I'm at 156 pages on my word.doc lol! Yay!

Here is the next chapter. Wow it's a lot shorter than I thought it was. It seemed really long while I was writing it. Anyway. I hope you enjoy it! Please review.

Words: 4,098

Chapter 13

Complication

The Year of Our Lord, 1234,

Yet another century has passed since my father began his records of the tainted ones. The fiend Slytherin has resurfaced, blighting Ileum Gaunt. He has damned the boy to his own sorry fate, for one cannot be live while the other survives. To be rid of this evil, both must be slaughtered: even if one is only a seven-year-old male-child.

I must confess I was rather apprehensive. Father insisted they would return even though Harare had not been under the possession… but I had hoped (for the sake of that child and my place in the Next World) that it would not be so. I had prayed for freedom… and peace.

But alas, the evil haunts us once more! Damn, vile, evil man! Nay, ghost! Less that ghost now. Parasite!

There are no sightings of his devil bride. Allya Malfoy scarcely lets her child out of doors. Yet, her child is a girl, named Casandra… she is supposedly engaged to a Black. I pity the family. He who falls from grace must be deplored, yet he whose wife drags him from grace, that is another story. Any Heir of Black, in time, will die as well. Unless Allya slips up and I can grab the child before Ravenclaw can appear. But maybe, she will not? Maybe the girl child can be spared? After all, it is not a good idea to cross a Malfoy!

Anna Dumbledore; Daughter of Excedus.

Hermione Granger sighed. In truth she didn't understand half of what was going on. Oh, she understood what was being written alright, but she couldn't understand why anyone would kill a child. Why didn't they find a way to banish the spirits without harming innocent children instead?

Ron Weasley looked up at Hermione, noticed her 'thinking face' and looked back down at his own journal again. The journal's covered a span of a century each, each were written by the Son of the Dumbledore who wrote the proceeding journal; all except the one that Hermione had just finished. Again, that was the only journal that indicated any pity towards the harmless children they attempted to slaughter. By guess, Ron would say that Ravenclaw's descendants lived longer than Slytherin's did, and therefore were 'reborn', so to speak, at twice the rate Ravenclaw was.

No wonder, thought Ron, Voldemort was insane! He tried to remember how hard it had been for him waiting three years to work up the nerve to ask Hermione out. He tried to imagine how much harder it would be to wait over half a century. He shuddered.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked worried.

"Nothing," he replied. "I'm actually feeling sorry for You-Know-Who. I can't believe it!" He shuddered again, this time with horror.

Hermione picked up another journal, written in 1334 by Anna's Son. She opened the front cover and as she was about to read the first line, someone else spoke it out loud.

"The year of our lord, 1334," the voice said. "That sounds like an interesting read. Lemon drop, anyone?" Hermione spun around and gaped at Aberforth. Ron had his wand, foolishly, pointed at the aged man.

"What are you doing here, Sir?" Hermione asked quietly. They didn't question how he had arrived in Ron's room at the Burrow. They merely assumed Molly had let him inside. In fact, Molly was unconscious on the kitchen floor, and Aberforth made sure she wouldn't remember him being here at all.

"Well," Aberforth began, stroking his long white beard; "I was rather hoping to help you in your endeavour."

"Huh?" Ron blinked at him in confusion and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"He wants to help us save Harry and kill the Hosts." She said matter of factly.

Aberforth smirked when their backs were turned. "In a way, yes, I suppose so." Hermione nodded and reabsorbed herself in the journal. "How can I help?" He asked, eyeing the trunk half filled with journals greedily. As the second Son he had no right to them. It was Albus' job to defeat the Tainted Ones, not his. But Albus was dead, and he had no Heir. As far as Aberforth was concerned now, the mantle had fallen to him. And he was not about to let two upstarts steal his glory!

"Here," Hermione said, handing him an unread diary. "Take notes, and don't fold down the corners of the pages or spill anything on them or-" Blah, blah, blah: Aberforth tuned out as she dictated to him how to not ruin his own possessions. As if he would be so ungrateful as to desecrate his forefather's own thoughts and emotions. Family heirlooms were to be cherished, the cheek of the girl to think he would ruin these prizes.

He stroked the cover of the journal he was reading.

The Year of Our Lord, 1414,

Lilith Cawl is a Host. Ileum is still alive. He is close to death and she has just begun life. Oh, what sweet irony it would be if they should copulate and the wretched Slytherin should die of heart failure from the act! It amuses me to think thus.

But no! They must not, for to do so would free the evil spirits. Why other than they take possession part way if they did not intent to gain full possession through the joining of their earthly vessels? Lilith, the devil's bride, will be taken over by a black-hearted wretch, darker and deeper in Sin that she herself is. Hell will reign on earth!

Their joining dooms us. And I will not stand back and watch as it happens.

You may wonder why I curse the child, who is yet but 2-years-old. But I assure you, there is a reason. Oseopha Cawl did not have her Daughter baptised. To do such now is punishable by the Ministry! But will they move against them? Of course not! Foolish, money hungry politicians are willing to allow evil to roam free for 30 silver pieces each!

To not be baptised is as good as telling a Muggle you are a Witch! She will be burnt, and her family and her friends, and her friends' families, and then, by association, my own friends. Then me, and my family. I will kill her first.

Aconite Dumbledore: Son of Anna.

Hermione looked confused as she read over Aberforth's shoulder. "But, Magical folk don't believe in Muggle religions."

"Not now they don't. Not since the 1600's and the Burning Times." He frowned. "Before then, they happily went to church and baptised their young, in the name of fitting in. If anyone thought you were a Witch, you showed your baptismal certificate or your marriage certificate and no one thought you were a Witch anymore. He skipped some pages in the journal.

The Year of Our Lord, 1454,

Lilith was burnt! She was the first from our village. More will follow; preferably Ileum's spawn. If not, then Lilith's child will do well enough to warm our streets during these cold nights. Young Amana Hammond, who sings like a bird, so I'm told. I wonder will she sing as she burns!

Burn Witch, burn, burn, burn, burn. It is but a prelude to the flames of Hell!

Aconite Dumbledore: Son of Anna.

Hermione trembled and looked over at Ron, her eyes wide with horror. "That's-"

"Honest?" Aberforth suggested with a twinkle in his eye.

"-Disgusting!" She finished, ignoring the old man's comment. "I need some air." She muttered and stood, making her way out of the room. Ron stood up, and without a word to Aberforth, left the room after his girlfriend.

When the door had closed behind them, Aberforth quickly gathered up the scattered journals and tucked them back into the trunk. He closed the lid and shrank it, tucking it into his pocket. With a smirk, he took hold of the Portkey Atticus Lestrange had given him, and left the room without a sound. He arrived safely in Lestrange Manor.

In the next room over, the Hosts soaked in water rich with purifying herbs, as Voldemort was currently being bathed by his equally as naked Mate. At the other side of the Olympic sized bathtub, Ryder lazily swam laps around his own half of the tub. Atticus had forbid Draco from entering the room, so Ryder was alone.

When they were all bathed, and thoroughly cleaned and purified, the three of them exited the tub. Still wet they dressed in loose white robes that were almost transparent as they clung to the wet skin beneath them. They pulled the white hoods up over their heads to hide their faces.

They entered the room where Aberforth waited. Currently he was reading out of a journal he found buried at the very bottom of the trunk. "Don't touch it," he warned Ryder as the brunette reached out for it. "It will harm anyone who isn't a Dumbledore." He raised his hand to show them a line of blood across the palm. Ryder unconsciously licked his lips at the sight, and then shuddered when he realized he was contemplating eating a Dumbledore – touching a Dumbledore.

"Shall we begin?" Voldemort asked tersely.

Aberforth stood up and, carrying the journal with him, began to take the people in the room by the elbow and pull them into position. Rose was stood at the centre of the room. To the North of her stood Voldemort, with Ryder to the South. At the East, Aberforth lit a black candle, its flame blazed white. To the West, a white candle with a black flame was lit. He stood behind the white candle. Draco was behind Voldemort, as Ryder's lover, and behind Ryder stood Lucius, as Voldemort's servant.

"Let's begin." He smirked at them.

Rose took up a dagger and cut the palms of both her hands. She held them out to the side, as if crucified, and watched silently as blood dripped slowly down to pool on the floor, forming a circle around her feet by magic.

"Most Ancient, I bid thee, open thy jaws and swallow us whole. Purge this world. Bring forth the other."

Ryder frowned as he listened to the incantation. It didn't sound very friendly, and he suddenly regretted volunteering to help out: well, being volunteered by someone else then.

The blood that had made a circle around Rose's feet began to rise, until a ring the width of two men encircled her chest. Blood kept falling from her hands to the floor, and rising up until it was at her waist. Another ring formed around her knees. These began to stretch, as if attracted to each other on a molecular level, creating a wall separating Rose from the others in the room. She screamed as the blood began to boil and evaporate until there was no more red liquid there. Instead, a large white portal had appeared.

"Go through," Aberforth ordered. "You have until the bleeding stops."

Ryder stepped forward but as he moved a dagger flew through the air and hit him in the shoulder. Aberforth laughed and jumped forward. With a shove, Voldemort fell into the portal. Unfortunately, Draco was standing far closer than he was meant to, and he was pushed through as well. As Draco's head disappeared, another dagger soared across the space between the portal and Ryder, and struck Rose. With a cry, the portal disappeared. Atticus moved at once, moving to Rose's side and removing the dagger from her heart. Ryder tackled Aberforth.

"Give him back!" The young Vampyre screamed. Lucius moved forward, wand pointed at Aberforth.

"Where did you send my Son?" Lucius ordered. "Open the portal again."

"There's no point," the aged Wizard said. "He was an accident. But nothing more, in my mind, than a casualty of war. He was not purified. The portal probably killed him." Aberforth laughed when Lucius' hand began to tremble. "Well, I don't know. Only Emmanuel ever went through the portal."

"You said you knew what was in there!" Ryder screamed, reaching out to throttle the man.

"I lied." He hissed back. "When did I ever say I was helping you? When? I help no one, but myself!" He snarled, a look of disgust twisting his features. "The Hosts must die!"

"You've never even read the real journals have you? You've been brainwashed!" Atticus sneered and shook his head, as he cleaned the blood from Rose's hands and chest. "She'll wake soon." Severus moved forward and offered the Vampyre a vial of Blood Replenishing Potion. "Thank you."

Everyone turned to face Atticus as he spoke. When their backs were turned, Aberforth jumped to his feet and dived across the floor to land on top of Rose. With a cackle, he touched his hand to the Portkey in his pocket, still holding onto Rose. They both disappeared, landing in the Burrow, in Ron's room. When he jumped, the trunk full of journals had fallen from his pocket and lay on the floor, waiting to be restored to full size. Lucius noticed it, and handed it to Atticus.

"You trusted him?" The blond asked Ryder quietly.

"No." He said back, just as quietly. "I knew he was fucking with us. Just like he was going to fuck Granger and Weasley over. I took precautions. Voldemort and I would have been safe and able to return in a week's time if something had gone wrong. Rose was under the same spell. I put it in the bath water."

"Then they'll be fine," Lucius said to himself. Trying to believe it.

"Draco wasn't in the water, Lucius. He wasn't supposed to go through, so he wasn't purified. He probably is dead." Atticus said angrily, staring at where Rose had been lying moments before.

"He isn't." Ryder hissed. "I'd know, and he is alive. We need to find Rose and get Aberforth back. I need his blood. We need to open the portal again." Lucius nodded.

"He's ok?" He said, sounding shaky.

"I think so," Ryder muttered looking away, "I hope so."

XXX

Voldemort groaned and rolled over. He felt like he'd hardly slept at all. His head was throbbing and his eyes stung and his back had a crick in it the size of the Grand Canyon. His hand moved to the side to reach for his Mate, and he pulled the body against him. Said body gave a very male sounding cry of "oi!" and rolled away from him. He peered over at the body and blinked in shock.

"Malfoy!" He said, sitting up slowly. "Why are you in my bed?"

"I'm not!" Draco crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Voldemort. "You just woke up?" Voldemort nodded. "I've been up for a while, but it hurts to move."

"We're through the portal?" Draco gave a slow nod. "It hurts because you weren't purified, I suppose. Can you move yet?"

"A little." They both stood up slowly. Looking around now, while standing up, Draco thought he recognized where they were. "We're in Hogwarts!" He exclaimed. "Maybe the portal didn't work, and I just fell funny?" He suggested hopefully. He wanted to run to Ryder and be hugged and told he was safe, and that Aberforth hadn't just very nearly succeeded in killing him.

Just then, a bell rang, and two seventh years came around the corner followed by another group of people. All of them were Slytherins. Draco grinned as he spotted Ryder standing beside Blaise Zabini.

"Ryder!" He shouted running over. He didn't think to wonder why school had started up again, when as far as he could remember they were only at the end of June.

Ryder turned to face him and sneered, before taking a step back. "Malfoy?" The brunette drawled. Draco stopped short and frowned, wondering if that was how he had sounded in first year? "What do you want, loser?" Draco blinked.

"Ryder?" He asked hesitantly, now very confused.

The Slytherin Ryder laughed. "My name is Harry you idiot." He laughed again and turned to Blaise. "You know, I often find myself wondering if he would have been worthy of us had he actually had parents!" Blaise snickered.

"Yeah, imagine being raised a Ward of the State. That Minister Riddle is a fruit loop!" The Italian drawled with a smirk.

"Well, it serves Lucius right. Even if Narcissa was an annoying bitch by all accounts, you can't blame him for killing her… only getting caught!" Harry laughed, and every one of the Slytherins in the group laughed along with him. Draco blinked back tears. This wasn't his Ryder, and he didn't like it here. "Aw, it the itty bitty Huff and Duff going to cry on me. Come here and give daddy a hug!" Harry pushed Draco up against the wall and pressed their lips together. Draco pushed at the brunette as tears really did fall over his cheeks. He wanted to go home to his Ryder!

"Come on Potter. Your mum will fit if you're late to Charms again." One of the others called out. When Harry pulled away, Draco looked at him and noticed it was Neville Longbottom, a Slytherin.

"Stupid bitch. I never asked her to work here," He sighed and moved away from Draco. He began to talk in a high pitched voice imitating Lily, "oh Harry, now your at Hogwarts we need to spend more time together. I know, I'm going to be a fuck wad and take a job there, and ruin your life!"

They started walking on. Harry turned back to sneer at Draco once more. "Oh, and a word of advice Malfoy, put out and you might have more friends. Fucking virgin!" He laughed and the others laughed as well. Draco flinched and pressed himself closer to the wall. "At least we can tease that Mudblood Granger during Charms."

"See you in Potions, Malfoy!" Blaise said, wiggling his fingers mockingly at Draco as his arm wound possessively around Harry's waist. There was a Potter engagement ring on Blaise's finger.

When they were all out of the corridor, Draco turned to face Voldemort who was hidden by the shadows. "I want to go home, please?" He sniffled, "can you take us home?"

Voldemort opened his mouth to answer when a boy in Hufflepuff robes ran him into from behind. "So sorry Sir. I was trying to avoid Potter!" He said shakily, in a tone that would have been familiar to Draco had it been spoken in a drawl instead of a shy, timid whisper. He looked around Voldemort and found himself face to face with himself, but in different robes.

"Hufflepuff?!" Draco squeaked, not having been listening to Harry's insults earlier about the House.

"Hello, you look an awful lot like me. Who are you," he flinched back, "if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm a figment of your imagination. Potter hit you on the head earlier and you're not quite right at the moment." Draco said trying to lie unconvincingly. Voldemort rolled his eyes.

"I see." Hufflepuff Draco nodded.

"Potter came past here earlier. He though I was you. He just said some things and I was wondering-" Draco started but his clone cut him off.

"Oh, Potter is always saying things like that to me. And what's worse is we were supposed to be engaged, because his parents don't get on with Zabini's. But well, they got engaged without permission anyway, because Potter hates me. And what's really pathetic, is that I love him, and he knows and, yeah."

"I thought his parents would have hated yours." Hufflepuff Draco carried on talking to this figment of his imagination as if it was an everyday ordinary thing.

"Oh, well my Father killed my Mother because she joined with Dumbledore's Dark Wizard Hunters, or something, and they sent him to Azkaban. Minister Riddle made me a Ward of the State, so I didn't have to live with Dumbledore, and I was raised by a Muggleborn couple, who live near Diagon Alley in a flat over a shop. They aren't very nice to me, but I wouldn't like to complain, considering they took me in, and all." Draco shrugged and straightened his yellow tie. "The Potters don't mind those parents because they weren't Malfoy's or Black's."

"Right, well you better head to class," Voldemort said, shoving Draco forward. The Hufflepuff looked scared for a minute, and then remembered he had a free lesson. But he dutifully ran off anyway. "So I'm Minister for Magic, and your Father is in Azkaban, and your Mother was on Dumbledore's side. That would seem to me, that Lucius was set up, and Narcissa was following Dumbledore, the newest Dark Lord."

Draco frowned. "And Ryder?"

"Never existed, because I was not around to kill his parents. He was raised as a second James Potter. A bully and a brat!" Voldemort snarled. "I would also assume, that this is a parallel universe where the Hosts don't exist. And that is why the journal was hid here."

"Because no one would know about it!" Draco said, catching on. He wiped the tear tracks off his face. "We should look for them. My bet would be the Headmaster's office."

"But is Albus Dumbledore Headmaster here?" Voldemort sighed. But they both walked in that direction anyway.

XXX

When Rose woke up she was tied to a chair. Her hands were bound behind the chair with rope that cut into her wrists but didn't break the skin and allow her to bleed. There was a dirty sock shoved in her mouth that prevented her from crying out. A tear travelled down one cheek before she lifted her head up high and refused to shed another one. Her Mate was in danger, but deep inside of her, she knew he was alive.

And in time, he would reappear before her; in a week if the portal wasn't reopened he would return on his own. The magic that bound them together, mixed with the magic in the herbal bath, had made sure of it. But she feared for Draco. He had none of those protections. But, she knew, Ryder would go to Hell and back to rescue his Mate, no matter the consequences.

She looked up when she heard the door open. Ron and Hermione walked inside the attic at the Burrow and pointed their wands at her. "This is for Harry," they said simultaneously, as if Aberforth had been training them while she slept. "Crucio!" And she screamed, and screamed, until she thought her voice box would implode. And when they finally stopped, she let Rowena take control. And when Aberforth began to curse Rowena, Rose placed her mental hands over her mental ears and hummed to herself as loudly as she could, trying to block out the sound of his laughter.

XXX

At Malfoy Manor, Lucius and Atticus were preparing reasons why Aberforth would want to kill Cornelius Fudge. The ex-Minister was already secured in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, just waiting until they had thought out the plan so they could kill him in the correct way, to match the pre-prepared evidence.

Their lawyers sat beside them in the living room pouring over documentation and, earning an outrageous amount of money, making changed that would mean an innocent – of this crime – would receive the Kiss.

"Is it clear?" Atticus asked. "He blamed Fudge for his Brother's death and sought revenge. Fudge has been given the Dark Mark, and Aberforth will be striking out at Voldemort as well as getting revenge."

"Agreed." Lucius said stonily. The man, innocent of this charge, would pay for harming his Son.

XXX

While this was going on, Ryder was hanging off the edge of the battered roof at the Burrow, trying to see in through the tiny skylight in the ceiling. He looked down into the attic and growled as he saw Aberforth dancing around singing. He listened.

"One nasty Host has lost his Mate, and don't know where to find her. Leave her alone, but she won't come home, I'll have killed and disposed of her!" By the door, Ron and Hermione trembled as they watched the madman torture the sixteen-year-old girl, who despite her best efforts, had begun to cry again.

Ryder snarled, and apparated straight to Lestrange Manor. He had to catch Aberforth somewhere else first, and get a confession before Minister Scrimgeour would dare search the home of a staunch Light supporter like the Weasleys.

Ryder trembled as he disappeared, one of Rose's screams following him home. Aberforth would pay, dearly, with his lifeblood!

XXX

Ta-da. Did you like it? Two more chapters to go: they are both planned out, but not written. The next chapter (14) hasn't even got a name yet. I don't know what to call it. Based on what you THINK will happen, what would you suggest? I've named the 15th Chapter though!

Please review me? Thanks!