Disclaimer: Don't own
A/N: Thankies to Sugar-high Pixie for reviewing the last chapter. Also thanks for any alerts and chapter was fighting me while I wrote it, but hopefully it turned out all right.
Of Blood and Magic
Chapter 24: Tipping Point
"HARRY POTTER"
"DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS"
Just from the title, Tevelle could tell the journalist had outdone herself with the level of nonsense she had managed to get printed. She continued to read, her amusement growing as she read.
The boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is unstable and possibly dangerous, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Harry Potter's strange behavior, which casts doubts upon his suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament, or even to attend Hogwarts School.
Well, it was a bit late to pull him out of the tournament, magical binding contract and all that. What would 'casting doubts' accomplish?
Potter, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill him). On Monday last, midway through a Divination lesson, your Daily Prophet reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying.
It is possible, say top experts at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potters brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You-Know-Who, and that his insistence that the scar is still hurting is an expression of his deep-seated confusion.
Tevelle fought back a laugh. Confusion? If that curse had addled or damaged his brain, confusion would be the least of his worries.
"He might even be pretending," said one specialist. "This could be a plea for attention."
The Daily Prophet, however, has unearthed worrying facts about Harry Potter that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the wizarding public.
"Potter can speak Parseltongue," reveals Draco Malfoy, a Hogwarts fourth year. "There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought Potter was behind them after they saw him lose his temper at a dueling club and set a snake on another boy. It was all hushed up, though. But he's made friends with werewolves and giants too. We think he'd do anything for a bit of power."
Parseltongue, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a Dark Art. Indeed, the most famous Parselmouth of our times is none other than You-Know-Who himself. A member of the Dark Force Defense League, who wished to remain unnamed, stated that he would regard any wizard who could speak Parseltongue "as worthy of investigation. Personally, I would be highly suspicious of anybody who could converse with snakes, as serpents are often used in the worst kinds of Dark Magic, and are historically associated with evildoers." Similarly, "anyone who seeks out the company of such vicious creatures as werewolves and giants would appear to have a fondness for violence."
Her amusement died. Some werewolves and giants were more respectable than some wizards she could name. For the hundredth time, Tevelle wondered what the reactions would be amongst the student body should her vampirism become known. She was also quite sure that a few snakes would be greatly offended with being associated with evil due to something they had absolutely no control over.
Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Some fear that Potter might resort to the Dark Arts in his desperation to win the tournament, the third task of which takes place this evening.
Once again, Tevelle wondered if Skeeter was aware that even if her accusations had any foundation, it was quite too late to decide if Harry should be allowed to compete. Why did everyone wait until the day of the third and final task to voice his or her concerns?
Tevelle shook her head in dismay. Even when she was one of them, she never understood humans. And that reminded her, "Xeven, am I spotting like the second task?"
It took a moment for Xeven to respond. "Not officially. Several of the professors will be patrolling the borders of the maze. Your assistance should not be necessary, but remain alert regardless."
"Alright."
"Also, good luck on your exam later today."
"Thanks." Tevelle responded with false enthusiasm. She had almost forgotten about her exam in only fifteen minutes. Movement to her left caught her eye, and Tevelle grimaced.
Malfoy and his followers had decided exhibiting the maturity of five year olds was a good tactic in psychological warfare against the Gryffindors and were making quite the spectacle waggling their tongues and making faces.
"Do you honestly think that you're accomplishing anything but making a fool of yourself, Malfoy?" Tevelle told them, exasperated. "Or did you assume that acting like a child would distract the other houses from their exams and make your grades seem better by comparison?" She stood up, abruptly, and gathered her books.
"Oh, and by the way," She turned back to them as she left. "Snakes don't wag their tongues. At the very least be accurate if you're going to be doing an interpretive dance representing our house mascot."
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see several Slytherins regarding her with stunned expressions. Malfoy in particular looked shocked. Tevelle allowed herself a small, satisfied smirk. Now if only she were as confident about her impending exam as she was about biology.
Well that wasn't as bad as it could have been, she told herself as she walked to lunch. And there are two more gingers seated at Gryffindor than usual… oh!
"Bill! Mol-Mrs. Weasley!" She called out, hoping her slip would go unnoticed.
"Tevelle! Charlie forgot to tell us you were finishing up your schooling at Hogwarts." Bill was standing now and Tevelle gave him a quick hug in greeting. She carefully ignored the glares this action received from the Slytherin table and curiously enough Fleur Delacour.
"Well you would have known if you had stopped by the Reserve on your way to Egypt this summer. I know Gringotts has you on a tight schedule, but you could have made time to visit Charlie at the very least."
"I'll make sure to stop by the next time I'm abroad. "
"You do that."
"How are you doing?" Molly enveloped her in a hug as well, much to the continuing surprise of the surrounding Gryffindors.
"Alright. Exams have been going well, but I'm glad they're almost over."
"Better than Ron, here I hope," Bill teased.
"Hey!"
"Anyway," Tevelle continued, "I am going to go sit down before my seat is taken. It's nice to see you two again. Good luck in the task later, Harry." With that she gave a cheerful wave, most likely confusing a great many other students, and walked over to the Slytherin table.
When she sat down, the chill in the air was palpable, though no one went to far as to actually shift away from her.
"I wasn't aware you associate with their kind." Malfoy, who was seated across the table from her, sneered.
"That's funny. I was not aware you aren't a wizard." Tevelle was careful to keep her face impassive as she regarded him over the rim of her goblet. "What other kind were you referring to? Human? Please don't tell me you're actually a plant."
Crabbe let out a rather loud guffaw at that, but managed to silence himself rather abruptly after receiving a withering glare from Malfoy.
Malfoy gaped, eyes blazing, but seemed unable to utter a comeback. Shrugging, Tevelle hastily gulped down her blood, snatched a roll, and made her escape. She was done with her exams for the day, but there was quite a bit of studying to do for her exams Friday.
"Good luck tonight," She called to a surlier than usual Krum as she passed him in the entrance hall. He favored her with a half-hearted wave.
The library was more crowded than expected, so Tevelle took her books out to the courtyard. As the light dimmed the time for the evening feast rolled around, she was feeling adept at potions, though not as skilled at herbology as she would have liked.
Feast turned out to be an apt description. Tevelle wondered if there was anyone who had been able to keep eating after the third or fourth course. Still, soon enough, Dumbledore rose from his seat.
"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."
At his words, an expectant hush settled and the four champions stood and as a group exited through the great double doors. It definitely was less than the specified five minutes when others in the hall rose to follow.
"Remember, keep alert." Xeven told her silently as they walked down to the Quidditch pitch together. Tevelle nodded made sure to pick a seat near the edges of the stand in the event she needed to slip away unseen.
Once the stands were bristling with spectators, Bagman's voice amplified by magic rang out across the assemblage. "Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin!
"Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each - Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School.
"In second place, with eighty points - Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!
"And in third place - Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"
Each announcement was met with thunderous applause, at times loud enough to disturb the more flighty residents of the Forbidden forest.
"So...on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" continued Bagman. "Three - two - one -" With that he let out a short blast on his whistle. Tevelle fought the urge to cover her ears at the shrill sound.
Another shrill whistle and it was Krum's turn.
The third and final whistle, and Fleur entered the maze.
From that point on, it was a waiting game. The hedges were too tall and too narrow for anyone except maybe those in the highest parts of the stands to see. Tevelle, near the bottom corner, decided that it probably was not even worth trying to see what was occurring.
Instead, she unraveled her vampiric senses. Four familiar pranic signatures stood out easily to her mind's eye. There were Harry and Cedric, the furthest into the maze. Krum and Fleur were oddly close together.
There was something strange with Krum's heartbeat as well. His prana fluttered rapidly near his heart, but further out it was calm and oddly controlled. He seemed to be terrified, but moved at a steady, almost sedate pace.
Fleur's heart rate spiked suddenly, accompanied by a scream. Something was wrong. There were no red sparks.
Krum was moving away from Fleur now, his pranic signature still exhibiting the same strange pattern.
"Something is strange with Krum." Tevelle sent her thoughts toward Xeven.
"There is nothing we can do at the moment. Keep watching." He instructed.
Nearly twenty more minutes passed. The yell had been faint, and were it not for her sensitive hearing, Tevelle would not have heard it at all. "What the hell d'you think you're doing?" It was Cedric. Both he and Krum were near each other, both equally terrified. Then Cedric was screaming, much as Fleur had done. Oddly enough, Krum seemed far more frightened than Cedric. It happened quickly. Harry must have broken through the hedge. Moments later, Krum was unconscious and red sparks were lighting the sky.
"One problem solved. Something still seems off though." Tevelle told Xeven. Though he did not answer with words, he made it clear he agreed.
She had almost let down her guard when, forty minutes since entering the maze, both Cedric and Harry disappeared.
"Xeven!" Tevelle called in alarm. A portkey definitely was not a part of the Task. She was careful not to appear panicked. The humans were still unaware that anything untoward had happened.
"I know. Follow and observe. The thestrals will be able to follow where the portkey went. It would be noticed if I were to leave. Do not be seen."
"Don't worry, I'll be careful."
With that, she dropped as casually as possible over the side railing of the stands. Once suitably in the shadows, she sprinted to the forest, stretching out her awareness as far as it would go.
Damn it, she cursed silently. It was just her luck that the thestral herd would be on the opposite end of Centaur territory. Briefly she contemplated running straight through. No, I have no idea how serious the situation is. It isn't worth risking war.
So she ran, skirting the edges of Centuar territory and dodging the warning arrows sent her way. When she was within hearing range she whistled and sent out a keening call to get the herd's attention. She only realized afterward how lucky she had been that her headlong rush had not sent the entire herd fleeing in a panic. No doubt they thought some monster was chasing her.
"Mirage!" She called to the stallion. He and a few others had stayed behind to defend the herd's retreat. When she neared and slowed to a stop, he pricked his ears. The rest of the herd filtered back, having not gone far, as soon as they realized she was not running from something but to them.
"I need you to take me to where that portkey," she scrambled for less specific words the horse would understand, "that flash of power, went. It's an emergency. I need to find where Harry and Cedric went. I know you thestrals are fantastic and finding people and places."
The stallion caught on quickly, kneeling down on his forelegs to make it easier for her to mount. "Thank you. I just need you to take me there as fast as you can."
Mirage bobbed his head, spread his wings, and leaped into the air.
"I hope I didn't waste too much time," Tevelle said, but the cold night air swept away her words. They were flying fast, far faster than what seemed natural. She just hoped it would be fast enough. Her gut kept twisting. Something very bad was happening.
A painful length of time later and Mirage was slowing; the number of wing beats lessening until they were just gliding in a wide circle. Down below Tevelle's eyes could pick out the gray headstones of a graveyard. That was not what caught her eye the most. On one of the few clear patches of ground was a large glowing net-like dome. Dark-robed figures prowled the edges.
"Take us down over where we won't be seen." The thestral complied, landing in the grass with a silence that an owl would envy.
"You should probably leave," Tevelle whispered, "This might get dangerous."
Mirage shook his mane, pinning his ears back.
"Fine, but stay back where it's safer. I'll go see what's going on."
Tevelle crept closer to the dome. The scent of blood was thick on the air and between the angry shouts of the dark-robed figures, snatches of phoenix song reached her ears. And suddenly it was dark, the odd luminous spell broken.
"Stun him!" A voice screamed.
No, it can't be. The voice was eerily familiar. The squirming in her gut was choking her. No no no!
There was more shouting. Spells were fired haphazardly. Someone was running.
"Impedimenta!" That was Harry. Where was Cedric?
"Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!" There was that voice again. Tevelle suddenly couldn't think, she couldn't move. He's dead!
"Accio!" Tevelle was not quite sure how it happened, but Harry was gone. Perhaps he had summoned the still active portkey.
Voldemort screamed with rage.
"Crucio." Now it was some poor death eater screaming due to Voldemort's anger.
"All of you leave me!" Voldemort ordered several torturous moments later, the worst of his rage past.
When Tevelle finally broke free of her stupor, the graveyard was deserted save for the man that alternated between haunting her nightmares and dreams and herself.
Shakily, Tevelle stood, and fought to remain still. She had not realized how near Voldemort had been. He sat now, not quite slumped, on a headstone less than a hundred yards away. At her movement, he looked up.
"I said leave!" He lifted his wand, but did not cast.
Tevelle was speaking before having been aware she had words to say. Xeven had said not to be seen, but she could not seem to help herself.
"Why, Tom?"
The last time Voldemort had waged war on the wizarding world, Xeven had been very careful to keep her away from anything even remotely related to it. It was too raw he had told her; she was still not in enough control to handle it. Now, decades later, she wondered if it might still be too recent of a wound for her to confront.
Voldemort let his wand drop, red eyes widening with shock.
"Tevelle." He hissed. It was not a question.
"Why?"
"Why? Why did I kill you?" Something minute shifted in his expression, but Tevelle was still too much in a state of shock to notice. "Because I loved you."
That broke through the shock. Anger surged forth. "Love? Because you loved me? What kind of a reason to stab someone in the gut is that?"
Why was she arguing with him? Why hadn't he attacked her? Why hadn't she attacked him? None of this made sense, but Tevelle's emotions twisted and writhed, tangling up any thoughts of the strangeness of the situation.
"It was necessary."
"Necessary? Necessary for what, Tom? This stupid immortality spell? Oh, yeah, our good friend Albus told me about that theory of his." The words were flowing faster than she could control. "And how is that immortality working out for you? Well something must have worked, if you're here now. But what's the point if you loose everything you care about, everything you are? "
Red eyes narrowed, and slit nostrils flared.
"You don't seem surprised to see me."
"It was no secret that you had turned and you did not change your name." His voice was calm now, infuriatingly steady.
"You know what? I don't even care any more!" Tevelle shrieked. Then a thought occurred and she forced her voice to relax. Tom still had not moved from where he sat. Tevelle shut her eyes. "I'm a fool for doing this, but for some reason that makes absolutely no sense, I still love you. I'll give you a choice. You can choose between me and this insane quest for power that you'll never find."
She opened her eyes to meet a familiar brown, not red, pair.
No! This is too easy. A small part of her mind screamed at her. But her voice had other ideas. "Me? Really?"
Had she breath, she would have no doubt been hyperventilating.
The niggling sense of doubt chewed at the back of her mind. This was too easy. This didn't make sense. Tom never gave up that easily. Her stomach did a strange back flip. But it was Tom. The silvery dragon pendant burned against her skin. She wanted so desperately for this to be true. There was Tom sitting there. Tom with his mop of dark hair, equally dark eyes, and that half-smirk she knew so well, sat there patiently. Oh, how she wanted this to be true, needed it to be true.
Before she was conscious of moving, she was up against him, arms flung around his neck, kissing him deeply and recklessly. Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes, trailing wetly down her cheek adding the taste of salt to their kiss. A strong hand cradled her head and neck.
It was instinctive for her to reach out mentally. Probing thoughts encountered a mind twisted and torn, roiling with hate and malice. Relief turned to disgust, the fluttering hope in her gut turning cold and solid. The hand on the back of her head tightened, controlling now, greedy.
With an angry squeal, Tevelle reared back, slapping him as harshly as her vampiric muscles would allow. The red hand print stood out starkly against Voldemort's white face. Her nails had left a thin trail of blood along his cheekbone. For once the coppery scent that reached her nose was not at all palatable. She staggered back and away, fighting the urge to vomit.
"Power it is then." Tevelle growled, suddenly feeling cold. Fumbling, she tore at the silvery chain around her neck. The clasp broke and the chain came free in her hand. "It's ironic, really." She found herself laughing, nearly hysterical, "For all intents and purposes I am the one with the immortality you crave, something that you'll never share with me." She fought for control. "You made a mistake when you killed me."
Voldemort's eyes narrowed, but he still did not speak. Nor did he stand. He did not need to.
"I'm stronger than you now." Another mad little laugh escaped her, "And I don't love you anymore." One final fit of anger and she hurled the silvery necklace, the symbol of what they once shared, at his feet.
Then she fled, as fast as her feet could carry her.
Mirage found her huddled under a tree nearly a mile away.
He nudged her with his nose, and when she was nearly unresponsive, he lay down beside her.
"You're right, we should get home. Xeven needs to know what happened." Her voice was quiet, but surprisingly serene. By all rights she should have been screaming. Instead she only felt numb.
The flight back to Hogwarts passed in a blur.
Xeven was waiting at the edge of the forest for her. Whatever calm had possessed Tevelle up until then snapped and she ran tears streaming down her face, into Xeven's waiting arms.
"I hate him, I hate him so much! I can't believe I used to trust that monster. I feel so stupid. I hate him. Why am I such an idiot? I should have known better…" The litany trailed off as feeling overwhelmed words.
She shoved images of the last hour at his mind haphazardly, not caring if they were out of order. Xeven should be able to make some sense of them.
Sobs choked her, throat closing up spasmodically around the chaotic emotions that forced their way up into her mouth. "It hurts," she wanted to whimper, but not even that small sound escaped. She felt dazed, torn, sick, and numb all at once.
She wanted to rage and rail. She wanted to break something so that it was as shattered as she felt.
She wanted to hold Tom in her arms as they once did, content with nothing more than the nearness of each other.
She wanted to tear Voldemort's pulsating heart from his chest.
She wanted to curl away in a hidden corner for the next thousand years.
Her inner beast raged with her. Vampires were loyal creatures, and for that trust to be betrayed or to be forced to abandon such loyalty…
And suddenly she couldn't breathe, her anchor to her thin veneer of humanity broken. The inner beast, the base blood lust of the vampire, broke free and she thrashed within Xeven's unyielding arms. The paralysis that had frozen her lungs spread to her limbs. Immobile now, panic set in, stealing away any last traces of rationality.
When she was aware of herself again, she and Xeven were still huddled in the dirt at the edge of the forest, just barely past the boundary of the school grounds. Xeven held her protectively, nearly cradled in his lap. The fabric of his shirt was wet with her tears and clung annoyingly to her cheek. Exhaustion pulled at her; it was too much effort to remedy the problem.
Wordlessly, Xeven expressed his affection and support. The feather light touch on her mind soothed the inner beast until it only grumbled for blood. Tevelle felt hollow, too weary and windswept for anything else.
"Sleep," Xeven told her. "You are safe now."
A/N: Please review!