Disclaimer: The rights to the Harry Potter series go to J.K. Rowling. All original ideas present in this belong to me.

Chapter Twenty-Nine | Blondes, Battles, & Harm

I wake up to loud stomping, the walls practically shaking with fury.

"What in the fuck is this!?" Sirius shouts as he barges into my room, the door slamming against the framing behind it and sending a thick dust of paint chips to the floor. He marches up towards me, face knitted together in anger and brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet. He aggressively waves the crinkled newspaper in my face, a moving black and white image of Azkaban prison shimmering across the cover catching my eye.

"Oh… that," I say, getting a good look at the headline. I take the paper from him, Sirius grunting in annoyance as I skim over it quickly.

Break-in at Azkaban!

Ex-Death Eaters Bite Off More Than They Can Chew!

In the wee hours of the night, the incredibly notorious prison of Azkaban was broken into. No, not out of. Into.

Nearly thirty convicts, many of them old members of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's army, Death Eaters, were killed in a surprise break-in turned assassination at the prison. The most infamous of these convicts was none other than the deranged Bellatrix Lestrange, former right-hand to the fearsome Dark Lord, and her husband Rodolphus, who was also one of You-Know-Who's most fearsome enforcers.

The article goes on to read about the same, a summary of the break-in and the very much dead state the prisoners were found in.

There's no mention of the dementors following me, the prisoners having a surprising lack of souls, nor the gruesome details of Bellatrix's death. Looks like the Ministry wants to keep this under wraps as much as possible so as to not incite any public panic.

Just like the summer after the Tournament.

Idiots.

I mean, it's not as if I want them to get people panicking about some maniac who can control dementors running about the country, but it's still really irresponsible of them to say nothing.

"Helene. Where were you last night?"

Oh yeah.

"Azkaban," I reply, looking up at Sirius as I hand the paper back to him. It's not like I'm about to lie to his face about this, and I never said I wasn't going to break into the prison.

Yeah, childish, I know.

"I thought you weren't going to do anything," he hisses, crushing the paper in his fist. I wince at his tone, but I can feel my temper quickly build.

"When did I say that? Did you think I wasn't going to go through with it if I didn't get your approval?" I ask, shaking my head. "You forget that I'm what… eighteen years old?" I gesture at myself. "Just because my body is young, doesn't mean that my mind is."

Sirius clenches his jaw, staring at me furiously. "It doesn't matter. You could have died. Died. Do you not know how dangerous that place is?"

"Sirius, you need to calm down," I argue, putting my hand up to stop him. Unluckily for him, I am pissed off right now what with him waking me up like this.

I am not a morning person.

"Really? What the hell has gotten into you. You know I'm fighting a fucking war on my own here, right? Do you think I'm not going to be in danger?"

"You shouldn't throw yourself into danger to begin with!"

I put my hands up in exasperation. "What's going on? Really? Tell me what's going on," I demand, standing up and getting into his face, nearly brushing against the bottom of his nose as I glare up at him.

Damn you for being so tall. It makes it so much more difficult to be intimidating.

He pulls at his hair, his face crumpling as he sits down on the bed. "I can't… I can't lose you too," he whispers, his throat dry and his voice catching dangerously. He frowns as he stares dejectedly at the floor, fidgeting nervously with his hands. "Everyone I know… all of them except for you and Remus… they're gone."

I sit down next to him, putting my hand on his shoulder. I shouldn't have blown up like that, but Sirius worrying has gotten to be a bit too much. "I know, and I'm not going anywhere," I say, comforting him. "I have the word of Death himself that I'm going to live to a ripe old age. What I am worried about is being incapacitated or unable to put down Voldemort because of some sort of drastic injury that not even I can come back from."

I pause, thinking carefully over my choice of words. I have a tendency to be a bit too… blunt, in situations like this.

"I'm doing everything I can to make sure that Britain and the rest of the world is safe from him. That's not a simple job, nor is it a safe one. Have you still been seeing the mind-healer? Or did you stop going."

Sirius shakes his head sadly, looking slightly embarrassed. "I thought I was doing fine," he grumbles, looking askance. "Guess not."

"Sirius…"

"I know, I know," he mutters, putting his hands up in surrender and leaning his head back, staring at the ceiling. "I know."

"Hey, you're doing a lot better than you used to be," I laugh, remembering chasing him around the Manor. "Better than when I had to tie you to a bloody table and paint you green."

"Very true," he chuckles wryly. "So… how did your er- well, your night go?"

"Fucking awful, which is better than I expected," I answer honestly. "Dementors cleaned out the top level while I looked for Tracey's parents. I put a hole in each of their heads."

"That's… I'm sorry."

I shrug. "Whatever, I'm getting used to it. It's shite, but I am. It's not like any of the stuff I'm going to do in the future will be any good as well, considering we're going to the World Cup in, what, three days or so?"

"Four days, we leave on Thursday," Sirius confirms. "What's the plan for that anyways? You're prepared to fight those guys when they show up, right?"

I nod in affirmation. "I'll go in there aiming to maim, but if I see a single curse that even has the potential to kill, all bets are off."

"I would do the same."

I pause, an awkward silence settling over the two of us. "How's the uh… politicking going?"

Sirius brightens up immediately, excited to talk about his misdoings in the Wizengamot. "Well, Lucius is in a right tiff after Octavius and I stopped yet another of his muggle-baiting bills from going through. Most of the light voting bloc have joined us after Dumbledore's fall from grace, no thanks to the persistently horrible Rita Skeeter and her awful diatribe." He shudders momentarily at the mention of the cake-faced blonde paparazzi. I heard from Octavius that she hits on Sirius mercilessly when she's around him, something that delights me to no end.

Poor guy.

"We've garnered a bit of support from the more neutral-leaning dark families, but I think it's going to take that little bit of work you did in Azkaban, as well as this upcoming skirmish, if you can even call it that, at the World Cup."

"It makes sense," I drawl. The dark families tend to be more traditional, very stuck in their ways. The light side likes to espouse that they're the progressive party, but under Dumbledore's leadership they were just as backwards as those they disparaged, just in different ways. "Just letting you know, when the shit hits the fan at the World Cup I'm going to be moving on my own. I don't want to have you associated with my… what on Earth do I even call it? Alternate persona? Now that I think about it, I feel like some sort of demented wizarding version of the Punisher."

Sirius cackles, his hair shaking as he heaves with laughter. "The Punisher? A little thing like you?" He cries, ruffling my hair playfully as I squawk in protest. "Just over five and a half feet of fury! Watch your ass Death Eaters! Here comes Death's Crusader!"

I scratch my chin at that, actually finding that I like that little nickname more than I should. Although, crusader seems to be a bit much. Honestly, I quite like the sound of Child of Death, ignoring the fact that the dementors are the ones to call me that, it's got a brilliantly eerie ring to it.

Excited shrieking causes me to snap my head up painfully, leaping out of bed and rushing over to Tracey's room. I barge in, opening the door with a flick of my wrist so that I don't smash into it in my rush. I stumble in to see Tracey holding a copy of the Daily Prophet out in front of her, sobbing uncontrollably.

Her gaze flicks up to meet mine, a wide, almost deranged smile on her face. "They're gone!" she gasps, hands shaking as she sets the paper down. She runs her hands over her face, her whole demeanor screaming disbelief. "They're… they're gone. Gone…" she trails off, pinching her cheek and cursing under her breath. "This is real, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's real," I say.

Tracey yelps and leaps towards me, pulling me into a rib-crushing hug. "They're gone, they're gone, they're gone!" she chants, jumping up and down and tossing me about as she celebrates.

Daphne takes that moment to walk into her room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, a dazed look on her face from being woken up. "What's with the commotion in here?"

She blinks tiredly at the sight in front of her, Tracey having nearly hoisted me over her shoulder in a fireman carry, tears streaming down her face.

"Tracey… were you watching Muggle wrestling again?" she wonders aloud, squinting at the two of us.

Tracey awkwardly sets me back down, and I massage my stomach where her shoulder was digging into it. "My parents are gone! Gone!" she announces excitedly, grabbing Daphne's hands and pulling her in for a hug, Daphne squeaking in surprise as the news registers.

"Gone? As in… gone, gone?"

"Yes!"

Daphne's face lights up as she begins to grin from ear to ear, bright white teeth shining. "You can be part of the family! Oh my God! Shit, shit, shit! This is fantastic!" She squeals excitedly, pulling Tracey in close and giving her a peck on the cheek. "I'm going to go tell mum and dad the good news!" she exclaims, already rushing out the door, her baby blue nightgown fluttering around her ankles.

In a matter of moments, it seems that the whole family is in Tracey's room, Terra cradling Tracey against her chest as Octavius paces the room excitedly. Astoria sits on Tracey's bed, kicking her legs playfully and smiling at the sight in front of her, while Sirius is resting on a short chair and Daphne looks as if she's contemplating burrowing under Tracey's covers to catch another half hour of sleep.

If I don't consider myself a morning person, Daphne must be an owl in human form. The girl can stay up until the wee hours of the morning like nobody's business.

"I should floo the Ministry immediately," Octavius says, thinking out loud as his sock-clad feed dig a furrow into the floor. "Tracey, do you want to come with me to fill out those forms?"

Tracey's face turns into a beacon of love and relief at those words, nodding furiously. "Yes!" she shouts, immediately beginning to shoo everyone out of her room. "Go, go! I need to change!" she announces, Sirius laughing as he's upended out of his chair and booted into the hall, scratching his hair.

"What about Daphne?" he argues. "I was pretty comfortable there."

Tracey rolls her eyes. "You know what she's like in the morning, give her five minutes and she'll be out light a light. I'll see you in a few minutes Occy!" she exclaims, slamming the door.

As I walk back to my room I can hear her furiously tearing through her wardrobe, muttering and cursing excitedly over what to wear.

I smile. Who says a little bit of murder can't do any good?

-::-

I pick a slightly dazed looking Astoria from the heavily trampled grass at the portkey site, a wizard in a hilariously bright zoot suit hurriedly waving us through to the World Cup campsite, a look on his face that speaks of the incredibly exhausting effects of monotonous work.

Poor guy.

We tread downhill towards the campsite, Terra handing off a few quid plus tip to the confused muggle worker. I shake my head, wondering once more why the Ministry decided to have the finals at a bloody muggle campsite of all places. It's not like they couldn't have warded the place to hell and just made a bunch of people forget that there's a campsite there for the few days that the event goes on for.

"Oh my God, do you see that guy?" Daphne giggles, pointing not-so-subtly at a wizard making his way through the teeming throng of campers wearing a garishly yellow coat that very strongly resembles the one worn by Paddington Bear.

Did I mention that he's wearing only a garish yellow coat?

"What the… what?" Tracey murmurs, staring in horror. "Is that supposed to be muggle clothing? Has he ever heard of, you know, jeans?"

Astoria meanwhile is having a hard time breathing due to laughing so hard, holding her belly as she cackles silently. I put my hand on her shoulder and help direct her towards our tent as we follow mum, dad, and Sirius, the honorary cool uncle of the group.

Apparently, we're meeting up with Andromeda, Ted, and Dora as they're staying with us. I think Sirius is going to finally work out inducting them back into the Black family this weekend. Unfortunately, Remus wasn't able to attend the festivities as the finals are occurring only two days after the full moon, and he's going to be a bit too knackered to enjoy it. He described the after-effects of the change as akin to 'the worst hangover that has ever, and will ever occur, and it somehow keeps getting worse.'

Poor guy.

After a few minutes of pushing our way through the bustling and very poorly dressed crowd of partiers, we make it to the tent.

It's much closer to the stadium than the Weasley's tent was due to Sirius shelling out to get a more convenient spot. Our seats aren't nosebleeds this time as well, which I'm thankful for. I didn't get the best chance to keep track of the game last time around, and I want to get a bit of tasteful excitement in before I go off and put down a few drunken Death Eaters.

Life can't all be destruction and mayhem.

The tent is quite tall, looking more like an enclosed canopy than anything. It's made out of a rich green fabric that somehow manages to look elegant yet sturdy at the same time.

I follow in with the rest of the girls to get a look at the place, and my jaw drops.

Space expansion charms are amazing.

It's like a tiny little replica of the Greengrasses public sitting room, accompanied by a fireplace, liquor cabinet, and a slew of loveseats and sofas surrounding a coffee table set in front of the roaring fire.

To the right of the fireplace, there's a door leading to a small, open kitchen, with a large circular dining table surrounded by a set of chairs, looking very much like a modern take on King Arthur's round table.

Off to the left, there's a staircase.

A fucking staircase.

The charmswork on this place is downright incredible.

Above the staircase is a tiny plaque reading, 'bedrooms,' so I don't have to do too much mental work to figure out what's in that direction. Knowing the Greengrasses, every single one of them must have an en-suite bathroom with accompanied magical plumbing systems.

Oh, the wonders of an aguamenti charm sealed into a wardscheme, as well as vanishing charms placed onto the toilets. Magic is amazing.

"Helene, are you alright dear?" Terra asks, walking over and placing the back of her hand over my forehead as if to check for fever.

I blink awkwardly, realizing that I'm standing stock-still in the middle of the tent. "Yeah, yeah, I'm alright," I mutter, still taking everything in. "This tent is… the charmswork is amazing. How did you ever get your hands on something like this? It must have cost quite a bit."

Terra laughs, looking about the tent proudly. "It's been with the Greengrass family for a while now. Comes with the name, you see. Historically, the Greengrasses were a family of herbologists, and a lot of travel is involved in a field like that," she explains, gesturing around herself. "So, this was commissioned two centuries ago by Octavius' great-great… well, great something or other," she laughs, holding her hand over her mouth. "This was what they stayed in when they were hunting down rare plants."

I nod along as she tells her story, imagining an almost Ernest Hemingway like man venturing around the jungles of South-America looking for rare tropical plants while still living in the lap of luxury.

Magicals are fucking weird.

A tall woman with long black hair, tight ringlets fluttering over her shoulders walks over to me, shaking my hand. I have to shake my head to get the similarity to Bellatrix out of my head, the woman looking remarkably similar to the deranged killer, the most discernable difference being her kindly demeanor and soft, motherly features. "You must be Helene Potter, it's so good to finally meet you," she says, smiling at me.

"Andromeda?" I ask, the woman nodding in response.

"I don't know if Sirius mentioned it, but we're working out me and my family's induction back into the House of Black," she mentions, her face lighting up. "So, I might be an aunt of sorts in the future."

I smile back at her. "Sirius did mention it, and it's great to meet you. He told me a while back, but I had to keep it under wraps. Apparently, Sirius loves his surprises."

"That son of a bitch," she mutters, putting her hand over her mouth in shock. "I didn't say that out loud, did I?"

"Don't worry, he gets that reaction out of everyone."

Andromeda laughs, her voice sweet and rich. "Gods, I forgot how ridiculous the man can be." She smooths out her light jumper, waving me off. "Don't let an old woman keep you, you go and enjoy the festivities. I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other in the future."

I wave back at her, turning around to see a blonde blur speeding towards me. "Helene, Helene!" Astoria shouts, nearly knocking me over as she stampedes down the stairs and ploughs into me. I jump in fright, having not even seen her go up them in the first place.

Damn she's fast.

"Let's go find everyone else!" she exclaims excitedly, jumping around, Andromeda smiling kindly at the cheerful girl.

I smile at her. "You want to wait for Daphne and Tracey first? I think they would be pretty frustrated with us if we went to go meet up with Hermione and the others without them."

Astoria scowls playfully, before nodding her assent. "I'll go get them!" she says, already racing back up the stairs to forcibly drag the two girls down.

Of course, she does just that, Daphne and Tracey swearing loudly, much to Terra's chagrin, as they're torn away from whatever they were doing.

"Calm down Astoria! We still have plenty of time before the game starts!" Daphne exclaims, an odd mix of frustration and playfulness in her voice. Tracey stumbles in behind her, laughing loudly at Astoria's excitement.

"No! Let's go find them! Come on!" Astoria shouts, racing towards the tent-flap.

I roll my eyes. "I'll go make sure that she doesn't run off," I say. "You two coming with me?"

Tracey looks to Daphne, who shrugs. "Might as well, not much to do here except lounge around and eat."

The three of us head back outside, quickly catching sight of Astoria, who's jumping up and down, a hand held over her eyes to block out the sun as she scans her eyes over the campground. "I can't find them!" she chirps, frowning slightly.

I walk over and take her hand so that she doesn't run off again. She's so full of energy that she can remind me of an eight-year-old at times. "Well, Hermione told me that she's staying with Luna. I know that Lisa is staying with Padma as well, and I think I know where the Weasleys are camped out if all of you want to go and grab Ginny."

"That sounds like a good plan to me," Daphne says. "We can go and get Hermione and Luna. Do you want to get Ginny and then we can all meet by Padma's tent?"

I nod, leading Astoria through the teeming crowds as she ooh's and aah's over the different sights and sounds. She laughs excitedly when she sees a Bulgarian man fire breathing, rampant lions twirling around burning iridescent dragons, spiraling towards the sky. I have to say; the magical version of the carnival trick is much more impressive.

After stopping to watch some of the entertainers, a parade of people marching around on stilts, decked out in their countries colours, as well as a piss poor excuse for a snake charmer who nearly gets his nose bitten off by the viper he's trying to work with, we finally come across the Weasley's homely tent.

I walk over and stick my head in, knocking on a post to announce my presence. "Hello! Is there anyone there?" I call, Arthur Weasley poking his head out and smiling widely at me, his bright red hair looking slightly tousled as he tries to get the tent in order.

"Helene Potter! It's so lovely to meet you!" he cries, striding over and shaking my hand, his grip firm yet gentle. "Please! Please! Come in," he babbles, waving me in. "Were you looking for Ginny? I seem to recall her mentioning you this summer." He looks at me for a moment, a sad smile on his face. "As her Father, I'd like to say thank you for talking to her. You've always been a huge role model of hers, and after… after Ron's passing, you've been a bit of an emotional rock for her as well."

"I'm so sorry for what happened Mister Weasley," I murmur, bowing my head slightly. "It means a lot to know how much I mean to Ginny. I don't know her too well, but my sisters and I, as well as our friends hope to get to know her better."

"Thank you very much," he says, eyes knitted tight as he swallows heavily, still very much feeling the effects of the loss of his son. "Ginny is just over that way." He points off towards a tiny ramp, patterned crimson drapes drawn together by a ragged golden string marking the entrance towards Ginny's room. "I'll leave you to it, but if you need anything don't hesitate to get me, alright?"

He wanders off to continue setting up the tent, a spot of cleaning being done judging by the look of recently scourgified furniture.

Astoria and I walk up the small ramp, unlacing the impromptu door and walking into Ginny's room.

It looks much like her room at the burrow. A single bed next to the wall, clothes strewn about the place, as well as a smattering of band and quidditch posters tacked to the walls, most of them the familiar green of the Holyhead Harpies.

Ginny is lying on her bed, knees bent as she reads, the book propped up on her thighs.

"Go away Fred, George. I'm busy," she exclaims, not bothering to look up at us.

"Well, we're not Fred and George," I say, looking at Astoria who giggles.

"I don't think I've ever been called Fred before," she snarks, laughing even harder when Ginny jumps in fright.

"Helene! Astoria! Merlin, you scared the hell out of me!" she gasps, hand held over her heart. "What are you two doing here?"

"Well, Astoria and I were in the neighbourhood and we wanted to see if you'd like to join us. We were getting together with Hermione and the other girls. See the little shops, maybe get some souvenirs?"

Ginny smiles widely, setting her book down and throwing on a pair of sandals before I can even blink. "Say no more!" she cheers, running forward and taking my arm. "Let's go find everyone else!"

Leading the two giggling girls, one I'm amazed to find has the ability to laugh after what she's gone through, we work our way towards Padma's families tent.

As we're weaving our way through the crowds, I manage to spot an oddly familiar glint of silver.

I flick my eyes over, eyes widening when I recognize Fleur Delacour walking with her sister, Gabby, who immediately spots me and starts frantically jabbering to Fleur, jumping and pointing in my direction.

Fleur looks up, locking eyes with me and frowning for a moment, before walking towards us.

"Bonjour," she drawls, Gabby shyly hiding behind her. "I'm sorry to bother you Miss Potter, but my sister is quite the fan of yours. If it's no trouble, would you be able to sign an autograph for her?"

I gawk for a moment, blinking stupidly. "An… autograph?" I stutter, Gabby now blushing furiously. I pat my pockets, realizing that I don't have a pen or quill on me.

Astoria laughs loudly. "Helene has a fa-a-an!"

Cheeky little bugger.

I cast a playfully annoyed look at her, turning back to Fleur. "Sorry, I've never done this before," I apologize, rubbing the back of my head sheepishly. Quickly, I summon over a fallen branch, snapping it in half and transfiguring the two pieces into a sturdy manila card and a simple fountain pen. "Er- who should I make this out to?" I ask, looking up at Fleur and suddenly being struck by how horribly gorgeous she is.

Holy Mother of God.

It's not as if I didn't realize how pretty she was in my last life, but I feel that I had placed her on an unreachable pedestal. This… impossible to even begin to think of ideal of a witch, ethereal in magic, mind, and body.

Now? All I can see are pearlescent blue eyes, shining at me inquisitively, an immense wealth of cleverness and talent hidden behind cerulean walls. She cocks one silvery eyebrow, lips quirked into a facsimile of a grin as she catches me staring at her. I have to tear my eyes away from her own, casting them downwards and finding myself entranced by the surreal vision in front of me. Soft, porcelain skin and sharp, well defined cheekbones that lead into the most inviting lips I've ever set eyes on.

I realize that I must be blushing something fierce, imperceptibly shaking my head and putting up my occlumency barriers to clear my mind of any lascivious thoughts.

Self control Helene.

Fleur's eyebrow raises even higher at how suddenly I've collected myself, and her smile grows even wider. "That would be for Gabrielle Delacour," she intones, her accent thick and oh so enticing.

I turn my eyes towards the shy little girl hiding behind her older sister, grinning widely at her as I sign the card with a flourish. "For… Gabrielle Delacour, my first and best fan," I say, handing the card to her, Gabrielle tentatively reaching out and snatching it from my hands, holding it close to her chest as she stares up at me in adoration. "I hope you two enjoy the game, make sure to stay safe though, yeah? I've heard that parties at events like this can quickly get out of hand… what with all the drinking," I add, hoping that the two aren't caught up in the travesty that's sure to happen later this evening.

Fleur gives me an odd look at that but nods all the same. "Thank you, Miss Potter," she says, turning towards her sister with another raised eyebrow. "…et ques disons-nous?"

Gabrielle looks to the ground, the absolute picture of cuteness as she puts her hands behind her back and quietly says, "Merci beaucoup, Mademoiselle Potter."

"Aucun problème," I reply, pushing the extent of my French to the limit with that short reply. "Well, I have to be going, but you two have fun!" I say as I pull Astoria and Ginny away from the image of beauty, Ginny blatantly gawking at Fleur.

"I've never seen a girl who looks like that before," she murmurs, a dazed look on her face. She suddenly realizes what she's said and clenches her jaw, a flash of fear passing over her. "Don't… don't tell my family I said that, please?" she begs, swallowing heavily.

I look curiously at her. "I won't, but why would that be a problem? I had a hard time tearing my eyes away from her myself," I admit, Astoria giggling at me.

"Did you think she was pretty Helene? Helene and Fleur sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" she bursts, chanting playfully, a few passersby chuckling at her childish announcement.

Ginny shrinks into herself even more, biting her lip furiously.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?" I say, concerned as I kneel down in front of Ginny, placing my hands on her arms reassuringly. "Are you alright?"

She shakes her head nervously. "You… you really don't know, do you?"

"About what?"

"A witches witch… they're not… well. It's not talked about," she says flatly, staring at the ground. "Especially someone like you? A Lady of her House? People would lose their minds."

"Really? I mean, I thought it wasn't… mentioned in 'good pureblood company,' but I thought that was just the extent of it."

"No. It's pretty bad. My aunt… she's not really part of the family anymore. I heard mum talking about how she settled down with a halfblood lady after Hogwarts and was kicked out of the Prewitt's. No questions asked, just gone."

I gasp quietly, frowning at that bit of information. "That's awful," I mutter, shaking my head incredulously.

Just another thing to add on to how backwards this bloody country is.

"I won't mention what you said Ginny, but you should know that I'm probably going to make some waves some day. I'm a witches witch through and through. Wizards are just so… ugh," I shudder playfully, winking at her. Ginny's eyes widen dramatically at my admission and inadvertent coming out. "Astoria, I trust that you can keep your lips sealed on this?" I add, turning towards my little sister.

She nods furiously, making a motion of zipping her lips, suddenly quite serious. "Not a word of it," she promises.

"Alrighty. Well, enough interruptions! Let's be off!" I announce, pointing ahead and leading the two of them to the rest of the girls.

-::-

I'm sitting in the tent after the game chatting happily with Sirius as the shouts of glee turn into shrieks of fear, a loud explosion in the distance rocking our glasses, the liquor cabinet shaking violently as the bottles inside clink together loudly, the chandelier above us swinging from the shockwave.

"Well, looks like it's time," I say matter-of-factly, flicking my wand out of its holster as Sirius downs the last of his drink, removing his own as well.

"I'm going to get everyone together, you're splitting off in the commotion, right?" I nod in reply, Sirius pursing his lips. "Meet us where we portkeyed in as soon as you can."

Terra takes that moment to thunder down the stairs with the girls in tow, Octavius hot on her heels. "What's going on?" she asks, worry in her eyes, her normally calm voice thin and warbled. The Tonks' had left earlier, wanting to get an early night due to the whole family still working the next day. Good that they don't have to deal with what is to come this evening.

"An attack by the sounds of it, maybe a riot," Sirius answers, leading everyone out of the tent, Daphne, Tracey, and Astoria following with wide, terrified eyes, their wands held in shaking hands.

Rapidly, Octavius and Terra dismantle the tent, stowing it away in a satchel and hanging it over Octavius' shoulder. "Let's get out of here, everyone stay close together," Octavius says, Terra pulling the girls in close as we begin to make our way out of the forest, Sirius watching our back as we fight our way through the panicking throngs of drunken festival goers, horrible screams echoing off in the distance.

A fireball erupts somewhere to the right, startling everyone. I take that moment to quickly slip Death's cloak over my shoulders, placing my wand to my throat to distort my voice as I disappear from sight, making my way towards the panicked shouting.

I have to dodge around the fleeing mob, the familiar sight of a man in a bright yellow coat and nothing but scampering over liquor-soaked grass that seems to quickly draw in the spreading inferno in front of me, great flames reaching for the low hanging branches above, pine needles crackling loudly as they burst from the heat.

I tread carefully, yet quickly, pained and fearful screams growing louder and louder as I march onward.

I notice a duo cackling loudly as they spew large gouts of fire from the ends of their wands, swinging their weapons dangerously and without any worry for themselves or others as they wreak havoc over the campground.

Quickly, I snap off bone-breaking hexes, the men screaming out in pain as their knee caps shatter loudly, collapsing to the ground like marionettes with their strings cut, their wands flying from their hands.

I walk up to them, pulling back their hoods and removing their masks, two unfamiliar, yet undeniably aristocratic faces staring up at me.

Definitely pureblood elites.

"Who the fuck are you?" one of the two growls, a heavyset man with long, curled brown hair.

The other man groans pitifully, eyes spinning in their sockets as he deals with the pain of organic shrapnel having torn through the ligaments of his knees.

Did I say bone-breaking hex? I meant bone-exploding.

"Nobody of consequence," I reply, stunning the two and snapping their wands, leaving them next to their comatose bodies as I carry on.

Fingers crossed I come across my old friend Lucius tonight. I know I said that I was going to maim first, but that man deserves everything coming to him, and if I'm the one to remove him from this earth, then even better.

I continue forward, making my way deeper and deeper into the forest, the roaring of the fires around me beginning to ache on my ears, the blistering heat causing sweat to drip from my forehead. I cast a cooling charm over myself, staving off the sweltering heat for a moment as I set eyes on a group of just over a dozen Death Eaters. The same group of Death Eaters that nearly killed the muggle family overseeing the campsite in my last life.

Just on time, I see them levitate the terrified muggles, the family screeching in confusion and fear as they're lifted into the air by an unseen force, eyes bugging out of their skulls as they realize that magic exists.

In a flash, I've sent a massive gust of air towards the Death Eaters, causing them to stumble and lose their hold on the terrified family, who collapse to the ground in a confused heap, quickly scrambling to their feet and rushing off into the trees, the Death Eaters roaring in fury at losing their catch.

They quickly form a circle, firing killing curses errantly into the trees as they attempt to catch me.

Furious at how rash they are to be indiscriminately casting the most lethal of curses, I punch down with one fist, a wall of air slamming into the group from above and flattening them. One Death Eater is caught off guard, grunting loudly as his leg snaps, feebly attempting to crawl back to his feet with one crippled limb.

Before they can react, I'm snapping off another series of bone-exploding hexes, a handful of the men falling to the ground screaming in pain, sharp splinters of bone flying outwards and peppering their comrades, tearing through robes and skin alike.

I march forward, ducking under a curse sent my way as I continue to fire spell after spell. A cutting curse is laced through the confusing mass of light and sound, clipping my waist and tearing a ragged slice through my midsection, causing me to hiss loudly and hold my hand to the wound.

I'm good at one on one, but fighting a group of enemies? Especially ones that are prepared for a fight? Not exactly my area of expertise.

I cover my eyes as an incredibly bright light suddenly bursts in the middle of the clearing, two of the Death Eaters falling over as their skin is seared from its bones from the explosion, the others howling as their robes are set alight, pure white flames dancing across the inky black cloth and devouring swaths of the fabric. The men scramble to put out the fires, shouting in fear as the flames fight all attempts to be choked out, instead growing steadily and eating away at the men, their bodies crumbling to ashes in front of me.

Holy fuck, that wasn't my spell. That definitely wasn't me. That almost felt like…

Before I can finish that train of thought, the few Death Eaters left have regrouped, advancing towards me and casting furiously as they attempt to put down the one responsible for decimating their ranks. Jabbing my wand forward, another barrage of lethal hexes and curses are emitted from the tip, finishing off the panicked group of murderous bastards, the final few collapsing as if their legs were cut out from under them.

Well, they were, judging by the detached limbs that are leaking thick crimson lying about the clearing.

I walk into the clearing, wand still held out in-case my unseen helper decides that they want to attack me as well. "I'm checking the bodies! Seeing who they are!" I announce, one hand held high as I move forward.

"That's fine with me, I was about to do the same," the stranger says, their voice as distorted as mine as they walk out of the shadows.

I pause for a moment as I take them in. They're hooded as I am, their face shrouded and indecipherable. The stranger is tall, not incredibly tall, but looking to be about six feet. I can't get a good idea of their gender or physique underneath the baggy white robes they're wearing, which are also nondescript.

I do notice that their robes are shockingly clean. Not a speck of mud, dirt, nor blood to be found.

Interesting.

I tuck my wand away, fingers flexed and ready to fight back as I kneel down and begin to lift the hoods off of the Death Eaters, recognizing a few of them.

Avery, Nott, and Crabbe Sr. are amongst the attackers, their vacant eyes gazing off into nothing, mouths agape in fear and anger. A few of the Death Eaters are burnt beyond recognition, and it's going to take a full autopsy and a look over the men's wands to figure out who they were, something that's beyond my ability.

I curse under my breath. No Lucius, unfortunately.

I groan as I get back to my feet, remembering the wound at my side. I move to pass my wand over the cut before realizing that there's no open hole in Death's cloak, the article having somehow knitted itself back together in the confusion.

Well, I didn't know it could do that. Neat.

Looks like I'll have to take care of the cut later.

"Thank you," the stranger says, bowing their hidden head towards me in recognition. "I helped the muggle family get to safety, they're just off in this direction." The turn slightly, pointing behind themselves deeper into the trees. "I don't think they would have gotten out of there alive without you."

"No, thank you," I say, shaking my head, my hood flitting slightly in the wind. "They managed to catch me by surprise, and I'm unused to fighting so many people at once. Whatever spell you used earlier was incredibly helpful and probably saved me a lot of trouble." I hesitate, before deciding to ask the question niggling away at my mind. "What spell was that earlier? I've never seen such a thing."

The figure tilts it's head curiously. "It's nothing you would be capable of casting, that I can say."

I laugh wryly. "Humour me."

The stranger pauses, before snapping their fingers and causing a pitch white burst of flame to erupt between the two of us, the blindingly bright inferno vanishing as quickly as it appeared. "Like I said, it's not something you would be capable of casting."

My breath catches, and I freeze. Is this person… could they be?

"I didn't know there was anyone else like me," I whisper, staring askance at where the flames once were, my mind racing.

"Like you?"

"A…"

I pause, unsure of whether or not I should say it.

No! This could be someone just like me! This could be someone who's gone through what I have, who knows what I know.

I have to take this chance. I can't let this just slip past me, not matter how rash I'm being.

"A Necromancer."

The stranger freezes, hand clenched tightly around their wand. "The opposite, in fact."

My eyebrows climb into my hairline, shock washing over me. "An Albumancer! That's incredible!" I gasp, amazed, before my mind carries on with an entirely different train of thought. "I thought… I thought it was one or the other. Only one of us could be in the world at a time… why does your magic not hurt me?"

The figure tilts it's head once more, almost serene as they stare at me with sightless eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Well… I've found phoenix song to be painful, so why am I not uncomfortable to be in your presence? I'd think that such opposite magics would react in some way, wouldn't they?"

The stranger scratches their chin, a lonesome finger disappearing into the depths of their hood. "That does make sense. I guess this is something I'll have to look into."

Suddenly very unsure of myself, and fully aware that I'm having a more in-depth and very personal conversation with a complete and utter stranger than I've ever had with my family or Severus, I decide to ask a question that's bothering me much more than it should. "If I may ask, why are you not disgusted by me? I would assume most people would be horrified to find themselves speaking to a Necromancer."

"Our abilities are nearly identical, why would I be disgusted?" The figure shrugs, playing idly with the hood of their cloak, pinching and tugging at the fabric. "I've seen too much pain and suffering in my life to decry someone else when they use Dark Magic for good. You killed these Death Eaters and saved that family, that alone tells me all I need to know about you."

I startle at the oncoming sound of shouting aurors, the (incredibly late) response team making their way towards us. I look up to see the Dark Mark flying above the tree line, a shimmering emerald snake idly coiling about itself as it hangs from the open maw of a distorted skull, it's teeth bared in challenge.

Looks like Barty Crouch Jr. escaped as planned.

I turn to move away, before looking back momentarily at the Albumancer. "If things are the same for you as they are for me… good luck with whatever you've been brought back for. I wish you the best."

"Thank you, and the same to you as well," they reply, vanishing in a flash of light.

Huh, flashing, blinking. Same thing I guess.

Deciding to do the same, and not at all interested in another confrontation with Amelia, I blink into the tree-line near the portkey site, glancing around before removing Death's cloak and stuffing it into my pocket, the fabric magically compacting and comfortably sliding into the small receptacle.

I wave my wand over my side, gritting my teeth as I incant the Aramaic healing charm, my side knitting together before me, thin strings of skin reaching across the miniature ravine and pulling the two sides back together, sealing shut.

Pulling my shirt back down over my hips, I tousle my hair to make myself look sufficiently frazzled, before rushing out of the tree-line towards the portkey site.

"Octavius! Terra! Sirius!" I shout as I sprint forward, the concerned group huddled together in the empty and almost demolished field, many people having strolled or fled through the small clearing over the day.

I manage to recognize them in the dark, Terra sobbing loudly as she runs towards me, pulling me into a hug and cradling my head against her chest. "Helene! You had us so worried!" she cries, running her fingers through my hair. "Where were you? Are you alright?" she asks, holding me out in front of her and kneeling down, scanning me with her eyes and patting me down to make sure I'm in one piece.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," I reassure her, smiling awkwardly. "I just got separated from everyone in the confusion. Is everyone else okay?"

"Everyone is fine," Sirius pipes up, nodding towards the small pile of terrified girls that I didn't notice earlier.

Daphne, Tracey, and Astoria are all cuddled up next to each other, eyes puffy and red from crying. "You're safe!" Daphne shouts, walking over and hugging me as well. "Don't do that again, please," she begs, burying her head in my shoulder. "I thought… I thought the attackers got you."

"I'm alright," I say, patting her back and looking over her shoulder, nodding at Tracey and Astoria, who sniffle tiredly and nod back. "Let's get home, yeah? I'm sorry for worrying everyone."

The adults each take one of us, Octavius being the most used to apparating multiple people taking both Daphne and Tracey.

We land off at home, everyone awkwardly stumbling off to bed, exhausted by the days events and the fear and excitement that came with it.

I don't fail to notice Daphne slinking off to Tracey's room, evidently too scared to sleep on her own tonight, nor Astoria following behind Octavius and Terra, the two not uttering a single complaint and instead inviting their daughter in to the safety of their bed.

I march off to my own, still riding the high from battle, deciding to take a shower before bed.

I quickly clean my teeth, before I disrobe and step into the hot water, letting it cascade down my back as I stand there and think.

An Albumancer. Someone like me.

Well, not someone like me, but as close as once can be. As close as someone can come to truly understanding what it's like to have been brought back to life… if that's what happened to them as well.

Would an Albumancer have been just… brought into life? Would that be the case? Does that even make sense? I mean, isn't everyone technically brought into life? I don't know if it would be Life's prerogative to take care of something like that, considering Death was the one to send me back.

God, my head hurts just thinking about it.

So, I don't know the specifics behind this person's… travels, but I want to know. Is this what it's like to truly be a Ravenclaw? This burning need to discover every bit of errant knowledge? Or am I just curious because I want to learn more about the one person who could truly understand me?

I groan in frustration, realizing that I'm probably never going to run into this Albumancer ever again. Knowing my luck, it's either that, or they'll somehow come to the conclusion that I have to die and will begin to hunt me down.

One of the two.

I quickly wrap up my shower, drying off and throwing on underwear and a large shirt, unceremoniously tossing myself into bed and falling asleep to many thoughts of 'what if?'

Apologies for my piss-poor French. I never paid any attention to the mandatory language classes in High School.

alertpoet91: The tournament is gonna' be a doozy. Better hold onto your fuckin' pants for this one, because this ain't your daddies Tri-Wizard Tournament.

EazyFade: Nope.

Purpleeater54: Thank you! It was incredibly fun to write out those creepy bastards. I'm glad you enjoy the story.

PascalDragon: I wanted to make the dementors this ancient, eldritch monster. I thought it would be much more interesting than the standard 'hive-mind spooky robed monsters' that many other stories use. Nothing against that, it's just not my speed.

Torvalds42: I'm glad that the mood I tried to capture came across in the way I intended. I wanted Azkaban to be this almost ancient, nearly religious and reverent building, steeped in a bloody history for so long that the fortress itself reflects it.

Death and Life are super cute together. I ship it.