Chapter 12

Disclaimer: JKR owns the Potterverse.

AN: Many thanks to septentrion and LadySunflower for betaing.

I awoke gasping, cold sweat running down my exposed skin and dampening my bedding. I could almost smell the acrid smoke that had been so cloying in my dream. Closing my eyes, I forced my breathing back to a more normal rate.

That hadn't been one of the usual nightmares that had plagued me for years. Unusual or not, it had been so vivid, like a memory of something that had actually happened. I shook myself. Grumbling under my breath, I flung back the bedclothes and climbed out of bed. I hated to be reminded of my parents, particularly anything associated with their deaths: even if that thing was a dream of a very different situation to my recollections.

After performing my ablutions, I glowered into the mirror. The restless sleep of the night before had left deep shadows under my eyes; I looked like death warmed up.

While dressing, I couldn't help but wonder how Granger's parents had died. There was no reason to suppose that it was the same way mine had. In fact, if they had, that would turn my perception of Granger on its head. Thinking of Granger, perhaps that unusual nightmare was connected somehow to her. After all, if not for Occlumency, our minds would be an open book to the other. During sleep, the strength of my mental shields was reduced, so it followed that hers also were. I chuckled maliciously at the thought that she had suffered my nightmares whilst I suffered hers.

It had been a fortnight since my decimation of the Ministry. I had needed some time to recover from Moody's attack. Granted, I had survived, but it had shaken me and almost drained my magical reserves to boot. After I was sufficiently improved, I had to check whether the death curse was still operating. It was as well that I did, for it had needed renewing.

The rest of the time had not been spent twiddling my thumbs. So far everything had gone according to plan… well, everything but accidentally bringing Granger back to life. I hadn't planned for my lover to be killed, either, but he was no great loss. Not when my plan concerning him had been proven to work perfectly. I wonder if I should worry about my sanity with my reaction to that news. Breaking into cackles of glee and bursting into tears at the same time can't be good. I don't really want to go the way of Morgana, but I suspect I've surpassed her. She wasn't a Necromancer, after all.

Without the Ministry, the Order is struggling to keep their precious Statute of Secrecy from unravelling. Terrorising and killing Muggles with their own dead served to divert the Order from my main targets. Still, my enemies were more intelligent than I gave them credit for. Someone had the bright idea to place trip wards to alert them of any trouble in their remaining strongholds. I suspect that one of the cowardly Unspeakables who hid from me in the Death Chamber let them in on some secret knowledge, for the wards were able to differentiate between the Dark magic emanating from my zombies and the Dark magic from me, which no previous ward I had encountered had done. I suspect Granger had something to do with it, for she was the one alerted, but she was not the one who had designed the wards. If she had been, they would have been used before the attack on the Ministry.

Everywhere I went, she seemed to follow. So I returned to laying low, sending the undead to do my dirty work. The Order was far less successful in stopping them, no doubt due to the fact that Granger had to possess one of her friends to atomise them – and risked sizzling said friend if she did. I had learned that much from controlling Ollivander.

With only Nagini for company, I was fast losing patience. Limited success, while still progress, was not enough to satisfy me. Whoever the Unspeakable aiding the Order was, he or she was as good as dead.

Lacking in quality sleep, my patience had come to an end. It was time to act. This time, the Order and their pet Necromancer would not stop me.

"Nagini!" I called. The snake slithered over to me. I hadn't been born with the ability to speak Parseltongue, but my Lord Voldemort had seen fit to bless me with it. As far as I could tell, it was either a virus or a blood disease. How it had been passed to Potter was a mystery, but was doubtless something to do with his precious scar. Nagini hissed, drawing my attention back to her.

"It's time," I said, extending a leg for her to wind around, undulating as she moved higher up to wrap herself around my body. I was just about to Disapparate when I paused, wondering which target to pick. Either would work, but which would strike more at their hearts? Which was more important to them, health or wealth?

Nagini squeezed me impatiently, but not hard enough to make me breathless. "You try to Apparate when indecisive. That's one way to guarantee Splinching."

Another way to think about it was whether or not I wanted to deal with goblins yet. "Hmm, wounded wizards or bloodthirsty goblins. Does sharing my existence with another mean sharing my brain, too?" I rolled my eyes. I could only hope that Granger was equally scatterbrained.

The Order had set up their newfangled wards at St. Mungo's, so there was be no need for me to make my presence known by killing off significant numbers. That didn't stop me from doing so, of course, although I did feel worrying twinges of what passed for my conscience. I tell a lie. They were more than just twinges. I had my wand raised to kill a toddler, having killed his parents seconds before. I couldn't do it. What was wrong with me? Nagini made to make the kill in my stead, but sparks flying from my wand put her off. She hissed in annoyance, slinking off to satisfy her appetite elsewhere.

Having butchered most of the occupants of the waiting room, I began to raise some of the dead. I wouldn't need many, though… the Order hadn't been the only ones to make preparations.

Seeing Nagini about to pounce on the same sobbing toddler, I called her to heel.

Next moment, the Order had appeared out of nowhere, all clustered around an empty crisp packet. A Portkey, I presume. Upon seeing me, they scattered, wands taking aim.

"Strike!" I ordered Nagini. She obeyed, taking advantage of the dumbstruck Order to attack Potter, ignoring his attempts to tell her to stop. His attempts to communicate did slow her down enough for Weasley to kill her.

Hexes began to fly at me, all of them cutting curses of some sort, judging by the way they cut my zombie bodyguards to pieces. What they were trying to achieve by that was beyond me. They knew of the death curse, after all… unless they weren't trying to kill me.

By the look on Granger's face, she was able to sense me dipping into my Necromantic powers, but couldn't detect exactly what I was doing with them. I smirked, watching her eyes rove around, trying to spot any sign of what I was doing.

Weasley shrieked in pain, clutching at his leg. That would teach him to turn his back on anything dead when around a Necromancer. My resurrected pet was now making a beeline for Potter, shrugging off his hexes effortlessly.

The smirk was wiped off my face when Snape managed to obliterate Nagini's head. Her body kept going, but without her head there was no way for her to target her prey. Potter staggered out of the way, offering a shaky thanks to Snape. The headless Nagini slithered into the nearest wall, squirming along it until she reached the legs of one of my zombies. She then proceeded to attempt to squeeze the zombie to death. Groaning, I put her out of her misery.

Feeling a strange tickle in my mind, I looked up sharply. Granger's eyes were almost as dark as mine currently were. Realising what she was doing, I had enough time to form an atomising spark to deal with the zombie grabbing me from behind. Clever of her to manage to hijack my control over one of the newly dead. Narrowing my eyes, I severed my hold over the zombies, allowing them to fall to the ground. It was time to take the gloves off. Metaphorically, I corrected myself, glancing down at my gloved hands. In order to avoid a potentially cataclysmic paradox, it was only sensible to take precautions to avoid skin contact with Granger.

Before Granger could attempt to exert her own control over the dead bodies present in the room, or before the Order managed to overwhelm my shield charm I was currently protecting myself with, I put my preparations into action.

The majority of the Order were completely taken by surprise. Granger managed to turn on her heel and almost managed to warn her friends of their danger, but was too late to keep herself from being captured the same way as the rest. Either their wands were broken or fell to the floor as their wrists went numb.

Slowly advancing, I watched with satisfaction as they found out who their captors were, twisting their heads to peer behind themselves. I mockingly reached forwards to wipe the tears from Weasley and Potter's cheeks as I passed them.

"Oh, no, Granger, you can't usurp my control over these zombies. You might as well stop trying. It won't work. I guarantee it." Producing a bit of chalk from my pocket, I crouched down to draw a pentagram around Granger. "This should keep you from interfering."

Tutting, I looked over my captives, each held by a zombie Weasley. Oh, and a zombie Malfoy, but from what I gathered, she would have been a Weasley had she lived. They should have come in greater numbers, or brought Hagrid. It would have taken several zombies to restrain him… but my earlier attack must have taken him out of the equation.

Doing a double take, I blinked. One of my captives was someone I'd dealt with at the Ministry… Stepping back to Granger, I felt a grudging respect towards her that she had managed to save Tonks.

That grudging respect didn't change anything. "On second thought, I want to make sure you see this, Granger." Pacing around the pentagram, I thought rapidly… yes, it should work without affecting me.

Exerting a little more control over Narcissa Malfoy, who was restraining Granger within the Pentagram, I had her draw her own wand and cast an elementary spell. Simple, yet effective…

"Petrificus Totalus." Her voice was hollow, as could be expected for a zombie.

As could be expected, using magic within a pentagram cancelled it out. If I had drawn the pentagram in blood, then there would have been no way to use magic within it at all. Seeing Granger unable to move other than breathe, I grinned, barely fighting back the impulse to rub my hands together. I would have time to gloat later. I would have to move fast; the Full Body Bind wouldn't restrain an enraged Necromancer for long.

I stalked closer to Granger's frozen body with impunity. No one else could stop me and they knew it. I could see that Snape wanted to try to stop me, but his struggles were futile against the restrictive hold of what had once been Percy Weasley. With mock tenderness I stroked a hand over Granger's cheek in a gentle caress. Even through the glove I could feel the heat given off in her anger.

"I wouldn't want you to miss this," I whispered, my breath ghosting over where my hand had been. I drew away, my gaze meeting hers. I had specifically chosen a Full Body Bind for another reason: the eyes of the afflicted couldn't move, other than to focus. Her eyes were darkening with fury, but fear was also present. Granger wasn't stupid. She knew what I could do with her restrained like this.

I turned back to my prey, the assembled guardians of the Light. "Who shall it be?" I asked, glancing at all of them. "I only have time for one or two." They all held their collective breath, eyeing me apprehensively. Without their wands, they could do nothing.

I summoned the spark necessary to trigger atomisation. All I had to do was flick it at one of these helpless fools and that would be it. I turned my head, smirking at Granger. I was well aware exactly of whom killing would hurt her the most. The fury in her glare had been overpowered by sheer terror. I could feel her attempting to break the curse, not that she had any hope whatsoever of success.

Turning back to my chosen victim, I launched the spark by blowing a highly sarcastic kiss. It floated inexorably towards Snape, who couldn't even dodge if he'd tried. Not that it would have done any good, as the spark would have followed him no matter what he did. It was inevitable. Or at least, I thought it was.

Dumbledore used wandless magic to blast away his restraining zombie, the late Arthur Weasley, and snatched the spark into his own clenched fist before it could touch Snape. The greatest wizard alive had natural resistance to the scattering of his atoms. But then, so had Voldemort. All it meant was that it would take longer.

When ice began to form on Dumbledore's disintegrating hand, slowing the process even further, I was unsurprised to see the Necromantic darkness in Granger's eyes. I extended one hand towards her, delving deep into my Necromantic knowledge to 'borrow' some of her power to speed up the atomising process. There had been times when more than one Necromancer existed in history as I knew it. As I was more powerful, I could claim her power to use as my own. At least, that was the theory. I should have known that it wasn't so simple with someone who shared the same magical signature as myself.

The atomisation of Dumbledore had reached his right upper arm when I had a gut feeling that something had gone wrong. I was in the act of turning back to face Granger when I was blindsided with agony. My hold over my Necromantic powers broke, the atomising spark dying and the zombies dropped to the floor.

My vision was gradually returning from the whiteout that had overcome me. I briefly saw Granger on her knees, blood streaming from her nose – much as I was, I realised – before I activated my emergency Portkey to take me to safety. Just in time, for as soon as I landed inside my refuge, I could feel my hold on consciousness failing.