I'm back! And I've even have a new plottwist! I had been struggling with this chapter after a brief burst of inspiration two weeks ago, when I got talking with a good friend about my ships (for this fic). I'd been wanting to couple Voldemort, but couldn't find a good candidate and I dislike writing OC's that play a major part in my stories. So we got discussing and she came with a pairing that made me say 'impossible' at first. Won't work, I'll need to mess with canon in two many way. But she got me thinking, and the more i thought about the better it fit. I need something for Umbitch, and this checked of all the boxes. So most of this chapter I've written today.
Since starting to post on Ao3, I've also found some inconsistencies, mostly with Hagrid, and I've dealt with those.
Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 23: All is fair in love
"Ugh! Bill is so infuriating!" Fleur complained as the girls looked through the mail ordered dresses for Luna. "I've tried every trick in the book, and then some, upped my allure to a level he should have been a drooling wreck, and he still doesn't look at me with interest! At this point I'm ready to declare him gay and be done with it."
"Then why don't you?" Hermione asked, knowing the answer already. Absentmindedly she put a beautiful silver dress on the pile Luna should try.
"Because he doesn't turn into a drooling wreck! All my life I've been followed around by boys controlled by their hormones and now a man shows up who doesn't, he doesn't even recognize my beauty. Hmpf! He should be grateful I'm even trying." Fleur was clearly put out by the conundrum she was in. She had never had to work for a male's attention. Most of the time she had to hex them away.
"Perhaps that's the problem." Luna's airy voice floated from behind the curtain that made an improvised dressing room. She passed back a vivid red dress to Hermione to put on the discarded pile.
"What do you mean?!" Fleur demanded, perhaps a little more forceful than necessary.
Luna continued undisturbed. "The older Weasleys seem more like they want to do the hunting, instead of being seduced. Give him the cold shoulder and he should be yours by the Yule ball."
"Did you See that?" Hermione asked. She was still sceptical about Luna's creatures, but had accepted that Luna could truly See.
"Partially. The strategy comes from the books you've shared Hermione. Of course, there it's mostly the man who uses that tactic." Hermione had to do her best not to blush. Luna spoke so openly and normally over a subject she'd been taught to keep a secret.
Fleur was visibly considering Luna's words. She'd been trying for close to a week now and had nothing to show for it. It was worth a try and if this didn't work she would write to her mother to organise her Veela ball. Fleur had no interest in being inspected like meat in a market, but her seventeenth birthday had come and gone, and she needed a mate. The eldest Weasley called to her and her inner creature. He would make a good mate, if only he paid any attention to her!
"Very well. I'll give it a go. Now please try on this dress." Fleur held up a stunning ice blue dress with a lightly bejewelled bodice and a flowing shirt. It had slightly thicker straps that turned into ruching beneath the breasts.
When Luna came out in the dress, she looked both stunning and appropriately innocent. At thirteen Luna was only just blossoming into a woman and this dress highlighted all her best features.
"You look gorgeous, Luna! Neville won't be able to look away!" Hermione exclaimed.
Fleur nodded, content with ability to at least dress her female friends. Harry had already had his robes picked out and the boys had bought them in the summer holidays. Well, except for Ron. Harry had insisted on gifting him a new pair after seeing the atrocity Molly had bought.
Hermione's dress had a magenta silk bodice with pink chiffon sleeves and a wide tulle bottom. Fleur would go in silver one shoulder mermaid gown with intricate detailing on the neckline.
Hermione was also still keeping silent about her necklace and date for the Yule ball. It was somewhat frustrating for Fleur, who loved to know everything about romantic entanglements.
So far the others had not yet considered dates. They were all asked daily of course, even Ron, but they all felt it should be a special person and not just someone out for their fame.
Dolores Umbridge was humming happily as she poured her latest potion in crystal vials. Not a pleasant sound for sure. Indeed nails on a chalkboard would be more enjoyable. She was currently in her family's private potions lab, imbued with magic from ancient amulets, preparing for the scheme that would secure her place in society.
Really, if Cornelius had been less oblivious to her advances, she wouldn't be forced to brew this particular potion. It was a variant of Amortentia, a family recipe really, though it had been lost for the last five generations. She had stumbled upon it quite by accident, when she had been cleaning out the attic of her family home that had been gathering dust for the last two centuries. She hadn't enjoyed the task, even if she just had to supervise Scully, (her House Elf,) and inspect every item for its usefulness.
Putting in the last cork and placing the vials carefully on their shelf, Dolores wondered if she hadn't been forgetting something. She had been very busy with making all the necessary potions for her plan, and something niggled at the back of her mind. Idly she mentally went over her usual daily routine, only to nearly drop the ingredients she was putting away. Hurriedly she cast tempus and panicked as she saw the date. Almost three weeks! This was a disaster! Her great-grandmother's careful plans would be ruined by her carelessness.
Dolores ran out of the door and hastily apparated to her vacation home, though it hadn't been used as such in nearly a century. And there her worst fears were confirmed. The front door was blasted of its hinges. As Dolores entered the house, she could easily follow the path of destruction, ending or rather beginning with what had once been a crystal coffin. The coffin had exploded in a thousand pieces. There was no sign of the prisoner and Dolores had no way to find the wretched bitch again. She couldn't have been gone for long, a day at most, but that would be enough to let the trail go cold. By now the little bitch would be far, far way.
Dolores screamed her frustration to the sky. This was a setback she couldn't afford. Not when her Cornelius was almost hers. How could she have been so forgetful, neglected her beloved great-grandmother's beautiful revenge on that frightful man!
'Diagon Alley is quite calm for the time of the year,' Marvolo mused as he made his way to Twilfitt and Tattings to pick up his new winter robes, 'Yule is coming up fast and late December is a notoriously busy time.' He enjoyed the happy ambiance of the street. Its relaxed was balm after the stress of the past weeks.
In fact, Marvolo was so caught in his musings, he didn't see the small figure running towards him until they collided against each other. His surprise was not so great that he didn't reflexively reach out and caught the other before they fell. The hysterical sobs reached his ears and he looked down, expecting a child that had gotten lost. He had not anticipated the young woman he held in his arms.
As she looked up, still sobbing, he knew he was lost. His soul cried out for the other half he held in his arms and utter contentment flooded through him as he realized he had finally found his soulmate.
In another universe, the girl would have been long dead before Tom Riddle was even a twinkle in his mother's eyes and he would have lived out his unnatural life, never realising why his heart felt so empty. 'Twas a rare thing for soulmates to exist, even in the magical society. Those blessed enough to be part of such a couple were said to be destined for greater things.
When two soulmates did meet, and were both of age — a requirement for recognizing each other — nothing less than Death could make them part. Once they had been in each other's company, it was torture to be apart for long. And when one died, the other would swiftly follow.
As Marvolo tried to keep a cool head under the shock delivered to him, the girl fainted, her mind subconsciously recognizing she was safe and giving out under the pressure of the last twenty-four hours. He immediately swept her up in his arms, bridal style, and made briskly for the nearest Floo station. His magic was telling him she was mostly unharmed, the only reason he wasn't storming towards St. Mungos and instead made for Hogwarts. Now Dumbledore was gone, he could once again call the castle his first, true home.
Narcissa looked up as the Floo in her office flared to life and spit out her Lord. She had not expected a visit from him, not so soon and not at Hogwarts. She had no time to wonder however, as he briskly walked to the door of her office. With a wave of her wand, the door opened, and it was then Narcissa realised he carried a person in his arms. As she hurried to catch up, Poppy would need an explanation and Lord Slytherin looked in no mood to give one, she glanced at the body.
The girl was petite and obviously malnourished. She was barely any bigger than Harry, who had finally started to catch-up with the girls in his year. Her long blond hair was lacklustre and her skin a little ashen. Her dress was at least a fifty years out of style. Narcissa's discerning eye placing it around the turn of the century. She felt like the girl's features were familiar but couldn't think were from.
However, most information Narcissa got from the way her Lord's magic mingled with the girl's magic. She recognized it straightaway as a beginning soulmate bond, even though she'd one come across one before in her lifetime. And she strongly suspected one between her boys, of course. Lily and James had been destined for each other, despite — or maybe because — their constant bickering and conflicts.
Once they'd arrived at the Hospital Wing, her Lord barked for Madam Pomphrey as he gently settled the girl on one of the beds. Coincidentally the bed next to it had a sign above it, the lowest name reading Harry Potter. He'd been preceded by many illustrious names like Gred and Forge Weasley, Charlie Weasley, the Marauders, and Hagrid. Narcissa knew the other side of the room had a similar bed and sign with names like Draco Malfoy, Bellatrix Black, and Severus Snape.
Now the girl was lying down, Narcissa got a good look at her. She had small cuts all over her body, but mostly on her upper arms and legs. She had dark circles under her eyes and Narcissa would be surprised if she'd had a haircut since her hair reached her shoulders, it now reached the middle of her back.
Poppy bustled over and began casting diagnostic charms. The length of parchment upon which the results appear grew, and grew, and grew. Before long it rolled of the side table and spilled over the floor.
"Is it…Is she that sick?" Lord Slytherin asked, the tremor in his voice betraying his loss of composure. But well, It was his soulmate lying on the bed.
"No," Poppy answered as she scanned the parchment, her eyebrows rising higher and higher and her frown darkening by the second, "The bulk of it are potions, spells and enchantments."
"What?!" Two voices cried out, one female and one male.
"Yes, this girl has been imperiused, enchanted to be unable to control her magic, put into an enchanted sleep which was later replaced by some sort of sleeping potion." Poppy explained.
"Not the Draught of the Living Death?" Narcissa asked.
"No. Perhaps the kidnapper was not powerful or simply not talented enough to make such a notoriously difficult potion. Also, this record of enchanted sleep adds up to five years shy of a century. Whoever this woman is, she will no doubt be in a great amount of distress upon waking." Poppy added.
"I will stay at her bedside." Lord Slytherin volunteered. Poppy looked like she was going to protest, but he cut her off. "I will not leave my soulmate, not after almost losing her forever."
Narcissa could see the understanding dawning on Poppy's face. She bowed respectfully before getting some potions from her office. They would, so she explained, correct the damage done with the potions and curses. They would need time to work, so she also placed the girl in a healing coma.
Marvolo transfigured the chair next to the bed of his soulmate into something more comfortable before calling his House Elf to bring him his papers so he could work. He tried focusing on Wizengamot business for close to an hour. Yet he couldn't help but ponder the mystery of the girl sleeping soundly next to him.
His heart swelled at thought of having the rest of his life with her. When Severus corrected the damage Wormtail and the Horcruxes had done, he'd also deaged Marvolo permanently. He was also filled with rage at the thought that someone had gotten away with hurting his soulmate, his other half.
According to Madam Pomphrey the sleeping potions and enchantments had not stopped the aging process completely. She would have aged about a year every twenty-five years, so four in total. Pomphrey had estimated her to be about 20 years old. The first enchantment however had registered at seven. His soulmate had been denied a childhood, a chance to grow into her magic. When she'd woken up, she must have had into her magical coming of age immediately, further complicating an already explosive situation.
He wondered about her identity as he dwelled in the calm their mingling magic brought him. Her features didn't tell him much, and she didn't have any clues about her family on her. He thought back to his first glimpse of her, the panic into those big, brilliant blue eyes… He shot up in his seat. He knew those eyes! Had despised them for so long in a much older face.
Albus Dumbledore closed his eyes when he reached the end of the letter. Gellert had passed this morning. The guards had found his body lying in the middle of his prison cell, his face turned to the lone window high up in the wall. He had held on fifty-three years in the hell they call Nurmengard. Far longer than Albus had expected either of them to hold on.
In fact, neither had predicted they would live long after Ariana… That was after all why Gellert had pushed true with his believes. Not that Albus thought he'd ever truly believed the nonsense they were spouting at the time. But Albus had, and so Gellert pushed on. Began a war Albus didn't have the motivation for — not anymore at that point —, spread Albus' believes, and killed and tortured and hated in the name of a cause old as time. Albus would have done it for the Great Good, but not Gellert.
A single time slipped from the old wizard's eye as his heart mourned, his soul cried out. Fawkes flew down from his perch to Albus' knee and crooned in an effort to lighten the agony he was feeling. Albus smiled sadly as he gently petted the magnificent bird's head. Not even a phoenix song could help him now.
He stiffly rose from his comfortable couch, feeling like twice his age. 'How could he not?' He slowly made his way to his bed and lay down. He didn't bother changing, there was no need after all. Nor did he slip under the covers. Instead he reached under his pillow, extracting a golden pendant on a long necklace.
His fingers felt the phrase inscribed on the front, Non desistas Non Exieris (Never give up Never surrender). At the time it had seemed so fitting, if only they had known… It mattered not now. What was done, was done. He slipped the necklace over his head, settling the pendant where it belonged. Near his heart. In here they had been together always, no matter the miles between them. And now…they would have eternity.
His eyes slipped closed. He could already see his beloved, as they had been a century ago. So in love, so sure of themselves. Invincible. A hand strayed to his stomach. His husband and child were not far off. How he longed for them!
And thus Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, arguably the greatest wizard of his generation, passed on peacefully in his sleep. The only witness his faithful phoenix, who mourned his wizard companion with a heartbreakingly beautiful song until dawn. As the first rays peaked over the horizon Fawkes burst into a ball of flames before disappearing.