When feeling returned once again to her body, Xylia attempted to move. She was lying outside on what felt like grass. Their natural blades caressed her body, but also irritated her skin. Her hands were bound tightly, her fingers laced together. Something was wrapped around her mouth. Whoever had done this knew that without either her hands or voice, she was helpless.

"Crucio," a voice said before she felt blinding pain in her body. Her screams were muffled by whatever they'd wrapped around her face. With her mouth agape, the fabric fell between her teeth. She took the chance to bite down on it.

"That is unnecessary, Wormtail. She is our guest," a hoarse voice said. Who said that? An old man?

"Yes, my lord."

The pain ceased. Xylia's breathing had turned into gasps. Roughly, she was turned to face her assailant. He'd flipped her over with his foot, apparently. He seemed vaguely familiar. With a face like that, she was honestly surprised that a name wasn't coming to mind. Buck teeth protruded out from his lips, and his hair was disheveled. He looked, at least to Xylia, like a rat. In his arms, it looked as though he were carrying a baby. She looked elsewhere, to see where the other one must have been.

The man in front of her waved his wand with his free hand. Her body was lifted from the ground, although uncomfortably, to be level with him. Her toes reached to the ground, but never touched. From this angle, she could see that he was not, in fact, holding a baby. It was a strange creature. Finally, she was able to place the source of the second voice.

"You have been searching for me," it said.

Xylia scowled. With her mouth bound, she was unable to properly answer.

"Wormtail, let her speak."

"But, my lord-"

"Do as I say!"

"Yes, lord."

To Xylia, it looked as though it were Wormtail that was in the position to give orders. Without him, it didn't look as though the creature could even move. It was probably in its best interest to listen to Wormtail, given the nature of her Voice. He must have believed that he could defend himself against her. Lucky for him, she had no current intention of fighting. Her gag fell to the ground beneath her. She gasped for air, meanwhile looking about her. They looked to be in a graveyard. The sun was just rising. Or, perhaps, setting. There was a lack of dew upon the grass. She must have been unconscious for the entire day.

She gulped, preparing her voice. "If you are the one they refuse to name, then it is you who I seek."

He laughed. "I know who you are. Xylia. Elf. Dragon tamer. What business do you have in finding me?"

She couldn't help but feel the malicious tone in his voice, especially the stress upon each of her public titles. Xylia furrowed her brows. She'd spent over a year attempting to find this thing, only to see him in this pathetic form, rejecting even the idea of her. She thought about dealing a fatal blow with her voice, then decided against it. She was there for Sithis, and she didn't want to incur his wrath, either.

"Do you remember not when you performed the Black Sacrament?" she nearly spat.

Silence.

"Set her free, Wormtail," he finally said.

"She is dangerous, my lord," he tried interjecting once more.

"Do it!"

She fell to the ground, and so did the bindings on her hands. She stretched her fingers and rolled her neck.

"I performed the Black Sacrament nearly two years ago. You are dreadfully late."

Xylia scowled. "Not even Sithis was aware of your location. You summoned a daedric prince in a realm without worshippers. You must understand that you are asking much from one who could smite you. You are lucky that it was acted upon at all," she said.

He breathed slowly. She had the upper ground in this situation. As long as he knew who she was acting for, he wasn't likely to attack her. "Very well."

"Now. I am the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood. I have been sent here on behalf of Sithis and Hermaeus Mora. What do you request upon your Sacrament?"

"The boy, Harry Potter. He must die."

Xylia's breath caught in her throat. It shouldn't have. She knew for a long time that this was going to be what he requested of her. In all honesty, she should have prepared for it. She shouldn't have made them trust her. She shouldn't have gotten close to them. She shouldn't have cared about them.

Without emotion, she nodded. "I will deliver this message to the Night Mother."

"Restrain her, Wormtail," he said.

"Wha-" she went to say, but was suddenly cut off. The fabric tied itself back around her, and her hands and feet were both bound. She fell to the ground. The hard dirt caused her to wince.

"For now, you shall serve as a great distraction. If tonight is as planned, then I will not be in need of your services."

The blood drained from her face. If he killed her, there was little chance that either Mora or Sithis would even know. There would be no punishment for him. While she once believed that she had the upper hand, she then saw that she was at the mercy of him.

They turned to go, leaving her alone on the ground.

Hermione pursed her lips as she looked up at the head table. The professors seemed casual, but the absence of Xylia throughout the day was starting to concern her. "Harry, have you seen Xylia?"

Harry furrowed his brows. With the tournament coming to an end, he likely had other things on his mind. "I don't think so, Hermione. You haven't?"

"Didn't she say she was going to see you today?" Ron asked between mouthfuls. "Blimey, what if something's happened to her?"

Hermione nodded. "That's what I'm worried about. Look at Hagrid. He keeps looking at where she usually sits. Something's wrong."

"Well, what can we do about it?" Harry asked. He was starting to get a little annoyed. While he did worry about her, he had other things to worry about that day.

Hermione sighed. "Maybe she's just busy with the tournament. Hopefully we'll see her."

None of them believed that, though. Still, they kept eating.

Xylia rolled over to the best of her ability. She was laying under a massive grave, adorned with a statue of a hooded, winged figure. It held a scythe in its skeletal hands. While it was the most ornate grave in the entire cemetery, there was a lack of care towards the keeping of it. The grass was mowed and the weeds pulled, but there wasn't much past that.

She was about to give up hope when she heard a strange noise. A sudden pop in the air. After, it was the sound of bodies on the ground. "Ugh," someone complained.

Xylia's eyes searched furiously for the source. It must have been Harry. Would she be punished if she tried to save him? She was told that he intended for her to kill him, but the Night Mother never specifically approved of it.

Movement. Her head rotated towards the noise. "It was a portkey," someone said, but it wasn't Harry. Cedric?

No, this was worse. It was both of them. "Xylia!" Harry exclaimed upon seeing her.

Her eyes were wild. What should she do? If she were going to kill him anyway, would it be unwise to try and warn him? If he did die, however, then her life was on the line. It was Harry's life that that protecting hers. The Dark Brotherhood usually praised self-preservation. She would try to help him, she decided.

He looked about, reading the name on the gravestone, even. "We need to leave. Get to the Portkey," he said to Cedric.

"Pardon?" Cedric asked. He seemed confused. Xylia couldn't say that she was acquainted with him. Since he was basically Harry's enemy for the tournament, he never attempted to get close to her. Harry must have spent too much time with her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. "Kill the spare," her possible employer said in his raspy voice.

She had to make another decision. If his goal was to kill Harry, then the spare must have been Cedric. With all her might, she swung her legs around. She managed to hit him in the knees, causing him to crumple just as a glob of green energy passed through the space he occupied not moments ago.

"Quickly! Go!" Harry urged, but made no motion to go himself.

There was a quick moment between them, and Xylia could only guess the unspoken conversation. Harry would stay, because she was there. Cedric would get help.

The older boy crawled away, and shortly after she heard another pop.

"Crucio!" Wormtail yelled again, sending her once more into a blinding pain. She supposed that this was her punishment for letting the other boy live.

"Enough," the creature said, although this time without force. He probably agreed with Wormtail's punishment.

They came quickly towards Harry, and in a panic, the boy backed himself into the statue. The scythe came down, trapping him there. Xylia struggled through the entire thing. A visceral event in which blood was shed and limbs were chopped off. Eventually, the creature was thrown into the cauldron. Xylia thought it seemed a bit egregious, although perhaps 'cheesy' was a better word for it.

From that, there was what seemed like…a man. Beyond that, however, he still seemed snake-like. Uncanny valley, however. An Argonian would certainly think that it were appropriation.

"My Lord, the boy has probably sent for help."

Xylia hated viewing the man. It was disgusting. Her eyes averted him, although his constant motion begged for her attention.

She shut down. There wasn't much she could do, not with both of them trapped. After all of the dungeons, all the dragons, this would be what killed her.

Thump. Harry was on the ground.

Quick.

As he ran for cover, the man looked amused. She rolled again, in the opposite direction. If their attention was on Harry, then she could get herself out. Safe, behind a grave, she hooped her arms around her legs. In front of her, she was able to pull the rag from her mouth.

Quietly, she breathed. "Zul Mey Gut!" she threw her voice to where she knew that neither she nor Harry would be found. Wormtail's attention turned towards that. She figured the other one would be too preoccupied to care.

While he was looking, she summoned another shout. "Mul Qah Diiv!" she shouted again, this time covering herself in glowing energy. The force of it allowed her to tear the bindings around her hands and legs.

Wormtail now knew where she was, as she was a glowing beacon. Even the other had turned her way. She had moments to act. As exhausted as she was, she had to force a third shout.

"Feim Zii Gron!" As the shout took effect, it was then that a burst of green energy came her way.

"Avada Kedavra!" came from the man's mouth. The killing curse. She knew of it. Harry Potter, thus far, was the only one known to survive it. That night, she could consider herself part of that exclusive list. As the burst of energy hit her, nothing happened. She smirked at him.

Calmly, she walked over to where she'd seen her bag. It wasn't perfect, but it was the best escape plan she had. She couldn't protect both herself and Harry like this. And, while she was immune to their spells and attacks, she was just as powerless against them. If they went for Harry, she could do nothing. For now, she would just have to act as a shield.

She snatched the bag, and just as quickly, grabbed the Black Book from the folds of leather. She walked behind a grave, which she knew Harry was behind.

He looked up at her, a wild fear in his eyes, then to the book. He must have recognized it from the previous year, when he'd been studying with Lupin.

"It's the only way I know," she said, somewhat as an apology, as she looped her arms around him. She pried the book open and let the black tentacles envelope them both.