A Cruce Salus:
Chapter 10
And if you see this world as ugly and thin / Then you'll be so cruel to the touch, you'll leap out the body you're in / To a land of angry soil, that swallows boys and coughs up men
I know that when it's over we'll be holding one another / We only ever wanted to feel real /Two years of taction only teaches you to fight / We only ever wanted to try
With our hands, and our fists, muscles, skin, thumb, and bone / We never grew up, we were cut from the stone / That holds your body and soul / We are all just sinking for something
(( Mothers, Sisters, Daughters & Wives by Voxtrot ))
Ginny Weasley was furious.
And Ginny Weasley had rarely been furious.
Of course, there were little things that got on her nerves, but she took pride in the fact that she'd hardened herself enough to never let the inconvenient emotion known as anger affect her decisions more than it absolutely needed to.
But, for repetition's sake, Ginny Weasley was furious.
As she stared apathetically toward the four who had so rashly invaded her private thoughts, it was like a part of her she hadn't known existed sprang to life. It urged her to scream, throw a fit, grab one of them by the shoulders and demand to know why they'd even begin to think they had a right to invade something so personal as her very mind.
She was mad at them for trespassing.
She was mad at them for being so rash.
But most importantly, she was mad at herself.
She was mad at herself for being so stupid as to leave something so compromising in plain sight; for letting her emotions get the best of her; for trusting herself to get to know people she'd waited so long to know, only for fate to rear its ugly head and callously remind her that her life would never go the way she wanted it.
And so it seemed, Ginny Weasley was mad at the world. But Ginny Weasley was the weak human cowering behind a stronger identity. That stronger identity was Samara Davidson, and Samara Davidson was cut from stone. She did not cry; she did not feel; she did not get angry. Ginny Weasley was the emotional little girl that saw fit to so inconveniently appear during her private moments of insecurity. Ginny Weasley was not to be shown in public.
And so it was lucky for the Marauders that it was Samara Davidson, and not Ginny Weasley, that they were faced with.
"Samara--" Remus started.
"You have no idea.. you have no idea what could've came of this little rendezvous," she relpied stoically.
"We didn't mean--"
"Please spare me your excuses, Lily. Or are you going to describe to me how an invisible someone forced you at wandpoint into that Pensieve?"
Even James and Sirius, who were normally aces with their alibies, looked more like deer caught in the headlights than their normal suave selves.
Samara sighed wearily, glancing to the corner of the room where the Invisibility Cloak lay deceptively concealed. To most, anyway.
"An Invisibility Cloak? Well, I suppose that rules out the 'We were just stopping by for some tea' excuse."
"Okay," James conceded, "so it wasn't an innocent nighttime stroll. But I swear to you - we swear to you - if any of us had known what sort of memories were in there--"
Samara cut him off. But she didn't cut him off with a biting 'You should've thought of that', or any sort of brash remark; she cut him off by laughing.
"You only got to what - the third memory? Please, sweetheart, if you think that was bad, you've got something else coming. You might realize, but the four of you are so lucky I got here when I did. The things you would've seen.. do you realize that at one point, you would have had to watch myself being repeatedly raped and beaten? Do you?"
Lily looked disgusted by this revelation, and the boys had enough decency in them to look ashamed.
"And that's not even the worst one. Things I refuse to talk about, even mention.. And what did you even expect to find here, anyway? What burning questions did you want answered so badly that you made the decision to snoop around for it instead of asking me? Well?
"We're sorry, Professor," Sirius offered quietly, reverting to the subtle formality of addressing her as his superior.
"Not as sorry as I am," she deadpanned.
"I guess this is the part where you punish us?" Remus inquired expectantly.
His professor glanced at him unnervingly. "You're right, Remus. This is the part where I should punish you.
"Get some sleep, you lot. We've got class together tomorrow."
Sirius looked up in shock. "You're.. not going to punish us?"
"As dissapointed as I am, no, Mr. Black. I'm not going to punish you." God knows I want to. "I have a feeling that, had I been in your position, I would've done the same thing." That is, before I grew up.
The group hadn't moved, perhaps thinking she would change her mind and expel them. Deciding it wasn't enough of a hint, she added, "Perhaps I should take away a few points for being out after curfew.."
As they dissapeared, so did the emotions that were quintessential to the survival of Ginny Weasley.
Samara Davidson enjoyed a dreamless sleep that night.
Harry Potter was furious.
And Harry Potter had rarely been furious.
Of course, there were little things that got on his nerves, but he took pride in the fact that he'd hardened himself enough to never let the inconvenient emotion known as anger affect his decisions more than it absolutely needed to.
But, for repetition's sake, Harry Potter was furious.
As he stared apathetically toward the man responsible for so much heartache, it was like a part of him he hadn't known still existed sprang to life. It urged him to scream, throw a fit, grab him by the shoulders and demand to know why tearing apart other people's lives caused him so much sadistic pleasure.
He was mad at him for hurting her.
He was mad at him for taking her.
But most importantly, he was mad at himself.
He was mad at himself for being so stupid as to allow someone that important to him to be put in the line of fire; for trusting himself to get uncharacteristically close to her, only for fate to rear its ugly head and callously remind him that letting people in usually led to their destruction.
And so it seemed, Harry Potter was mad at the world. But Harry Potter was the weak human cowering behind a stronger identity. That stronger identity was Aries Despero, and Aries Despero was cut from stone. He did not cry; he did not feel; he did not get angry. Harry Potter was the emotional little boy that saw fit to so inconveniently appear during his private moments of insecurity. Harry Potter was not to be shown in public.
And so it was lucky for Adonis Parker that it was Aries Despero, and not Harry Potter, that he was faced with.
"I'll ask you again, Parker," he whispered in a deathly quiet tone, "Where is she?"
The battle Ginny Weasley had disappeared from had ended shortly after her final duel, which Aries' continous efforts had finally hinted was against one Adonis Parker. Dead, they were calling her, or worse. Most couldn't understand why the great Harry Potter refused to look into cases more important than such a fruitless one, but then again, most couldn't understand the great Harry Potter at all. It was something he couldn't explain, but it was something he couldn't abandon. Ginny was still alive out there, somewhere, he knew it. He could feel her. And he wouldn't give up on her.
"You're asking the wrong guy," Parker spat.
Magically bound to a chair in what was left of the old Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, he'd had no choice but to answer. When the Savior of the wizarding world's wand is pointed at your throat, it's usually best to be as cooperative as possible.
"Well, that's a shame, isn't it?" Harry asked, humoring him, "I guess I've got the wrong guy. Is it possible that someone else with your name and your face got bleeding smashed and went on to brag about how he defeated the one and only Ginny Weasley? We've got informers, Parker. Bit careless of you, yeah?"
Of course, every word of that was a lie, but a smug look crossed his face as a terrified one crossed his opponent's. They were all the same, Death Eaters - feed them some shit story about how screwed they are, or how Voldemort can't help them anymore, and they'll come running like dogs to their masters.
It was the same technique he'd used to lure them to the ground zero that Hogwarts had become. Once Voldemort's army was on his territory, he'd cornered the man he was looking for outside his old classroom and dragged him inside.
Sort of ironic, really - he'd been told to expect situations like these in this very room, but he'd never been told to expect the situations to be in this room.
"So I'll make you a deal. You tell me what happened - what you did - and I just might spare your pathetic little life."
"You're deluded," Parker sneered, "You think you're so high-and-mighty, like you're so much better than the rest of us, but you just admitted to me that you'd kill me and take pleasure in it. Doesn't put you very many notches above most Death Eaters."
It was obvious that Parker expected him to go off on a tangent about how what he did was for the Light, and therefore was justified, but he said something instead that surprised him.
"You're right.
"But that's not what we're here to talk about. Now, this is how it's going to go down. You give me what I want, or I pour this Veritaserum down your throat. What's it going to be? The easy way, or the hard way?"
"The hard way," he concluded after a long pause of silence for mock-thought.
Seemingly knowing his defeat, Parker didn't even attempt to escape the potion Harry poured so carefully down his throat.
"Alright, now let's get down to business, shall we? Is Ginevra Molly Weasley alive?"
Everything depended on this answer, everything. What if--
Aries pushed the Harry-esque worries to the back of his mind and waited for Parker to answer.
"S'far as I know.." he slurred.
Harry mentally sighed in relief. Aries continued.
"What do you mean, 'so far as I know'? You don't have her?"
"No."
"But you did something to her."
A grin. "Yeah."
"What spell did you use?"
"It doesn't have a name.."
An experimental spell? That could prove to be worrying - if the spell was still in the early stages, many aspects could still be extremely unreliable, depending on the adequacy of its creator. Or, worse - it could be not an experimental spell at all, but an unknown one created by Voldemort or his high-ranking Death Eaters. Their new spells were kept as secretive as possible, not even spread to the lower ranks of Death Eaters. The uncertainty of what spell was going to be thrown at you gave Voldemort and his followers the advantage of the Light's uncertainty of how to prepare. Plus, it didn't hurt that a spell can't be classified as illegal if the Ministry wasn't aware of it.
"What was the incantation?"
"Porro Abrumpo."
"And what does it do?"
"I don't know."
Frustrating, but not so unusual. Voldemort's lapdogs were often unaware of, or foggy on, the purpose of the spells they were instructed to use, so as to prevent the Light from obtaining information in situations like these.
"Well, what were you told it would do?"
"I was told," he answered with an air of satisfaction, "that it would get rid of her. Forever."
Well, that was worrying. It was no secret that Voldemort wanted Ginny out of the way. But if it worked so well on her, why didn't he use it on Harry? Unless--
"The spell got rid of her, but didn't kill her?'
Parker shrugged. "They didn't tell me much."
"Of course," Harry said, more to himself than anyone else, "and Voldemort reserved it for her because he wants make sure I'm dead, not just gone."
"Are you almost done?" Parker asked aggravatedly.
"Almost. Show it to me."
"And, why would I do that? I'm under Veritaserum, not Imperio, remember?"
"You'll do it," Harry told him dangerously, "because if you don't, I'll use it on you."
That did the trick. Fear flickered upon his eyes, only for a moment, but it was fear all the same. But as he was handed his wand, something else flickered upon his eyes. Triumph.
"Oh, I'll show it to you, alright. Porro Abrumpo!"
A flash of blinding blue light shot out of his wand at the desk to Harry's right, but at the last minute diverted its course directly to Harry himself.
A sensation of being vioently ripped from where he was standing by ungodly forces consumed him. The strange feeling knocked him to the ground with the force of a thousand hurricanes.
"Probably should have seen that coming," he remarked, straightening himself up and watching the last of the blue dissapear from his vision.
Standing next to him with an expression of shock was the very woman he'd spent so many hours searching for.
He definitely didn't see that one coming.
Author's Note: I'm back! Sorry it took so long, but at least this is a good way to kick off 2007, right? .. Right?
Anyway, I'm quite proud of it, so I hope you are, too. Aries is the Greek god of war, and despero is Latin for "to be without hope, despair; despair of, give up". So, Harry's alias roughly translates to "God of war in a world without hope".
Thanks for reading! Reviews make me work faster ;