Short chapter tonight, but I've had to squeeze out bits of time when I can. I take my final licensing exam in November, so hopefully I'll be able to write more once I no longer need to study so much.


Chapter 25
Gifts without Strings

Heathrow Airport, where it all began. They even had on outfits similar to what they had worn when they first met. "I can't really say it was fun," Jen told the other black mages, "but I appreciate you two coming over. I don't think things would have gone half as well as they did if you hadn't. The Turk would have torn me to shreds."

"No thanks are necessary—"

"Speak for yourself."

"—but they are graciously accepted," Priest said, ignoring Menagerie's interruption entirely. "It was not as though our time here was especially trying. Of our many colleagues, you are far from the worst."

Jen raised an eyebrow. "Just far from the worst? Who was the best, then?"

"Well, there was that one broad in Tanzania who tried to get Priest to shack up with two of her daughters. At the same time, even." Menagerie looked at her partner. "I never could tell who was more disappointed that you turned that offer down, her or the girls."

"I have not the faintest idea. I was thinking about Strakoi, myself."

"Oh, yeah. It's not often that one of our allies offers to let us stay in his house until the fight's over. And those meat bun things he made were delicious. It's a pity the Turk killed him in the end," she added with a slight frown.

It took a great effort for Jen not to roll her eyes at that, but she managed it in the end. Meat buns? Really? "Hopefully your next target will lead you to someone more hospitable than I was, then. Where are you going, anyway?"

"That is a mystery to us. Perhaps the Sleeper and the Grand Wyrm have chosen to give us some time off before we are handed our next assignment. Once they make their decision, they will send one of us a sign pointing us where we need to go."

"A sign?" she repeated with no little confusion. "Can't they just tell you? The Baron has no problems invading my dreams to tell me what he wants me to know."

Then again, perhaps it was just a difference in how their respective Powers chose to operate. Never would she have thought of Death as being the helpful and upfront kind of patron, but he had never sent her an omen hinting at what he wanted. If he had some task for her to complete, he called her to his realm and just told her. Compared to vague signs that might be coincidence or might be the Powers' meddling, she much preferred his way of doing things.

Priest simply stood like a silent statue, but Menagerie shuddered enough for both of them. After a moment, he spoke again. "It is still strange that you speak so casually of the Gatekeeper. For all that they empower us, you are one of the exceptionally few who speak so happily about conversing with her god. I know that Menagerie and I prefer to keep such interactions to an absolute minimum."

"Priest, the thing," the pink-haired witch reminded him.

"I had not forgotten. I was simply waiting until a more natural turn of the conversation. But since you are so insistent…." Reaching into his suit coat, the African wizard pulled out a brown paper bag, remarkable only in its utter lack of detail. "I believe this is something best left in your care."

"Aww, I'm touched. If I had known we were exchanging gifts, I would have… gotten…." Jen stared into the bag. It was larger on the inside than the outside, which by itself was no great surprise, but what grabbed her attention so thoroughly was the intricately worked silver hilt hiding beneath a few scraps of paper. She blinked, but no, Clarent was still there. "I'm not giving this back, but I am curious. Why not keep it? Even if it doesn't have much power when wielded against anything but Excalibur, I'm sure it would be more dangerous than a regular sword."

Priest and Menagerie exchanged a glance. "Like he said," the younger of the pair explained, "wanting to talk to the Powers is a sign you've gone crazy, and anything that puts them in a chatty mood is something I want nothing to do with."

"I am not so sure that it was any effect of the sword itself, but her words do have merit. I was visited by the Sleeper, who wished to discuss a small number of banalities. It is an experience I would prefer not to repeat."

She raised an eyebrow, but then she shrugged and closed the bag. "Your loss. I don't know what I'd do with it, though. Even if I wanted to stash it next to Excalibur, I don't know that I could."

Since she had needed to destroy the ward that originally protected Camelot when she grabbed Clarent, they had been very thorough when hiding that Light Treasure anew. Perhaps it would have been wiser to stash the blade where no one would think to look, but three things stopped them. First, it would have been difficult for them to move the sword since none of them could handle it comfortably, even after wrapping it in cloth and leather. Second, it felt appropriate in some way to leave it in Camelot, and both black mages had been fine following her gut feeling. Then again, if they were used to their Powers communicating through signs, perhaps that is where they thought she had gotten that idea. Third, the shadow that had once sat in the normal world had been explored top to bottom, and as a result the idea that the ruins had once been the great castle of Camelot had been 'debunked'. No one would think to look there anew.

Scratch that. Four things stopped them. The last was that there were many hidden nooks and crannies that could fit a sword, and that was before they each threw a number of different spells and protections on its new resting place. If anyone, even one of them who knew what had been cast, could get to it now, he or she deserved to have it.

She would have been more comfortable melting it down and making belt buckles out of it, but sadly, Treasures of either side were impossible to destroy.

"Really don't care," answered Menagerie. "Hang it on a wall, stab people with it, use it to spread butter, whatever. Just keep it far away from me."

"You were the one who found it," Priest concurred, "and you will not be disadvantaged by its other effects. Do with it whatever you deem prudent."

Shrugging, she slipped the bag on her arm. She was sure there was something she could do with a powerful artifact like this. And if she couldn't, it would still make an excellent talking point in the sitting room. "Thanks. If you need help in the future, send me a letter, I guess?"

Menagerie scoffed. "If we need help from you, we're really in deep shit. But sure, decide you want to play again, and maybe we'll make room for you."

"Now boarding Turkish Airlines flight 1977, direct service to Istanbul."

"That would be us." Priest picked up the small suitcase resting beside his feet – Jen did not recall that being among his belongings when they arrived, or that they had carried any luggage, but she supposed they might have just purchased clothes and other belongings following their arrival – and Menagerie did the same with her blue and grey duffle bag. "Should we meet again, Queen, I do hope it will be under better circumstances."

"Try not to get yourself killed. After fighting the Turk, dying to anybody else would just be embarrassing," Menagerie added. And that, honestly, was probably the closest Jen would get to an actual farewell from her.

The pair walked off with not even a wave, and Jen watched them go with no little relief. She was glad to have them out of her country, if only because it meant that the Aurors would eventually calm down. Even if she did have a bit of fun with them along the way.


"The girl will die."

"Will she? I didn't know that. Why don't you send your precious Turk to stop her…. Oh, wait."

"You dare mock Us? The Turk was not Our only champion."

Laughter, cold and cruel. "No, not your only slave. Just the only one worth anything. If he couldn't succeed, you think your others will? I'm tempted to invite you to try. It would be amusing."

"So Nyarlathotep is not the only one of your ilk who enjoys the suffering of his followers."

"Fool. Send them, then. Let the world watch as one whore slays a god's entire army. We both know your followers are few. I dare you to cast them away. A futile attempt to salve your baseless pride."

Silence.

"No answer, O Great Golden One? I thought not. You do not commit your full strength against a single enemy, not since your worshippers' slaughter at Opis. You learned your lesson then. Better to scurry away with your tail between your legs than lose it all and be forgotten."

"We are not the only god humans forgot. You are ignored just as We are."

"Ignored? Me? Hardly. All men know me. All men fear me. All men stand in awe of me. I have more power now than I ever have."

"And yet the influence of Darkness wanes in the world of mortals."

"Does it? That's not what I see. I see men bowing to their base natures, feeding their desires in innumerable ways. Cruelty, hate, lust, greed. Let humans do as they will, and they will always, always abandon the Light to cavort in the Dark." The voice cackled. "You have lost this war. You lost the moment you agreed to use humans as our warriors. The Pact is signed and sealed, and you gave away your victory and called yourselves wise!"

"Bold words for one who stands in fear of the least of us. Even your servant hides from the gaze of Enoch's ashes, and her land remains in his stiff grip. You think she will have power there? It is not We who are the fool."

"Enoch's ashes have no power of their own. Their pets are his only influence, and in that land? That particular pet has lost the power he once enjoyed. I need only be patient."

"A slip of a girl. You have truly deluded yourself into thinking she can become a conqueror?"

"There is no place for conquerors in the mortal world any longer. That is what you fail to understand even now. No, I think my cunning little whore will do what whores do best. With soft skin and heated looks, she will seduce men into her temple, and they will gladly offer their souls for her favor. The spawn of that union will know nothing beyond what their mother teaches them, and in no time at all, a nation will hand itself over to the Darkness. You wish to know my plan? There it is. Interfere if you think you can, but be warned: the chains forced onto men will break, but those they submit to willingly they will protect with all their might."

"You would count on the fickleness of men to serve your purposes? We have no need to interfere. We shall enjoy watching your plan fail."

"Fail? It is already succeeding."


The sharp tink of metal against glass grabbed the whole school's attention, and they all looked over at the staff table to see Headmistress Marchbanks standing up. "Congratulations on making in through the last two weeks of exams," she told them, "especially our fifth- and seventh-years who survived their OWLs and NEWTs, challenging though I know it was."

"You can say that again," Ginny heard Theresa say from her other side. She nodded in agreement; she had for a while thought studying for the Potions OWL was literally going to be the death of her.

"As the staff still needs to score the rest of the exams, we're going to try to have some peace and quiet in the castle tomorrow. Yes, that means you will have your normal post-exam weekend to Edinburgh." Applause met her comment, more for the fact that she was not going to lock them away inside out of fear that the attack from the previous year would be repeated. "That is not to say that you do not need to be careful," she continued, crushing any such hopes. "This trip will be shorter than the others, from eight in the morning until two in the afternoon. We do not want an encore of last year's tragedy. Have fun with your friends, decompress, but do not wander off by yourselves. Stay in groups, preferably around adult wizards and witches. Prefects, I know you want to have fun, too, but do your best to keep an eye on your fellow students." The old woman looked around the room with hawk-like eyes. "Remember. Two o'clock. Do not test me on this."

That sucked all the excitement out of the room, and a few minutes later everyone left the Great Hall on the way to their common rooms. Ginny was halfway up a flight of stairs before she turned to look at her friends, an expression of exasperation plastered onto her face. "I forgot something downstairs. Go on to the common room. I'll be there in just a minute."

The other fifth-years believed her lie, and she ran down again. Past the Great Hall, though, and towards the dungeons. Thankfully, she did not have to go far into the Slytherins' territory to find the person she needed to see. Malfoy sent her a superior smirk. "Thought you'd want to talk after that bit of news."

"Don't you ever get tired of being smug?"

"Not really, no."

She shot him a frustrated glare. "Fine. But what am I going to do? Danny and I talked about going somewhere nicer for an early dinner, and I just know he's going to ask me to be his girlfriend. He just needs a push. Some random pub isn't romantic enough to do that."

"So you want something romantic in short order. Do I look like a genie that will just snap his fingers and grant your every wish?" Despite his tone, his grin told her he had exactly what she needed. He reached into his bag and rummaged around in it before pulling out a cream-colored card. "How does lunch at the Fox Rampant sound?"

It wasn't the nicest place he could have chosen, but it was a definite cut above casual dining. She took the card from him only to find that the reservation already had her name written on in it fancy penmanship. "How?" she finally asked. "Every time I've needed something, you seem to have an answer for it already. How do you know what I need before I do?"

"You're a Gryffindor. You're easy to predict." He chuckled at his barb for only a moment before shrugging. "It was obvious you'd want to have a pleasant meal with Potter at an expensive restaurant while you can still hide all this from your brothers, so I set up two different dinner reservations and one for lunch just in case. It doesn't cost anything to reserve a table, and I'll cancel the others so they know not to expect you. Something like this really isn't that much of a hassle to set up, and your incredulous expression whenever I whip the answer out of my pocket makes what I do have to deal with worth it."

"I knew you were just doing this to make fun of me." His laughter at that was clean and honest, and it reminded her of their first few interactions. "I'm sorry, Malfoy."

"Sorry?" He stared at her in confusion. He also looked wary, and she cursed in her head for inflaming what had quickly become obvious as his Slytherin paranoia. "What are you sorry about?"

"When I agreed to this plan, I was sure that this was all just a game, you picking on me even if you said you wanted to help me. I didn't believe you. Even after you bought me dresses and gave me money for jewelry and makeup and everything else, I still doubted you. I don't agree with why you decided to help me," she admitted, "but you went out of your way to help me when you didn't have to, and not in some little way, either. I… I could almost think of you as a friend."

He immediately shook his head. "We aren't friends. We're allies pursuing a common goal."

Which is Slytherin-ese for friends, she thought to herself. After spending time with him over this last year, she knew that he would have no problems making friends if he would just stop putting up this aloof act all the time. Well, and if he hadn't been such an arrogant twat when he was younger and made everyone hate him. That didn't help matters.

"Fine, allies. Either way, you've helped me, and I don't know that I've ever thanked you for it." She looked him in the eyes. "Thank you. I don't know if…. I never would have been able to do this if it weren't for you. Thank you, Malfoy. Thank you so much."

He looked away and cleared his throat. "You're very welcome, Weasley. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than loiter around with a lovestruck Gryffindor in a hallway. Like watching a potion spill dry."

She sighed and shook her head. If he couldn't even handle someone thanking him without getting uncomfortable, she wondered how he would have reacted had she hugged him like she thought about doing. She still might do that, actually, provided this date turned out how she hoped it would. Giving him one last smile, she turned around and hurried up to her dorm. She had lots to do before morning came.

Running off like that meant she missed the conflicted expression that sat on Malfoy's face, one that eventually turned into determination. He, too, turned around and started walking to his dorm. "You're very welcome indeed."


Danny tried his best not to tug and scratch where the nice robes he wore were itching. His mum had taught him how to transfigure his normal clothes into semi-formal robes the previous year, which he thought was a waste of time. Then, this summer his dad had taught him the same thing, which… well, he still thought it was a waste of time, but that both his parents inpendently thought it something worth learning made him wonder. Now that he was off on an impromptu date in a nicer restaurant with Ginny and had to make due with his wand and what he threw on for a casual day wandering around town, he realized they might have known what they were talking about.

Maybe.

Not that he was ever going to tell them that.

Ginny handed a card to the maitre d' or whatever he was called when the restaurant wasn't French, and the man barely glanced at it before waving a straw-haired waiter toward them. Looking at the other diners, he knew that they were underdressed – him more than her, admittedly, but she had not transfigured hers at the last minute – but thankfully the adults there ignored them as they walked to a table in the middle of the room. The young waiter pulled out a seat for Ginny, and then he lit the lone white candle on the center of the table before walking off.

"Thank you for agreeing to this," Ginny said after a long, awkward moment. "I know it isn't how things are done normally, but…."

"No, I get it. And you're right. We might be doing all this backwards, but I like how it's turning out." The beautiful girl smiled shyly at him, her face lighting up in the flickering candlelight. He laughed. "There have been days that I've almost thought you were going to ask me to be your boyfriend and not the other way around. That or do something public like kiss me in the middle of the common room."

Ginny blushed brightly.

"But there are some things that should be done the traditional way." The candle flared with his words. "Ginny, will you be my girlfr—"

An earth-shattering roar slammed into him with all the force of an angry mountain troll.

He blinked a couple of times, trying to remember where he was and what just happened. It didn't help that his ears were ringing the same way they had the previous year, which he now knew meant for sure that his eardrums had ruptured once again. He groaned when he tried to sit up, his throat vibrating but the actual sound of his voice missing. Turning his head to the side, he found the rest of the people in the restaurant not paying any attention to… was it an explosion? It had to be. And he thought he was deaf right now!

Wait. Was anybody but him moving?

He looked over to find Ginny also laying on the ground, though she was holding her ears and trying not to retch. Movement from the crowd, finally, and he glanced up.

No, that wasn't motion. It was just the illusion fading away.

He and Ginny were the only living customers. Most of the tables were empty, but those that were not held only corpses. Men and women with their throats cut or holes through their chests or just slumped lifelessly in their chairs. Before he could freak out too much about being surrounded by blood-soaked tablecloths and dead bodies, something hit him yet again and flipped him over onto his back.

The blond waiter from before stood over him, dressed in a black robe and sneering nastily, as were several of the man's friends. But what really took the prize was the witch at the front of the group, one with messy black hair and purple eyes. Bellatrix Lestrange gave him an evil smirk.

Then all he knew was pain.


So now Malfoy's plan should be clear. Make Ginny depend on him for all her romantic needs until she goes along with whatever he suggests, and then he knows where Ginny and, more importantly, Danny are going to be on a given day and time. Off goes that information to Auntie Bellatrix, and, well, this happens. I don't think he expected her to slaughter everyone in the building, but that's what you get when you involve Bellatrix in anything.

It also avoids what was his biggest weakness in canon. No, the reason Malfoy couldn't kill Dumbledore wasn't because he was actually a good boy in a bad situation. He just couldn't bring himself to do the deed directly. Much like the poisoned mead (which was actually a rather good plan and could have succeeded were it not for Slughorn being lazy and a mite gluttonous) and the cursed necklace, this lets him avoid getting his hands dirty.

Silently Watches out.