LANCE

I circled my room, wanting to simply destroy everything in sight - rip the curtains down, shred the pillows, burn the furniture, anything. Cruel words replayed over and over in my mind, no matter how hard I tried to shut them out. No amount of cursing, concentration, pacing or snarling could free my mind from the Dark Lord's comments. My face heated at the thought of the meeting that had ended hardly an hour ago. Shame burned through my insides at the snippets of a high, cold voice chiding me like a small child in front of the most elite Death Eaters, who snickered and shook their heads. Wasn't I supposed to be the pride of the Malfoy family, the eldest son, the most powerful wizard of this generation?

"Then how," the Dark Lord asked, sneering at me, "did you allow yourself to be disarmed and bested by a girl who didn't even use her wand?"

I could sense Father staring intently at the table next to me, not daring to offer a word of comfort or aid. Across from me, Aunt Bellatrix refused to meet my eye; I had completely dishonored the family.

"M-my Lord, I—"

"Speak like a man, not a whimpering child!"

My throat had gone incredibly dry. I swallowed before attempting to explain myself. "Potter caught me off-guard, My Lord," I said slowly, choosing my words as carefully as possible. "She… I was not expecting her to resort to such vile tactics as Muggle dueling." Somewhere along the table, I heard Dolohov snort, but I kept my gaze fixed at the Dark Lord, daring him to catch me in a lie. "It won't happen again, I can assure you, My Lord."

The Dark Lord's eyes swept briefly over the healing bruises on my face before he let out a short, mirthless laugh. "Perhaps you are just as useless as your father, boy, if you continue to fail at the mission I have set you."

No amount of self-restraint could prevent the flush on my cheeks as another round of snickers broke out around the table. I opened my mouth to defend myself, to reassure the Dark Lord that I could carry out his plans for me, that I was the most useful of my family, but the door at the far end of the chamber opened and two figures swept inside.

"Snape, Yaxley, you are very nearly late."

I kicked my dresser with enough force that it knocked over several of the objects on top of it and caused my toes to throb painfully, but I continued to pace in frustration. My desires had clouded my head, the fire of explosive emotions too fierce to quell. The incident in the Great Hall with Jennifer had been almost as shameful as being scolded about it. The Dark Lord had given me the task of getting Jennifer out of the way, and I had failed yet again. Though I knew that the Dark Lord wished for me to kill her, I had been working to simply remove her from the playing field. To have her all to myself. But she, for once, had the upper hand on me. I had never seen such intensity in her eyes, such fire, as the moment before she had been knocked off of me. She had been moments away from killing me. I was sure of it. I could never allow myself to be that vulnerable again. It was she who should be submitting to me, not the other way around. It was not destined that way.

My fingers were clenched so tight into fists that my hands began to go numb. It was very difficult to pin down what exact emotion was causing this pain. Rage? Desire? Shame? I didn't care, as long as it fueled me. She was the only one who had ever sparked this passion in me. She was meant to be with me. Only I could challenge her, fulfill her, perfect her. And only she could ever understand me, ever come close to being my equal. She had seen this in herself before. I must make her see it once again.

Soon. Soon, I would have her. I would need to clear my head, make better plans, and not let myself be distracted. I could not let my methods get swept away from me at the mere sight of her. She had a way of wiping my mind of all plans, and this encounter had been a result of my most irrational self.

I will have her. She will submit.

SARLANDA

"For the last time, it's too dangerous for you to come!"

"Like hell I'll just sit by while my brother's life is in danger!"

I sighed roughly, resisting the temptation to just hex Jennifer. "I've explained this a hundred times, you being there will defeat the purpose of the Polyjuice. The second they see you flying with any Harry, never mind the real one, they'll go straight for you—"

"Assuming that Voldemort has Death Eaters in place—" Jennifer asserted.

"Which he will," I said, raising my voice and reclaiming the conversation. "Whether it's three or thirty, they'll know immediately that you wouldn't be parted from Harry. It's too dangerous." She glared daggers at me, but I didn't relent. "And may I remind you that you yourself are being hunted. Your own life is in just as much danger."

"Turn me into Harry then, I can handle myself—"

"Oh, sure, just make yourself even more of a target—"

"Other people are, Fred and George are, why the bloody hell can't I?!"

"It's not that simple, Jennifer—"

"Then let me turn into someone else!" she yelled. "Turn me into Mundungus for all I care, but I am going to be a part of this mission!"

I took a very deep breath. She was absolutely too stubborn for her own good. And I couldn't just flat out say I was scared for her. Terrified. That she, or anyone else, would never come back from this, and that I didn't think I could handle it. I had to accept others participating, but I had tried to purposely protect her from this (or exclude her, as she claimed).

"Jennifer, there is a strong possibility that Lance will be there and I will not see you flung out for slaughter." I hated saying his name around her. True fear was not an emotion I saw on her face often, but Lance inspired it. I scrunched my face and looked away, feeling my eyes get hot. "Just… consider all the possibilities. Assume it's going to go terribly wrong. I would like to not be scraping your bloody corpse off the ground." We rarely fought, but she couldn't see anything beyond what was right in front of her.

Her face tightened at his name, but I could sense her resolve steel. "I know he'll be there. But I will never, ever abandon my brother." I caught a bit of a tremble in her voice, and my stomach churched with guilt. "I can never do that to him."

We stood in silence, measuring each other's will. "If you go," I finally said, drawing sharp breaths, "you will be disguised as someone other than Harry. And if Moody says no, then that's it. You'll be waiting for us at the Burrow."

I could tell she was considering what it would be like to cross Mad-Eye. She must have seriously considered it, because it took her a long time to nod curtly. "Fine," she said. "If Moody says no, then I'll be at the Burrow. Otherwise, I will be at Privet Drive tomorrow evening."

She turned to open the door. "Jennifer." Her shoulders tensed. "Don't forget your broom." I swear I heard her snort before the door snapped shut behind her. I let out a long, frustrated sigh. She was utterly impossible sometimes, but I realized this would be a fight I wasn't going to win. Maybe she would listen to Moody. I doubted it, but maybe. I had never truly understood Jennifer's lack of self-preservation, and I likely never would. For now, I would work doubly hard to make sure she lived. I refused the possibility of fighting this war without her by my side every inch of the way.

Number Four, Privet Drive looked even more unremarkable than I had ever imagined. In brief tales Jennifer used to tell, the place sounded much more menacing than boring. Though, the mundane Muggle world that surrounded this house was a prison of its own kind. The lack of magic was suffocating. Everything was incredibly precise about this house, from the even planting and pruning of the flowers to the immaculate fence and facade.

Mad Eye Moody made the place look even more Muggle, with his two differently sized eyes, tattered robes and missing chunks of flesh. I doubted anyone so eccentric had ever stepped foot on this doorstep, though he had some contenders. Hagrid could hardly squeeze through the door. Tonk's hair would have shocked any snippy, judgmental Muggle into a state. Mundungus was filthier than the dirt on the sidewalk. From the look on the faces of who I assumed were the Potter's aunt and uncle, they were both horrified and scared of the assembled crew. They had a small clutter of luggage in the front hall, and the cousin was up the stairs a little further, clearly trying to hide. I followed Moody and Kingsley into the sitting room, jiggling the vial of Polyjuice in my pocket.

It took a while for everyone to gather together in the room after Harry and Jennifer had sent their family off with Crawford and Diddle. Jennifer had a hand on Harry's shoulder, seemingly ready to pull him away at a moment's notice.

"Right, Potter, this is going to be fast and quiet. Don't know if Death Eaters will be waiting for us, but we have fed information about a false date. They think you're being moved in two weeks."

"And why aren't we just Apparating?" Harry asked.

"Still got the Trace on you, haven't you? We're going with methods the Ministry can't track," Moody said, pulling his flask out. "Good thing you're a fair flyer. Now, Jennifer, if you will."

"What—oi!" Harry gasped out as Jennifer yanked some strands of hair from his head and crossed to Moody. "What's going on?"

"I told you he wouldn't like it," Hermione chimed in.

"There's going to be several Potters so that the Death Eaters will be confused," Moody explained as Jennifer added the hairs to his flask. "We're all going to different destinations." She had a very faint scowl on her face, though she was clearly working to control her expression.

I pulled the vial out of my pocket and put it in Jennifer's hand. She hesitated before taking it, crossing back to Harry, who was absolutely fuming.

"Yer with me, Harry," Hagrid said in an attempt to calm him.

"Like hell you're disguising yourselves as me!"

"Well mate, none of us really want to be a scrawny, specky git, but here we are," Fred said, stepping up to Moody. Moody swirled the flask a few times, and Fred took the first drink. One by one, a third of the room drank down the potion, leaving Mundungus to reluctantly drain it. I gave Jennifer a stern look, and she sheepishly drank the potion I gave her. Before our eyes, my friends twitched and writhed and soon there were seven Harry Potter's standing in the room in a wild range of clothing. Moody tossed a bag on the ground and barked at them to all strip and get dressed quick. Kingsley watched the window, keeping close eyes on the sky. Jennifer had transformed last, and I was looking in a mirror image of myself wearing old jeans and a fading black shirt.

Once everyone was dressed, Moody ushered everyone out to get settled on their brooms and various forms of transit. There were far too many people here on this lawn, grouped into their trios of two guards and a Harry. Moody barked out, "There's the first signal, hurry it up!"

It dawned on me as I mounted my broom that I hadn't flown in ages. Hogwarts and Quidditch seemed a lifetime ago. I glanced to Lupin and (hopefully) George to the left of me. How long had it been since Lupin had flown? Was he any good? George would be the most at ease in the air. We were to head for my flat in Brixton, a quick jaunt by air. From there, we would take a Portkey to the Burrow. We would likely be back first.

"Takeoff!"

I kicked into the air and veered left, narrowly missing the Thestral holding Bill and Fleur to duck under and around them. Lupin, George and I rose together for maybe another fifty meters before a jet of green light flashed around us.

"Go! They're here," Lupin shouted and we rocketed away from the group. As we turned to angle northeast, I saw a streak of black cloud with a pale man at the center, wielding a wand that shot the Killing Curse from its tip. Voldemort was flying without the aid of a broom, and the next curse went streaking across the dark clouded sky straight for Mundungus and Moody. Ophilia had managed to peel away from them a bit, sending spells back towards them, but to no avail. At the last second, the disguised Mundungus disappeared from the back of Moody's broom, and the green light struck Moody square in the back. I heard screaming and thunder and the rippling of robes whipped by air as Voldemort turned from the plummeting body to pursue another group.

My heart thundered in my chest as a bolt of lightning charged the sky with menacing electricity. I had never seen Voldemort in person. Moody's body was crumpled on the ground somewhere in a Muggle neighborhood below. My mouth tasted dry, metallic, and a streak of purple right past my ear woke me from my stupor. Four black figures on brooms were on us now.

"Ophilia!" I screamed out, and she turned to join us, wand out and sending an expert Stunning Spell at the Death Eater whose wand was pointed straight at me. They toppled backwards and fell too, their broom rocketing off to the right.

"Got your back!" she yelled back, and together we flanked Lupin and George, who both shot spells off at the Death Eaters around them. Two were trying to take down George, and I gripped my broom with all my strength as I unleashed several curses. Lightning flashed around us, and rain started to lash our faces. My grip slipped, and I missed the Death Eater by inches and instead knocked the hood off of his face. Even at a distance, there was no mistaking the greasy black hair of Severus Snape. He ducked Ophilia's hex, and before I could blink, his wand had whipped through the air and there was a spray of blood.

George let out a howl and sagged on his broom, nearing knocking into Lupin. Around us, the other Death Eaters sent their own curses in, but Lupin managed to make a strong enough Shield Charm to deflect. Fingers numb, I shot spell after spell at Snape, urging my broom to go faster and catch up to George. The darkening sky hid all but basic forms now, and in another flash of lightning and spells colliding, I could see the dark liquid drenching his neck. Snape parried everything I sent at him, and I grabbed my broom with both hands again. If spells wouldn't work, then perhaps some Quidditch training would. I veered sharply as I lay flat on my broom and shot straight at him, feeling a spell skim right over my hair, the wind and rain plastering my clothes to my body. He glanced in time and shifted enough to avoid the worst of the impact, but I flew straight into his side. I heard a crunch in his side as my shoulder exploded with pain, and Snape nearly lost grip on his broom. As he rolled, a dark smoke swirled around him and he was gone in an instant.

I spun wildly for a moment before I could right my own broom and take off again after George, who was slowly descending. Ophilia and Lupin were now flanking him tight, Lupin maintaining focus on a shield while Ophilia tried to shoot the last two Death Eaters off their brooms. I couldn't see how bad George was, but he was still gripping his broom. Deep, measured breaths. Push the pain from my mind. I aimed and shot a spell at the Death Eater nearest Lupin.

'Incarcerous!' With a sharp flick of my wrist, chains exploded over their body and they dropped like a rock. Ophilia swerved, but the last curse caught her anyways, and blood sprayed from her wand arm. The final Death Eater raised their wand, and I threw a shield in between the two of them. The purple light reflected perfectly and blasted their broom, splintering the wood and sending them into a downward spiral.

I shot up to Ophilia, her robes bloodied and arm bleeding steadily. I waved my wand around her arm, and bandages wrapped themselves tight. "This way, we need to get low. I don't know if we've lost them entirely."

No one argued as we dove, keeping shallow enough so Lupin could still support George. His eyes were half closed, and the entire left side of his face was glistening with blood, the fake glasses he had been wearing earlier now gone. We descended out of the threat of the lightning, skimming closer to the lights of the city. We were unchallenged as I brought us closer and closer to my flat, and we landed a couple of alleys away from my building. The rain had completely drenched us. I quickly cast Dissillusionment charms on us all before quickly leading the way down the street and into the building. Luckily, few people were out in the storm, and soon I was ushering everyone in to my flat. Lupin was supporting George, whose head was lolling to the side.

"George, stay awake with me," I said. "Ophilia, grab the herbs from my kitchen, just the whole case."

"We have to get him to the Burrow," Lupin said. "Now."

"In a moment," I snapped back, conjuring bandages and trying to stem the bleeding. I hadn't seen something like this in a while. George moaned in pain, his eyes closed, face paler than a sheet. His entire left ear was gone, only some small bits of flesh remaining.

"Sarlanda!"

"I'm working on it!" I started muttering spells under my breath, but nothing was working. I couldn't remember the counter curse for Sectumsempra. Had I ever even learned it? There had to be one. Snape had healed Draco somehow last year when Harry had cursed him. Jennifer's face had been healed after Lance had used it on her. What was the counter curse?

"Sarlanda, we need to go!"

"Here!" Ophilia shoved the box into my hands, and I wrenched it open, digging through for anything that could help. I summoned Dittany, and I opened the salve and spread it on the wound. George cried out, but I kept going. Nothing. The flesh wouldn't close.

Lupin grabbed my arm. "We are leaving now. Bring your things." He dragged me to my feet and hauled George's arm over his shoulder. "Where's the Portkey?"

"Counter," I said, closing the box again. Ophilia was sniffling next to me. I helped Lupin with George, and we all hobbled to the kitchen together to grab the frying pan set aside on the counter. My mind raced, thinking through everything I had encountered in the past year. There had to be a way to heal this. This was my bloody specialty. If only I had the library at St. Mungo's—

"Now!"

We gripped the pan together and spun out of existence, squeezed between the fabric of space and time. We landed on marshy ground, George's knees buckling and nearly dragging Lupin and myself to the ground with him. I glanced over at him and even in the dim light emanating from the Burrow could see his bandage darkening. I tried and tried to think, all the way up through the grass and muck, up into the golden light from the windows. My mind seemed blank, wiped clean, like I had learned nothing in the past year. Why couldn't I just focus?

As we neared the house, I could see shadows moving inside the kitchen. People had certainly arrived, but not nearly enough. Had more people fallen? Been driven from their paths? Were we the only ones left?

Paces away from the door, Ophilia rushed ahead and knocked furiously. "Mrs. Weasley! It's Ophilia!" As her fist swung again to make contact, the door opened, and Ophilia stumbled forward a step over the threshold. Mrs. Weasley shot out an arm to catch her, and I glimpsed Harry, Jennifer and Ginny over her shoulder.

"Ophilia thank goodn— George? George!"

"We need to lay him down," I managed through gritted teeth, and Molly cleared a path to the sitting room couch. She jumped into action straight away, pushing others back while Lupin and I laid him down, and then helping me conjure more bandages. In the light now, I could see the deep saturation of blood around his ear, despite my best efforts. Why couldn't I remember?

Behind me, there was scuffling and a "Hey!" and I turned to see Lupin, Harry and Jennifer all pointing wands at each other.

"What was the creature in the corner the first time you visited my office?" Lupin asked with a deadly edge to his voice.

"H-hinkypunk!" Harry blurted out, and Lupin's wand fell.

"We were betrayed tonight. We must be certain who we let into this house."

"It was Snape," Ophilia said from next to me. "I saw him. He's the one who... who did this." Her hands were trembling as she helped Molly wash George's neck. I resumed muttering spells, trying once more to calm the bleeding and heal some of his ear back. Why the bloody hell was nothing working?

"Could you tell what curse it was?" Ginny asked. Her face was very pale, but she was putting on the same brave expression that her mother was.

"Sectumsempra, I think," I answered. "But I've never—"

"Well aren't you a Healer? Fix him!"

"I'm trying!" I snapped back, heat flooding my body. "I've never dealt with this curse—"

The door to the Burrow opened again and Arthur, Fred and Jared walked in, wet and windswept but ultimately unharmed.

"Blimey, you wouldn't believe the time we had getting to our Portkey—"

Lupin cut them off, blocking full entry into the house, but not the view that Arthur and Fred both got of a bloody George on the sofa.

"Who was the last person we—"

"Great Merlin, man, that's my son and this is my house!" Arthur yelled, shoving Lupin aside and going straight to the sofa. Fred pushed past silently, eyes trained on the bloody mess, unspeaking. Molly and I were shoulder to shoulder, finishing the bandages around George's head as Arthur smoothed George's hair back. Behind us, I caught bits of hushed, worried conversation, too quick for me to guess who was speaking.

"They haven't made it back yet."

"Where's Hagrid?"

"I nearly fell off my broom—"

"—we crashed right into the vegetable garden, broke my arm—"

"Hermione!"

Satisfied as I could be that the new bandages would hold much better, I pushed back from the sofa and let the Weasleys make a barrier around George. He was still breathing, still alive, but had yet to open his eyes since we had landed. I found the case of potion supplies Ophilia had grabbed and began sorting through it, mind blank. There had to be something I could use to fix this, but nothing I pulled out had any use to me.

"What was the last thing Dumbledore said to the pair of us?"

"Harry is the best hope we have. Trust him."

The amount of people in the sitting room was suffocating. Another trio had just made it back, and feet and knees jostled around me as people took care not to tread on me or bump into the table that held my kit. Dittany? No, the salve had already not worked. Spider eyes? No, I needed at least four more herbs to make an antidote with that, three of which I didn't have. Billywig sting? Maybe, but I didn't have anything to crush it up with—

"Sarlanda."

I looked over sharply to see Jennifer kneeling next to me. "What?"

"It's okay, you can stop," she said, voice gentle. "He's here, he's fine."

"He's not, I just know I have—"

"Sar. It's okay." She set a hand on mine, stopping me from turning over a vial of purple liquid for the fifth time. "You did everything you could."

"Did I?" I lost myself staring into the vial, trying to remember if I had ever read anything about the curse. Where had I even learned Scetumsempra?

"Yes," Jennifer insisted. She was putting things back in my kit now, arranging bottles and bundles of herbs neatly inside. "He will be alright, and we're lucky you were there to help him. It could have been a lot worse."

"I... I suppose."

She snapped the case closed and pulled me tight into her arms. It took a few moments for me to realize what was happening before I hugged her back. A hot wave of shame rolled over me when I glanced at George, his eyes starting to flicker open. I had failed to protect anyone. I couldn't do my job. He was going to be missing an ear for the rest of his life. Jennifer pulled me up to my feet and brought me over to the kitchen table, out of the chaos of the sitting room. My face felt on fire.

"I can't remember if I had ever even learned how to reverse it." My throat was raw, like I had been screaming for hours without water. "I can't even remember how I learned that curse in the first place."

She had a comforting hand on my back. "I don't really know either."

The door opened again and three more figures pushed inside. I thought I head George's voice, weak with pain. Though the voices were not loud, so much conversation was overwhelming. I tried pulling some hair in front of my face to hide. I sat, numb, staring at the table to see if it would help me riddle out how to fix this, the din of conversation and the clinking noises of Jennifer making tea filling my ears. My hands clasped together tight in my lap, enough that I wondered briefly if I could pop a few fingers out of place. There were so many books in the St. Mungo library, I could just—

"Sarlanda. Stop."

A cup and saucer were set in front of me.

"I know you're just mulling it over and over again. But I don't think even Madame Pomfrey could regrow an ear like that."

Sugar bowl. Tongs. Small pitcher of cream.

"I know there's a counter curse," I said, voice choking. "I know. Snape used it on Draco. I overheard some whispers in the teacher's lounge last time I was on patrol in the castle. And your face… your face healed up." Steaming tea poured into the cup. I ignored it. "Maybe—"

"It makes sense," Jennifer suddenly said. "Snape is the Half Blood Prince. Harry said he had learned some new spells from his old textbook. Snape must have invented the curse. But where…?"

"Lance," I said bitterly, finally making the connection. "I learned it from Lance. Snape, or someone else, must have taught him." The thought broke me momentarily from my trance and I added some cream to the tea before wrapping chilled, trembling fingers around the cup.

She sat across from me, silently fixing her own tea up as I took several sips.

"Mad Eye is dead," I finally said. "I… he was the first one Voldemort went after. Ophilia barely escaped, and I don't know what happened to Dung."

She just let out a shaky sigh and raised her cup.

"To Alastor Moody, the best, craziest bastard we may ever know."

"Here, here," I said, and we drank deeply.

Hey there, welcome back! I'm alive! I'm working on this fic again! I'm so thrilled to be posting again!

Graduate school was absolute murder, but I'm finished with that now. Pandemic time as given me a lot more time to write, and I'm determined to finish this fic in a timely manner. I'm already a few chapters ahead, the rest of the story is completely plotted out, and I plan to update every two weeks.

The rest of the story is also going to get darker. I will post appropriate warnings at the top of specific chapters, but do aim to still keep within in the T rating.

Thank you to Sav for beta reading for me!

Absolute love,

Icamane