Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.
"blah": dialogue
'blah': thoughts
"blah" : Parseltongue
"blah": Legilimency/Telepathy
Italics: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form
Bold: a word or phrase that is emphasized
Italics, Underlined, and Bold: location/date of a scene in the story
Chapter Twenty-Seven: No Rest for the Wicked
Unknown, The Basement Corridor: October 29th, 1996
Bellatrix quietly crept down the hallway, praying that the Invisibility and Silencing spells laid on her would be enough to conceal her presence. Her boots were soundless on the stone floor as she stepped around a hidden, but still obvious to her, Tracker. Not wanting whoever had placed it to be notified of her presence. Further down the hallway, she sidestepped another, more cleverly concealed one. It would take more than a few Concealment, Chameleon, and Invisibility charms to fool her.
After all, she was a Black. And nobody knew more about keeping things hidden than her family, especially the things that they didn't want found. And just like her Cousin Sirius, she was excellent at the inverse, at discovering what others wanted unnoticed or forgotten.
Allowing herself a small smirk of satisfaction, Bella silently levitated herself over a low to the ground Proximity ward. It was quite clever of Dolohov to have that one so close to the floor, right where most people would never think to look. It was barely a foot high, and she could have easily stepped over it. Yet, she didn't want to take the chance of accidentally hitting it with her foot.
Landing lightly, she continued down the corridor dodging a few more carefully concealed wards and an assortment of spells. What she wouldn't give to be able to simply take a Portkey or Apparate to her location, but she couldn't do that due to the Dark Lord's warding.
Of course, Fawkes probably could have helped her, but the wards in this part of the manor were the absolute strongest, capable of tracking anyone who passed through and registering their magical signature. They simply couldn't take the risk that the phoenix would be detected. A stray Death Eater could be explained away, but a powerful being of pure magic could not.
The witch notice a doorway just ahead, and she slowed her already creeping pace. She cautiously approached, levitating herself over another low ward, and stepped to the side of it. Out of the line of fire as it were. It had taken her weeks and a good deal of help from Fawkes to puzzle out the location. And now, she was here.
It was a bit anticlimactic really.
She had expected more than a single debilitated door, one which hung limply, looking more like a raggedy doll than something meant to keep people out. In fact, it seemed as though the blasted thing would fall off its hinges at any moment.
But appearances were often deceiving. For all she knew, the door might have been strong enough to withstand dragonfire.
Silently berating herself for allowing her mind to wander, she squared her shoulders. Bella scanned the entrance with her wand, seeing that it remained unspelled; its appearance wasn't even due to an illusion. Dolohov had probably figured that by this point and after going through his gauntlet, only authorized people would be here. Nevertheless, he could have at least put some effort into protecting the room beyond.
But his loss was her gain, and he was only making her job easier.
She double and triple-checked the door, ensuring that her initial assent of it was accurate. With a flick, it opened silently, swinging forward to inaudibly hit the wall on the other side from her. She waited a few heartbeats just to make sure nothing came flying out before she stuck her wand around the edge and cast a relatively harmless Scanning charm.
Nothing was inside. Nothing alive at least.
Bella stilled as she watched the number on the spell continue to rise as the Scanner went deeper into the room, dispelling it before it was even finished. Bile rising in her throat, she cast a spell for light and entered. She halted just inside the entrance, too stunned to move forward, though she did have enough sense to close the door behind her.
They were… just standing there, sightless eyes simply staring at her. They were in rows, mutely standing and awaiting instruction, not moving until they received it.
Swallowing her revulsion, she silent darted to one several rows deep. Dolohov would be less likely to check the spells on any but the ones in the very front, secure in the knowledge that his magic would hold and that no one could possibly tamper with it. Bellatrix approached cautiously, carefully not looking up into the ashen face. The witch softly murmured in an ancient and almost forgotten language, passing her wand over the thing in front of her. It began to glow slightly, the magic inherent in it rearranging itself to suit her will.
A moment passed, and she stopped whispering. The glow lingered for an instant longer before fading into nothingness. The woman nodded to herself and moved to the next one, only to repeat the process.
Sometime later, Bella refused to take a break, even with sweat dotting at her brow. She was just now reaching the end of the row, and they extended both in front of her and behind her farther than her eye could see in the darkened chamber. She had hoped to have longer to hinder the spells on them, but she had less than a day now. With that little time, only a fraction could be disabled, not that Dolohov would even be able to tell by the time she was finished.
Bellatrix Black was a master at hiding things, and her magic would go undetected until it was far too late. And with just a flick of her wand, these monstrosities would be down for the count, completely left out of the battle. She would just have to wait for the right opportunity and not do it too soon.
The witch repressed the urge to place her hand on her heavily protected and enspelled belly, pausing momentarily in her casting.
It wouldn't do for her to get caught helping the students; she had more than herself to think of now, but she would do all that she could. After all, she owed it to Sirius.
She owed it to Harry.
Her resolve even more affirmed, Bellatrix return to her casting. There was so little time and so very much to do.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Trelawney's Tower, The Balcony: October 30th, 1996
Draco gazed out over the distance, watching as the sun sunk slowly in the sky. A faint breeze tugged at his hair as he put his elbows on the railing, resting his head on his hands. He noticed several students laughingly stroll into the castle, watching as two girls teased their friend. He turned his head to the side and noted Hagrid walk over to his hut, turning in for the night. He glanced back and saw the giant squid splash in the water, silently wondering if the school's guardian would have a role to play tomorrow.
He shivered; he wondered what roles all of them would play. Would things go as they planned, as they hoped? Would they successfully defend the school, their home? Would the students be harmed? Would they even survive? Would it all come crashing down around their ears?
The Prefect exhaled slowly at the thought, his worry building. He shook his head to dissolve his thoughts.
They refused to leave.
Things had been going so well until this point, and he couldn't understand why he would pick this moment of all others to fall apart. Dumbledore and the rest of the Order knew of the attack and had made preparations. Though the headmaster was now watching his Defense teacher like hawk. That is, if a hawk could grin jovially with a twinkle in his eye and make it seem like he wasn't really looking at all.
The Founders had double and triple-checked the defenses of the castle, making sure all the suits of armor, ghosts, and portraits knew what they were supposed to do. The wards were sound and would give them ample warning. The castle was positively buzzing with tension, as wide-awake and aware as she could possibly be.
They were ready. As ready as they could ever be.
Weasleby was even now recovering, the glazed look in his eyes disappearing slowly.
"Not that it would ever go away entirely," Draco mumbled to himself with a faint snort.
Ron's parents, brother, and sister were so relieved it was almost palpable. Molly was practically glowing with happiness, and Arthur and Bill both seemed like a heavy weight had been lifted. Ginny, who had been acting rather snarky lately, had actually been seen smiling… really smiling during one of the Founders' little get-togethers. It was a rather nice improvement over the usual glare she wore during those, the expression mostly directed at Dominic.
A slight shiver went up Draco's spine at the thought of the vampire, and he hastily diverted his mind to other things.
Neville was doing brilliantly in class now. He past memories bringing him up to a level of confidence that even the Department of Mysteries hadn't been able to do. The bloody fiasco and his new wand had done wonders for him. Neville did have to be rather careful of the sheer amount of easily accessible magic he now had though. Nevertheless, he was doing an admirable job, aided and abetted by Minerva and Severus, of all people.
He was even talking to Draco now, being rather amiable and forgiving the Slytherin for things he hadn't even apologized for. Harry and Luna actually spoke to him, too, but he didn't really get to see much of them due to their schedules.
Things were simply going wonderfully for the blond. He had become even closer to Severus in the past month, spending an enormous amount of his free time with the man. Most of it was going over plans and checking over Hogwarts, but they were still together. Plus, he was on friendly speaking terms with both Minerva and Hermione now, too. The Transfiguration professor no longer scowled at him in class. Not that she had really done much of that this year, though she had given him some rather odd and searching glances.
As for Hermione… well, the part of his free time that wasn't taken up with the other Slytherins, the other Founders, and the DA was now spent with her in one of the hidden rooms of the castle. One with a lot of books and a very handy potions lab.
It was strange being with his sibling again after sixteen years of not having one. But he was adjusting, and he found that he actually liked trying to reconcile her with his present. It was nice to have someone to connect with.
He had had a lonely childhood this time around, his birth parents always far too busy to spend time with him and with only the house-elves to keep him company in the big, lonely manor. There had been almost a complete lack of human contact outside of sporadic visits from other, proper magical children and the odd times his parents spent with him, which had mostly been going to social functions. It wasn't until the year before he went to Hogwarts that he'd actually begun to make friends, and that was only after his mother had started bringing over more children to visit. Draco had a sneaking suspicion that his old minder, Dobby, had something to do with it, too.
Now, he not only had friends and comrades, he had a sister. One who actually seemed to like him.
All things considered, his life was going pretty well. So what could possibly be bothering him?
He rubbed his hand over his face tiredly, fighting the urge to nimble on his nails. It was a nasty habit, and one he had thought he had grown out of in both of his lifetimes. Still, it was something that often made an appearance when he was nervous or jittery.
His fingers tried to drift to his mouth again, and the Prefect all but slammed it down on the stone railing, gritting his teeth at the impact. He quietly shook his hand, trying to make the pain go away.
What by Circe was his problem?
Maybe it was because this was it. Their moment was approaching on phoenix wings. By this time tomorrow, the battle would be upon them. It would be here, at their front gate.
And Draco had this sinking feeling that they weren't ready, that they were going to lose… and lose badly. They hadn't had enough time. They needed longer.
They had only remembered a month ago. A month was not long enough to adjust, to cope, to reconcile their pasts with their present. It wasn't long enough for him to even wrap his mind around how his world had changed, how fundamentally bollocksed up his life currently was. It wasn't long enough for anything, much less enough to use their memories and come up with a way to save not only the school but the Ministry. And hell, the entire bloody wizarding world!
But it would have to be. They were out of time.
Draco fought the urge to pound his fist on the stone railing again. Knowing that a broken hand was the thing he needed the least right now, even if the nurse could fix it in a flash. Besides, he didn't want to explain how it had happened. Pomfrey was a stickler for things like that. Further, he knew Sybill was there at the moment, talking with her friend.
Who would have thought the no-nonsense nurse and the flighty Divination professor shared a mutual admiration for, of all things, Goblin checkers? Or that they had built a very solid, albeit very bizarre, friendship around it?
The Slytherin grimaced and turned his attention back to the brilliantly colored sky. It truly was a breathtaking view, even after all these years. He idly wished Hermione was there with him; Rhayne always did love the sunset.
However, she was probably off with Bill somewhere. Enjoying the calm before the storm or the last step before the plunge. Or whatever strange metaphor she was thinking of at the moment. That girl did think of rather odd things. It was Aunt Siobhan and Aunt Fiona's influence, he just knew it. They had been her favorite relatives.
Draco began to wonder where everyone else was.
Arthur and Molly were undoubtedly together, probably at their house, the Bungalow. Or was it Burrow? Harry and Luna were undoubtedly in the Room of Requirement, and he didn't even want to think about what they were doing. Severus was definitely with Minerva. Neville was in the Sorting Hat's room, and Draco had no idea where Ginny and Dominic were.
At the thought of the Defense teacher, the Slytherin stiffened.
It was silly. He shouldn't have such a reaction to a simple sentence. He shouldn't still be pondering it, trying to puzzle out what the man had actually meant. Still, even weeks later, the vampire's cutting words still haunted him.
"And maybe that will be enough to save you."
Would it? Would anything they'd done be enough to save him? Would it be enough to save everyone else, those he cared about?
The other Slytherins? His friends? Severus? Hermione?
As if conjured by the thought, the Prefect heard the sound of footsteps and the rustle of robes behind him. There was a cough, as if someone was trying to get his attention. Nevertheless, he simply continued to watch the lake, smiling gently.
He didn't even need to turn around; he already knew who it was.
"I knew I'd find you here," Hermione stated somewhat smugly as she came up beside him. "You always did love this place the first time around, even if Aunt Helga constantly scolded you for sitting on the railing.
Draco smirked. "And as you can see, I finally got the message." He gestured with his head. "I'm not sitting on it." He nonchalantly leaned even further forward, almost hanging half-off.
She eyed him skeptically. "True. It's an improvement, but it certainly took you long enough. And even now, you risk falling off."
"I'm slowly weaning myself," he replied flippantly. "Small and slow steps, sister dear." The Slytherin briefly and silently thanked Sybill for letting him relax on the hidden balcony of her tower. At least here, his sister and he could talk and find solace from prying eyes.
She sniffed. "If you were any slower, you'd be going backwards."
Draco smirked but didn't respond to the jibe, and the pair lapsed into silence. The bushy-haired witch watched him out of the corner of her eye. But she remained quiet, not saying anything at all and simply fingering her phoenix pendant. Draco knew something was bothering her, but he was going to give her time to get around to it on her own. Yet, he wasn't going to give her too long. He had someone he needed to see before the day slipped by completely.
More moments passed. Hermione continued to look at him, but this time, her eyes flickered between the lake and him. The blond surreptitiously looked at his watch and frowned. He was almost to the point of asking her to get on with it when she finally spoke.
"So you're really going to fight tomorrow, Draco?" the witch asked, her gaze drifting from the grounds to him. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the sun sinking over the water in the distance.
He nodded fiercely, leaning against the railing. "I'm going to fight for my family."
A warmth filled her at his declaration. "Your family?" She watched at him for a moment before finally voicing the thought that she had wanted to say all along, "What about Narcissa and Lucius? We know that your mother at least will be among the Death Eaters sent."
Draco avoided her eye, watching as the sun disappeared beyond the lake. "I'll still fight; that won't stop me." He laughed then, and it was a bitter sound. "I fear that they are lost to me, if I ever had them at all," he whispered more to himself than to her. He wrapped his cloak further around him at the sudden chill in the air.
Hermione was taken aback. She had always thought the Malfoys a close clan.
"But they love you, Draco. At least, they did. I'm not sure about now…" she trailed off and shook her head. "Regardless, they at least felt something for you. Don't you remember? They would always spoil you, buy you anything you wanted. They love you so very much. Perhaps too much," she allowed, trying to make a joke of it, but it fell flat.
"And that is where you are wrong, sister." He deliberately named their connection and leaned closer to her. "That is where you are so very wrong." Draco sighed then, running a hand through his hair. "They didn't love me too much. They never loved me enough."
Hermione blinked but remained silent.
"That's the problem." He turned towards her. "Why else do you think they spoiled me? They felt guilty. They felt guilty for not caring deeply enough about me. They were trying to make it up to me." He trembled with suppressed emotion, a lifetime's worth of bitterness rising up in him.
Her eyes widened a fraction. She opened her mouth to speak but quickly shut it. There wasn't anything she could really say to that. He had said nothing but the truth.
Draco inhaled slowly, glancing away. "Severus has always been far more of a father than Lucius ever was," he murmured and closed his eyes.
Hermione instinctively reached over to take his hand, and he didn't pull away.
"That's including the distance he had to keep to protect his other Slytherins," the blond continued, noticing that the stars were slowly appearing in the sky. "He always supported me, protected me. Even from myself."
Her fingers squeezed his.
"And Minerva… We aren't close, but there is still a connection, one that is growing and that I am determined to strengthen." Draco gave a little, bitter smile. "Even factoring in the last few years, she's already been better to me than Narcissa."
Hermione didn't know what to say. She really hadn't expected that answer.
"I… I'm sorry."
He gave an elegant shake of his head. "Don't be. It's not like it is your fault. We just have to make the most of the cards we are dealt, and it's as though I suffered too much for it," the Slytherin added softly. "Parents who don't care enough are better than not having any at all." Draco stood up straight.
Hermione turned away. "I wouldn't be so sure," she replied, her face unreadable.
However, Draco didn't hear her. He had moved away from the railing and was using the faint light coming from the door to look at his watch. Why he didn't simply use his wand was beyond her.
The blond nodded absentmindedly to himself before turning around. "Come on, let's go," he said and held his hand out to her. "You need to spend some time with Bill."
She shivered due to the cool evening breeze. "What about you? I am not just going to leave you alone, not tonight."
He raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you think I would be?" The Slytherin chuckled at her disbelieving look. "I won't be alone." Draco paused, gaze shifting away from hers. "I have somewhere to be." He led her to the door. "Somewhere important."
Hogwarts, Various Locations: The Same Day
Dumbledore quietly sat in his office at his desk with his heads in his hands. Fawkes was perched directly in front of him, cooing softly and rubbing his finely plumed head on Albus' cheek. The various instruments in the room buzz, squeaked, or hummed without notice. The portraits of the old headmasters and mistresses were either snoring or talking quietly amongst themselves, shooting occasional worried looks at their living counterpart.
After a few moments, the phoenix began to sing, his voice rising into a crescendo. The elderly man let out a sigh of relief but did not lift his head. Instead, he merely closed his eyes, breathing easier than a moment before. Albus finally rose but not before gently caressing the phoenix and giving a whispered thanks. He drifted to a side door, intent on his bedroom and resting his tired body. The old man's mind was blessedly blank as he changed and pulled back the covers. However, as he lay in bed, his mind was filled with random but not so troubling thoughts.
Just as sleep claimed him, he briefly wondered what the others were doing with their last moments together.
On the third floor, Tonks sat quietly on the edge of Dom's desk, her eyes flickering speculatively to the cards in front of her. She looked first at one card and then another, thinking it over. The cards, in turn, stared straight back at her. One was grinning serenely, occasionally patting down her reddish-brown braid. The other simply scowled, arms crossed over his chest defensively. Had his foot been visible, the Auror would have seen it being tapped impatiently.
Across from her, the Defence professor was studying each of his cards in turn. He rubbed his hand over his chin as he picked one out. Dominic looked at her, eyes roving over her appreciatively, and smiled wickedly before putting his card on the desk. It featured a short mage in blue, whose face was completely obscured by a combination of his pointed hat and high collar.
Tonks frowned at it and surveyed her cards again.
The grumpy one finally had enough. "Get one with it, woman," he demanded, shaking his fist at her. "Honestly, we don't have all day."
The Auror shot him a glare, and he quieted. Dom simply chuckled to himself, and her frown deepened. However, the irate card had apparently gotten his point across, for she finally selected him and laid him down on the table.
"How about a Moebius Nigellus for your Vivi Ornitier?" she asked and tucked a stray strand of violent, violet hair behind her ear. She inclined her head to Dom's Chocolate Frog Card.
He seemed to be thinking about it. "Done."
The vampire reached forward for his new acquisition, fingers brushing and lingering on hers as she did the same. Their hands halted, and they paused before smiling at each other and continuing on their way.
He pocketed his disgruntled card, which hissed at him menacingly. Dom selected another, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
"Dalamar Nightson for your Aeris Gainsborough?"
Just a floor below, Severus and Minerva were curled up on her sofa. He was situated in the corner with one arm propped up on the arm. Her head was on his shoulder, and his arms circled her as he casually held up the book they were reading together.
They sat in complete silence, simply enjoying each other's company. And the only sounds that interrupted their peace were the crackling of the fire and the occasional soft, swish of paper as he turned the page.
No words were need. The silence and their comfort with each other spoke loudly enough.
In the Gryffindor Common Room, the two youngest Weasleys scowled at each other from across the chessboard. Ron stuck his tongue between his teeth, lost in thought. His gaze darted across the board, and he combed a nervous hand through his hair. After a minute, he nudged his remaining knight with his forefinger. The piece automatically moved to the place he had in mind without further prompting.
"Checkmate!" he exclaimed proudly, beaming at his opponent.
Ginny practically snarled at him and placed her hands on her hips. "It's not checkmate," she stated sternly, but the playful glint in her eyes belied her fierce tone. We're playing by Goblin rules. Only bishops and queens can checkmate."
Ron's eyes narrowed. "We are not. You never said that." He gestured to the board. "So therefore, I win." He again smiled.
His sister shook her finger at him. "You're trying to cheat. It won't work. We agreed on Goblin rules." Her voice rose.
"I am not cheating!" the older redhead defended himself stridently. "We never agreed on that."
"Did, too. You're just pretending to have forgotten," she accused, her voice becoming louder. "It isn't a valid move."
"Is, too."
"Is not."
"Is, too."
From the sidelines, Athena merely laughed to herself as the pair argued over the validity of the last move. There had been some tension over the last few months between them, and they had both been acting rather strangely. It was good to see them back to their old selves, even if they were rather loud.
Another Weasley, a slightly older one, sat in a different room of Hogwarts Castle. Bill flipped the page in his book, scanning it quickly before flipping again. He chewed on his lip, becoming more and more put out as he went. The curse-beaker had been searching for hours now and still hadn't found anything. Initially, his hopes about a counter for the Killing curse had been so hopeful, but he hadn't found any new information for weeks. Not even Hogwarts' various libraries, both for student use and otherwise, seemed to hold anything useful.
Giving a disgruntled sigh, he closed the book and set it down with a muffled thump. The redhead briefly eyed the stack of other ones that were lying in front of them. He was rather reluctant to take another, but he did after a few seconds. Bill had just begun to read when something odd occurred to him; he hadn't heard Hermione make a peep for awhile now. He glanced over to the side, and what he saw made him chuckle silently.
The curse-breaker leaned forward to brush her hair from her face, which was partially lying on her opened book. He smoothed back a stray strand from her normally bright eyes, which were currently closed. She sniffed when he brushed her nose accidentally, but her breathing remained soft and constant. She didn't even stir when he pressed a kiss to first her forehead and then her lips.
Hermione was too deep asleep to even notice what he was doing.
In the Sorting Hat's room, Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom sat quietly. Each one was lost in thought.
"I'm sorry, you know," the blond said at last, breaking the silence that had lingered between them for countless minutes.
Neville seemed confused. "For what?" He inclined his head to listen better.
The Prefect shifted in his seat. "For being a complete git for the last six years and for all those things I said. Especially about your parents." He purposely looked Neville in the eye as he spoke.
"Oh, that." The Gryffindor eyed him, his round face completely neutral. "I forgave you awhile ago. After we had our memories back." He added so softly that Draco didn't hear, "Maybe even before then."
"I had guessed, but I still needed to say it," Draco asserted hesitantly, daring to look away from the other wizard. His attention drifted to the portrait on the far wall, who was listening in with a grin on his face.
"Okay, then," Neville added pleasantly. "It's good that we got that out of the way. We can now move onto more important things."
It was Draco's turn to be confused. "Like what?"
A grin tugged at Neville's lips. "Like what you think of the Harpies chances this year. Personally, I think they'll go all the way."
In the Room of Requirement, Harry and Luna were side by side on the magically induced meadow. Both were facing the sky, a carbon-copy of the one outside, the stars twinkling like mad above them. The wizard was lying down, his hands pillowing his head. His girlfriend, on the other hand, was sitting cross-legged and playing with the fireflies that buzzed around them.
"You know," Harry said as he closed his eyes, "if anyone were to walk in right now, they would get completely the wrong idea." He shifted his head to a more comfortable position so that it wouldn't make his arms fall asleep.
Luna commented, "I had thought of that, but I don't think it really matters. Hogwarts would warn us long before anyone showed up, not that she'd let them in." Her hands threaded through the soft grass.
"Unless it was one of the other Founders," the reborn Salazar countered, "and they'd still get the wrong idea." Harry rolled over and propped his head up on his fist.
"And what idea would that be, Mr. Potter?" she asked coyly, leaning down so that her face was inches from his.
He gave her a disbelieving look. "We're sitting in the middle of a magical meadow under the starlight. What do you think they'd believe?"
"That we were having a romantic rendezvous." She playfully tapped his nose.
"And are we?"
Luna snorted before leaning forward to kiss him.
Harry raised an eyebrow as they broke apart sometime later, his girlfriend now lying beside him with her head over his rapidly beating heart. "I guess we are."
Great Britain, Various Locations: October 31st, 1996
Situated between Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, there was a not-so-empty meadow, filled with not-quite-alive people. Only three of the dozens, possibly hundreds, could actually be counted among the living. But only one of them seemed truly bothered by this fact. And not for the reasons the others would imagine.
Bellatrix Black stifled the rising nausea in her belly as she attempted to recover from a combination of a Portkey and her current company. She trembled faintly, but neither Narcissa nor Dolohov noticed. The pair was too engrossed in making last minute checks.
There was a rush of magic. And another, far larger group of Death Eaters appeared, joining their comrades. Bellatrix lowered her wand, which she had raised as soon as she felt the air shift, and bid them to help Dolohov.
Apparently satisfied, the man gave the all clear several moments later. Bella squared herself internally and nodded, gesturing that he should go ahead. Without a backwards glance, Dolohov flicked his wand and magically ordered his abominations to follow.
The two women trailed after him, not daring to look over their shoulders, with the rest following behind. Narcissa firmly situated her mask on her face as she walked and spelled her hood to remain on her head, obscuring her golden-blonde hair. Her face became even more lifeless, cold eyes the only thing now visible. She looked just as dead as the monstrosities that were trailing behind them.
Bellatrix was forced to look away, securing her own mask. Her gaze didn't stray to her younger sister again. She had a fleeting thought of a girl with a beautiful smile and a musical laugh, who begged her sisters to come play with her. It was followed by another that featured the same small girl, creeping into the room of her older sibling in the dead of night, begging her to chase off the monsters under the bed.
Bella fiercely shook her head to dissolve the images. She didn't want to think of what her once bright and loving sister had been. Or what she had become. Narcissa was now more of a monster than the ones she had feared.
The three lead Death Eaters crested over the small hill they had been climbing, pausing at the top. The man shook with a mixture of nervous energy and bloody anticipation. He lifted his head defiantly before continuing forward. Narcissa merely looked on impassively, her body seemingly devoid of life. She followed in the Dolohov's wake. The last one shivered, lagging behind. She hesitantly pulled a pendant from her pocket and tapped it with her wand, lighting it up as she headed down the hill.
Behind her mask, Bella's eyes flickered from Dolohov to her sister to the castle that loomed in front of them. A deep sense of dread filled the pit of her stomach, and her skinned crawled at the approaching presence of Dolohov's creations. In the deep and hidden part of her heart, she dearly hoped that what she dreaded would not come to pass.
Elsewhere, Tom Riddle smiled to himself, eliciting a shudder from his surrounding subordinates. That particular smile always meant that someone was going to bleed, suffer, or die. Perhaps all three.
"Good, Rookwood. Now, take your team and go. You know what to do," the Dark Lord bid with a flick of his fingers, turning back to the not-so-intimidating doors in front of him.
His follower obeyed instantly and bowed lowly before hurrying away, his lackeys in tow.
The Dark Lord casually twirled his wand as he pulled out a pendant from one of his pockets. His remaining Death Eaters nervously twitched behind him as they waited for the signal, but he didn't seem to notice. A Ministry wizard, who was staring at some nameless report, walked by without even seeing the group of people standing in the shadows by the door. A few paper airplanes whizzed by, one nearly colliding with McNair's head. It was almost as if it hadn't even registered that he was there.
The pendant lit up brightly a few moments later, but Tom still didn't move. He simply continued to twirl his wand. In the distance, there was the sound of an alarm and the whispers of several dozen pairs of feet as they pounded across the floor. There was a flurry of activity. And a number of people rushed right by, once again not even noticing the cloaked Death Eaters, shrouded as they were by a myriad of spells.
The excitement finally faded away, and all was silent.
Finally, the Dark Lord stirred, pocketing the still shining pendant. He opened the door with a wave of his hand, and his servants followed him in. He sauntered down an empty corridor, his Death Eaters opening every door that they passed and glancing inside.
There was no one. No one at all. It was as if the entire department was empty, disserted.
Voldemort's smile widened.
Tracker: a passive enchantment used to keep track of who passes through a certain area and when. Mostly used to supplement other wards.
AN: I know that there was no Molly and Arthur section, but they weren't at Hogwarts. I just couldn't make the scene fit in with the rest of them. Also, the Sybill and Poppy scene didn't make the cut, but Draco mentioned that the two were probably visiting, read drinking.
And there was a minor attack of the fluff, but that couldn't be helped.
Things to think about: What exactly is going to attack the castle? I think you should have a pretty good idea by this point. What is going to happen in the next chapter? Who will win? Who will lose? Who will just die?
To everyone who reviewed: Thanks!
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Here, There be Monsters, Part One
Ever Hopeful,
Azar
Updated and Edited:
06/26/08
