Disclaimer: Not mine, remember about propaganda?


I wanna heal
I wanna feel
What I thought was never real
I wanna let go of the pain I've felt so long
I wanna heal
I wanna feel
Like I'm close to something real
I wanna find something I've wanted all along
Somewhere I belong.

-Somewhere I Belong- Linkin Park


hold me down and don't forget to cry

issalee


It had only been two weeks, but already Harry was adjusting quickly.

He learned the new Luna inside and out. She always disappeared into a small room she never let anyone inside, which he suspected led to somewhere else, whenever she wanted to be alone. She was quiet, prone to mumbling, and had burst of melancholy at odd times.

But the old Luna Lovegood was still there.

The first (and last) time he'd finally managed to persuade Genevieve to take them outside, it had been only last Wednesday. The succubus had given in easily enough; she showed all the signs of a growing crush of immense proportions on Harry.

She had taken them out the back, sneaking past Nestea and through a large, ornate door. It was beautiful, outside; the rolling hills and green, lush land was perfect, unmarred by any building but the old castle they were inside of.

Both Harry and Genevieve had been surprised when Luna had smiled widely and kicked off her shoes, letting her hair flow loose from its tight braid long enough for her to begin dancing.

Harry watched, amused, as Genevieve's wild and flirty nature led her to dance as well, both of the girls shrieking and laughing gaily as the wind carried their exaltations all across Britain and the Emerald Isle.

They hadn't gotten back until it was dark outside, and, luckily for them, Nestea had not noticed their absence.

It was, Harry reflected, one of the better moments in his time spent here. By now he was sure both he and Luna were prisoners, and he'd trade his wand and all his wizarding knowledge back in if Bellatrix Lestrange, Tynan Malfoy and Lucius Malfoy were not lurking around somewhere.

He wasn't so sure about Genevieve, who seemed so comfortable in the dark and moody hallways, it was as though she'd been around them all her life. Like at this moment, when she was skipping happily down one in which the candles had blown out. Harry was following her tentatively, wishing desperately that he had been allowed Tidget to guide him, or even Middy, clumsy as she was.

"Are you sure she knows where we're going?" Harry whispered under his breath. Luna, who was striding purposefully to his right, merely nodded. "She wouldn't dare lead us astray, not while you're around," she said, a little bitterly.

Harry had learned to ignore this as well. He had the feeling Luna's own feelings were just anxiousness and worry, not anything like what Genevieve felt for him.

"Harry!" Nestea had opened a door, flooding the hallway with light. She narrowed her eyes at the succubus standing innocently in front of her, who had quickly changed from the clingy black dress she had been wearing to a pair of giant overalls and a hooded sweatshirt.

"I love you," Genevieve burbled. "Have I ever told you that I loved you?" Behind her back, she waved Luna and Harry on. The two smiled and waved at Nestea, who looked a little frazzled as she tried to move away from the succubus's charms.

Harry and Luna broke into a run halfway down the hall, and collapsed in a pile in front of the door they had been searching for. Luna smiled breathlessly as she looked up at the door. "Well, here it is. Big drawing room, where we are not allowed to play in."

Harry adjusted his glasses and peered at her intently. "Play in? I'd think we were big enough to call it 'dating' now…"

Luna wrinkled her nose and shoved him. She stood up and brushed the dust off her dress, and then froze unexpectedly. Harry stood as well and tried to ask what was wrong, but she shushed him and took his hand.

"We've got to go, there are people inside," she hissed. "Not good people, either."

"What?" Harry said sarcastically. "There are some good ones here after all? Luna, is it the Master and Mistress?"

"No."

Harry sighed. "Yes. It is. And I really do think that if you're done trying to hide whatever it is you want from me, I would like to personally thank them for saving my life." So saying, he wrenched his hand from Luna's and pulled open the door.


Harry had been expecting to see these people. He was prepared for their reactions, the drawn wands, and maybe his death, whether accidental or not. Around the same time that he realized Hedwig was not coming back, he had also realized that there was no way on Earth he could ever possibly break out of here, and had resigned himself to fate.

So when he entered the room, ready to die and get it over with, what he least expected the barely aware adults to move slightly, making space for him on the couch. Bellatrix Lestrange was sitting at a chair, looking oddly sane at the moment. Her dark hair was curled into ringlets that fell to cover her eyes, and the blood red corset-dress she was wearing reminded Harry of a Vampyre. He frowned, thinking that there was something else he should be thinking.

Strangely, he couldn't muster up any hate towards her. Or, in fact, towards anyone sitting in front of him. It was another one of those spells, he thought worriedly. The ones that were coming more and more, where he forgot names and faces. The mantra he had repeated since Nestea had woken him up two weeks back was still running through his mind, but he had totally forgotten the names of his professors. Dumbledore was still there, but fading quickly. He had forgotten his dorm mates.

Ronald Bilius Weasley, Hermione Jane Granger, he repeated firmly to himself. He may have forgotten much of his adventures with the two as well, but there was no way he would actually forget them.

"Harry," Tynan Malfoy said throatily.

Oh. He had also forgotten he was standing in the room with them, still, with a contemplating look on his face.

"Why don't you sit?" she gestured to the spot next to Lucius. On Lucius's right side was the man Harry had seen his first day awake; Antonin Dolohov, he thought, relieved that he remembered.

"Sit?" he repeated innocently. "I'd rather not. Sitting around murderers upsets my palette."

Tynan laughed. "Such a dear, sweet child you are. Harry, do you remember Bellatrix?"

He nodded. What were they getting at? Bellatrix stood suddenly, and Harry took a step back. He ran into Luna, however, and stiffened as she pushed him away and wordlessly headed for Bellatrix, who opened her arms and embraced her as though they were sisters.

"Luna?" Harry whispered, eyes growing wide. He spun around to glare at Tynan. "What the hell did you do to her? It's like you've sucked her soul out!"

"Ooh," the lady Malfoy said, clapping. "Very perceivable, Harry, I'm proud!"

"Shut up," he hissed irritably at her. Harry rubbed at his forehead, feeling a headache in the process of arriving. He concentrated instead on Tynan, ignoring Bellatrix, who had sat down and pulled Luna to kneel on the floor beside her, and Lucius and Antonin, who were returning the favor and having a conversation amongst them. Tynan smiled obligingly.

"This is not a showdown between the both of us, Harry," she said, smile disappearing quite quickly. "It's just you against the world."

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" Harry said quietly. He pressed a hand to his scar, which was beginning to throb. He remembered vaguely that this only happened when Voldemort had been around, and he hadn't felt it in so long it took a while for him to register it for what it was.

"Come here," Tynan said, and then, ignoring her own request, she stood and crossed the room so quickly Harry had no time to do anything but flinch as she laid a cool hand on his cheek. "Yes," she whispered.

"Yes what?" Harry said back, in the same quiet voice. He imagined he heard the door opening behind him, but he heard no new voices join the conversation, and assumed it was Genevieve entering. He wondered what she would do.

"Harry, what did I just say? I have found that I'm right," she said, lifting the hand only to trace his scar. Harry shivered. "I could give you so much, Harry. Forget riches and power, I realize it's not what you want. You know, I could have all the pressure stop. Every moment of your life that you have faltered and made a mistake, I can erase. No one need remember. I'll take away the people who would do nothing but hurt you, darling Harry. I'd raise you as my own."

The Gryffindor clutched at his head. "NO," he said, loudly. "Get out of my head, get out get out get OUT!"

There was a small noise of protest and he whirled around to see Nestea, being restrained by Genevieve, who was looking unusually worried. "Don't interfere, stupid maid, you won't be able to do anything."

"You too?" Harry said softly. He made as though to reach for his wand, and then remembered he didn't have it. A hand turned him around to face Tynan again, and he became more and more aware of the intense silence pressing around him as she leaned her forehead against his. This time, when Harry shivered, it was more because of the intimacy the gesture suggested than anything. Someone else had done the same thing with him, in a hallway, under the shade of thousands of feathers…

"Forget him," Tynan cooed, "forget him and come with me, Harry. Do you remember your parents?"

James and Lily Potter.

"You had none. They left you. They killed themselves, because they refused to join the one man who could have given you life. They would rather have risked your life than safely surrendering. I enjoyed killing them, Harry."

"Did you," the boy whispered, "bring them back? After the Avada?"

The lady Malfoy laughed. "Of course not, no one can. But you let down your defenses long enough for me to infiltrate your mind. Sudden shock does that. I merely formed an image you could remember, darling, darling Harry."

"Don't call me…darling," Harry gasped. He suddenly felt very dizzy.

"It's too early," Lucius spoke at last. "His mind will not be read so easily. What are you trying to do, sister?"

"He is ready," Tynan said, still murmuring soothingly. "I'm going to extract the rest of his memories. This is the training period, Lucius. I do not think I will need you very much for this."

"You don't think is right, Tynan," Lucius sneered and stood up. "I am the new Dark Lord, not you, whatever you may think."

"You are weak," Tynan said, rolling her eyes in exasperation. Harry stepped back, taking his chances, but she didn't seem to notice as she turned to her brother. "How many times have I told you, Lucius? You seem to actually care for your son as though he is a human being, and as though he will eventually come back to you. It won't happen. This boy, standing in front of me, has poisoned his mind already. Nothing you do will ever make Draco come back to you, absolutely nothing, and it's all this boys' fault!"

Her eyes were blazing as she spoke, and now Tynan seemed positively excited. She raised an arm and pointed at her older brother, who immediately froze in his spot, cool eyes still regarding her appraisingly. There was the crackling of obvious magic in the air, and soon it became visible; like lighting, spreading across the arms of Tynan, spilling across the carpet, flooding the room with light, and blinding the occupants as she spoke more excitedly.

The words spilled from her mouth like water from a pitcher, as did the magic. Lucius watched in horror as it attached itself to his legs, golden strand by golden strand, wrapping around them and effectively rendering him motionless.

When his survival instinct kicked in, Harry turned around and prepared himself to take a running leap. Instead, he found he couldn't move himself either. He looked down and a small moan left his mouth as the golden magic wound up his legs, around his torso and his arms. He opened his mouth to scream and nearly gagged as the crackling magic moved into his mouth and down his throat, settling in his stomach like new warmth.

"I will kill that boy!" Tynan shrieked in a high voice. "I will kill Draco Malfoy, for all the trouble he has caused me, and if Harry Potter must die in the process then so help me I will kill him myself as well! And you might be my brother but you are a pawn!"

She whirled around and pointed to all the occupants of the room in turn, eyes narrowing as her essence wrapped itself around them too. "You are all pawns! I will use you no matter what you would like, and I will kill you whenever I want! Your only goal is to fulfill my wishes! Do you hear? My wishes, my wishes, MINE!"

Harry's eyes rolled in the back of his head and he pitched forward, catching himself in time to just fall to his knees. There was a strange new sensation in his body, spreading rapidly.

Hermione Jane Granger, Ronald Bilius Weasley he thought frantically, and then panicked as he saw, in his mind's eye, the names being erased letter by precious letter.

"No," he sobbed, and a scream tore itself from his throat as images went too. A face, pale and thin, a smile, lithe hands and beautiful wings, memories, both good and bad, all ripped from him. He screamed again, tears streaming down his face as he watched Sirius fade from his psyche, his parents folding into themselves, Remus Lupin crackling away, his friends, the Weasleys, all the years at Hogwarts, Voldemort.

"Remember the Muggles!" a voice cried, just as he saw his years with the Dursleys leaving as well. "Only the punishments! I want everything bad, all of them!"

And the memories came pouring back, but now Harry was only crying, feeling physically ill as Ron shouted at him, ignored him, Hermione leaving him to his own devices, the last few days he had spent before coming here, and the terrible, terrible days he had spent after Draco had—had…

And then it all stopped.

Harry fell to the ground, clutching at the rug and staring at the grainy wood, silent while his brain digested its newly rearranged order. The golden magic slowly seeped back to Tynan, and everyone slumped back, exhausted. Everyone, that was, but Lucius, who remained standing, eyes glazed over and a thin band of the crackling energy around his head like a crowning circlet.

They all watched, no one daring to breath, when Harry stood shakily, chest heaving and eyes till tearing. He looked at his hands as though he'd never seen them before, stared at them hard like he could change them and their owner.

Finally, he looked up and glanced at each of the people occupying the room, lingering on Bellatrix's face for a long moment, and then Lucius's, and finally, Tynan's. She smiled winningly at him.

Nestea, who had been somewhat composed up until then, brought a hand up to her mouth. The woman didn't even appear frazzled after that awesome display of power, and now Harry, poor Harry…

Was taking quick steps to Tynan, who opened her arms and embraced him as though he were her son.

"Yes," she said quietly, running her fingers through his hair. "You just couldn't resist, could you, Harry. No worries, I shall treat you fine."

He sniffed into her dress, and clutched at her like a child at his mother's skirts. Tynan stroked his head, lulling him gently into a semi-sleepy state. She looked up sharply at Nestea, who reeled back a little.

"Get Middy to escort Antonin back to his room. Have Tidget bring Lucius to his; make sure neither of them wander. And you, wench, bring the rubbish back to their room." She inclined her head slightly to Luna and Bellatrix, who both seemed undisturbed by her derogatory terms. Luna, however, was glaring coldly at the floor, as though she wasn't sure whether she should be mad at it or not.

Harry suddenly sagged totally, and Tynan held onto him. "He's tired…I shall take him to his room. Be sure," she said finally, looking at Genevieve, "that you get the message across to his friends that I have him."

The succubus nodded, and vanished.

All was quiet.


Draco had not meant to wait so long before moving out, but there was the matter of alerting the apparently large amount of people he was taking, although he'd been firm with his decision of making sure Finnegan, Longbottom, and Thomas didn't come along. Carina had designated herself as Official Purveyor Over The Stupid Boys and stayed behind, but Draco was still unhappy. He went so far as to even suggest that Weasley stay behind too but at that they stayed firm, so he was forced to demand that Ginny stay as well.

"Shut up," she muttered forcibly, for the umpteenth time. They were settling onto the brooms they'd borrowed (stolen) from the Slytherin quidditch team, considering no one would be using them anyway. Draco had the broom he was suddenly very thankful Blaise and Carina had gotten for him.

Ginny was very adamant against Draco's so called "childish and idiotic" decisions. He was very hurt, considering the fact that not only was she a girl and she was lecturing him, but she was a girl, a Weasley, and one of his BEST FRIENDS lecturing him.

Very embarrassing indeed.

"Because of you," he muttered, still upset, "we had to wait a whole three days for all of you to pack and decided who would come and all the jazz. And then stupid Granger here had to make sure that the teachers wouldn't notice—"

"It would give us a head start and you know it, Malfoy, with lots of extra time," Hermione interrupted. "It's all been arranged. I've been unbelievably upset over Harry's death and sought you out, and Seamus fancied he saw me talking to you, Pansy and Blaise. A moment later we disappeared, so Ron and Ginny went to look for us. According to Neville, we were later sighted hop-skipping our merry little way to the Room of Requirement, after which Dean will state he saw all of our morbid selves sneaking out by the lake, separately."

"And then Malcolm Baddock will come up with individual sightings for the each of us," Blaise said brightly. "Because if he does not, I will be forced to let out all those pictures of him snuggling with that pink teddy bear."

"It'll get his mind off his father as well," Pansy added, yawning a little. It was only a little over four in the morning. "Can we get going?"

Draco nodded shortly and kicked off, adjusting the knapsack on his shoulder slightly. Except for what seemed to be the unlimited amount of strawberries Hogwarts had, he hadn't fed for months now, and his natural urge to feast was taking its toll on him. He restrained himself because it would be a waste, anyway, since he wouldn't be able to swallow without retching since it wasn't Harry. And the person would die.

He was lucky he was still able to fly properly, Draco reflected. These days he always felt a little wave of nausea coming over him at the most inappropriate times. He still hadn't told anyone about the rare times when he even fainted because of the extreme hunger pains he kept experiencing.

He only hoped they weren't too late.

Behind them, Hogwarts was already a small speck, left without pomp or ceremony of any kind. He felt vaguely guilty, but only gripped his broom handle harder.

No sense in turning back now.


"You should be gone now," Remus commented lightly. The man next to him shifted, the only movement he was really making these days.

"Yeah, well…so what?"

Remus laughed, although there was no humor in it. "Here, let's get started. We should just count our blessings and get to Harry as fast as we can. Your little moments set us back a while."

"I had to go back and regain some of my strength!"

"But you used up your last chance," Remus reminded him gently. "And now look what's happening. I've had to bind your soul to this decrepit form and see if it holds you, and in the process, carry you all around the countryside. I should've just eaten you."

The man glared at him, and then rolled his eyes. "Let me on your back, hurry. That wave of magic we felt wasn't for fun, I suspect, and we're still pretty far off. We should be there soon, right?"

"By Harry's birthday, we should all be free."

"What day is it today?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Remus said, a little snappishly. The man cringed and Remus smiled softly in apology. "Sorry. I guess it's around the last few days of June now."

"Gee, how many red moons is that?" the man asked, sarcastically. Remus didn't answer. They'd seen too many moons tinged with a rusty color these days, a sure omen of bad luck, and he wasn't sure how to respond to that. Everything was being affected by it these days. Even when he was transformed, most of his human mind remained; enough, anyway, to take the man on his back and travel.

He wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not.

"Stop brooding and let's go, bumpkin."

Remus sighed and stooped so that his companion could slide on. "Why do you think that's an insult? Is it because you think you're so high and mighty because of some of your adventures?"

There was silence, for a moment, and then the man leaned down and spoke as they continued their trek. "No. It's because right now, we're saving Harry, and we're heroes. And heroes aren't bumpkins. Besides, don't you want to prove to him we're a little noble, for once? Bring a little royal blood to our name?"

"You're exaggerating. Being a hero doesn't mean that you have to be a king. Ever heard of Robin Hood?"

"No."

"Yes, you have!"

They bickered as they walked, the only reprieve in the oppression of the dark and silent forest.


The bug crawled along Draco's forearm, waking him from the deep sleep he had been in. Groaning, the blonde sat up, and then winced. Apparently his wings had decided to come out and fold themselves over him, one standing halfway in the air and the other dropping miserably and wrapping itself around him.

"About time you're awake," someone said. Blaise approached him in the near-darkness they were in, and Draco frowned.

"Where are we?"

"Somewhere along the coast," Hermione's voice came from the midst of the darkness. "We were flying over that little wizarding town, Botbost, and you suddenly keeled over. You're lucky Ginny's got seeker's reflexes still pounded into her by Harry and managed to hang onto your arm until we could catch up."

"So much for flying nonstop," Blaise said cheerfully. "I thought it was just fatigue, I mean we've been flying for three days straight, right? But then Granger and Pansy do that smart thing they like to do and—wow—we find out it's because you're getting weaker from not having fed! Forgot to tell us, Draco?"

The Slytherin in question was suddenly glad that his father had made sure he was unable to blush in public, a skill that came in handy now. "How long has it been? And where's Pansy, Ginny and Weasley?"

"Oh, Ron's knocked out cold in the back of this cozy cave here, and Pansy and Ginny are out collecting some new food. It's been at least four days now, in which we've had to slow our advance because you might have killed yourself or something."

"How—" Draco started, confused, but then Blaise plopped down next to him, and began to wring water from a cloth. He shoved it onto his friend's forehead and forced Draco into a lying down position.

"Granger's pretty smart, Draco. She and Ginny waltzed into Botbost after you fell and got a few locals drunk. They spoke quickly, and said that some people had been heading back and forth between London and someplace over the countryside, and that some weird meetings had been conjuring up rumors. Oh, and some pretty girl who was apparently, very morbid and reserved and whose family held the deeds to the town we're in right now has disappeared."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Everything," Hermione said clearly. "They think the people who keep coming and leaving are doing it. A while before, they said that someone came in the middle of night and requested a room at the nicest inn there. He looked like an angel, they said, because of his fair hair and blue eyes."

"Father," Draco said, realization dawning quickly. "He came here and took the girl?"

"She was gone the next morning, so was he, and she had left all her things here."

Draco was about to ask what the family had said, but then an intriguing thought struck him. "What was the girl's name? And what town is this?"

Blaise tapped his chin thoughtfully. "You know, I can't remember, but it was exotic sounding and she's supposed to be really very pretty. At least, everyone kept repeating that. The town's called Mirtock. Pretty gothic place, though, and the family's unbelievably freaky, all pale, and they didn't even seem all that worried about the girl either, and—Draco? What's wrong?"

The Slytherin had abruptly leapt to his feet, and, just barely remembering to fold his wings in, he had gone in the general direction of Hermione's voice. He nearly tripped over her legs and ignored her exclamation of surprise, choosing instead to keep walking and hoping, until he got outside in a sudden burst of light.

"Draco!" Ginny waved at him, smiling. She and Pansy were both lugging full and heavy knapsacks; apparently, the foraging mission had been a success. A drowsy Ron was still rubbing sleep from his eyes as he came stumbling out of the cave, followed by Blaise and Hermione.

"This town isn't safe," he said, leaving no room for argument. "Get the brooms, get your stuff, and let's go."

They started to protest, but he glared at them all. His agitated state subconsciously channeled itself into his powers, and a light breeze stirred the winds around him. Draco forced himself to remain calm.

"Get. The brooms. Now."

No one said a word as they followed his orders.


Twenty minutes later, as they sat astride their various broomsticks, hugging the wood tightly and in a v-formation just as tight, Ginny questioned Draco on their hasty retreat. The young Malfoy looked down at the green, rolling lands below them with hooded eyes before shaking his head worriedly.

"The town wasn't safe. The family name is LeCroix. And the girl's name is Genevieve."

"Geez, master powers of deduction," Blaise said, but Draco shook his head.

"No, my father knew them. Very well, in fact. The family, didn't you notice something odd about them? Think hard?"

There was a moment of silence, and then Ron spoke up. "You know, come to think of it, when I was sitting there waiting while they talked to the family, I noticed something. I never saw any guys inside of the house; there were plenty outside, but none were inside."

"Exactly," Draco said, nodding. "Genevieve's real mother, not the adopted one who took care of her, was a succubus. Genevieve is as well, and a very powerful one. She was a great asset during the war with the Dark Lord, because when she took your soul, she took your life essence with it. Unlike other succubus's powers, which merely break down the soul as food, Genevieve can eat human food and life essences. She has no need for the soul, and leaves it someplace. This usually results in eternal agony since the soul can go nowhere, and some are not lucky enough to have the willpower needed to become a ghost."

"Hold on a second," Pansy said, a little incredulously. "How come we don't know about this, Blaise and I?"

"Because I never thought it fit to tell you. Father usually ignored the family, since they took all the necessary precautions. They made sure only women were around Genevieve, so that she wouldn't cause an unnecessary disturbance or leave any ghosts or anything lying around. That's why the Dark Lord used her so often; she could entice nearly any man, and the only reason she's still alive now is because while the Dark Lord was doing his dirty work, namely the killing of families such as Harry's and Longbottom's, she was here. The townspeople hid her in exchange for a vow not to kill anyone there."

"But they said she was around our age," Ginny told him. "She can't have been a baby when she did that, could she? If she did it when V—V—Voldemort was around, I mean."

"She's a succubus," Draco said flatly. "I'm not sure of her real age, but she's around three thousand years old."

Ron's broom bucked.

"And," the Slytherin added, ignoring the redhead's attempts to rein in his broom, "she happens to respect Tynan Malfoy dearly. The people love her, since Tynan is their main source of funds. They've probably already brought word to her of suspicious people asking too many questions. But this means one good thing came out of it."

"What fresh hell?" Blaise, who was used to Draco's idea of good things, moaned.

"She'll come to us if she can help it," Draco said. "We'll go until dusk, and I'm sure she'll find us. Genevieve has a soft spot, as a part human, and even if she didn't, Tynan will want to boast. We might as well make it quicker."

"This is good?" Ron asked.

Draco laughed.


And, just as Draco predicted, Genevieve did come to them.

They were sitting under the shade of a large forest that seemed to have sprouted quite suddenly in the midst of the countryside; Hermione said it was called, plainly, The Forest, because no one had survived in it long enough to figure out what exactly was there besides trees.

"Are you sure this place is safe?" Ron asked irritably. He scrunched closer to the small fire Draco had allowed them to build, warming his hands.

"Put your cloaks on, then," Draco said, noticing the rapid mimicking of his movements across the clearing. He was strangely untouched by the weather, but he brushed it off as another Urian side effect.

"Nothing could be worse than this," Ron went on. "In the middle of a forest no one's come out of alive, and stuck with three Slytherins and two girls. Oh, and we're on a mission to rescue my best friend, who is also my enemy's soul mate, from a mad, bloodthirsty witch and some people we don't even know about. And we're lost. Plus we all seem to have realized that our wands don't work in this forest. Bloody perfect."

"You forgot the part about the mysterious girl," a voice said loftily. Ron scrambled away as someone who was obviously a girl dropped by the fire, wearing a wide cloak and the hood pulled tight over her head. Dark ringlets spilled out from the hood.

"Genevieve," Draco greeted her. "How have you been?"

"Better than you," the succubus sniffed. "You all smell like dirt. And mud. And nasty things, ugh, who's been eating berries? I hate them. And Draco—" here she leaned closer, opening her mouth to expose the fangs that were identical to Draco's in order to inhale deeply. "—you smell like blood. Intriguing."

"You have news?" the blond said, ignoring the comment.

Genevieve sat back on her haunches. "For a price. I want a kiss, Draco. The boy I'm staying with is no fun, he's such a prude."

"Boy?"

Genevieve turned to eye Hermione, who had spoken. The dark-haired girl flashed a wide smile and stood. "My, my, this must be Hermione Granger." She looked around the fire, glancing back and forth between the people there and naming them. "Blaise Zabini, quite fit looking…Pansy Parkinson. Interesting, I heard your boyfriend died?"

Pansy growled, but it softened as Blaise gripped her wrist to quell her whilst Genevieve tutted.

"Such terrible manners. Let me see…Ginny Weasley, I heard you were quite interested in my friend before you left; moving on quite quickly, aren't you? And lastly—ah, Ronald Weasley."

Her eyes lingered on Ron for a moment longer than they needed to, and the redhead stood nervously and stiffly, letting his eyes drop. Genevieve was still staring icily at him before Draco called her attention back to him.

"News, Genevieve? And no kisses, you know it's impossible."

"Then I should want a kiss from him," she said, pointing at Ron. Hermione bristled slightly, but then dampened her anger. She was still mad at Ron anyhow, right?

Draco glanced at Ron. The elder Weasley looked nervously at Hermione, and when she gazed coolly back, his resolve hardened. Ron clenched his fists in his hand and nodded. "Sure. But the information comes first."

"Very well." Genevieve waved a hand airily, and those around her watched with barely concealed amazement as a tree seemed to sprout from the ground, forming a gnarled chair into which Genevieve immediately plopped down.

"His name, as you're apt to know, is Harry Potter. He is black-haired, green-eyed, I've stolen his glasses a few times but he has them now, I believe. I have been his playmate, along with a special friend, for the past two weeks."

"Special friend?" Pansy asked sharply.

Genevieve shrugged. "She doesn't like me very much. I'm going to let you guess who she is, since it won't matter if you know anyway." She leaned forward, eyes gleaming devilishly. "See, the thing is, Tynan let me play with her soul a little, but then I had to replace it. Her essence tasted quite good, let me tell you. Bellatrix seemed a little upset, but now that we've returned her soul Madame Lestrange is quite pleased with her."

"Luna," Ginny hissed. "What did you do to Luna?" Before anyone could stop her she had run forward, wand in hand, but she stopped just short of the chair. Genevieve had vanished.

"That wasn't very nice."

The succubus could be heard from above them, most likely in a treetop, and she sounded as though she were pouting. "I was going to tell you all about what Tynan did to Lucius and to young Harry. I expect you'll like the new one."

A moment later Blaise shivered. Pansy glanced over at him and then moved back when she saw Genevieve, stroking the boy's face with a hand and with her other arm wrapped around his waist.

"He's so different," Genevieve whispered silkily. "I like him much better this way. You know, he wasn't taken away from the castle. He left of his own accord. If you had asked the villagers, they wouldn't have told you, but many others saw him; racing here with such fury, burning with fever and crying, and still, he came to us."

She disappeared again, but this time she went straight to Ron and held his face between her hands. Her hood had fallen back, to reveal the glossy curls and the pale complexion that glowed in the firelight. Ron's eyes widened and he took a step back, face as pale as hers and a look of absolute fear reflected upon it.

"You've sent many people away from you several times, haven't you?" Genevieve murmured. She pressed her lips to his; smiling as he relaxed, and she draped her arms loosely around his neck.

Draco noticed the mist first, creeping around the hem of the succubus's robes, and he cried out to warn Ron but it was too late. The mist rose in tendrils, wrapping itself around the two lip-locked figures, until Ron broke away, gasping.

He glared fiercely at the girl in front of him, and then sought Hermione out with his eyes. She met them, looking frightened, and he tried to take a step forward, but the haze that was now erasing the existence of his legs stopped him. It spread quickly, and as it reached his torso, Ron struggled to speak.

"Vi—vi—cus," he said, and his eyes rolled in the back of his head. Genevieve turned her head and flashed an eerily cocky smile as she vanished, taking Ron with her.

Hermione fell to her knees.

"Oh God," she muttered. "Oh my God."

"What?" Draco demanded, spinning to face her. "What was that supposed to mean? Granger, if you know something—"

"It's—that spell that he used," Ginny interrupted. She seemed dazed. "On the girl in Knockturn Alley. Draco, where's Ron?" she sounded more like a little girl now than the older, more confident girl she usually was.

"Granger?" Draco said again. His eyes were glistening, although with what, it was impossible to tell.

Hermione started to cry. Ginny stared at her, and then wordlessly strode off into the trees. Draco raised his eyes to the heavens and then looked at Blaise and Pansy.

"Get Ginny, Blaise, make sure she doesn't get hurt. And Pansy, I need you to stay with Granger. I'm going to scout around and make sure nothing goes wrong. Find some shelter if you can."

The two silently obeyed him, used to his take-charge manner in such situations. Draco closed his eyes. This couldn't get any worse.

And, just as he finished the thought, there was a clap of thunder. The rain started softly at first, pelting only the overhead canopy, but it quickly erupted into a full on shower. In a few seconds, he was drenched.

Draco Malfoy lost all faith in the world.


When Ron woke up, he was sitting up stiffly in a chair. Automatically, he reached up to flick his bangs back, but found he couldn't. He glanced down and saw that his arms and legs were bound to the chair by silvery chains. His clothes, he realized, had also been changed into the old-fashioned high-necked robes that most pureblooded families chose to wear.

He kicked out, attempting to get free, but was stopped quickly by a pale, slim hand that was laid on his lap. He followed the hand to its owner, and found himself staring into the onyx eyes of Bellatrix Black. She smiled at him when he flinched, and the crimson lipstick she wore starkly against her pale face twitched along with her lips. Ron didn't let the fact that she was wearing a very formal red ball gown escape him, and neither did the sudden silence.

He looked up and recognized that he was a large, ornate ballroom with gold plastered along the ceilings and chairs. Dozens of people were standing still, all dressed impeccably, and every one of them was staring at the winding staircase.

Ron found his gaze being drawn up there as well. His eyes widened as he saw what it was that had captured the attention of everyone in the room, and a bead of sweat trickled down his side.

Harry was walking down the stairs.

He was wearing an unbelievably traditional pureblood outfit; the only slightly loose pants, just under the knee boots, black vest and tunic and dark black cape. His glasses were gone, but Ron couldn't have cared less. Harry's eyes, which before had been so full of warmth, were now icy emerald chips, and his messy hair had been somewhat tamed.

He held out one arm, and Genevieve stepped out from behind the archway behind the staircase. She was decked out brilliantly, matching Harry's newfound darkness totally. Her dark, forest green corseted dress flared slightly as it went on, and it set off her pale skin. Her dark hair was piled in a messy updo atop her head, and she had kohl around her eyes.

Harry held out his other arm, and this time Ron's jaw fell open.

Luna Lovegood stepped out, wearing a duplicate of Genevieve's dress, only in a red that complimented Bellatrix's own. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, leaving curls and tendrils to fall from the net holding the bun in place, and black roses clung to each strand. She, too, wore kohl, and the same devious smile.

"Death Eaters," a voice said, and Tynan Malfoy moved forward from the balcony next to the stairs, "let us welcome the heir to the throne of the Dark Lord, Harry Potter!" Her dress was even more elaborate than either of the girl's, black and slim and with a loose cloak around it. Her hair was loose and flowing, curled into golden ringlets, and she was still easily the most beautiful woman in the room.

Tynan made a discreet motion, and Lucius Malfoy stood up from his seat next to her. He walked over to Harry, reverentially carrying an ebony box in front of him. He held it out in front of him, and opened the lid.

Harry lowered his arms, and reached into the box. He removed from it a circlet made of pure silver, and with rubies set into it. Genevieve kneeled next to him, and he placed it on her head. He repeated the process with Luna, but this time he drew a golden circlet inlaid with sapphires to crown her with.

Harry was the last to kneel, and Tynan herself moved forward to the box. "Harry Potter," she proclaimed, voice ringing out across the assembled peoples. "You are my dark princeling. I will treat you as though you were my own child, and these girls as though they were my own daughters. They whom you have chosen as co-rulers when you should reach power, who shall love you eternally, and unconditionally. Even if their love should falter, their loyalty shall never waver, lest they face a sure death. Do you agree?"

"I do," Harry said quietly, and his voice sounded much more cold and clipped than it had ever. "I accept these terms and all responsibilities, and in verity approach them gladly."

From the box came another circlet, the final one. This one was nothing but clear emerald, lined with gold and silver bands on the outside. It slid onto Harry's head, fitting perfectly, and some of his hair fell over it, effectively making him seem radiant.

The three circlets glowed brightly, and the teens themselves narrowed their eyes as the magic took effect. For another moment, all was quiet, and then the cheering started. Wild, raucous music began, and Ron withdrew into the chair as best as he could.

This was Knockturn Alley all over again. Harry was standing, and taking Genevieve's hand as he led her down the stairs to dance. Luna followed, eyes flicking across the people there before she solemnly accepted Lucius's hand.

The dance itself was a wild, spinning frenzy. Everyone seemed to melt away, though, and Ron watched in horror as Harry took Genevieve's hand, wrapping the other around her waist.

They moved quickly, setting the speed for others to follow, and soon both of the them were spinning; moving away from each other only to come back quickly, as though they couldn't stand the separation. Genevieve was laughing. This was her element, this passion that made everyone move, and suddenly Harry was smiling too, but it was a dark, wicked curve of the lips more than anything.

He dipped Genevieve and said something. She replied, still smiling, and as he stood, the both of them bowed and stepped away from each other. Genevieve fell into the arms of Antonin Dolohov, one of the only people permitted to touch the young princeling's 'wives'.

Ron looked up and locked eyes with Harry, who was now standing over him.

"Welcome to my kingdom," he said maliciously. "How do you like it now, Ronald? Doesn't betrayal taste so bitter? From my side, it's oddly sweet."

"Did you leave on your own?" Ron asked, forcing himself to not to cry, or worse, throw up.

"That," Harry said, waving a finger in front of his former best friend's face, "is a question for later. On my true crowning day I shall answer that."

"True crowning day?"

"My birthday," Harry said, voice suddenly becoming frigid. "July 31st. I lose all my memories of you and those disgusting Muggles, and I get to choose if I will go on living with Mother or leave her side. Not a hard choice, really."

"Mother?" Ron said angrily. "Is that what you call her now? You're disgusting, Harry. I thought you were better than that, I thought—"

And suddenly Ron was staring at Bellatrix, whose eyes seemed to have sunken even further into her face. The stinging on the side of his face was painful, and he turned back to look at Harry, feeling the sting go down to a throb.

"You think too much," Harry told him, walked away.

Ron blinked.


Albus Dumbledore steepled his fingers and sighed wearily.

Overnight, six of his students had managed to disappear. Actually, it had taken them three days to figure it out. The Headmaster cursed the faulty schedules that had been set up because of the evacuations.

Carina Zabini had successfully managed to forge signatures so as to make them think each teacher had a reason to keep the children away from classes. Dumbledore himself had assigned her three-month's worth of detention, which she had accepted almost gleefully, considering the fact that she would have Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom joining her.

Dumbledore found himself grasping at loose ends. None of the children would tell him anything, but one thing was obvious; they were going after Harry.

Even less obvious but still there was that they had not been told any details. Draco had planned everything impossibly well, maybe too much so. Dumbledore glanced down at the letter that lay unopened on his desk.

It was blue, and carried all the charms one would find on a Howler, with the exception of one thing; it was visual. He had already presented it to the staff and Aurors who came to visit, and was due to Floo over to the Ministry of Magic and hand it over as evidence in a few moments.

Dumbledore tapped the edge of the letter, deciding to check it out one more time. Maybe he would see something different, this time. Hopefully.

Instead, what he saw was the same as the last seven; there was Harry, dressed in traditionally pureblood and royal robes, seated on a throne. His throne room was equivalent to what one would see in a fairy tale gone wrong; demons and creatures of all natures dancing and screeching raucously, spinning between tables laden with drink and wine that seemed abundant, and everything was dark.

Sounds could be heard as well, some entrancing, some less so. Someone screamed and Harry glanced over disinterestedly, merely blinking as two shrouded figures dragged away one of the more effeminate demons to one of the connecting doors.

On either side of the large throne gilded in sparkling gold was a smaller throne. On Harry's left was one that stretched out like a loveseat. A girl with flowing ringlets of black hair was sprawled on it, wearing a flowing dress that seemed to have no end and no beginning. She smiled winningly at Harry, who grinned back indulgently.

Dumbledore frowned. The girl was familiar, but she was not a student, he knew. As well as the fact that no student of his (excluding Mr. Malfoy and any temporary ones) that he knew of had fangs.

But there was the matter of Luna Lovegood, seated so solemnly on Harry's other side, lying on the same type of throne, but while the girl on the other side simply exuded excitement, Luna seemed more inclined to let one arm dangle off the edge of the throne and trace patterns in the stone ground.

"Meet your new enemy, Albus Dumbledore."

It was unmistakably Tynan Malfoy's voice, but she never appeared in the view of whatever it was that was recording these events.

Harry looked up, spotted Tynan, and smirked. It was something that was so unlike him it seemed artificial. He stood from his throne, long cape falling from the top of the throne to behind him as he strode arrogantly through the crowd. Both of the girls behind him looked up, and while the unknown girl let her head rest so as to talk to a demon approaching her soon after, Luna kept staring.

"Mother?" Harry said, and Dumbledore flinched. She really had changed him. The letter went dark and, in customary Howler manner, blew a raspberry at him before folding itself up and smoldering. Dumbledore performed the counter-charm to keep it from exploding, and then sighed again.

Oh, yes. This was a very grave matter indeed.


Gah, gah.

I'm very much tired. I feel like a catnap again. Only...it's late and I should be asleep now. Instead...I am watching Naruto.

From episode 72 to 99 in one day. Sad thing is, I do not love Naruto like I loved Fruits Basket or Full Metal Alchemist. I think I watch it for the obvious attraction between Sasuke and Naruto...yes...very obvious...(evil snickers all around).

Anyways, I think I'm mentioning it now only because I'd like everyone to marvel along with me as I examine how well along my obsession with anime has progressed if I am willing to stare at the computer screen for hours on end .

Worry for me, luvvies.