Another day had passed and it was now time to start the ritual.

Alya had spent all morning drawing runes on the floors of the ritual chamber using the special chalk make of powdered unicorn horn. It was a long and exhausting task. Even though she only needed to write, the runes needed to be perfectly done and in the exact spot required. A mistake could blow up the whole manor, and them with it, during the ritual.

In the afternoon she had gone back to the lab, adding the last ingredients to the potions and bottling them once done.

Blaise had left in the middle of the night, once she was deep asleep, to procure the unicorn needed to the sacrifice. As promised, come morning she had found an aged unicorn in the stables of the manor.W

When the time for the ritual neared, she handed the blue tunics to Blaise, Rabastan and Rodolphus. They were charged to help her maintain the base ritual by chanting a spell all through it. She had instructed them to cleanse themselves and bathe with the oils left in their rooms, then wear the tunic. Just the tunics.

Voldemort had been similarly instructed, only his own tunic was white.

She had done the same, carefully cleansing herself and bathing with rose scented oils and moon flower extracts. After loosely braiding her hair, so they couldn't bother her, she wore her robes. They were made of the finest acromantula silk, of a deep blue color with silver lining and tiny silver runes etched all through the fabric. When she moved the robe looked like a shimmering night sky. It was closely fitted to her torso, with a sweetheart neckline and long billowing sleeves; and flared from her waist into a wide skirt. Her feet were bare and she wore nothing else bar her Bloody Rose necklace. She couldn't bring herself to take it off and something in her told her that it wouldn't interfere with the ritual, but somehow help her.


Walking gracefully into the ritual room she saw that everyone was present, standing off to the side of the entrance, afraid to ruin the runes on the floor.

Alya walked right over them, having cast a specific charm that made them stick to the floor and not smudge. She stopped at the cardinal points, each time accioing a different colored candle and placing it on the ground. She did the same with clear crystal, laying them in between each candle, but closer to the middle of the ritual circle.

Nodding to herself she turned.

"I need you three to stay at an even distance from each other. Create a triangle around the circle" she said pointing to where each of them needed to stand.

"You will go to the center of the circle and lay down. It's going to hurt and we don't need you to fall over and break your neck" she said to her father. She was uncomfortable with calling him that to his face while he was so mutilated, unless it was sarcastically.

"Everyone else, out" she ordered "You can see the ritual from the side chamber, but I want no one else inside. Your presence would disrupt the ritual or interfere in worse ways" she said, glaring at a defiant Bellatrix who had to be dragged out by Fenrir.

Calling for the elf she made him apparate the unicorn in the chamber ordering it to petrify it. Having to kill an innocent being was bad enough, but having it whine and fight back would break at heart.

"I'm starting the ritual now. I need you to start chanting as soon as the circle starts glowing" she said getting nods from all the men.

Voldemort laid down, torn between obeying this woman and fight her, paranoid that she was going to kill him somehow by destroying his precious horcruxes.

She may be his daughter but he wouldn't believe it unless Regulus told him himself, something that could not happen, that he had been pregnant with his child.

Taking a deep breath, Alya positioned herself between the second and third circle of runes, there being seven circles in total. With a flick of her wrist she lit the candles and closed her eyes.

In her soft velvety voice, she started chanting, slowly growing in tone and speed. The runes started glowing softly form the first inner circle outwards. Three male voices joined hers in the chanting. Once all the runes were lit, she stopped chanting but kept her magic steady to power the ritual.

Calming her nerves, she kneeled to the floor. That was where the real ritual started. Clenching her fists to stop her hands from shaking, she took the ritual bowl and the vial she left beside it.

Carefully she poured the potion into the bowl, its acid green color reminding of the Killing Course. Then she readied herself for the next step.

Unsheathing the athame, she cut deep into her palm letting the blow flow into the bowl and join the potion. The concoction started slowly swirling, like a miniature lazy whirlpool.

"Blood of the daughter, freely given. You will restore the body to its former glory" she chanted

Rising to her feet, bowl cradled in her hands, she walked to the unicorn. Thankful that the elf had been so thoughtful to put the creature into a forced sleep, she slit its neck let the silvery blood flow into the bowl.

"Blood of unicorn, forcibly taken. You will restore the soul to back to fullness" she chanted again, her voice growing echoing eerily in the chamber.

The men were still chanting in the background, keeping a keen eye on the proceedings.

Alya stroked once the unicorn's neck and snout "Thank you for your sacrifice, oh creature of the light. May your innocence and purity heal the broken soul of my father " she whispered with eyes closed, breaking the ritual for a moment. She had acted impulsively and feared that it would compromise it all; but instead the unicorn, the bowl and she herself glowed brightly for a moment in a silvery light.

Alya smiled, recognizing what happened as the unicorn accepting her apology and giving its blessing to the ritual.

Rising to her feet once again, Alya went to bring the bowl to the center of the ritual. She kneeled by her father's head, laying the bowl between her bent legs and his head.

Dipping a finger into the bowl, she started drawing runes upon his forehead, eyes, cheeks, until they covered all his head. Slowly she moved drawing runes on his arms, hands, on his exposed torso, his legs and feet.

Once she was done she dipped her finger into her still open wound on her hand, and smeared some blood on the main rune over the man's heart.

Holding the bowl and raising it to the sky, she chanted "Oh Great Mother of Magic, hear this daughter's plea. Let this man be reunited with what he once parted with. I give you my blood as a sacrifice, as sign of my loyalty and fidelity. May this ritual be blessed by your grace and wisdom."

A soft wind caressed the chamber, the runes started glowing from the faint yellow to a bright bluish white.

Lowering the bowl to the ground, without touching it, and bowing her head she continued "Oh Grim Reaper, hear this mortal's plea. Let this man be reunited with what he once parted with. I give you this unicorn's blood as a sacrifice, as sign of my respect and acceptance to you. May this ritual be blessed by your shadows and presence"

The breeze became a chilly wind that tousled everyone's hair and threatened to blow out the candles. The runes glowed a grey black, sign of Death's acceptance of her sacrifice.

Alya started chanting in a mix of different ancient and lost languages then, holding the bowl to her father she motioned him to sit up and drink the remaining of the concoction.

Seeing his hesitation, she managed to glare him into submission while keeping up with her chanting.

As soon as the last drop touched his lips, he fell back down whacked by unimaginable pain. Her voice got louder and louder, amplified by her magic and the magic of the ritual. The runes settled for an avada kedavra green glow, intermittently going to red and silvery before going back to green.

Starting from the outside the runes started glowing so bright that the occupants of the chambers had to shield their eyes not to be blinded. When it arrived to the center, Voldemort was completely obscured by the light. Last they had been able to see him he was screaming silently, back arched and muscles tight in pain.

They were still somewhat able to see the form of Alya kneeling on the ground, only hearing her voice still chanting without stopping once.

The men were still reciting the spell, starting to grow uncomfortable; half an hour had passed at least and their dry throats were starting to hurt. They were at a point where after repeating the same thing over and over, the words had no more meaning to them.

Suddenly with a wild wave of magic erupting from the center, everything was done. The men had all staggered back, Blaise managing to stay on his feet while the Lestrange brothers who were extremely weak in body fell to the ground heavily.

Looking on Blaise could see two figures laying on the ground.

Running forward he gathered his beloved in his arms.

"Alya? Alya, amore? Can you hear me?" 'love' he called stroking her face, trying to get her to answer.

She groaned softly after a moment before whispering "'m so tired"

"I know love. You did great" he reassured her, clearing his throat which itched terribly

"Did it work?" she asked, her own voice raspy

Blaise raised his eyes to study the form of Voldemort "Yes, it seems it did, cara" he said "Now rest. I will take care of you"

" 'm kay." She nodded weakly "love you"

"I love you too" he said softly kissing her red lips, before hooking his arms around her form and getting up, holding her bridal style.

"I'll take her to her room" he said to the others "She's exhausted from the ritual." Calling a house elf he ordered him to apparate the Dark Lord to his rooms and let him rest.


"Are you alright?" Fenrir asked the brothers as he entered the ritual chamber. They were still on the ground and he thought they may be injured

"Yeah" Rabastan rasped "That magic wave fucking hurt though"

"Felt like being trampled by a herd of Hippogriffs" Rodolphus agreed

"Sounds fun. Do you need a hand to get up? A healer?"

"I'm fine" the elder brother said, slowly rising to his feet and groaning as his joints cracked loudly. His brother accepted the help of the werewolf instead.

"I think I broke something" he said gingerly holding his shoulder

"Let's see if someone can look at it" he said "Though I would be weary. No one here has healer training."

"Who the hell treated Bellatrix then?" Rodolphus asked, not really caring for what happened to his wife but worried for his brother.

"Dolohov. And he's more of a butcher than a healer" the wolf said with a shrug of his shoulders

"Why not call Snape. He has some training" the younger one asked

"He's to be kept away from the Manor. Little lady doesn't trust him" he said "I don't know much about it but she promised to explain once the Lord was well"

"Uh. I think I'll keep my shoulder like this" Rabastan stated, not wanting to be subjected to Dolohov's caring hands.

"Suit yourself" was the blasé answer "you can always wait for the Little Lady to feel better and ask her to heal you"

"I think I will do that"

"Now, let's go and get some water in you" Fenrir said walking toward the sitting room "You sound like you just finished a marathon in the desert"