A/N: New chapters soon!
Leave a short note if you like the story; tell me what caught your interest or what bothers you about the style. Are the chapters too short?
Chapter Four: Not According to Plans
The Dark Lord was satisfied with the powerful display of his magical prowess when the witch writhed and screamed like under the Cruciatus for several minutes as magic picked at her protections, her vows and magical promises. The markings appeared on her skin again, this time in the blackest of blacks, before the symbols swirled and seemed to be flushed from her skin in a torrent of black ink that spilled on the ground inside the magical circle drawn around her. The first part of the ritual was done – her protections removed for a short while in order for the potion to do its work and isolate her connection to the Temple.
Everything seemed to be going according to the description in the book – a myriad of colours appeared in flashes and spirals as the magical web covering her was being unravelled. A spelled quill was busy writing down the recognized incantations and symbols. A powerful magical bond that was isolated in a form of a glowing spiral around her body made Voldemort hum in pleasure. This was what he was searching for – a major magical line. The book said it demonstrated vows to a deity. No doubt the connection to the Temple would soon be revealed. Then the first anomaly occurred.
All of a sudden the glowing spiral collapsed in a shower of sparks that disappeared through the window in a wild torrent of glowing particles. Shattered glass was thrown at the wizards that ducked in instinct as magic leashed out at them. Wide-eyed and no little shaken, they turned toward the priestess whose hands were clutching at her chest in pain.
"Oh sweet Morana, take me now!" she screamed, praying to the goddess of death to stop her torment. Jasna knew that the worst was yet to come.
Then another line was awoken and she let out long wail that made even the most cold-hearted wizard shudder inside at the pain and despair it expressed. Her eyes turned hollow, empty when one part of the latest spiral still lingering on in a barely visible line finally blinked out of existence. A flash of weak light illuminated her kneeling form that crumbled to the ground, into the pool of black ink.
Voldemort hastily jumped to the book, recognizing something was not right immediately. The ritual was destroying her bonds not only revealing them for him to exploit! Snape too stepped closer to the magical circle, waving his wand in a diagnostic charm already, barking out orders for others to stabilize the erratic magic in the room. Time was of the essence.
"Nott! Bella! Form a circle, damn it!" he barked out.
Death Eaters who had some experience with unleashed dark magic jumped forward with their wands drawn. It was not a small amount of courage they showed by doing so – dark magic and especially strong rituals that went pear-shaped were extremely dangerous. If the Dark Lord had not shown desire to keep her alive, they would have left the room and sealed it shut until the magic would do its thing. Now, however, they had to fight it, had to save their own hides. Their goal was to erect a shield, a dome that would enclose the magic inside with the priestess whom it was focused to. The only one who could stop the ritual itself was Voldemort – the caster. He already held the book in his hands, turning the pages for the instructions that would stop or halt the process. He obviously did not expect any complications at all.
The web hovering above the priestess still flashed, strands continuing to unravel or knot together, but Voldemort paid no mind to them – he was more concerned about stopping the ritual before it managed to destroy all her connections to the Temple. She would be useless without them.
"My Lord!" cried Snape suddenly just as Voldemort seemed to have found the right incantation.
What alarmed the Potions Master was the sight of blood pouring over the rims of the silver goblet, forming a circle along the lines made by the white potion. The witch herself seemed to have collapsed, lying unconscious in the pool of black ink that slowly crept up her arms and legs while her own blood seemed to have taken on a life of its own, forming strange symbols and shapes on the stone floor. Was it only his imagination or did he really see it form a large eye?
Voldemort did not hesitate and quickly stopped the ritual with the incantation. It was just in time too or another bond might have shattered. As he bellowed out the last word, the glowing web disappeared inside her skin and the ominous dark magic disappeared through the floor into the earth where it originated from, only a small crackle along the dome evidence it was ever in the room at all. Lingering effects would be present for a long time, the space reacting to dark magic detectors and the atmosphere preventing everyone from staying too long in its presence, but that did not concern the Dark Lord. It was Lucius' house after all, not his.
Snape had jumped towards the unconscious witch as the ritual was stopped and already knelt beside the priestess, his wand taking readings when Voldemort stepped closer. "She is alive, but barely," said Snape at last and the Dark Lord closed the book with a loud snap that made Death Eaters cringe. An angry Dark Lord was a vengeful Dark Lord.
"What in Merlin's name happened?!" he barked and furiously looked around the room. It was clear someone had done something that sabotaged the ritual. He had followed the instructions and knew from his extensive experience it must have been one of his lackeys that fudged up this important spell, even though they barely participated. Unfortunately, nobody could say that and escape unscathed, so the room remained strangely silent.
"Who dared interfere with the magic?" he growled again, making his followers flinch. One cold look around the room later and a few shudders creeping down their spines, he turned his back on them.
"Lucius!" the shrill voice rang out in a command that could not be ignored.
The called wizard approached demurely, his skin appearing to be a shade paler than usual. "Yes, my Lord?" he nonetheless asked with a steady voice. Severus could imagine what his former friend thought about the entire fiasco. No doubt the proud man was appalled at the fact a dark ritual was performed in his house and on a priestess to boot. Several of Lucius' oldest ancestors were priestesses after all, as far as the legends went. Severus Snape was not sure how much of it was true, but Lucius Malfoy probably knew everything about them. The Malfoy's did brag about being one of the oldest magical lines in Britain after all.
"Prepare a guest room," said Voldemort, the chill of his words making the oldest Malfoy shudder minutely. "She will stay here, Lucius. Beware if something happens to her while under your care," threatened Voldemort and dismissed the Master of the Manor with one aristocratic motion of his skeletal hands. Malfoy bowed and scurried away through the nearest door, Narcissa following behind. Severus Snape was sure the proud wizard was gnashing his teeth at the offhand treatment, but since he was in disfavour he could not protest or complain.
"Everyone, leave," commanded the Dark Lord. Wizards and witches moved towards the door, not few quite happy to escape the irate master and the room itself. Those few who knew more about priestesses and old powers had misgivings about the treatment of the witch and were quite glad to get away as fast as possible. They were not sure if keeping their thoughts to themselves would have been an option much longer; a dangerous thing when near a Legillimens. But everybody knew their master would take revenge in the next few days. Merlin knew what would become of them and their designated places in the new wizarding world of Great Britain.
"Severus – stay," Voldemort said when Snape stood up and moved to follow them. "What is her condition?" he asked after a while when he turned to face the pale Potions Master. Snape stood at the edge of the pool of black ink, just a step from the crumpled witch. His dark eyes turned towards her as he formed his answer.
"The heart is weak," he said, "but will mend with a few days of rest and a strengthening potion. The mind should not be affected too much by the magic, I believe… I am not sure about her liver and kidneys though…"
"Is there something I need to know?" asked Voldemort as he crossed his arms. It was a sign to tread lightly, the wand in his hand a sign enough that he was still angry even though he managed to control his voice.
"I wonder what was done to her before she was handed to you, my Lord," said Snape. "I have a suspicion her condition was one of the causes to the failure of the ritual. Perhaps I should not have given her the second potion to strengthen the power of your incantation – it was too much for her body to handle."
"Explain." The command was given with narrowed eyes.
It seemed the Potions Master was afraid of uttering the truth since he moved his weight from one foot to the other, but in the end he told what the results of his readings told him in unmistakable ways, "We've poisoned her - - my Lord," he said, the latter part said almost as an afterthought.