time to test the new wards. They don't even cover the grounds," McGonagall insisted to Fudge.
"I will send someone to take care of the wards," said Fudge.
McGonagall gave one last protest that the Great Hall was not large enough to handle the crowd.
"I think the Quiddich Pitch will do nicely. It was after all equipped for Wizarding Wireless coverage during the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Snape suggested.
Harry looked at him with open-mouthed surprise.
"Yes, very good," Fudge continued ignoring McGonagall's protests that it was January and frigid outside.
"I realize the warming charms will be a little cumbersome, especially in conjunction with the wards, but we can't shut the wizarding world away from Dumbledore's funeral. They need to see this. The people want to know, Minerva." Fudge patted McGonagall's arm reassuringly. "I'll find someone to handle the details. I know you are distraught. Albus was a personal friend of yours."
In the end, McGonagall had no say in the matter. The Board of Directors, with Fudge's urging appointed a new headmistress, bypassing McGonagall altogether when she became to cumbersome to deal with. The new headmistress' name was Delores Umbridge, and she made Harry distinctly uneasy. Simply the fact that she was approved by Fudge was enough to make Harry cringe.
"Harry, my boy," Fudge had said, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder as if he were a friend. "I had hoped that you would offer the eulogy at Dumbledore's funeral. Harry felt the tingling in his scar at Fudge's touch, but Harry said nothing about his being a Death Eater. It was a new awareness he had gained. Harry could probably walk among the Slytherins and pick out who had the Dark Mark, but considering that Ginny, Samara, Draco, Lauren and Melisande all had the Dark Mark, it no longer meant as much as it did before, and he couldn't fight the whole Ministry. It was bad enough that he was expected to kill Voldemort. Harry nodded, and spoke softly to Minister Fudge. "Surely we should wait--"
"Surely if Dumbledore were alive after the Ministry fell, he would be here," said Fudge. "Several Ministry employees saw him dueling You-Know-who."
"Perhaps there is someone else--" said Harry with a sigh.
"Well, everyone wants to know that the boy-who-lived is strong enough to take up the task before him. After all, some people have assumed you are Dumbledore's protégé, not that I was ever among them, but Harry, people want to hear from you. They want to know how you will take down You-Know-Who."
It appalled Harry that the Minister of Magic would not pronounce Voldemort's name, but he had probably called him the Dark Lord or Master to his face, thought Harry bitterly. He let his eyes drop to the floor. His thoughts immersed in his feelings of grief and guilt and regret for Dumbledore. He felt panic welling up in him to over rule the grief. He wasn't ready. He certainly was not Dumbledore's protégé.
Harry placed his hand in his robe pocket expecting to feel the comforting wood of his wand, instead he encountered a handful of smooth round pebbles. It took him a moment before he realized what--or who they were--the Muggles.
"So what do you say, Harry?" asked Fudge, and Harry just looked at him, his fist still clenched around the stones. He realized the Minister was still talking about his giving the eulogy for Dumbledore. "It would do great things for the country's moral, Harry, but I suppose I could give it myself," said Fudge, and something turned over in Harry's stomach. No. He could not allow this Death Eater to give the eulogy for Albus Dumbledore. It would be a sacrilege that someone so dedicated to the side of light didn't have one person who was on his side, stand up to offer his eulogy.
"I would like to," said Harry. "But I'm sure there must be others who--" He broke off realizing that he had almost revealed Order members names to Fudge. "I will do it," he said decisively and Fudge nodded his approval. It made Harry's skin crawl. Harry sighed and tried to apply himself to his cooling breakfast, but he was totally put off his food this morning. "If that is all Minister," he asked calmly. "I'd like to go back to the Gryffindor table."
With his hand wrapped around the pebbles, he hurried to the table, looking for Ginny to change the pebbles back into the Muggle women. He couldn't believe he had forgotten them.
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Fudge waved Harry away with barely a glance, and the reporters split themselves between him and Fudge. Harry had not yet made it back to the table when Ginny entered the Great Hall from the Slytherin side, followed by Lauren Avery.
"Ginny!" Harry called, thinking it was really Tom, and not Ginny, that he needed to change the pebbles back into Muggles. He couldn't quite wrap his mind around that fact: needed Tom. No, he didn't need anything from him. Maybe he should ask McGonagall. Oh the explanations that would require!
Ginny and Lauren were arguing, but fortunately it hadn't come to wands yet.
Shesha stirred, angered by Ginny's high emotions.
Ginny studiously ignored Lauren and she followed Ginny to the Gryffindor table. "You have to," Lauren pleaded. "Virginia!" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You can't just let him die!"
Shesha poked her head out of Harry's sleeve and hissed angrily as Visha spoke, "(You shall not threaten mistress.) Both Harry and Ginny tried to calm the angry creatures. After a moment, Ginny's eyes met Lauren's and she nodded.
"When?" Lauren persisted.
"Soon."
"Soon," croaked Lauren. "What kind of an answer is that?" Her eyes narrowed. "What if it were your father?"
Ginny hushed her. "I said I'd take care of it," she snapped. "I have to talk to Samara." and then, a little calmer, she continued in a soft voice. "I'll get the emerald, Lauren. I promise." Ginny's hand had gone to her throat where she was keeping Visha immobilized.
Lauren looked at her for a long moment and then, throwing her silky hair over her shoulder and stalked back to the Slytherin table, and sat beside Draco.
"And good riddance," muttered Ron through a mouthful of sausages. "Hey mate," he greeted Harry as Harry sat down beside him and Beatrice.
Harry pulled out the handful of pebbles, sat them on the table and looked significantly across the table at Ginny, but she applied herself to her breakfast.
"Ginny," he said. "I'm not good enough in tranfiguration to change them back."
"They're fine as they are," Ginny said between bites of porridge.
"Tom?" whispered Harry.
"Are those?" began Hermione, eyes wide, but she abruptly stopped speaking about the pebbles, realizing that they had an audience. Dean and Seamus were staring intently at them, so Hermione changed the subject. "What did Lauren want?" asked Hermione, but Ginny shook her head. "Nothing," she said.
"(Sisshausss!" hissed Visha. "(Our Sisshausss!)"
Immediately Dean and Seamus shifted away from the little group.
Shesha again stirred on Harry's wrist, but remained silent.
"It didn't look like nothing," commented Ron.
"I said it was nothing," snapped Ginny. "I can handle it. I'm not some poor little thing that needs your protection."
"(Tom?)" whispered Harry again, this time in parseltongue.
Hermione hushed him, looking carefully around, but the basilisks had caused the Gryffindors to give them a wide berth.
"What? You think only Tom has strength?" Ginny smirked at him. You have no faith in her," Tom whispered. "She's not weak, you know."
"I know, said Harry. "No one said she was--I mean--you were," Harry commented still thinking he was talking to Tom and not Ginny. He frowned. Tom was purposely trying to confuse him into thinking he was talking to Ginny. "I know who you are," Harry whispered. "What emerald was Lauren talking about?" Harry was thinking that the emerald Ginny was talking about could only mean one of the eyes of the stone basilisks in the chamber. Nothing good could come of giving it to Lauren for Voldemort's use, but he could also understand Lauren's persistence. "Ginny?" He said, softly, wanting nothing so much as to shake Tom into compliance. So Tom wanted him to think he was Ginny. If that got Tom's help, so be it. "Ginny," Harry repeated, softly reaching out to his friend, and closing his hand on her shoulder, but Ginny ignored him, along with the rest of the student body and began shoveling food into her mouth at a rate that rivaled Ron. "Ginny, we are just trying to help you."
"No, you're not," she said, shrugging away. "You're trying to save me. I can see that look in your eye, Harry Potter, and don't think I don't know what it means."
"What look?" said Harry, innocently raising what little occlumency shields he had.
"Just leave me alone," Ginny snapped. "I'm not helpless. I'm a perfectly competent witch. I 'm not the poor little girl that I was in first year who you can pick up and cuddle, OK?"
Harry stared at her completely put off by her tantrum. Harry was beginning to doubt that he was talking to Tom. Perhaps it was Ginny.
"But I am," interrupted Beatrice.
"What?" Harry gave her an exasperated look.
"A witch you can pick up and cuddle," Beatrice said, her eyes sparkling over the cup of pumpkin juice.
"I can't do that," snapped Harry.
"You did," Beatrice replied. "When I was a bunny--"
"I can't go back. Why can't you see that?" Harry asked into the sudden silence. "Can't you all see that? Dumbledore is dead?" Harry's voice had risen, and the hall was still, watching their savior. Harry pushed back from the table, overturning the chair behind him and rushed from the Great Hall. He hardly got to the corridor when Beatrice caught up with him. Both Ron and Hermione followed too but stayed back a bit when several torches fired brightly and then went out as a wind kicked up unexpectedly in the corridor.
"Harry?" Beatrice touched his arm. "Calm down. I'm still here to listen."
"We're all here, Mate," said Ron moving closer with Hermione in tow.
"Dumbledore isn't," muttered Harry. After a moment Harry spoke in a soft voice to relight the torches. "Incendio. He should have known. Dumbledore should have known," Harry said, "but he didn't. Dumbledore didn't know. He trusted Snape."
"We all make mistakes, Harry," said Hermione.
"But he wasn't supposed to--" Harry took a deep breath getting control of his emotions and his magic. "He wasn't supposed to make mistakes." Harry looked at his friends, Ron and Hermione, and Beatrice. Ginny was conspicuously absent.
"We aren't even sure if it was a mistake," Hermione added. "Maybe Dumbledore and Snape's plan just went wrong."
"That's it, isn't it," said Beatrice. "You wanted Dumbledore to be right, because if he was always right, you would know what to do now."
Miserably Harry nodded, rubbing his hands over his face.. "I'm not ready," he said. "How can I ever be ready?" Beatrice's hand was cool on his, but he didn't respond. He just stared at the stone wall and tried to control the flood of magic that wanted to consume him.
"You're thinking on it too long, Mate," said Ron. "When the time comes, you will just do what has to be done--like you always have--just like second year when you killed that basilisk."
"You're right, Ron," Harry said hesitantly. "When the time comes, I'll know what to do." He didn't know if he was trying to convince them or himself. He blew out his breath, releasing the magic he had been holding. He still wanted to break down and cry, but he couldn't--not with his friends depending upon him. Not with the whole wizarding world depending upon him.
"Come back in. Finish your breakfast," urged Hermione.
Shesha hissed. "(Yes, eat. Master will feel better with hissuss--)"
"Think I'm gonna need my strength?" asked Harry with a slight smile as he stroked the basilisk under his sleeve.
"Something like that, Mate," agreed Ron as he urged Harry to come back into the Great Hall, but by the time they got back to the table, the food had already disappeared, and Delores Umbridge, acting Head mistress, announced that Albus Dumbledore's funeral would be in two days, although there would be no viewing of the body.
Harry wondered if Dumbledore's body had actually been recovered. He knew Moody and Sirius were looking for it, but he hadn't heard from either of them since last night in the infirmary. There were so many dark spells could be done to or with a dead body. Harry shuddered.
Then Umbridge had made a bizarre announcement. Those who were not sorted by the Sorting Hat at the beginning of the term would now be Sorted. As the group of first years and handful of older students went to the front of the Great Hall, Harry felt a weight of foreboding as Beatrice hugged him. "Don't worry," he said. "After your 'mad dash' to Voldemort's realm, there is no doubt that you are a Gryffindor."
"No," she said shaking her head. "That wasn't bravery. It was loyalty."
"Nonetheless, it was brave too," said Harry, giving her a little squeeze. "I'm sure you'll stay in Gryffindor."
"I don't want to be brave," said Beatrice in a soft voice. "Not like Ginny and Hermione."
Harry looked after her confused as she hurried to the front of the room, and caught Samara's hand, as if she didn't want to stand alone.
Harry knew that he had helped with the spell to fix the Sorting Hat, but it didn't seem the right time to do this Sorting to him. Dumbledore would have had some words of wisdom for them if he were here. The loss of the Ministry building had shocked the wizarding world and it was still in an uproar. There was a chain of command, but the fear was escalating. The Order was trying to dispel some of it, but with the auror deaths including Tonks, splashed across the Prophet today, he thought that the fear would continue to run rampant until Voldemort was dead. Harry understood that the teachers were trying to bring some feeling of normalcy to the Great Hall, but he felt with Dumbledore dead, it may never be normal again. The very walls seemed to be weeping for the great wizard. He watched with a surreal feeling as Professor McGonagall clutched the Sorting Hat with nervous hands. Amazingly, most of the students seemed to be correctly sorted as the Hat resorted the beginning of the alphabet. Harry looked up as Professor McGonagall called Donnally, Samara.
The acting Headmistress, Professor Umbridge cleared her throat nervously and Professor McGonagall pulled her lips into a thin line as Samara, gently disentangled her hand from Beatrice's and walked to the Sorting Hat stool. Harry could tell she held the basilisks, but they were well hidden. He doubted that any others except for Ginny could see through her disillusionment spell.
"Here," Ginny said picking up the pebbles from the table where she had been idly rolling them back and forth. She dropped them into his hand, and gently closed his fingers around them. Her eyes met his as she smiled a wry smile. "So easy to forget them, isn't it?"
Samara's hands were sweating. Everyone was looking at her and very few seemed to have any feelings of support for her. She met Harry's eyes across the Great Hall. His healer green aura was bright and strong and Shesha poked her head out of his sleeve before he pushed her back and she felt her own basilisks stir.
Once she was seated, Professor McGonagall placed the hat on her head, as she had done for so many others before her. The Great Hall held its collective breath waiting for her sorting.
The Hat, wriggled and wrinkled itself as it situated on her head, and then began to speak to Samara alone. "Oh yes, the famed Prophecy Child," the hat sneered. "Your empathetic gifts make you a chameleon. You can fit into any house, according to the writ of the Founders, but the gift of empathy itself is wholly Hufflepuff. Shouldn't that gift decide?"
"Then the gift of parseltongue should have put both Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter into Slytherin," countered Samara. "One gift would not make the decision."
"(You speak our tongue, Mistress,)" said Salacia helpfully
"Ah--I see your logic. Very true. Logic worthy of a Ravenclaw, and yet, I cannot Sort you there either. What decision would you make? The Founders have said your choice is part of the process. You choose, Samara Donnally, since I cannot."
"Who needs me the most?" wondered Samara.
"Slytherin," said the Hat without hesitation.
"(The house of the Serpent,)" intoned Cush reverently.
"Then that is where I will go," replied Samara.
"(Yes, yes, we will go to the house of the Serpent,)" said Sawa excitedly, and some of the others stirred anxiously.
"(Be still you foolish ones,)" admonished Salacia, and the others quieted.
"A very impetuous reason to choose a house," said the Hat. "Do you realize this may affect your whole life? I stand by my original thought. Hufflepuff. Your healing qualities alone--"
"Impetuous?" laughed Samara, putting her hand at her waist to touch Salacia in gratitude for her words to the others. "Isn't impetuousness the province of the Gryffindor not Hufflepuff?"
The Hat growled its irritation at it's own indecisiveness. "Because they need you…I say you are choosing Slytherin for a very Hufflepuff reason…"
"What? Do not Gryffindors and Ravenclaws and even Slytherins respond to the needs of others?"
"Slytherins respond to their own needs and ambitions," replied the Hat. "And yet I do see ambition in you. You wish to do great things…"
"Good. Go ahead," said Samara. "Say Slytherin."
"I will not," replied the Hat petulantly. "I cannot properly Sort you. You must choose where you will go. Since you are choosing, you will say the house. I will not."
Her basilisks stirred indignantly, as Samara huffed, uncomfortable with the Hat's pronouncement. "(Hush Sweetlings,)" she murmured to the agitated basilisks.
Samara took the Hat slowly from her head and laid it on the stool. Her eyes were sad as they met Harry Potter's across the room, and Ginny who sat across from him, and then she glanced at the Hufflepuff table where she saw Sally Ann and Susan anxiously awaiting her sorting.. "The Sorting Hat will not Sort me," she said, and the Hufflepuff's gasped. . "It leaves me to decide. And so…" A slight shuffling at the Ravenclaw table brought her attention to Terry Boot, who winked at her and Aldwin who was smiling at her as he dropped runic stones on the table. It was too far for her to see what the runes showed for her, but Aldwin's face broke into a wide, knowing smile, and nodded at her. "I have loved my time in Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw--" she looked at each table in turn. "But I must choose, Slytherin." She walked confidently to the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy stood to greet her with a kiss, and Lauren Avery whispered something intensely to her before returning to her own seat. Harry put his head down on the table, the smooth round stones of the Muggles under his fingers. There was a smattering of applause from the Slytherin table, but most others were silent. The Prophecy Child had gone to Slytherin. Most thought it was a very small step from there to the Dark Lord.
Harry dragged his eyes back to the Sorting stool. Like most of the school, he couldn't quite believe that Samara had gone to Slytherin. He had expected her to stay in Gryffindor, or perhaps go to Ravenclaw. The fact that she had gone to Slytherin should mean something, but he was afraid it meant no more than she wanted to snog Draco Malfoy.
Ellis, Beatrice," called McGonagall. Harry glanced up from between his crossed arms and could see Beatrice mouthing the words. "Hufflepuff. Put me in Hufflepuff. I don't want to be brave."
"Hufflepuff!" said the Hat, and Harry wondered why he didn't think of that first year. It would have solved so many problems if he didn't have to be brave. He wondered if he could ask for a resorting…a new life…His musings came to an abrupt halt, as the Hat was placed on Edward Lestrange's head. He watched for a long while as the Hat studied him, but at last it yelled out Slytherin. Edward Lestrange tossed the Hat carelessly back on the stool as he stalked towards the Slytherin table and embraced his brother. "I guess the jig's up," he said with a shrug as the other Slytherins accepted him.
"That's no surprise," muttered Harry.
"I knew he wasn't a Gryffindor," said Ron.
"Yeah, but what are we going to do with that mural he painted on our bedroom wall?" asked Seamus
"Maybe the Fat Friar can exorcise it?" suggested Dean. "Hannah said--" Dean broke off uncertainly as Lavender glared at him.
"How can you go out with Hannah Abbott when Parvati is in St. Mungos?" she snapped.
"I'm not," said Dean. "Hannah and I are just friends, okay, but Parvati may never come out of St. Mungos--"
"Shh!" hushed Neville as Styvesent, Llewellyn was called to be Sorted. Melisande Genivee, who had already been Sorted into Gryffindor, squeezed Neville's shoulder in a comforting gesture, and he smiled and clasped her hand in his. "I'll miss Beatrice, though," he said.
"Zee little rodent was never good enough for you," said Melisande, and Neville beamed at her.
Lew's was the only other change in house, who after being sorted into Ravenclaw, came back to the Gryffindor table to tell Neville the password for Ravenclaw."
"You can't do that," admonished Hermione, her Prefect responsibilities working overtime.
"But he's my study buddy," protested Lew. "I need you Neville. Who else would I review with?"
"Don't worry about it Hermione," said Neville dejectedly. "I'll never remember the password. It's in Greek."
"Sure you will," said Lew. "Mnemonics." He frowned at Hermione's raised eyebrow and pulled Neville aside to talk seriously with him for a few minutes. After that, he hurried back to the Ravenclaw table where Padma Patel shifted over to allow him to sit by her.
"You're not going to Ravenclaw, are you?" Hermione asked Neville. "It's not allowed."
"Well," said Neville. "It's just that Lew said, they have the most amazing library in Ravenclaw. It should help our study." Neville's eyes twinkled almost mischievously. "You can come too, if you want to, Hermione." Neville began to blush as he looked at his shoes. "Lew said, Terry Boot thinks you're pretty."
"What!" snapped Ron turning on Hermione. "That egg head that always wants you to study arithmancy. I knew he didn't just want to study! He might know more curses than me, but it only takes one well placed--"
"Ron," said Hermione helplessly. "Harry!" she implored her friend.
Harry didn't answer. He wondered how they could all slide back into normal Hogwarts life with Dumbledore dead. It seemed sacrilegious.
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