Hello again. Welcome to the next chapter.
The opinions and such stated in this fanfiction do not reflect the opinion, and thoughts of the writer. Please keep this in mind.
Warnings: Nothing to violent, but language, and a bit of gore.
CHAPTER 6: Frightful Imagination.
It was the pitch black of the night that made Sirius Black so nervous. He guessed that it was the six years spent in Azkaban that really made it far more surreal than he'd like.
There was a morbid feel to tonight. Something calling to the darkness buried deep within him. It was not something he could ignore, as hard as he might try.
What a gloomy night!
A wiggle by his side distracted him from his dismal thoughts. Hadrian was restless.
The seven year old boy was out of bed well past midnight, and normally, Sirius would scold him for getting caught out of bed at such an hour. Tonight was beyond different.
Tonight was terrifying for the child. He wasn't sure if he would ever see his mother and uncle again. The thought bothered him.
One could have called his family evil, but that person would have been assuming under a misconception.
Yes, they taught him the dark arts, but in all honesty, he'd be upset if they didn't.
One cannot go through life, pretending there is only one side of you. It wears on the soul faster than any curse or spell.
To find the balance in between the two sides of you, was important. To ignore either would be foolish.
A lot of people were afraid of one side or the other, but they had been working under a falsity. The dark didn't mean evil. Nor did the light mean good. They were reflections of one another. Simply the opposite side of a mirror.
Truly it was history, and the subconscious fears of those with mind enough to put a label on magic that had done such.
And yet, wars had been waged in the name of both.
Hadrian sighed. Ideals were what was truly dangerous, if you asked him.
Idealists gathered a following, and it seemed to snowball from there. They believed that they were the ultimate ideal, and what they were doing, how they were living, should be the consensus.
Most would even fight to make it so. Shed the blood of those whom do not conform. And rise up a new empire of those ideals.
Dangerous stuff, as there were many ideals, many forms of people who thought like this.
Even in the wizarding world, there were people like that. Idealist that were more deadly than others, and magic just added fuel to that fire.
Hadrian's seven year old mind could wrap around the horrors of war. His mother had not shielded him from that harshness. She had told him, many times, that life wasn't going to shield him from anything. That he, even at his age, should be prepared for as much as he could.
He wondered at her wisdom, even now. Here he was, in one of the situations that she had warned him about.
It was scary, but he wasn't in the complete and total dark. His mother had told him much. Left him many warnings.
She'd told him that this day may come. That one day, she may no longer be able to take care of, and watch over him. She'd also told him that this didn't mean that she'd ever stop loving him.
Hadrian had hardly been confused when his mother told him that Alcied would probably be taking watch over him, along with Sirius.
His uncle had betrayed the Dark Lord, hadn't he? Wouldn't the Dark Lord kill him? Hadrian wondered.
And what was he to do with his soul mate?
. . .
Alcied's eyes carefully scanned the hall way.
About 16 minuets ago, they had easily gotten past the many wards, bearing the dark mark as they did. They had almost made it into the front hall when Igor had begun firing off many spells at the Dark Lord's faithful, giving them away.
Alcied knew he should have put a muzzle on the man, but alas, had forgone that idea.
Now, they were stuck in the entrance hallway, barely holding their own.
Most people were shielded by the walls just before the narrow hallway. Others had ducked down and managed to find a nook, or a statue in the hall.
Others were laying face down in the plush carpet of said space, not that they felt how plush it was, being dead and all.
This created a bump in Alcied's plans, but nothing he couldn't work through. He quickly counted heads.
'68 of our men left.' he processed.
'63 of them left.' he felt a small twitch coming on.
How had they known? How had the Dark Lord known that this was going to happen?
This wasn't supposed to be a regular meeting night. So why were all of these people gathered here?
It was infuriating. All his careful plans, and the Dark Lord knew. He suspected treachery, and wouldn't put it past Lucius Malfoy to have betrayed him.
The man had always been an insufferable coward. Let alone with a Black at his back, directing his movements like she the puppet master, and Lucius, the poor sod, a puppet.
Those were the Blacks for you though.
He quickly shook off his dark thoughts. Now was the time for battle. Drifting like that could cost him dearly.
'Duck, roll, dodge left, turn 15 degrees to the south, curse, curse, curse, duck, roll, dodge right.'
His mind was now on auto, and his body along for the ride. His magic a fierceness that he didn't quite know where it was coming from.
He knew he had to push through the defenses. It was crucial that he make it to the Dark Lord's "throne room".
Part of his heart wavered for a moment. But only for a moment.
He didn't want to truly take the Dark Lord down. The man stood for everything Alcied had firmly believed in.
Muggles were dangerous to themselves, so why bring them into the magical world?
There was a problem with muggleborns. They would never reach their true magical potential, unless they grew up around magical adults.
In the beginning, a child's magic core was unstable, and needed the core of adult witches and wizards to help stabilize. The more time a child spent around a powerful adult, the more their core could siphon from the adult's core. The more this happened, the more the child's core was stabilized, and thus allowing the child full access to their magic.
It didn't hurt that the child who spent more time around adult witches and wizards also learned far more about their world then they did with a muggle.
The more the magical child knew, the better the integration into the magical world.
Often times, magical children were in danger with muggle parents. These dangerous parents would, more than most likely, believe that the child was evil, or possessed by such, and try to 'fix' the child by harm, or exposure to elements that no child should be exposed to.
Either that, or abandon the child to the cold, and cruel nature of life.
Why not give these children to pureblood families to raise? The families could take care of these children, and teach them.
It was idealists like Albus Dumbledore that stood in the way of solving these issues, believing that all pureblood families that didn't follow him, or were not as easy to manipulate, were evil.
He had to firm his resolve. Hadrian would die at the Dark Lord's hands if he didn't take the man down.
That would be all it took to bring Willow down.
His family would crumble into dust before his very eyes, and there would be nothing he could do to stop it.
That's why he had to fight now. He had to begin this battle anew!
A coldness settled over him.
Hearing the muttering of someone chanting a spell, Alcied spun around and made quick work of the person attempting to catch him from behind. Alcied took down another opponent with a well aimed severing hex. They didn't really need their head anyway.
He was able to quickly throw up a shield spell against a fire spell. He took that person down with a well aimed leg lock jinx.
Alcied wanted to scoff. Who had educated these people? Hadrian had a better educational level than most of those he was fighting against, and the boy's magical core was still dependent on the magical adults around him.
He was able to get off several spells that either killed, or disarmed his opponents, snapping the wands of those disarmed as he went.
He soon found himself beyond the hall, and heading quickly for the throne room, his body still on auto.
. . .
Igor Karkaroff was trapped. Pinned down by Lucius Malfoy who had turned on him almost as he'd fired the spell that began the revolution.
Igor was almost helpless against Lucius. The man's dueling skills were beyond Igor's measure, and for the headmaster of Drumstrag, this was a terrifying thing.
He'd forgotten that most of those he dueled against were mere children. Lucius Malfoy was no child. The man had been through enough duels to have learned more than a few tricks, and he was in top form tonight.
Igor's hands were shaking, a sign Lucius caught all to quickly for Igor's liking. His eyes were darting around the hall, looking for help, but knowing there was no one.
He was done for, and it had been his own fault.
He'd been so nervous about this, that the first Death Eater he'd seen, he'd thrown a curse at.
Things had exploded after that, rather violently.
With hope slowly building in his chest, Igor spotted a door. He could run!
He waited for Lucius to become distracted, and with all of the chaos booming around their heads, he didn't have to wait long.
Someone came around the corner, flinging spells quite dangerously. Lucius had to take the man down quickly before someone important was killed, mainly himself.
As soon as Lucius took his eyes off Igor, the man ran for the door.
He was going to make it! He would run from this manor, and flee into the night. He'd go into hiding with his son and make sure no one could fi-
He was hit in the back with a harsh curse, making his knees give out, and his body crumple to the floor.
All of the breath in Igor's chest was furiously pushed out. His muscles protested at any sort of twitch.
He was so close to the door. Not even a real foot or so, but his fingers were short, and stubby. He was out of reach.
It was with relish that Lucius not only took out a man threatening his life, but now he could present the head of a traitor to the Dark Lord.
This night was going well for him.
He was gleeful as he decapitated Igor.
. . .
Yaxley had fought his way, attempting to stay beside Alcied, but he'd lost the man in a rush of a confundus spell.
Thankfully, the man who cast the spell had been Severus Snape. He'd never been really good at those spells, so it had faded very quickly.
Snape sneered at him. What was he sneering for? The dungeon bat was well out of his element in the lavish manor. Against Yaxley, that only narrowed his odds far more.
He was beginning to think that this may be over quicker than he thought when Snape made the first move.
The man ducked and shot a binding spell. As soon as the spell went off, Snape rolled to the left, dodging the hex Yaxley had sent his way.
The binding spell missed as Yaxley quickly side stepped, keeping his eyes trained on Snape.
Snape came up on one knee, his foot planted firmly in case he had to stand quickly.
Yaxley was about to sling the killing curse when an explosion rocked the manor slightly.
He turned to see where it had come from. A fatal mistake.
For all of his years, and all of his training, why had he taken his eyes off Snape? He'd been a fool!
Snape got the killing curse off first, and Yaxley wondered no more.
Severus made quick work of Yaxley's body, decapitating the man.
The head of the traitor. Surely the one who presented this to the Dark Lord was no traitor, himself.
Or so Severus hoped the thought process would go.
. . .
Lord Voldemort sneered as he watched those in his throne room. Myra Sonfield, now looking exactly as Willow Croÿ had. She was dressed in the woman's clothing, and wore the locket that dictated the Lady of the Croÿ house.
Her magic even felt like Willow's. That part was temporary, due to the blood ritual used to give her the identity of Willow.
The Dark Lord never took short cuts, or did anything in halves. This had to be the full proof of death, and the cut from Alcied, or else the man wouldn't be punished.
What he would do with Alcied after all this mess had settled had been a matter of some debate. He had plans of sending the man to act as a spy on the Ministry, and Dumbledore. Snape was getting to suspicious.
He couldn't have things getting out of hand before he managed to take over the Minister's position.
He sighed as glamors were placed on Alecto Carrow, temporarily making her look like the woman strung up.
They needed to lure Alcied into the trap.
. . .
Alcied fiercely fought through Riddle manor. Something was calling his magic to the throne room. This something was desperate, almost as if calling for his help.
He then caught sight of his sister's back as she disappeared around a corner. Alcied's heart stopped, gripped by sudden ice.
What was Willow doing here?! She was supposed to be at home, taking care of Hadrian! Had the Dark Lord brought here here?
He prayed not, but decided to follow after his sister. He had to protect her at all costs, even if it meant withdrawing from this bloody battle.
He soon found himself at the doors to the Dark Lord's throne room. He watched as his sister slipped inside, and he made to follow, but the door had shut in his face.
He gripped the handle, and pulled hard, before almost smacking himself in the face. Magic! Duh!
"Alohomora!" he called softly, and breathed a sigh when he heard the lock click.
He didn't fling open the door. No... That would be foolish.
He did push one side of the double doors open with his foot, and lean against the other.
When no spells came across the threshold of the doors, he began to wonder if there was anyone in there.
"No time for games, Croÿ. Enter." came the commanding voice of the Dark Lord.
Alcied steeled himself, and entered the door, the muscles in his body tense, in case he needed to dodge oncoming spells. He also kept his senses up, in case someone decided to go for his back.
When the dim lights of the room had settled with his eyes, he saw the horrifying image of his twin sister strung up.
She was beaten and bloodied. Her pale skin held a sickly grey tone to it now. Her plump lips were split, and cracked. Her face scratched, and several patches of raw skin dotted her angular face. There was blood coming from her nose, some of which, looked dry, and most looked more recent.
Her eyes were shut, as she hung their, helplessly, but upon his full entrance into the room, her aqua eyes met his, and there was a fury in them.
This was a look he was not used to receiving from his sister. This was hatred, pure and unfiltered. It was loathing, and disgust.
It was straight out of one of Alcied's nightmares.
"Welcome, Lord Croÿ. So glad you could finally join us." the Dark Lord hissed out, his snake like features contorted in a dark sort of glee.
He thought to raise his wand against this man, and put an end to this night. Or he tried to. Magic had bound him!
He couldn't move his arms, or bring his magic to the surface. What was going on?!
His sister's voice cracked his panic.
"You are an idiot. You've gone against the very will of Magic, and now she denies you!" she spat at him. Alcied winced. He never believed in all his years, that his sister would speak to him in such a tone of cruelty and disgust.
This couldn't be his sister. She would never hate him as such.
But when he got a better look, around her neck sat the locket that only she could remove from her person.
Alcied felt shattered. He wasn't sure what to do. One of the people he'd done all of this to help now hated him.
His other half despised him, and was now talking to him as if here were a lesser creature, far beneath her notice.
"You simpering coward! Look at what you've done to me! You swore to protect me, and now you've killed me! Think of what this will do to our family, dear brother!" she sneered, the look not going well with her face.
The sweet, kindly sister had never had such a look on her face, even when she was a bit violent. He'd driven her to this. This was his fault.
Every nightmare he'd ever had of this came crashing down.
He needed to rally his men!
Just as his eyes looked among the men, he caught sight of Lucius Malfoy, who was holding the head of Igor Karkaroff.
He nearly scoffed. How was he not surprised at that?
But it was the man standing next to Lucius Malfoy that really made Alcied give up hope.
Severus Snape stood with Yaxley's head, held by the hair, in his hand. Savage glee was what lit Snape's eyes.
His best mate, and recent lover was dead, and his remains were being treated with less than care.
He raged.
"You are dead Snape!" he screamed out, but could honestly do nothing. Not even his legs would move.
"No, brother. You've killed them. Drug them into a conflict which never needed to happen. I talked to the Dark Lord, and made a deal with him. Hadrian and I were safe, until you pulled this." Willow's harsh voice pierced Alcied's blood lust.
His heart froze even more so, threatening to shatter.
"What?!" he demanded.
Willow's answering glare silenced him like a child.
"I made a deal with the Dark Lord to protect Hadrian. I would offer him my seer services, if he offered not to harm my son." she hissed out at Alcied. Said man flinched, not believing what he was hearing.
"Why did you not tell me?" he demanded. She growled. "If you had been home long enough for me to explain, I would have gladly done so. I had told you several times that we needed to have a chat, and you just brushed me off. You utter idiot! Your worse than a muggle in your ignorance!"
He wilted, feeling his heart shatter on the harsh rocks of her ire. It was true. Several times, she'd gone to him, pleaded to talk to him, and he'd promised that they would talk soon, but had never planned to have a chat with her.
"Your punishment, Alcied, is to go through life without the thing you cherish most." the Dark Lord nodded, giving the silent order.
Willow Croÿ was then decapitated harshly.
At the same time as her spinal cord was severed, he pulled the barriers to Slytherin manor up, cutting off the real Willow's magic from the world.
"Good job in informing me of all of this, Lucius." the Dark Lord's voice barely got through to the horrified Alcied.
. . .
Hadrian felt it. His mother's magical signature was gone.
Tears gathered up in green eyes, and misery consumed his mind.
Sirius noticed Hadrian's reaction. He too had felt when his love's magic had gone, and a numbness had taken over.
All Sirius could do was gather Hadrian into his arms, and let the boy cry.
Devastation was nothing new to Sirius, but it still flung the man into the cold depths of sorrow.
What was to happen to them now? Were they left to the complete mercy of Alcied? Would the Dark Lord kill him, and leave Hadrian without legal guardians?
These were things Sirius had to think about, or else he'd be bawling like Hadrian. He didn't think the poor boy could handle the deep grief Sirius held.
He loved her. Maybe it wasn't the deep love most expected from a whirlwind romance. He wouldn't even call it a romance.
She was real, and she was all he'd had left, apart from Hadrian. Remus was beyond his reach. James, dead, and Wormtail a traitor.
She was all he could cling to, and this had brought him some measure of comfort that he, at least, had her.
She had felt much the same way as him. He was real, and alive. Although he was far from James Potter, this was fine with her.
She wasn't looking for his replacement. She was just looking for the same warmth to share as Sirius himself was.
They had found it in each other. Slowly, and tentatively, they'd begun to really bond. They'd come to find a love, soft, and not ready to be brought into the light of recognition.
Hadrian's small fist being brought down on Sirius' chest worried him slightly. Hadrian had never been prone to violent anger, but Sirius felt he understood.
They both had to accept a hard loss.
. . .
Willow Croÿ's aqua eyes peered at Regulus Black over the dinner table. Her cold stare pinning the shocked man to his seat.
He'd not seen her since they were children! That had been the last time, as the Croÿ family had denied the marriage contract between Sirius, and Willow and several members of each family had a falling out of epic proportions.
Apparently, Roland Croÿ had promised Dora Black that their families would one day be joined. A blood promise that had been made before Dora had married Charlus Potter.
Most believed that Roland and Dora had begun an affair to make that promise come true. While Roland did have an affair with another, Dora Potter had remained faithful to Charlus.
Not one word of who the mysterious person was, thought. And Roland had taken his secret to the grave, and beyond.
Well... The man had tried. Willow knew damn well who her father had initiated the affair with, and disgust at her father's choice had been kept secret.
Albus Dumbledore. Honestly, her father had the worst taste in his partners.
That was the absolute true reason why her father had turned to the light.
She'd oftentimes wondered if it had been those lemon drops that Dumbledore was so damn fond of.
But her father had been happy. Happier than he'd ever been with her mother, if ever.
Willow sighed, brought back to the present by Regulus' awkward cough.
She raised an eyebrow, as if asking him what it was he wanted to discuss.
"It's nice to see you again." Regulus commented. Willow nodded.
"As it is with you." she said, a small smile lighting her face, despite the dreary times.
She could only imagine what her little boy, and her big one must be going through. Her heart broke at the thought, but showing it would hinder what she had to do to keep them alive.
Play nice, and wait. Two things she was very good at.
. . .
Alcied stumbled through the door of his ancestral home, beaten and far more than a little bloody. To be honest, he didn't remember anything of how he got here, or the beating that had taken place before hand.
All he could remember is his sister's head rolling around on the floor as the Death Eaters played 'kick ball' with it.
After hours of them beating him, magic had finally let him go, and the Dark Lord had told him that he'd be in contact.
Alcied felt empty. Half of him was gone. The very half that had supported him, and carried him through the darkest of times.
He had betrayed her, and gotten her killed.
His face remained impassive, not even hearing the sobs of his nephew, or the cooing of the man he had supposedly hated the most.
He made his way to his father's study. Hopefully, Roland could tell him what he needed to do.
Unfortunately, it was Matilda that met him first. Her shrewd midnight eyes narrowed, as she watched him. She picked him apart with her stare.
"Failure. Your an utter failure, you know." she hissed. Alcied didn't defend himself. He deserved worse.
He sat there, the stone coldness in his heart never abating. It was only getting worse.
"And it all started when you brought that Potter child into this house!" she hissed.
At this, Alcied's eyes narrowed on the portrait of his mother. How dare this woman besmirch Willow's judgment.
"What would you have us do mother? Leave the boy who is supposed to be the Dark Lord's equal to the hands of muggles who would have killed him?" he hissed, for the first time, in all the night, a fire began to light in his heart. Even if it was the fire of anger, it was warmth that Alcied seized, and held tightly to.
This woman had been the bane of his childhood.
Now she was threatening to become the bane of Hadrian's child hood.
Alcied eyed the frame in which she sat, and suddenly, he was in the mood for revenge.
He cast a wandless spell at the portrait, prohibiting her from moving to another portrait. He grinned, enjoying the panic in her painted eyes far to much.
Her 2D panic put him in a fit of laughter, and even more so when he cast a flame spell at the portrait. He watched with glee as it burned, his mother's screams echoing up from the magical painting.
The darkness in his heart would settle no longer. It was time he let it out.
He needed something to drink.
He cast anti fire charms around the portrait. He walked calmly over to the liquor cabinet in the far corner of the study. He quickly picked a brandy, and uncorked the bottle of the oldest choice.
He eyed the glasses that were set aside for a drink. He merely picked one up, and threw it towards the fire. He couldn't help the slight grin as the glass broke on his mother's face.
He felt cold. A coldness that no fire could ever hope to warm had settled upon his soul.
And thus he began to plan for the future.
. . .
Albus Dumbledore listened to Snape's story of what happened.
"And then he killed Willow Croÿ." Snape finished explaining what he'd gathered. Of course he'd left out the fact that he'd not only taken part in this, he'd killed someone with the killing curse.
Those were facts Dumbledore didn't need. They had nothing to do with the Dark Lord. So the question stood... Why had he been so happy to take down Yaxley?
It didn't make sense to him. Before this night, he'd never even been annoyed with Yaxley. So why now?
The darkest part of his mind had pointed out how close Yaxley had been to Alcied when he'd handed the report over to them.
Snape shook that thought off. This was not the time, or the place to examine such frivolous thoughts. He was a busy man, with many things to do, and plenty more to think about than the ridiculous notions now floating through his mind.
Albus made a soft noise.
"What an interesting development. All this over the heir of the Croÿ family?" he asked. Snape nodded stiffly.
"Yes. Willow specifically asked that I help him settle in once he gets to Hogwarts. She believed that he would end up in Slytherin." he announced.
He had to tell this man the truth, but he could easily twist little parts of the truth to make them his realities.
Dumbledore's trust in him was so complete that he no longer tried to breech Severus' mind. This notion would have touched Severus, if he wasn't so furious at Dumbledore for what had been done to him.
Forced into this roll, not by the Dark Lord, but by the Light one. How saintly.
Snape forced down the sigh. He wondered who would it have been, if not him. He almost shuddered at the possibilities.
He couldn't picture many people as a spy. About the only person he could picture in this position would be Remus Lupin... If he could keep it together around Greyback.
He wanted to go home, and finish off the rest of the bottle of firewhisky Willow had left at his home.
Albus nodded. "We shall have to watch the boy. He may show great potential." Albus said. Fawks trilled softly, as if agreeing.
. . .
Sirius carefully tucked Hadrian in. He had cried himself to sleep, and in all truths, Sirius felt he would do the same soon enough.
He moved to the door, and opened it almost silently. He flipped the latch as soon as the door would allow, locking it from within.
He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to raise a child, let alone teach the boy.
Why hadn't Willow left him foot notes, and emergency numbers?
He sighed as he made his way to his room, but quickly changed course as he thought more about the woman who had been lost tonight.
He found himself in her room. The cream and honey colored walls, normally a welcoming color, seemed the opposite with out here here.
The hangings on her large four poster bed were open, and the bed looked inviting. Sirius laid down. It still had her scent. Honeysuckles.
Sirius smiled. He remembered when they were young how he'd constantly told her she reeked, even more so after he'd managed the animagus transformation. She'd always told him that he smelled like a wet dog.
Sometimes, he wished he could go back to those days. He reminisced about the things he would do differently.
He was so lost in thought, he never felt the tears coming until they trekked down his cheeks.
He felt lost and unsure of what to do now. It didn't help that Alcied had come home, and had been like a zombie. Well, up until the insane laughter had come from the study.
He had locked Hadrian's door, just in case Alcied got any funny notions.
He wished James and Lilly had never died. That they were here now, holding their son, and were one big happy family.
Sure, Willow would have probably never come back from France, but he would have eventually given in, and brought her back. He was sure that he could have done it so long as Alcied had played nice.
But this was not a perfect world, and none of this was going away. Things he had to face, and move on from.
He knew it would take time, and great effort, but he knew he could move on.
Now was the time for mourning. Now was the time for remembering. Now was the time to rip open old wounds to let them heal again.
But he couldn't help to let his imagination wander into the 'what ifs'. What if he could have had a family?
He didn't know if he'd ever find out now.
. . .
END!
Such a sorrowful note to leave it on.
Question!
What house do you think you would have ended up in, had you gone to Hogwarts?