Disclaimer: Neither the story or the characters belong to me, they are the property of J.K. Rowling and Parvati-Blossom. I am just a humble translator who wanted to share this amazing story with all of you.
Warning: This story contains strong language and images. We are dealing with the dark side here! Please keep that in mind.
A/N: Second to last chapter. Thank you for all your kind support. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did, and if you do, I do hope you let me know (reviews! please!)
Chapter 17
Godric's Hollow
The Potter Home
March 1st, 2005
Time: 8:00AM
The sunlight penetrated through the curtains of the room when Hermione woke up. Still half asleep, she turned to prolong her time on the bed when her hand suddenly found itself resting on another body instead of the sheets. Slightly surprised, she opened her eyes and found her husband also awake and with a smirk on his face.
"Do I look so bad this morning?" Harry joked. She laughed and leaned to kiss him.
"I am not used to your presence," she replied. "You are usually gone by now."
Harry's smile faltered slightly because of her comment and he even glanced away, a clear sign of the guilt he felt. But he did not apologize.
"I think I can be late to work today, don't you think?" He said, closing his eyes and pretending to fall asleep again.
"I think your boss will notice your absence, Harry," she followed along. He chuckled to the extravagance of the scene. "Besides, you need to give instructions to you employees about the new bankrupt company you are planning on taking over. You need to cease the moment, the euro is growing stronger."
They both laughed for a few minutes, enjoying the moment of peace.
"If I had been a muggle, do you think I would work in finances?" Harry asked pretending to be offended.
"You definitely have the money to make it," she replied leaning her head on his shoulder. "And is very strategic, isn't it?"
He absently nodded, surrounding her shoulders with his arm.
They rarely had an opportunity to be a regular couple so Hermione treasured those small gestures. If she closed her eyes again she could imagine a different reality, a stable life and without conflict. She could see Harry working for the Ministry, a member of the Wizengamot because of his ideals, and perhaps she would have joined the Department of Mysteries because, without a war, she would not have chosen to be an auror.
She sighed.
"We will return to the Fortress soon," Harry informed her. "We have managed to erase the coordinates the Ministry obtained and reinforced the shields."
"Oh," she said with a sad smile. "I had gotten used to Godric's Hollow. I thought we would remain here until I gave birth."
"For some odd reason, Tom was very enthusiastic about the construction of the new shields," he justified with a frown.
Hermione laughed to his sarcasm. Voldermort's feelings for the home that belonged to Harry's parents had not changed in the last month. In fact, he had not stepped in it since that day after the battle. He had also not been subtle in his attempts to limit the time his heir spent in the location.
"We can escape and return some weekend and leave Tom with the babies, what do you think?" Harry whispered with a mocking smile.
"I want my children to survive at least one Christmas, Harry," she replied, although the image was hilarious. "We should try it. Granpa' Voldie…"
"I hope the children don't learn that pseudonym, otherwise there won't be Fortress to protect them," the heir said with a smile.
"But Voldemort is so hard, Harry," Hermione complained, faking seriousness.
"They can always use Tom," he reminded her with irony.
She kissed him to conclude and stood up. Her movements were apparently too abrupt as she suddenly felt dizzy and had to lie down again with the help of her worried and exasperated husband.
"You need to take things calmly, Hermione."
"You try it and see how long you last," she objected, validating the mood swings theory. "I can't use magic. I can't use my element. I have to move slowly and softly. I can't lean down. I can't carry things. And above all, I have an elf watching my every step as if I was a child!"
Folly had been assigned by Filldeserp the special task of taking care of Hermione. The elf, devoted as she was to her work and her masters, had taken the order very literally, following Hermione all around the house and reprimanding her whenever she found her doing something she should not do. The elemental had even used her right as a master to order her to leave her alone, but in the elf's subconscious, Harry's opinion mattered more, so the order had no effect, especially under the premise of "Master Filldeserp knows what is best for the mistress, milady."
Harry had laughed when Hermione shared the story and had managed to divert his wife's attention to the situation and kept her under Folly's watch for three more days until she confronted him again. But the only thing she accomplished were new orders of some freedom while Harry was home, which did not change much.
"Stay in bed for a little longer," Harry suggested. Hermione daggered him with her eyes until a kick in her womb distracted her.
She caressed it, forgetting her anger with her husband and with the elf. It was an odd sensation; two lives growing inside of her at inhuman speed and twisting around in her placenta, perhaps fighting before facing the outside world. She raised her eyes and found Harry's, loving and alive. He placed his hand on hers and Hermione felt the foreign magic entering her body and relieving the three of them.
"You spoil them. They're already asking for magic when they don't need it," she reprimanded him, but contraire to her intentions and seduced by the injection of magic, she relaxed in bed.
"It is the only thing I can do to relieve your pain, Hermione," he replied with seriousness. "Even when I know they don't need it, I know you do. You would be exhausted otherwise… and all of this is my fault. If I could have protected you, you would have had a regular pregnancy," his expression showed clear anger.
"We have talked about this," she interrupted him. "It was also my fault, that death eater's, the Order's, Voldemort's... This is war, Harry, and above all we have to be thankful we are alive. It does not matter under which circumstances or with what consequences."
He shook his head, not looking at anything in particular, but shutting down the disturbing topic of conversation. His smile was week, but was present, when he asked her to wait and exited the room.
Hermione growled and spoke to her children, with the illusion that one day they might understand her.
"Your father is stubborn. Sometimes he irritates me so much. I hope neither of you turns out that way, ok?" Silence. She closed her eyes and sighed. "Of course you'll be stubborn, with the father and the mother you have. At least you'll work with me and we will annoy Voldemort together, how about it?"
She opened her eyes and saw Harry leaning on the doorframe with a tray on his hands and his eyes glowing with joy.
"Planning a revolution in my absence?" He joked and his laugh sounded sincere.
He waved his hand and a small table appeared on the bed. He placed there the tray and revealed Hermione's breakfast. Such gesture excited her and she pulled his arm until he agreed to sit by her side.
"Folly made it, as you can imagine… I am not that fast cooking," he commented, perhaps a little embarrassed by the sign of affection.
"I'm glad you work early every day… Otherwise you would spoil me rotten as well," Hermione mocked him. She then took a chocolate cookie. "We should choose godparents for the children."
Harry blinked, surprised by the sudden change in topic.
"It is not necessary. The least amount of people who know about them the safer they will be," he said.
"I don't think so. It might be safer keeping them hidden, but… what if Voldemort, you, and me get involved in a battle? Someone has to know about them to protect them and…"
"Hermione, you are not participating in any other battle," Harry stopped her with an icy tone.
"There could be another surprise attack. They might find us. We need to be able to trust someone."
Harry's expression was sharp to her insistence. In fact, he stood up and walked around the room for several minutes until he took control of his emotions and his magic, which had begun to manifest.
"If we fail, nobody will be capable enough to keep them safe," he stated. "I was not willing to give you to anyone during the battle, what makes you think I will give my children?"
"Harry, at the end you gave me to Remus," she said, trying to calm him with her voice. "You had to do it. Emergency situations require measures that we wouldn't take under other circumstances. I think we should agree on who we trust, at least in part, in case it happens again."
He took a deep breath and returned to his place next to her. He seemed defeated to the hypothetical situation Hermione was trying to prevent.
"You are right, I am sorry." He took his hand to his chin, taking a moment to think.
"We could ask Remus and Tonks. They know about my survival and about the twins," Hermione suggested. He frowned.
"It is for the best to keep them away from the main stage. Voldemort does not know about them. Besides, we need people who are accessible in a moment of crisis. The Lupins will take too long reacting, even if we could reach them effectively."
"True." She bit her lower lip. "Well, I don't know your death eaters too well. Perhaps Phinehas?"
"No," Harry laughed openly at her suggestion, making her feel stupid. "It is for the best not to trust the vampire with many things. He is too clever for his own good." He chuckled, impatiently.
"I think that is everyone I can suggest," Hermione said with resignation. "Except, well, Cailean."
Harry did not respond immediately, thinking of the possibility.
"Not a bad candidate," he muttered. "Perhaps a little unstable, but… it could work." Hermione smiled, delighted by her contribution. He returned her smile. "And perhaps Anthony. He is the only death eater to whom I would trust something so precious."
"I thought… your circle was wider," Hermione said with a frown.
"It is," the Dark Lord confirmed. "But, to how many men could you give access to what you love most in the world without fearing for a moment they wouldn't use it against you?"
"Your men believe in you and your vision, Harry," she replied.
"Don't be naïve, Hermione," he reprimanded her. "They might depend on me, they might have great expectations for the future… but they would not hesitate to bite if they can grab onto my weakness."
Hermione closed her eyes again and continued with her fantasy; in that stable, peaceful, and regular world, they would have friends who would be fighting to be godparents. She could imagine Ron and Neville dueling while Luna and Ginny would bet in one of those odd games the blond girl occasionally invented. At the end of the discussion, Harry, annoyed by the argument, would randomly select the couple of godparents to keep them pleased.
"Do you know if Luna recovered from her wound?" She asked, remembering the consequences of the last confrontation.
Perhaps for the third time that morning, Harry gave her an odd look because of her question before answering.
"As far as I heard, there were no inconveniences," he hesitated a moment before continuing. "Ronald and Luna have disappeared from the Order headquarters."
"What?" She yelled, surprised by the news.
"Apparently they have quit their daily activities," Harry explained with indifference. "This combination of disappearances in the Order actually increased Voldemort's suspicions on certain mystery secrets I am not sharing with him. At any point he tries to find me distracted to extract information," he said with a laugh.
"But… you haven't had anything to do with Ron and Luna's disappearance, have you?" Hermione examined his expression with some distrust.
"Hermione, Weasley is not one of my obsessions," he answered slightly irritated. "I have more important businesses to attend, and that is why I did not mention it before."
Perhaps it was the reminder of how busy Harry had been that month, but it was then when she noticed the large bags under his eyes that darkened his already pale face. She had not probed much when they had discussed the subject weeks before, but his apparent death had unchained varied reactions within the circle of death eaters. Those who sympathized more with Voldemort, mainly the old generation of death eaters, had rejoiced and had not hidden their feelings. Hermione imagined Filldeserp's frustration as he could not punish them; he had to remain impassive at every moment, under the image that she had only been a useless means to a highly ambitious end.
At the same time, his own circle was pressuring him to start. But, as he had trusted her in a moment of great confusion, he believed it was not the right time to cleanse Voldemort's old influence on his subjects and call for change; it was not the ideal time for conflict as she was pregnant and the Order was stronger. But his allies were unaware of most of those conditions, or preferred to ignore them.
"They caught the spy?" Hermione asked.
Harry's sudden change frightened her, although he was able to control himself almost instantly. His eyes had taken a red tone, incited by his element, which gave him a similar look to Voldemort's; a resemblance that Hermione had conveniently forgotten.
"You do not have to worry about her anymore," he sharply replied.
"Were you able to figure out her reasons?" She questioned against her own survival instincts which suggested her to remain quiet.
"An insane plan from many years," she knew she could not pressure him for more.
Hermione had finished her breakfast as they talked. With a wave of his hand, Filldeserp got rid of the tray and dishes, not even leaving a trace of any crumbs on the sheets.
"You only missed asking me about one topic," Harry mocked her, standing up and walking to the closet where he kept some of his robes. Hermione smiled with sadness to the bitter display.
"How is your link with Sheila?"
"I thought you would skip it today," her husband whispered.
"I know how exhausting it is lately. Has it gotten worse?"
Around the beginning of the third week of February Harry noticed an increasing distance in his connection with Sheila. Several days later they had discovered that De Santos had reached the earth elementals, who had most likely provided refuge for the Spanish in Eastern Europe, or even Eastern Asia. Since then, Filldeserp had been exposed to a progressive torture. Worse was knowing that if he was suffering, Sheila was feeling it at least three times worse. It was undoubtedly frustrating not been able to do anything.
"Plenty," he complained, touching his forehead. "They are probably experimenting with out connection, analyzing how to end it." He shook his head upset. "But Sheila and I are too powerful and her loyalty toward me keeps her strong. However…" He sighed as he took a set of robes from its hanger. "We will go mad if this continues."
Hermione walked toward him and kissed him carefully, trying to provide him the same peacefulness he did every time he gave her some of his magic.
"Don't worry, we will keep you sane and safe," she promised him.
Fortress of the Dark Order
April 30th, 2005
Time: 5:45PM
It had been two months since the death of Alice Kolberg. After her disappearance, the Order of the Phoenix had not wasted time in changing the location of its headquarters, correctly assuming her death at the hands of Filldeserp, who regretted not being able to surprise them thanks to the information on their location he had gathered.
After the death of the Contact, the disappearance of Ronald Weasley and Luna Lovegood, added to the departure of the three Spanish with Cecilia, the Order had not enjoyed for long its partial triumph over the Dark Lords. In fact, at the beginning of March, they had recovered control of the Fortress and had reinstated death eater activities in it, reinforcing the shields and other security measures. Even knowing the exact coordinates, neither the Order nor the Ministry could get close to it.
Nevertheless, the situation between both sides had continued with fluctuation. They had returned to the implementation of sporadic attacks to certain figures in the magical community and to towns in which magical people and muggles lived together, but they were not frequent and they usually found auror resistance with renewed motivation. Lord Voldemort and Filldeserp, notwithstanding, had started to project with more fervor, accelerating many of the events they had planned with the goal of absolute control over the Ministry.
In the meantime, with every day that passed, pain caused by the connection with Sheila also increased. Lately, Filldeserp had to rely on potions to diminish it during those times when his full attention was needed, but he had to do so in moderation for fear of addiction or immunity to the effects… but that date was near.
The night of Walpurgis.
After the Congress organized in October, that dark creatures and wizards celebration was the second climax of culture and politics for the Dark. Practitioners of Necromancy specially rejoiced in the holiday as it was one of those rare moments in the year when communication with the dead was naturally eased. Filldeserp, on the other hand, enjoyed the adoration to his element, essential for the events of the evening, and the encounter with old allies.
He smirked remembering with nostalgia his first Walpurgis… April of 1998, almost a year after betraying the side of the Light and attacking Hogwarts. By then he had already traveled and met certain personalities and wonders of magic, besides engaging in the traditions of the Darkness. Nevertheless, nothing could have prepared him for the spectacle at the peak of the Blocksberg Mountain and his first real experience with dark magic, combined with fire.
Casting charms or dark curses had introduced him to that particular branch, but Walpurgis was an absolute initiation to the Darkness. It had been electrifying feeling the Magic in his veins, beating inside of him as his own heart, possessing him in a way he knew he could never experience again with the Light. Before that night, he thought dark magic was only an instrument. After, he understood he was the weapon at Its service.
Voldemort had been by his side during that experience. With his mocking attitude he had smirked when he had asked for an explanation and he had placed a hand on his shoulder in a gesture both affectionate and boastful.
"You are now truly a Dark Lord."
There lay the beauty of the day; Magic, in its most perfect, personal, and active state, spoiled each one of its mortal children and celebrated with them another cycle of life.
He had not been absent from any celebration since then.
He was now waiting in the hallway for Voldemort, who was taking some time because of affairs related to St. Mungo's, to travel to Germany where they would be welcome by count Phinehas. Fitting of his rank and of the position he had on the event, he was wearing a set of his best robes, with symbols from the noble Slytherin family embroidered. The event was not just about magic, after all. Politics were also a big part and appearance was undoubtedly a hot ingredient.
After several minutes of forced patience, Voldemort exited his personal office with clothing as impeccable as his heir's. Filldeserp even noticed his accented paleness, possibly to intensify the redness of his eyes; both coercive elements to utilize Legillimency against innocent victims.
"Muggle make-up, Tom?" Filldeserp joked. The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow in indignation.
"Such blasphemies you are professing in this ancestral night, Harry."
They both openly laughed as they walked down the steps toward the main entrance. They did not pass any death eater on their way as many were also taking care of their own preparations for the occasion. No dark wizard ignored Walpurgis, engaging in it even from their homes as it would be a sacrilege not to honor the vibrations of magic which even made Nagini unusually happy that day.
"I hope they set this year as well a banquet for the reptiles," she hissed. "Sometimes those Germans forget our preferences."
"You cannot blame them, Nag. They have to worry about more than you and your friends. They have to tend to humans, vampires, werewolves, birds, and other water and land creatures… as long as they are magical, they are welcome. Centaurs might even make an appearance…" Harry explained, entertained by the offended hisses of his snake.
"We are centuries old creatures of the second class! Ungrateful wizards, that's what they are."
"You know I have asked a few death eaters to bring your favorite snacks," he said with a frown. The snake slithered to him and up his leg until she was by his neck.
"That's why you'll get far, Harry. And why I love you."
"I cannot help but feel abandoned," Voldemort said. "You were never this grateful with me."
"Because you were always slightly bitter," she mocked him. "I always had a bad after taste whenever I kissed you."
To emphasize the contrast, the snake caressed Filldeserp's cheek with her tongue.
However, the small argument that would have occurred with Voldemort's answer was halted by one of the house-elves suddenly appearing in front of them with an agitated expression, which only worsened due to Nagini's reaction to being interrupted.
"Master Filldeserp…" the elf was shaking, with his eyes closed to ignore the furious hissing of the snake.
"What is it, elf? We are about to depart," Voldemort asked, impatient and annoyed by the pathetic creature.
"Folly has sent me to inform you that the misses is… she is…"
"What's wrong with Hermione, Bolt?" Harry asked this time, trying to calm the elf long enough to have him finish the message.
"She is in intense pain," the elf tried to explain. "Folly fears she has gone into labor, master Filldeserp."
For a moment both Dark Lords remained silent to the news, as if they were waiting for the elf to explain such information. Then, Voldemort's laughter unleashed Filldeserp's reaction: paleness that could rival his mentor's.
"Of course your children would be born on Walpurgis," Voldemort said, still laughing. "They have inherited your lack of opportunism. Besides, wasn't Hermione trying to stop you from participating in the orgy?"
"Certainly," Filldeserp replied, still flabbergasted. "You will have to send my apologies to the count, I must help during the birth…" Voldemort chuckled.
"Do you think I would miss the birth of my grandchildren? This elf… Bolt? can apologize to the count for the both of us."
"But one of us should go," Filldeserp insisted with a frown. "They would consider it highly disrespectful and…"
"This is the birth of a new era. They should not consider it a misbehavior but another reason to celebrate, Harry. It is a good omen for our community, even if we cannot announce it."
Filldeserp did not comment. The word "omen" reminded him of the prophecy that lingered over their shoulders… and the mere idea of destiny annoyed him. Very much.
"Has the healer been notified?" Voldemort asked the elf.
He nodded, after which the Dark Lord proceeded to give him instructions to communicate with Phinehas. After the elf vanished, he turned his attention back to his heir, who seemed adequately stressed.
"You should notify the godparents, should you not?" He suggested.
"Can you do it?" He asked, still not entirely focused. "I'll go to Hermione."
As he had agreed with his wife, Harry had spoken with Austen and Anthony to inform them of their new responsibility. To his surprise, Goldstein had fallen on his knees in front of him and had sworn to magic that he would protect his son with his life, besides keeping his existence a secret. It was clear proof that he had chosen the most loyal and perfect man for the job. However, Filldeserp was sorry the death eater had felt the need of making a vow to feel worthy of the trust of his Lord.
Cailean, on the other hand, had expressed a wicked smile, perhaps imagining all the things he would teach his goddaughter as soon as she had the age to understand him. Whatever it was, with his condition as unspeakable, Filldeserp felt some apprehension for his daughter's future enemies.
He arrived to his quarters, stopping any further distraction. Hermione was lying in bed, with Derwent magically examining her very carefully. Folly and another elf were next to the bed, waiting for further instructions from the healer. Everyone was rattled when they heard him enter, stopping the explanations the healer was giving to Hermione.
"Milord," the death eater bowed. Filldeserp gave him an anxious gesture with his hand as he walked closer to Hermione. He kissed her forehead and grabbed one of her hands.
"What can you tell me, Derwent?"
"Milady has started contractions," the healer determined. "It's still the initial stages… she is barely dilated. But… considering the nature of the pregnancy, I hesitate to confirm anything as I am sure everything will change soon. Her contractions will be very intense…" He looked at Hermione with compassion and she took a deep breath, holding tightly her husband's hand.
"I didn't want to bother you… in case it was a false alarm," she whispered.
"Don't worry, Hermione," he comforted her. "There will be other Walpurgis. I don't think we'll have more children any time soon… the twins will be more than enough work," he tried to joke, but she only stared at him and frowned.
Intimidated by the consequences that a pregnant woman's temperament could bring him, he took a step back to give enough space for Derwent to continue his check-up. He watched with some anxiety how the elves disappeared to get water and other things necessary for the procedure, and he felt impotent. He could be one of the most powerful wizards in history, but in front of the generalities of the cycle of life, he felt useless.
He did not take long being witness to the more frequent series of contractions that prepared a woman's body for the moment of birth. By then, Voldemort had also appeared to announce that he and the two death eaters would wait in the room outside. Cowards, all three of them. They were mostly lightly making fun of him while he had to face not only Hermione's expressions of pain, but also her logical recriminations.
And the pain from Sheila's connection, of course.
Approximately two hours later, Hermione had dilated a few centimeters more, her contractions had become extremely intense, although not frequent enough, and Filldeserp would have sacrificed one or more fingers to be in the other room, planning an attack. The healer had abandoned his formality with amusement to his wives loud insults. He was tempted to channel his impatience and frustration to him with a cruciatus, but he chose not to because of the possibility of complications... he needed him healthy.
As an answer to his mental prayers someone finally offered to keep him company during that anxious and long wait. Nagini entered the room, causing alarm and fear to the elves and the healer which satisfied Filldeserp. She slithered until she was on his master's lap, from where she examined Hermione with interest.
"Walpurgis is not the same without you, my dear," the snake said. "The death eaters could not understand what I wanted."
"I thought I was more than an interpreter for you, Nag."
"You are, but in front of the obstacles that interfere between my food and me, you are undoubtedly my interpreter and my hero. Anyway, when I returned, very discontent I should add, I ate that elf. You weren't fond of him, were you?"
"Could you stop gossiping with that dirty snake?!" Hermione yelled after another contraction.
"How inconsiderate," Nagini observed, apparently understanding Hermione's scream from the vibrations. "I know I gave you my approval for this marriage, but… I can still take it back, right?"
"Shouldn't you be more understanding? You are a female."
"She should be extremely honored. It is your descendants. They will be healthy and strong offspring. Ah! New children who to talk to! Do you think they will agree to call me Aunt Nag?"
"Aren't you something… more like… a grandmother?" Harry joked. The snake playfully hit him on the leg with her tail.
"More respect to your elders, especially to this legendary and millennial snake."
"I am sorry, oh wise Nagini, but it is your millennial condition what gives you your status as a grandmother."
"Do not be impertinent or I will leave you alone, to the mercy of your female." Harry glanced at Hermione's deadly stare.
"I am sorry, Nag. Please, stay."
To everyone's discomfort, and Hermione's anger, the snaked agreed. They continued talking parselmouth for about an hour, exchanging their impressions on the new death others or gossip about the old, old anecdotes or merely mocking the reactions of the house elves when Nagini got an inch closer to them. Hermione stopped paying attention to them after some time, having more personal issues to take care of.
"It is a good moment to be thankful I wasn't a mammal, no Nagini said when a particularly intense contraction made Hermione scream.
Except for such pains, time moved slowly and without consequence. When healer Derwent informed him they were entering the final stage of the birth, he asked the elves to bring him the instruments he had set days before for the ritual that was to be performed before the birth of the twins.
He had explained to Hermione the curse on Slytherin's lineage and why he had to intervene in the birth of the children. He was counting on an advantage which had not been in his plans when he had made his pact with Riocard: he was now an eternal servant of Death and as such, he had access to the Kingdom. Either way, his element, added to Hermione's, and the Slytherin and Gryffindor blood running through his veins courtesy of Voldemort and the bastard line from which the Potter line had risen, would have been more than enough.
Hermione took his hand and squeezed it hard, focusing all her suffering and hopes in that gesture.
"Don't you dare fail, you hear me?" She threatened. He only smiled and kissed her lips as guarantee.
There was a small risk to take. Being in contact with Death would not affect him or set in motion his contract, but magic could be sneaky and then everything he had planned for, fought for, would have been in vain. But he had to take the risk, for them, for him. That was why before starting the ritual he had asked Anthony to enter the room…
If he became a dementor the death eater would be able to call for his patronus and stop Hermione's soul from being absorbed by him.
Harry took the knife that Folly handed him and cut his index finger to trace with his blood a pentagram on the back of his left hand and in Hermione's belly as he whispered the incantation in Latin. Immediately, the magic and his blood reacted. It was an extraordinary instant in which he was able to feel his children's heartbeats as if there were two hearts more inside his body. He was able to feel the warmth of the placenta and invite them to the light of the world outside. He knew then, even before watching them being born, before knowing them, before holding them, that nothing in his life would ever have the same meaning. He would kill for those two creatures and give them the world.
Then, remembering the purpose of his bond, he continued reciting the right formulae and his magic took him inside of himself and far away. The familiar ocean of shadows opened below his feet and he let himself fall into the abyss, as he naturally knew it would take him where his soul wanted to go. Death was waiting for him at the shore where they had met the last time, tall and somber. Expectantly, she hugged him the moment he was at her reach and whispered words of love and appreciation to calm him as it was not an easy journey, not when he was still mortal.
"You have come to see me, my Child," she welcomed him with the warmth of a mother. "I am so glad to see you. We will soon be together. Oh, how I long to have those Emeralds for me…"
"My lady, I must ask you a favor. I know you have done more than enough for me, but…"
"Yes, my Child."
"I need to amputate the connection that exists between Godric Gryffinfor and my lineage. Only you, my Lady, can do it well… and stop someone in this world to affect the business of the living."
"And what would you give me in exchange? Because everything has its price, you know it."
"If the magic joining me to Gryffindor is not cut, then you will not receive the brilliant Emeralds. There will not be any magic in me to put at your service."
Death remained silent, perhaps pensive, and perhaps vengeful. But she was too in love with beautiful things to give in to the possibility of losing something precious to her, so she did what her Child requested.
"I will be waiting for you, Carrier of my Emeralds."
To return to the plane of the living he had to go through a portal he had opened beforehand between the two worlds, which took the form of a whirlpool this time. He felt nauseous as he went through and weaker until he allowed his consciousness to fall asleep and for magic to run its course.
When he woke up the first thing he noticed was the face of the healer examining him with a frown. The light in the room hurt his eyes and he had to close them again. Every cell in his body hurt and even his magic felt as if it were sleeping, exhausted from the trance. He was not sure of how long it had been since he started the ritual.
He coughed. Even his throat was dry.
"He has woken up. He is fine," Derwent said to everyone present. He had probably run a diagnostics charm, but Filldeserp had not felt any magic on his body.
"Are his magic levels stable?" Voldemort questioned.
That made him try to open his eyes again. What was the Lord doing there? He had made it clear he did not want to participate in Hermione's childbirth under any circumstances.
"Yes, he has definitely kept his magic, although his reserves are exhausted. It is most likely a consequence of the experience, but I couldn't assure it."
He felt a soft tongue against his cheek and, when he leaned to look, he noticed Nagini by his side and under the blankets, taking care of him. The scene would have seemed bizarre under other circumstances, but his mind could not find a link between his brain cells and his ideas.
"Young man, have you lost the ability to speak?" The snake mocked him as she noticed his wandering eyes.
"I feel destroyed." He closed his eyes once more. "What happened?"
"You passed out… for several minutes." Voldemort replied, walking to his heir and his snake. "You even started to have convulsions and bleeding. We had to get you out of the room because Granger was upset and…"
"Hermione!" Suddenly he remembered and wanted to get up, but both Voldemort with his hand and Nagini with his tail stopped him. "I need to be with her, they are my children and…"
"You are in no condition to do anything, Harry!" Nagini reprimanded him. "We thought we had lost you. You are still very weak…"
"Your children are born," Voldemort informed him as if he was talking about the weather forecast. "We have not been able to see them yet as the elves insisted in hygiene and the healer immediately focused on you after he was sure everything was in order with Granger and the children. But do not dare to get up!" The Lord yelled when he recognized the determination line on his jaw. "I have given orders to Nagini to hold you here for as long as we think it necessary. Do not be so arrogant to even think you are stronger than she is!"
"How is Hermione?" He asked Derwent, conceding for the time being to Voldemort's request. "And the children?"
"The three are in perfect condition. The boy was born first and seven minutes later the girl followed," the death eater informed with seriousness. He remained silent for a few seconds and after glancing at Voldemort, he looked at the young father once more. "Would you like to see them, milord? We could get them here…"
Filldeserp agreed to the proposal with the natural anxiety of such circumstances. Immediately, Derwent called for one of the elves and ordered him to bring the children.
It was an odd feeling facing his future in the hands of an elf. There were his children, sleeping peacefully, barely in the world and they had already decided to ignore him. He felt the weight of the great responsibility of guiding and looking after their lives, but free at the same time. It was a human action, normal and common, even though extraordinary, to welcome the next generation. Few times in his life had he felt so drowned by emotions, so out of himself, so completely given.
And all of that before he even had them in his arms.
With extreme care he took the boy and held him against his chest, admiring his fragility. He was not surprised when he felt a current of magic that he recognized as elemental the moment he touched his child as he knew he would adopt the powers of Riocard Slytherin. He would be an elemental of darkness.
He found it physically impossible to define his parentage on his features. He had never held a newborn in his arms and he thought he was wrinkled and soft. His hair, the short mane on his head, appeared to be brown. He was impressed by the smallness of his hands and examined them for several minutes.
"Hello, little boy. I am your aunt Nag and this silly human is your father."
Nagini had shortened the space between them and was looking at the child from behind Filldeserp's shoulder, who continued to sleep, not noticing that the snake was learning his face through smell and taste with her tongue only a couple of inches away.
"Welcome to the Slytherin family. The first thing you need to learn is to always listen to your aunt Nag and to share all the chocolate you are given, understood?"
Voldemort and Harry laughed at the show as Nagini continued for several minutes, sharing essential tips for survival, apparently convinced that the child could understand her and would respect each one of her rules.
Derwent, who until then had patiently observed the odd scene with the girl on his arms, offered her to Voldemort for him to hold, arguing that he had to attend to Hermione. Voldemort hesitated for an instant and was about to order an elf to do it for him, but gave in to Austen and Goldstein's inquisitive looks, who were in a corner of the room also waiting for the moment to be introduced to their respective godchildren.
Extremely aware of the gravity of the encounter, Harry observed the interaction. Voldemort took the girl in his arms faking confidence even if his uncertainty and clumsiness were obvious in his stance. He then observed the girl with fake indifference and even disgust. Nevertheless, she opened her eyes and returned his look with a natural instinct, after which she stretched her little hand until she touched the snake crest on the robes of the Dark Lord.
It was incredibly surprising, but at that moment Voldemort started laughing out loud. It was not sarcastic, forced or Machiavellian; but joyful and pleased. He smiled to the little girl and began talking to her in parselmouth like Nagini had done to the boy, with unusual warmth.
Harry was ready to call Derwent to ask if he had given him any medication that would cause extreme hallucinations. But no… apparently, they were almost a traditional family.
Fortress of the Dark Order
June 22, 2005
Time: 2:30PM
The two new members of the Slytherin family had been baptized Kieran Thomas and Kathleen Jane. They had chosen to honor both of the children's lineages through their names, choosing an old name as the main one, as pureblood tradition dictated, and another more modern, common, and from within the family, in the muggle style. Voldemort had insisted on Marvolo, but Hermione chose Thomas, most likely to bother him.
Hermione had loved the contrast in the etymology of the names. While Kathleen meant purity, Kieran was associated with darkness, as the two opposite elements in the universe. Harry had justified the choice for his first-born by informing Hermione of the future elemental powers of their child, although Voldemort had added that it was a variation of a traditional name in the Slytherin family.
The family routine had been established after only a few days, as soon as Hermione and Filldeserp had both recovered from their afflictions. The mother was rarely seen away from her babies, even when she had at her disposal a couple of elves to take care of them. Harry, on the other hand, had to continue with his obligations as Dark Lord, but he always reserved periods of time during the day and frequently helped Hermione during the noisy nights. Nagini and Voldemort had the tendency to visit together in the afternoons and always interacted with the children in parselmouth, which exasperated and made Hermione very uncomfortable and, as a result, forced her to leave them alone with the children in resignation.
Against all odds, the clearest and strongest bond had been created between Voldemort and Kathleen. Obviously, the girl could barely return the attention her grandfather gave her, but it was undoubtedly who she respected the most. In some episodes of loud and strong crying, he was the only one who could calm her down and silence her instantly. Voldemort had also taken the habit of reflecting on war strategies by sharing them with the girl and had acquired a more merciful approach to victims with small children. He still killed them, but his methods made Filldeserp believe something had changed. Or perhaps it was just a wishful thought.
Hermione had once interrogated Filldeserp about the monologues between Voldemort and their daughter, and he, with faked innocence, had refused to translate, only insinuating that they were conversations related to the great relevance of the Slytherin family. That night, he had slept on the couch.
Except for Austen and Goldstein, no other death eater or member of the magical community was aware of the news that so pleased the Dark Lords. And the godparents rarely saw the children due to their rigorous schedules and the amount of tasks they were assigned.
The war continued with unusual calm. The Order was unaware of the reasons behind the decrease in the amount of attacks, but they took advantage of the opportunity to regroup their forces. There were no news on Ron Weasley or Luna Lovegood, and by Ginny's request, they had stopped the search. In the meantime, De Santos and his friends remained in hiding with the Eastern earth elementals, without participating in any counterattack or defense.
But they had reached their limit on Filldeserp's patience. The pain caused by the connection with Sheila had increased with time and had forced him into a dangerous consumption of potions and long sleepless nights. He often lost control of his temper and abused the cruciatus on his subjects, almost as much as Voldemort. It was affecting his performance significantly and he had started on a plan to recover his protégé, although he was not sure on how.
That June day begun with the crying of the twins in the middle of the night, which had disrupted his light sleep. Then, during breakfast, he had received an urgent report that informed him of the dismissal of one of the main death eaters in Sat Mungo's. By noon he had tortured five death eaters for their incompetence and had developed a headache that no potion could fix.
Voldemort had forbidden him to attend the next meeting at three in the afternoon after he noticed his insufferable mood. The children and Hermione were enjoying their well-deserved nap, but he had not been able to fall asleep with them. Thus, he decided to relax in his study, go through some reports, unleash his magic in some trivial activity, but nothing worked. He could not focus. His head was beating with the sharp pain and he was near collapsing because of the pain and anger.
He had tolerated enough. He was not willing to be a victim of such coercion any longer.
Against his common sense, he gathered with his magic the building plans of the location of the earth elementals he had collected years before, during his time as an apprentice. At that time, the elementals had not considered him a threat and had hosted him and offered him training. It was only when he had used his element against muggle civilians that they had excommunicated him.
As such, he knew the structure of the building he had to infiltrate. There were a series of factors he was unaware of, like the new barriers they had erected, the amount of elementals he would face, and the exact location of Sheila; but his connection with her was disturbing him. It was possible they had found a ritual to break the bond or that they were trying to annoy him to get him to them. It could be a trap. But the pain was making him useless in the middle of a war and that filled him with impotence. He had not trained and planned for years to have elemental affairs standing between him and his triumph. He would not allow it.
Thus, he decided to penetrate their location that same night. He decided to do it on his own, as the only company that would have been useful was of another elemental... Hermione was in no condition and he would not risk her, even when wind was the ideal instrument against earth, and the only two elementals he would have trusted as battle companions were dead.
He gathered the weapons he could find useful, placed a glamour on his appearance to give himself an eastern look, and before he departed through the floo network he asked an elf to inform Voldemort of his brief absence without mentioning his purpose. He did not wish to raise alarms or suspicions.
His selected destination was the magical town nearest to the elemental's location, in the city of Yumen in the Gansu province. He was right; Sheila was there. The pain had lessened as distance was closer. He did not attract any attention because of his camouflage and was able to exit the shopping area. The local dialect sounded odd to his foreign ears as he walked with fast pace through the streets until he reached the edge of the town.
It was the ideal location for the earth elementals. Near the Gobi desert in a plane region, where muggles were mostly dedicated to farming, they had the best conditions to be in communion with their element, with cold and dry weather. However, Filldeserp had always felt uncomfortable there. The cold air was sharp and challenged him. Within him, fire burn nervous, anxious and ready to break him and give him warmth.
He walked to the elementals location, about five miles from the town. He did not wish to test the limits of apparition barriers and alert them of his presence. The only factor on his favor was the element of surprise. Under other circumstances he would have considered flying, but the wind was merciless. Close to midnight, stars were barely visible because of the density of the many moving clouds.
Soon, based on the coordinates his wand indicated, he was close enough to the building to see it, but it remained invisible. He began some tests on the barriers, intrigued by the possibility of a Fidelius. But it was only a combination of charms that he destroyed with precision until the building opened the door for him. Perhaps the element of surprise was gone, but he was inside.
He entered through an empty hall. His connection with Sheila grew as he got closer and he let his insects guide him to her location, with wand in hand and fire on his fingertips. But no one came out to meet him.
His path led him to a gigantic inside patio with a surrounding rectangular gallery. There, in the middle and levitating under a silver light, was Sheila. The light was feeding of the fine magic threads coming out of the corners in the gallery.
Knowledgeable of ritual shapes, he recognized the setting of a square and a rhombus superimposed and in which Sheila rested in the middle. The square was the shape that strengthened the earth element because of its four sides and angles. Four was the number of mundane, earthly things. On the corners of the rhombus were four focused elementals, while on the corners of the square were four stone columns whose center of power most likely were obsidians. Still intrigued by the components of the ritual, he raised his eyes to the sky and noticed something he had forgotten because of the density of the clouds: it was a full moon.
If it truly was a ritual with obsidians, their purpose was to force Sheila's element to manifest in its entirety and assume its own maturity in order to suppress her dependence on Filldeserp. That was the reason for the chosen night and moon. It would unlink her from fire, heat, solar light, in order to submerge her in darkness as proof of the transition, of the break.
It was impossible to stop the effects of the ritual on Sheila, but he could lower the elemental's focus and with it, its intensity. He could not attack any of the elementals or the columns because that would lead to an unbalance of forces that would put his protégée in danger.
He had to distract them. He had to attack that which they cared for most.
Their place of worship.
With pleasure, he released the fire and allowed it to take over the entire east wing. He had to focus to mentally direct it to the meditation and prayer zone and convert into ashes their idols, figures, and weaken the architecture. The noise of the roof falling was enough to make all four elementals lose focus and raise their eyes.
In that manner he was able to enter the square of the ritual without any immediate risk to his person and reach Sheila, who continued peacefully asleep. As soon as he touched her, however, the girl woke up and slowly opened her green eyes. Filldeserp smiled to her to calm her anxiety when she realized she could not move. At least the bond between them was intact and none of them was suffering anymore… which would allow him to think of a way out.
The four elementals could not attack him while the held the ritual. They also had to willingly stop before Filldeserp could attack them. They were neutralized. However, as long as Sheila was under the effects of the ritual, he could not move her… and her element could be unleashed out of control at any moment, even if her mentor was present. She was too young to be independent. She needed the limitation that the bond with Filldeserp provided her.
In the meantime, the other elementals in the location had been warned of the intrusion due to the fire he had started. Most of them were focused on putting it out, but a few had walked to the inside patio and were standing and waiting. If they attacked…
He embraced a still levitating Sheila to protect her from the impact when those elementals attack him for starting the fire even when their fellow elementals were yelling at the not to do so. The clash of forces not only pushed Filldeserp and the girl to the ground, but it pushed the other elementals out of the ritual, breaking it.
Sheila screamed as consequence of the pain the disequilibrium of energies unleashed in her. Filldeserp tried to calm the effects through their bond and take the pain for himself, but the pain was still too much for the girl who was desperately holding onto him trying to find a solution.
Without the protection of the ritual the elementals had surrounded them. They were ten in total. He could not fight against them while trying to ease Sheila's pain or protect her. He also could not disapparate as they had raised the barriers again.
He had not predicted the consequences of the ritual.
But he would have to deal with them.
He called for a wall of fire to surrounded and protect them from the first attacks. He took Sheila in his arms and held her with his left hand to free his right hand holding his wand. He crossed the wall running and cast several curses against two elementals who stood on his path. He was able to knock them out, making him think they were apprentices due to their inexperience; but the others surrounded him again and made him take a step back.
Agitated, he wished he had not heard Sheila's cry as his impotence increased. He could not get them out of there. He could take care of the novices with ease, but the four elementals who had participated in the ritual were very skillful… and his movements were restricted because of Sheila. Fire had few advantages against earth…
One of them took a step forward with a vengeful and arrogant smirk. The fire in the building had been reduced to almost nothing and crying was no longer being heard. The elemental dramatically extended his hand to unleash his element…
A shadow who had taken refuge behind one of the columns, however, attacked him from behind with a lethal spell. Filldeserp, who had believed it was another enemy, remained as paralyzed as the others when the elemental was barely able to escape the Avada Kedavra. The shadow, however, moved and continued its attack with elegance, distracting the elementals until he reached Filldeserp.
"I thought I got rid of that impulsive behavior years ago, Filldeserp."
It was the first time in a long time he had no answer to give to his Lord. He sighed, leaning to place Sheila on the ground.
"How did you know I would come?"
"You are my heir. I know when something clouds your judgment. You had that look today during the meeting," Voldemort replied.
They positioned themselves back to back, protecting Sheila between them.
"Besides, you left the plans on your desk. If you had thought this carefully, you would not have left traces."
Filldeserp frowned. It was as close as he would be to admit his mistake. But… What else could he have done? Sheila was his protégée… He tried to control his anger, but his frustration only increased. He had fallen into a trap, thinking he could reject it, but the only thing he had done was put at risk the Dark Order, with its two leaders surrounded by a dozen elementals and a protégée on a crisis.
He had to fix it. Voldemort's presence there should not have been necessary.
"We will have to prioritize spells related to the air element," Filldeserp informed him in parselmouth as he evaluated the skills of their enemies. "That is their weakness."
Sheila was still indisposed and could not walk on her own, much less participate in the battle. To free both of his hands and be more effective in his attacks, they would have to keep her levitating between both Lords, so she would not be hurt or become an obstacle during combat. It was not the best, but the three had to get out of there, and soon, before reinforcements arrived.
One of the elementals who had taken part in the ritual had fallen on his knees and placed his hands on the floor. Five others had placed themselves in front of him to defend him while the rest remained surrounding the Lords, waiting.
"What do you think he is invoking?" Voldemort asked.
"To require such defense, it must need a lot of concentration… Probably an earthquake."
"Which means we have to focus on him," Voldemort smiled pleased. "Now they will know why you should not refuse the offer of a Dark Lord."
With a dramatic movement of his wand he caused a violent gust of wind that the elementals contained by raising walls of stone. Meanwhile, two other skillful elementals subtracted magnetite from the ground, which the quickly transfigured into sharp weapons to throw at the Lords.
Voldemort was able to transfigure most of them into snakes while Filldeserp erected a shield against the rest after he tried to stop them with fire only to discover the mineral was a conductor of heat.
"I cannot do anything against their attacks," Filldeserp said as he took on the effort of keeping the defense. "But we need to put them in defensive positions."
"We could attack their walls of stone," Voldemort suggested. "I will create snake with scales that are flammable."
Soon the snakes were on fire through Filldeserp's power, and with their tales they slammed the walls which suffered almost no damage.
"We need to neutralize their attack," Voldemort muttered. They were on silence for several seconds until he formulated a plan. "As soon as I do the transfiguration, lower the shield and melt them."
With great coordination, Voldemort turned the magnetite into glass, which was then exposed to a large fire wall caused by Filldeserp. The glass gave in and broke in thousands of pieces, which Voldemort then directed to the elementals.
By then, the earth elemental they were protecting had collected the energy necessary to begin shaking the ground. A portion of the connecting structure, which had already been damaged by the fire and the ritual, gave in and began falling apart. The elementals took advantage of the blocks of stone to throw them to the Lords.
"I will need you to cool them!" Filldeserp yelled as he extended his hands.
Voldemort understood his heir's idea and together they immediately caused fractures on the rocks, caused by the drastic heating and cooling only to be deconstructed by magic.
"Could you cover me for a few minutes?" The heir inquired.
The Dark Lord did not need to be asked twice. He delegated the attack to the snakes and only worried about holding the shield and transfiguring minerals to weaken them. Meanwhile, Filldeserp had closed his eyes and put his palms together as they glowed. The ground was shaking and made the attacks by the elementals imprecise, which they decided to stop to avoid collateral damage on their building.
Little by little Filldeserp separated his hands until he generated a magnificent fire ball. Once he considered it big enough, he communicated his strategy in parselmouth to Voldemort and they stood defensively.
"Bombarda Maxima!"
Voldemort executed several chains of curses which destroyed the walls and paralyzed the elementals due to the explosion's detonation. Taking advantage of those second of numbness, Filldeserp liberated the concentrated energy and the fire waves knocked out all of the elementals, except for the one who held the seismic movement, physically protected by the others.
With fluid and almost unnoticeable movement due to his speed, Voldemort got close to the lone elemental and ended his life with a foolproof unforgivable curse.
They did not stop for long to relish on their victory in the ruins of what once had been a harmonious internal garden. Filldeserp took Sheila in his arms once more and they ran toward the entrance. When they crossed on of the hallways, a group of people stood on their path. It was the three Spanish aurors.
To the sight, Filldeserp's control was broken. Lucas De Santos, who had claimed the role of a martyr father, had been willing to sacrifice his daughter as long as she was away from him. Not only had he exposed her to terrible suffering and even insanity, but he had also accepted her possible death. All done with the purpose of breaking their bond, of preserving his little girl from the septic influence of Darkness.
De Santos could not defend himself against the raw magic, he was thrown against the opposite wall. He did not lose consciousness, but it took him several minutes to be able to stand up. By then, the disaster had occurred.
Garcia and Martinez replied with a desire for revenge. When Voldemort tried to throw back their attacks, the courses were diverted and bounced on the walls with an unfortunate destination: Sheila. Filldeserp was barely able to turn and protect her with his body, locking her against the wall because of the impact.
Weakened previously by the energy liberated against the elementals and De Santos, Filldeserp chose to remain on his knees in order to catch his breath and overcome the pain of the wound on his back, fully trusting that Voldemort would defend him if necessary. But Sheila, shocked by the attack, screamed in fear when she noticed the blood the clothes of the Lord. He tried to calm her down, but the girl had already suffered many traumatic experiences on one day.
She lost control of her element.
Blinding balls of light came out of Sheila, pushing away the aurors and Voldemort. The closeness to the light would have burn Filldeserp if he had not been a fire elemental capable of bearing such temperatures.
The heir took a deep breath and focused on the magical bond that continued with Sheila. Usually, with little focus he was able to contain the chaos to healthy limits, but Sheila had never had such raw energy at her disposal. She did not know how to channel it… and neither did Filldeserp. It was the unnatural result of the ritual. Sheila was not physically or mentally ready to control her element, and it was unavoidably dragging him through their bond to Sheila's magical core to absorb it.
Power sought power.
He tried to release himself from the bond to return to the physical plane, but the element was focusing on holding him. There was no way to free himself and, as weakened as he was, he could only give in.
At first he thought he had lost consciousness. He was submerged in nothingness. But soon he began to recover his senses. The first thing he felt was an incredible heat coming from two directions: inside and outside. It was beating with a living force, autonomous. He then started seeing. At first everything white, until the world was drawn in many shapes and colors.
He understood then, while the process was being defined, he was observing the hallway through Sheila's eyes, but without blocking her own view. Both could see, both could feel. And magic was expanding.
They had reached complete synchronization through their bond as master-apprentice. They were one. That was the greatest bond two elementals could ever achieve. Their elements had united and were vibrating without restrictions, destroying everything in their paths. It was an experience so overwhelming they could barely distinguish one another.
They were one.
The universe appeared distorted but much more dynamic. Magic was beating in between them, through them, and moving forward. There was something almost hypnotical in its expansion, because everything was drowned by it, absorbed by it. It created and destroyed simultaneously, on a whim. It was the center and the nothing, the abyss and the order, joined. Like that, they could be gods and choose every existence, every little thing on their steps, every life.
With effort and no little resistance, Filldeserp fought to regain his consciousness, his individuality in the midst of such captivating storm and insatiable power. He tried to break his connection with Sheila, but it was impossible. Everything was bright. Through the eyes of the girl he saw the building around them in ruins. There were destroyed bodies, spread out, unrecognizable.
He felt fear inside that was not his, it was Sheila's. He tried, not knowing how, to calm her, but there was too much blood, too much magic, too much light.
They noticed a man rising from the debris. He was hurt, but whole. He was protecting himself from the magic with a powerful shield, although his walk was slow from the effort that meant getting closer to the source of the attack. When he was a few feet away, he was able to recognize him; it was Voldemort. Who else could have survived such explosion of magic?
"Filldeserp! You must abandon her, she is out of control! Filldeserp! Kill her!"
He wanted to respond, but he did not know how. Sheila's body was not even under her control. He was unaware of why he was seeing everything through her eyes, how he had abandoned his own body… it was unsettling. Such magic was unfamiliar, savage, untamable. He wanted to scream in frustration, because he had the feeling…
"You must do it or she will destroy us both!"
He tried to separate himself from Sheila, but their consciousness were too join to distinguish one from the other. He tried to communicate with her, but he could only intermittently feel her most internal emotions. He wanted to destroy everything, to burn… but there was only light.
"I will take care of it then."
He had never felt such frustration… he only needed to communicate! Something so simple, natural… but unattainable. He wished to dominate the magic, but it rebelled against him, numbing him from the violence. All those years of training, planning, of a constant search to stop his fate… and they would end there, by his design, helpless, incapable…
"Avada Kedavra!"
Incapable of stopping a stupid prophecy.
Magic defended itself, of course. It absorbed the unforgivable curse with irritating ease. Then, after a fluctuation, it returned the attack against Voldemort with much more power.
Fire and light.
Voldemort could not defend himself. He could never have. Elemental magic was an area out of his reach, a power he did not know…
The pain broke him. Anguish, impotence, anger, desperation… such acute feelings made him suddenly recover consciousness of himself and he understood then, in a marvelous instant revelation, how to return to his body, how to stop the connection.
He stood up with a struggle as every joint in his body felt destroyed. The magical storm had stopped. Sheila was by his side, probably unconscious, with scratches all over her face and arms. He heard several moans of pain around him and he understood that not everybody had died. But the night had taken over the entire region.
He walked slowly. Every step was a battle in itself. He fell on his knees, defeated, overwhelmed, incapable of reacting, incapable of crying or speaking to the lifeless body.
He felt ice on his throat and a knot on his stomach. His mind was blank. His entire body was shaking. There was no way to remain sane. Everything was vanishing.
Magic had created them, chosen them… and now it had exterminated them under the moon light.