A/N: What do you mean, this took forever to write? Actually, it hasn't. Most of it was pumped out tonight, with the occasional sentence toyed with throughout the week. So that actual writing of it didn't take all that long. It was the inspiration that took eight months, oh yes indeed. Spurred on suddenly by the urge to write a Christmas story involving my favourite original characters - which I won't be uploading yet, because I don't want to
Disclaimer: The universe of Harry Potter isn't mine... which really sucks, but such is life. Nessa and Lessien are the creations of my own deluded mind, whereas Roman and Thomas are the creations of two other, yet equally deluded minds. So now you know.
Nessa curled up in the darkest corner, cradling Lessien's invisible body in her lap, holding her close. Tears streamed down her cheeks again, and she let out a small sob, despite trying to stay silent. It wasn't fair – life wasn't fair! What, in Merlin's name, had made her youngest sister decide to take on the force of the Avada Kedavra curse instead of just letting it hit Thomas and herself?
"I didn't even get to know you properly," she whispered hoarsely, a sob interrupting her words as she tried desperately to vocalise what she was feeling. She didn't even notice that the spell Thom had cast on the girl was beginning to wear off, the unmarked body starting to appear.
Distracted by an unfamiliar sound, Nessa looked furtively around the room, her eyes focusing quickly on the entrance into the room as the handle seemed to shift of its own accord.
'They've found me!' she thought immediately, her eyes frozen on the trapdoor-like entrance as it began to rise up out of the floor. Her heart pounding, she tried to slide back further, deeper into the shadows, only to find that the wall was already pressing firmly against her back. Whimpering slightly, she curled up as much as possible around Lessien and tried to melt into the wall, terrified that the Death Eaters had managed to track her down. Hopefully the room was too dark for the person climbing out of the trapdoor to see her – certainly, all she could see was a silhouette.
"Nessa, I know you're in here," came a voice, clearly from the new-comer, and Nessa frowned – despite the distorting effects of the room, that voice sounded awfully familiar. Not wanting to risk it, just in case she was wrong, she opted for staying silent and still, trying to breath as quietly as she could.
"Look, Nehemiah told me you're in here, and he wouldn't lie to me… at least, not if he values what's left of him," the person grumbled and stepped further into the room, leaving the entrance open. Frowning slightly, Nessa listened carefully and her eyes widened as she heard the usual twitterings from the face-in-the-wall in the Charms classroom – she didn't know it even left that room! And that sort of threat…
"Roman?" she ventured quietly, praying that she was right and that she wouldn't be immediately blasted to pieces by an angry Death Eater. She watched as the figure swung immediately in her direction and made its way unerringly towards her, fear still swirling through her.
"Pet, what's the matter? What took you so long to reply?" the voice, now so clearly Roman's, asked in concern, the Slytherin girl kneeling in front of Nessa.
"I-… they-… The Death Eaters," Nessa forced out, her voice cracking as her emotions broke free once more. "They killed her, Rome!"
Silence filled the room as Roman tried to work out what Nessa meant. The Hufflepuff girl had gone to meet Lessien on Friday, and had got back to Hogwarts well after midnight… what had… Moving swiftly, she pulled her wand out of her robes and quickly lit the various candles about the room, her eyes taking in Nessa's messy appearance and tears streaming down her face, before she even noticed the petite girl that Nessa was cradling.
"Holy Satanica," she muttered, not sure what to do. "Is that…?"
"It's Lessien," Nessa whispered, gently rolling her sister's body so that her hair fell free and uncovered her face. "It was meant for me – they were going to kill me!"
'This is going to haunt her for life,' Roman thought as she silently wrapped her arms about her friend and let the girl cry for as long as she needed to.
"Why do you tell me everything, hey?" she suggested quietly, smoothing back Nessa's tangled hair and tilting her friend's face up to her. "Then we'll see what can be done…"
Dawn found the girls still in the secret spot, Nessa's head on Roman's shoulder, her face red and tear-stained.
"What if they caught him?" she asked quietly for the numerous time, chewing at her lower lip.
"Pet, as much as I don't want to admit it, the lad's got a smart head on his shoulders," Roman reassured Nessa, smoothing the girl's hair. "He won't have been caught."
"Yes, but-…" Nessa began, and then cut off as a strange light began to fill the room. Cowering back against Roman, she watched it fearfully until the light suddenly burst into bright flames and a phoenix appeared.
"Uh… friend of yours?" Roman inquired softly, tapping Nessa gently on the shoulder even though both girls were fixated on the magnificent creature.
A soft, musical sound filled the room, and Nessa watched as the phoenix made its way over to her – the song was clearly coming from it. Stopping just in front of the two girls, it stood there, chortling away in its musical voice, examining them closely by tilting its head in almost every direction. Obviously satisfied, the bird let out one loud shrill note and disappeared, the high note still hovering in the air.
"I guess it might have been Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore's bird, but… well, they all look the same, don't they?" Nessa murmured quietly, staring as though enchanted at the spot the phoenix had been standing less than five seconds earlier before frowning lightly, reaching out to grab the envelope that had been left in Fawkes' place. She ripped it open and began to scan its contents, going back to the beginning and reading it out loud once she'd reached the end.
"'Nessa, I've found Dumbledore, and we've talked everything through. He's tried to find you through that chain I gave you, but something's blocking his magic.'" At that, Roman cast an innocent look at the ceiling, knowing all too well what was preventing Dumbledore tracing Nessa, but the petite Hufflepuff continued reading. "'He's got this crazy notion (you know what he's like) that Fawkes will be able to find you where his magic failed, so here's to hoping. Anyways, the Professor wants to talk to you. Since we can't come to you, you'll have to come to us. If you can. Leave Lessien where she is, obviously she'll be fine, but meet me and Dumbledore in his office. He says you know where it is.'"
"That's that, then," Roman said into the silence that had fallen once Nessa had finished reading. "Off you go. I'll stay here with Lessien."
"I'm not sure I can," came to quiet reply, and with that simple sentence, Roman heard all of Nessa's pent-up fears and emotions as clearly as if the girl had told them to her.
"Of course you can, pet," Rome told her, scooting forwards to put her arms about the girl once more. "You know precisely where you are, and precisely where you're going. It's all through the castle, you don't have to go outside once. There's no chance that anything will happen to you on the way." 'Nothing else will happen to you,' she amended in the safety of her own mind.
Drawing a shuddering breath, Nessa slowly straightened in Roman's grasp, gently disentangling herself and rising to her feet.
"You're right, I just have to go," she murmured quietly, although clearly she was still reluctant to leave the relative safety of Roman's hideout. "Will you stay here with Lessien?"
"Wouldn't dream of being anywhere else," replied Roman sincerely, and watched as Nessa nodded slightly and let herself down the trapdoor, leaving the Slytherin to her own devices.
Roman sat quietly for a moment, waiting until she was absolutely certain that Nessa was away from the hideout. Far away.
"That's it," she muttered, dusting her hands unconsciously against her trousers and rising to her feet. "Alright Nehemiah, get your cheerful little arse out here now!" She was almost certain that the strange spirit was lingering about the place, and she wanted a word with him. Forcing herself to stand still, she allowed a full minute to elapse, and when no sign of Nehemiah's whitterings approached, she let out a soft growl of frustration.
"You have ten seconds to show yourself, Nehemiah," she stated softly, her eyes starting to glint dangerously in the low light of the room. "Don't do yourself the disservice of waiting that long to find out what I'll do to you otherwise." She didn't notice the slight echoing of thunder in her words, nor the faint deepening of her voice, she was too focused on listening for Nehemiah's approach. Sure enough, she could hear the blasted thing coming, yet she kept her gaze firmly on the wall opposite her.
"You called for me, o Threatening One?" Nehemiah chortled as his face appeared on the floor, his seemingly permanent grin present.
Drawing a deep breath to calm herself, Roman finally looked down at the face, only to watch in surprise as Nehemiah tried to recoil backwards, a feat made difficult by the fact that there was no 'backwards' for him.
"Ah. Yes. I see what you mean," he babbled, voice rising briefly in pitch before lowing back to its usual androgenous timbre. "I'll get your father right away."
Roman's jaw dropped open – how had he known? She pondered the thought for a moment, tapping her lip with a long fingernail that was slowly being tinted with black.
"It appears that Nehemiah was right for once," Lou said, his unmistakable voice sending ripples of power through the air surrounding Roman.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, munchkin, that you appear to be coming into your powers earlier than you should be. That would be your mother's fault, I'm sure. Obviously, you can't help that you're female, and your mother's blood certainly wouldn't be helping with that, but-…"
"Dad," Roman said simply, cutting off the flow of words from Lou and missing the similarity between her own voice and her father's at that moment. "Nessa's sister was killed tonight. I want you to bring her back."
Lou stumbled into silence, and for a moment, nothing broke the stillness of the room apart from the faint drip of water in the background. "Munchkin, I understand that you want to help Nessa. I mean, she is quite close to your heart and all, but…"
"But what, Dad?" Roman enquired and looked down at the face imprinted temporarily on the floor, her eyes blazing in barely contained fury. "It doesn't get much simpler than this. Lessien was a Death Eater. She's going to go to Hell for that, regardless of how she died. Hell is your domain, which means you can do whatever you want. You keep telling me to ask you if I want help with something, and this time I do. Bring her back."
"Ah yes, well… about that, you appear to have a mistaken impression. I can't just do what I want, you see. There are rules that I have to follow. You have no idea what you're asking me here. Bringing Lessien back… it could rip the very fabric of life apart, munchkin. Come on, give me another one. Something easier to grant." His easy smile seemed slightly tense and forced, and Roman merely glared at him.
"This isn't a game, Dad. I'm not asking you to bring someone back from the dead on a random flight of fancy. Nessa cared for Lessien, and it's going to scar her for life if she has to deal with the memory of her sister dying to save her. Bring her back," she articulated slowly.
Lou spluttered incoherently, obviously trying to make his point understood by his daughter. "Sweetheart, it's tempting, and I understand why you want this done, but… I just can't," he admitted finally, his voice implying a shrug of defeat. Mentally, he crossed his fingers and hoped that the glowering girl above and in front of him would keep her temper.
"Dad, please."
"I've told you, I can't."
"Daddy…"
"No."
"But-…"
"I said, no."
Roman struggled with herself for a moment, her dismay at her father's refusal warring with the anger the same refusal caused her. She never lost her temper, that wasn't her way. Now wasn't the time to start losing it.
"Dad…"
"I'm not listening, Roman."
"Lou."
No response.
"Satan."
A flicker of movement, almost a shiver, but again, no verbal reply. Roman clenched her teeth, biting down on the harsh words building in her throat.
"If that's all, Roman De La Croix, I'll be off…"
The world exploded about her.
In a distant part of her mind, Roman acknowledged the strange happenings, the fact that her shirt stretched, strained and finally tore apart at the seams, no longer fitting her. She felt her ever-present top hat, a gift from Lou, topple away from her head, her trousers growing tighter yet not splitting. She felt her own body changing shape, toning and losing all that made it so feminine. She acknowledged it all, yet at the same time, it seemed so unimportant. The hat did nothing but hide her true self – what use was it? And if a shirt no longer fitted, there was no point in keeping it. Her body changing shape was above and beyond her comprehension, and so he mind conveniently prevented her from questioning it. The fact that these changes were happening in a few seconds held no importance to her.
The darkness surrounding her, instead of frightening her, did nothing but exude comfort and reassurance, providing something she had felt hinted at all her life but never experienced so fully before. The latent power that had lain still within her for sixteen years soared upwards and burst out of her, triggered and fuelled by her anger.
"You're not going anyway, Father," Roman grated, and the voice that resonated back to her sounded nothing like her. If anything, it resembled Lou's – its strength, power, the underlying echoes of thunder. Above all else, it was unequivocally male. Roman had achieved her birthright.
The Son of Satan had come into his powers, and he wasn't happy.