Truth will rear its ugly head
Now that the fight is on
Cruel and brutal words you said
Then you say you're done
You're way too smart for your own good
To let you have your fun
You've walked on me, it's understood
You've run my life too long
I know that's you haunting me
Take what you want
I won't give you anything
Take what you want
I don't owe you anything
I know I'm not wrong
I know what you want from me
Take what you want
December 30th 3AM, Friday
Charles Smith's cottage, Brazil
Barely a sound was made as thousands of red-robed figures surrounded the small cottage. They fell into neatly filed lines and then stayed completely still, their attention firmly fixed on their target. We raced through the house, peering out each window, hoping to find some way of escape.
"Bloody hell!" Draco hissed angrily as we finally stopped in front of the living room window and stared out into the night, "There must be at least three or four hundred."
"About three hundred and fifty by my count," Khalida offered and Draco glared at her in return.
"Well, there must be something…" I was cut off by the sight of red making way for black.
"Someone's walking through the crowd," Charles said in a hushed whisper.
"Well no shit," Draco exclaimed sardonically. "And who do you think that might be! Perhaps…perhaps it's Sandy Clause!"
"Draco," Khalida warned as she placed a hand on his shoulder. He pushed her away and turned away from the window.
"Do you know who they are?" Draco asked, waving his finger wildly in the direction of the group outside. "Those are his fucking elite soldiers out there. My father told me about them."
"What?" I questioned dumbly.
"His elite soldiers," Khalida repeated, "They would be comparable to The Brotherhood."
"O no no no!" Draco replied loudly, "Those…those things out there are nothing like the bloody Brotherhood."
"What's the difference?" asked Charles.
"The difference is that the Dark Lord never used them in the war," Khalida replied calmly. "No one really knows why and until now I'd never even seen them. I'd always thought it was a rumor."
"They were being trained," Draco added warily, "That's why he never used them. They were only children during the war. Some of them were handed over freely by Death Eater parents but many were kidnapped and a few are even muggle-born wizards."
"They're completely loyal to him," Draco continued in a eerie whisper, "They would jump off a cliff if he ordered them to."
I watched the red-robed figures as they shifted out of the way to let the man in black pass. A split-second later they were back in their original position as if they'd never moved an inch.
"Like chess pieces," I commented thoughtfully.
"What the hell are we going to do now?" Draco questioned in a fearful whisper.
"Well, we have to find a way to get Jenny out of here," Khalida replied. Draco nodded in reply while Charles appeared thoughtful.
"Can you check and see if the anti-apparition wards are still in place?" he asked Draco.
"They are," I responded without thinking. Everyone gave me questioning looks. "I can feel the magic in the air," I explained.
"You can what?" Draco asked in confusion.
"I can feel the magic," I reitterated, "It's feels like there's a warm blanket covering us."
"And how in the world do you know that the anti-apparition wards feel like that?" Draco questioned.
"I don't know," I replied thouthfully, "I guess I just do."
"What if we find..." Charles began but I interrupted him.
"Draco, you get the Firebolt and fly Charles out of here," I commanded. Draco's mouth fell open in shock while Charles and Khalida just stared at me with matching dumfounded expressions.
"Are you insane!" Draco exclaimed wildly, "Do you have any idea who that is out there? If you think for a moment..." In a moment I was in front of Draco, clutching his shirt collar in a tight fist.
"I know exactly who is out there," I hissed dangerously, "or do I have to remind you that I have been sharing the memories of that bastard. That's why you have to get Charles out of here. It's not me that snake faced bastard is after at the moment, it's Charles."
"But what would he want with me?" Charles questioned. I closed my eyes and began to sift through the memories held there, sorting out the ones that I knew to be mine from the ones I shared with my father, and finally coming to those from Voldemort himself.
"He hasn't found the book," I responded flatly, "He's angry about it and he now thinks that Charles might know where it is."
"He knows about the vault," I continued while opening my eyes and turning toward Charles, "but he doesn't know exactly what he needs to get into it, only that it requires blood. I think he assumes it would be your blood."
"Why doesn't he just break into Gringotts and steal what's in the vault?" Khalida wondered.
"He's not strong enough," I replied.
"The defences at Gringotts are only surpassed by those at Hogwarts," Draco added, "There aren't many people strong enough to get past those."
Draco's comment sparked something in the back of my mind. There was a book I had been reading while at his apartment about my father's first year at school. I was sure it had mentioned something about a break-in at Gringotts.
"What about my father's first year of school?" I questioned, "Didn't someone break in to Gringotts to get the Sorcerer's Stone?" Draco fidgeted nervously under my questioning stare. I turned my attention to Khalida who only shrugged in response. Charles was giving Draco the same puzzled look that I was.
"What is it Draco?" I asked, "What do you know?"
"Well, there's something you should know about that," Draco began with a loud sigh, "It technically wasn't an attempted robbery in the truest sense of the word."
"What?" Charles, Khalida and I both questioned at the same time.
"Well, you see, the thing is..."
"Just tell us Draco," I broke in angrily.
"It was a trap. The whole thing was setup to draw the Dark Lord out," he replied quickly.
"And draw my father in," I added warily and Draco nodded in reply.
"But who would do such a thing?" Charles asked.
"Dumbledore," Khalida hissed, her long, white fangs reflecting the moonlight while her dark red eyes took on an unnatural glow.
My own eyes must have changed to red for a moment because Charles suddenly backed away from me, nearly tripping over his feet in the process. I placed a hand over my eyes and pushed my anger down as far as it would go. Being angry at Dumbledore for something he did years ago wasn't going to help me now. Instead I promised myself that I would deal with him later.
"You two need to go now," I told Draco as I pushed him toward the broom leaning against the wall.
"I'm not leaving you," he replied, pulling away to stand with his arms firmly crossed in front of him.
"I'll take Charles," Khalida broke in, "and then I'll come back with some friends."
"You better have a lot of friends," Draco commented while Khalida and Charles mounted the Firebolt.
"Not as many as I used to have," Khalida replied, "but the ones I do have are extremely useful."
"We could always call on the Brotherhood for help," Draco offered.
It was an idea I had been entertaining in the back of my mind but each time I nearly resigned myself to call upon them my thoughts would shift to Tonks laying on that hospital bed with Remus weeping over her still form. Then I would imagine Ginny in that same position. I just couldn't do it.
"Only if we really need their help," I replied.
"Jenny!" Draco exclaimed, "There's a horde of Death Eaters outside and the Dark Lord himself is coming to pay a visit. It looks to me as if we'll definitely need their help."
"I'll be back soon!" Khalida called out over our bickering. "Draco, I need you to give us an opening to get out of here."
"An opening?" Draco asked in confusion. Khalida pointed up at the ceiling and Draco nodded in understanding. "One opening coming right up."
"Reducto!" Draco yelled loudly as he waved his wand at the ceiling above Khalida.
As the living room was blown upward and outward Khalida pushed up off the floor. She and Charles were gone in seconds. The red cloaked figures outside shot spells in an attempt to stop them but the explosion had created a well timed diversion to aid in their escape.
"Now what do we do?" Draco asked as he turned to give me a curious look.
"The only thing we can do," I replied simply, "We stall as long as possible."
"Stall?" Draco questioned.
"From my dreams I know that Voldemort is a little long winded," I explained, "Maybe we can keep him talking and give Khalida enough time to return with help."
"Come out my young snake," the figure in black called out as he reached the front of the mob outside. From the confused look on Draco's face and the slight hissing noise behind each word I could tell that it was Parseltongue.
"He's calling me out," I explained to Draco.
"So what do we do?"
"Well, would you rather be stuck in a house with him or out in the open where we have a million to one chance of escaping?"
"How about neither?" Draco questioned hopefully.
Draco and I walked to the front door hand in hand. He gave my hand a light squeeze before putting one hand on the door knob. I squeezed his hand in return and took a deep breath before nodding to him to open the door.
The night air seemed stale and oppressive. There was no wind, not even a small breeze. Everything was silent and still. The ocean of red around us appeared even more impressive and threatening than they had when we viewed them from inside the house. One lone figure in a plain black hooded cloak stood facing us in front of the large army. The cloak did not stir as we came to stand on the porch just above the top step leading down to the ground.
"How ironic," the hooded figure commented while gesturing with one hand at Draco and I, "that you, my young snake, should pick a Malfoy to stand by your side."
"Draco stands next to me as a friend," I replied angrily, "not a servent." I noticed the hand coming out of the robe was not white and snake-like as I expected it to be, instead it was a pale tan color.
"Who are you?" Draco questioned curiously. The man in black turned his attention toward Draco and the hood shook as if the man was chuckling.
"Both of you know exactly who I am."
"It can't be..."
"O, it is young Malfoy," the voice broke in.
"But Potter defeated you," Draco sneered, "Potter defeated the Dark Lord!"
"You are correct," the hooded figure replied, "Harry Potter did defeat the Dark Lord." Two smooth, tan hands came up to grasp the edge of the hood and slowly it was pulled back. "And this is what is left of me after that defeat."
"Charles Smith," I stammered dumbly.
It was the older version of Charles Smith, the Smith that had told me of my father's will. The Smith who had tricked me into thinking he was almost a friend to my father. He was Voldemort.
"But then why?" I asked in confusion.
"Why what Jenny?" Draco questioned as he turned to look at me.
I kept my eyes locked firmly with Voldemort's. "Why would you tell me about my father's will? Why would you tell me about the trunk? Why did you help me find out who my father is?"
"My dear, sweet Jenny," he replied with a chuckle, "I have been helping you along a path of my chosing. I will admit there were a few detours along the way but in the end you helped me more than I had ever dreamed possible." My eyes widened in stunned horror while Draco took a step forward.
"Shut up you bastard!" Draco yelled loudly.
Within seconds the red robed figures standing to the left and right of Voldemort moved to stand by his side. Each one of them held a plain, black wand out in front of them and each was directed directly at Draco.
"Draco," I whispered in warning.
Draco didn't stand down. Instead he advanced and began shouting. "You ruined my life you fucking half-blood!"
The brown eyes of Charles Smith were suddenly replaced with snake-like red slits. Voldemort did not pull out his wand or make any more other than a small nod. The Death Eaters standing next to him gave no hint that they understood the silent command so it was even more of a surprise when ten red lights came flying toward us.
Draco pushed me out of the way and took the full force of the incoming spells. All ten stunning spells hit him directly in the chest and he fell to the ground with a small thud.
"That's much better," Voldemort said with a small grin, "Now we can converse in peace."
"Stay away from me," I replied shakily while crawling along the ground toward Draco.
Voldemort jerked his head backward and the red robed Death Eaters immediately fell back into file behind him. I gave him a puzzled look before turning my attention back to Draco's prone form.
I pushed Draco's blonde hair out of the way as I checked for any life threatening injuries. His pulse seemed normal and he was still breathing. I sighed in relief and then grabbed his wand before standing to face the Dark Lord once again.
"You know that wand won't work for you," Voldemort stated while shaking his head slowly.
"What do you want from me?" I hissed angrily. The Dark Lord spread his arms out in something akin to a gesture of apology.
"I wish for nothing more than to see you fulfill your destiny."
"My destiny?"
Ignoring my question he began to pace back and forth in front of me. Painful memories of my father pacing in the same way suddenly popped into my head. I shook my head forcefully to push the memories away. It would do no good to compare the monster in front of me to my father.
"But you are not yet ready," he continued, "and I am not ready." Voldemort turned toward me and gave me a calculating look. "That is why I need to know what secrets your father and his alchemist friend are hiding."
"I don't know," I mumbled under my breath.
"I know you speak the truth," he replied, "That is why it is the alchemist I seek. If you tell me where he is then I will let you leave."
"Why are you doing this? What do you want from me? What is my destiny? What is this all for?" The questions escaped me without a second thought. There were so many things I wanted to ask. So many things I needed to know.
"Why am I doing this? I'm not doing anything except helping you find your way. What do I want from you? I only want you to do what you were created to do. What is your destiny? Your destiny is to bring an end to all of this." He paused a moment and I waited for him to answer my last question.
"As to what this is all for," he began, "That should have been something your father told you long ago."
"Is it because you're a Slytherin and he's a Gryffindor?" I asked, remembering back to what Dumbledore had explained to me. Voldemort began to laugh as if I'd said something very amusing. "What?"
"Slytherin and Gryffindor," he responded after finally restraining his laughter, "You must have been speaking to that old coot of a headmaster. The connection between myself and Harry Potter is much deeper and older than Slytherin and Gryffindor. Our bloodlines knew one another before Slytherin and Gryffindor even existed."
"But..."
"Ask yourself something Jenny," Voldemort interrupted calmly, "Every action, event and major milestone in the lives of Tom Riddle and Harry Potter were created by the wizarding world. All of them had to do with magic, the magic of witches and wizards."
"But you have to remember something," he continued, "Harry Potter is as I am, nothing more than a half-blood. So what of the other half?"
I gave him a puzzled look. "What do you mean the other half?"
"Potter's mother was a muggle-born," Voldemort explained, "while my father was a muggle."
"So what does that have to do with anything? What does that have to do with magic or the wizarding world?"
"Nothing," the Dark Lord responded simply, "It has nothing to do with the wizarding world." I continued to give him a confused look. "If there's one thing I've learned by living as a muggle," he said slowly, "it's that not every miracle or tragedy revolves around the wizarding world."
"I don't understand," I growled in frustration.
"There are bloodlines and magics that existed long before the wizarding world," he stated, "Ancient bloodlines and ancient magics, before magic even had a name."
"You're saying the connection between you and my father has to do with your muggle ancestors?"
Voldemort shook his head and flashed me a wry smile. "That's not what I'm saying at all Jenny. I'm surprised that someone who was raised as a muggle would think as one who grew up with magic would think."
"Just give me one straight answer dammit!" I shouted angrily as I fell to my knees, "Just tell me what the hell you're pushing me to do!"
"I'm not pushing you to do anything Jenny," the Dark Lord replied as he walked toward me. The closer he came the more my scar began to ache until I clamped one hand over it to try and ease the pain. "Everything that's happened and everything that will happen was completely up to you."
"Leave me alone!" I cried out as blood began to run from my scar into my eyes, "Please just leave me alone!" Instead of stopping or backing away he took a few more steps forward to kneel down next to me.
I whimpered as he pulled my hand away from my scar and then cried out in pain as he traced it with his forefinger. The pain was like nothing I'd ever felt before and I wondered if he was actually cutting my forehead apart.
"I know you can feel it Jenny," Voldemort said with a hint of sadness in his voice, "The darkness within you is itching to be released into the world. And when that happens my ancestors and I will finally be able to rest."
Big black spots began to appear in front of my eyes and I could feel myself slipping away. A shout sounded from somewhere behind me but I wasn't able to look back to see who had made the noise.
"I will destroy you, you bastard," I hissed as Voldemort began to stand.
He looked down at me and for a moment a look of pity was written on his face. "We are connected by friendship, not hatred. Hatred destroys, friendship survives."
The world swam away from me just as the first vampire flew down from the sky to attack one of the Death Eaters. I escaped the chaos that errupted by losing conciousness.