Second Turn of the Wheel of the Word's End

by Pandora de Romanus

WARNING: Spoilers to The Order of the Phoenix. Who would imagine that after coming back from hell you would have to live with the Devil himself? Sequel to The First Turn of the Wheel of the World’s End. SiriusSeverus DracoHarry Slash

15. The Price

The Second Turn of the Wheel of the World's End – In the Devil's Lair

Disclaimer: JK own them. And Neil Gaiman owns Books of Magic that inspired me greatly for this chapter.

Author's Note: Well, last week I've read Neil Gaiman's "Books of Magic". It inspired me deeply and touched me and changed my whole idea about magic. This chapter is just about it. I recommend Gaiman's Graphic Novel.

SIRIUS

Oh, Hogwarts! Who would think that in thy beautiful walls a War should start and that on thy grounds, thus, it should end? I touched the walls with reverence, my heart heavy with the prospect of painting them red with blood. For there would be blood, I knew for sure. No Avada Kedavra would save us from seeing it. They say the three unforgivable are the worst a wizard can do. They forget that wizards are humans. They forget what a creative mind human kind has for destruction and carnage. "Carnage"… Severus would be proud that his vocabulary is rubbing off. There is no more fitting word, though. Carnage. Blood. It all came down to it. To the primitive solutions. To ancient spells.

Wizards have forgotten there is always a price. With magick there is always a price.

They forgot the power your real name has. How do you think we could have bond Him-who-must-not-be named if it wasn't by all the letters of his real name?

They forgot the power of Blood. The Blood Severus spilled to bring me back, the blood Harry lost to Voldemort's snakelike body.

It wasn't always just 'foolish wand waving'.

It was names and song and blood and lore from the Fair Folk. The Fair Folk… We've enslaved them, killed them, shunned them… They have so much to teach and we foolishly think we know better. And when some of us are changed it is a disease. We forgot the time when the moon would guide our ways, the power awakened by the Summer Solstice. We forgot so much.

We forgot to pay the Price.

Now… Fate comes to take his tribute in blood. Our kind's blood. Wizard blood. I don't believe this being about Voldemort and Harry anymore, nor about good and evil. I believe this is about Nature. And I know in the depths of my being's core that Nature wanted this War to remind us. To remind us of who we are, what we are, of the debt we have.

To remind us of Blood. Of names. Of past.

Of the Price.