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-o-o-o-

There was a cool smirk drawn over pale lips as unseen eyes bore out into an empty stone basin set with a single, seemingly plain stone settled in its center. Lips pursed, for a moment, before a wand, shrouded too deeply in darkness to be truly seen, flicked and swished with a calculated precision. When it finished, the basin slowly filled, a deep, shimmering silver liquid bubbling and swirling into place. In it, images of a boy, hair the color of a raven's wing and eyes glittering like emeralds struggled, defiantly against situations of no small danger.

The stone rose with the bubbling silver, floating atop it as it swayed and rocked about in time to the rippling surface. Beneath that cool, shadowed gaze, thin lines of silver rose up from the basin's contents and trisected the stone in perfect unity, before with a sudden crack, the stone broken into three, separate pieces. Each was drawn back, affixing to the edge of the basin, forming a perfectly equal triangle of unconnected points.

For a moment, the surface of the silver roiled and rose like an angry sea, bubbling and twisting without seeming rhythm or reason. Then suddenly from its center it smoothed in a growing circle flat, straight silver, stilling the rippling waves all the way onto the edge. When it finished, it was as if staring into a fine, polished mirror.

It was then, that he reached down, his voice soft, almost indistinguishable from the throbbing hum of power surrounding him. "Three drops of his blood, to call those who would save him."

A splash of crimson fell once, then twice more, each flattening atop its own point of that triangle that wasn't. Three drops that fell down the pointed tip of those broken stones and then slid down into a thread thin line across the smooth silver surface, until they pooled into a triangle in the basin's center.

"Three drops, for three souls, to catch them, to anchor them, to bind them as the race back in defiance… From their streams to this, to not undo what has already been." The voice murmured softly , before that want touched down, and slowly traced along the waiting rim of the bowl, and a line of blue flame leapt up around the edge.

"Three and no more, in their quest to save him." And the wand was withdrawn, as the bowl flared once, the azure fire rising up, before curling back, forming a dome atop the bowl, before there was a flash, and a burning heat of the dome receded into a throbbing dim glow.

Then, another bowl appeared, and the smirk was almost visible in the voice. "And now… for the others."

-o-o-o-

Hermione Granger spat out the mix of blood and saliva past her lips, as she absently remembered her one of her parent's lectures about just how many germs dwelled in the human mouth. As she stared up at the malicious smirk curled past too perfect teeth that were just too white, she couldn't help but imagine the vile things that hide behind it. The germs, as well as the thing that called itself a man.

"Really, Ms. Granger, you used to be such a good girl." Gilderoy Lockhart's voice purred out as he smiled down at her in a way that had been devastating to her 13 year old self. "So eager to please, so eager for my attention."

He gave a theatrical sigh as he shook his head. "Then you went and let yourself get corrupted by all those ideas of what is good and what is right." A shake of his head. "Really, forgetting all about what really matters… people worshipping and adoring you! What else is there compared to that?"

"Y-you, you're nothing… a charlatan and a fraud!" Hermione managed to snap out, trying to work up enough blood and spit to launch at him. "All you're doing is…"

"Giving people what they want." Gilderoy cut in, with that same confidant smile on his lips, brushing off a bit of dust from his jacket sleeve even as he brought the heel of his well polished boot onto her wrist even as she reached for her wand. "And tut tut… really that won't do, not at all."

She bit back a scream at the motion, even as she stared up at him, with angry, watery eyes. "Just kill me already and be done with it!"

"Kill you?" Gilderoy tilted his head to the side and smiled as he shook his head. "Now, really my dear, why in Merlin's name would I do something so… barbaric? I mean, really, I've never killed anyone in my life! Heaven forbid the very thought!"

"You kill plenty." Hermione snarled as she tried to pull her wrist out from under his heel, only to found it stuck the, not even budging in the least.

"Handy little charm, isn't it?" Gilderoy smiled back at her, gesturing with a limp flick of his wrist. "Once these boots of mine touch down, until I want to step off again, they, and anything beneath them, stay firmly attached to the ground. It wouldn't do for someone of my… personage to go and do something unseemly like tripping and falling."

"Bastard!" She hissed again as she struggled to reach for her wand with her other hand, knowing full well it was out of reach.

"That, was nothing but a filthy, baseless rumor put together by petty, sad individuals looking to besmirch my good name." He corrected primly before shaking his head. "Now, where were we, hmm?"

"You're a liar and a hyprocrite." She tried to pick up a rock, and slam it into his shoe, only to have it transform into fluffy polish buffer along the way.

"As I said, I give people exactly what they want." Gilderoy laughed softly as he gestured towards the adoring woman smiling distantly a short distance away. "And really, they'd rather believe the lies. So much easier, so much more… pleasant for them."

"And when they kill for you, it might as well be your hand." Hermione hissed out as Gilderoy splayed the immaculate, manicured fingers of his free hand across a stylish and freshly pressed shirt, as if in shock.

"Really, it wounds me you think that poorly of me, I never condone such a wasteful thing." Shaking his head, he smiled his prize winning smile at her before casually, delicately pointing his wand at her. "Not when there are so many more… humane ways of settling things."

"I'll find out the truth about you again, and again and again! No matter how many times you oblivate me!"Hermione snarled now, a caged, trapped thing as wild desperation started to flash through her eyes.

"Really, my dear, I thought a witch as bright as yourself would realize that who you are, is merely a sum of your memories." Gilderoy smiled, patronizingly back at her. "And surely you can understand what that means, can't you?"

She frowned, a trickle of icy dread knifing down her spine. "No…"

"Oh yes… I admit that Dumbledore was quite the tricky one, took me forever to get him where I could properly…. Arrange things." Again that brilliant, cold smile shining down into her. "But, once I did… well, I'm sure you know how he came around to my way of thinking. After that…?"

He shrugged, gesturing away. "Really, quite the shame about the Potter boy, he would have been such an incredibly… useful figure, under myself and my tutelage of course. But really, he was just too stubborn for his own good."

"You… you…" Hermione stared up at him, unable to form the words as the tears poured down her cheeks.

"Yes, he was quite adept at escaping my traps, and saving the rest of you. Still, he never realized just what I had found, when he was caught on the other side of that rubble. Ah well." He shrugged again, before smiling. "And I couldn't quite get that need to kill him out of that delightful Weasley girl. I left too much of what was already there, really."

He leveled his wand back at her and smiled again. "Fortunately, I've learned from then. Rip it all down… build it back up in your image, and they'll be everything you want them to be." He chuckled again and smiled. "Adeiu, naughty, naughty Hermione… Don't worry, I'll make sure you never miss a minute of who you were."

"NO!" She screamed, wild, desperate as she sobbed.

"OBLIVATE!"

-o-o-o-

Ron Weasley was tried, aching, and he could feel the way the tenuous grip of his fraying with each passing moment. A rough, shuddering breath heaved past his lips as he stared, warily back at the bound and chained trap door. Around him, there was a disgusting emptiness, a silence in the air that just didn't fit the his home.

Shaking his head, he stepped over the cold, bloodless corpse of a man that might have, at one point in time, been his brother Percy, and pulled the bottle of fire whiskey his father had kept on hand for special occasions out of the dusty cupboard it had hidden away in. No use let it go to waste after all. For a moment, he glanced back at the chained down door, before he brought the bottle to his lips and took a sip.

A grimace leapt across his face at the taste, and he slowly looked back at it with a small measure of disgust. "Bloody hell, what's supposed to be so great about this shite?"

Then, suddenly the trap bounced up, as if from a great impact, chains shaking and rattling as they strained but held. Turning his head, he glared back at the commotion. "Oi! Keep it down in there! Some of us are trying to have a little peace and quiet!"

Only, they thumped, harder, pushing back up straining the chains even further. Glaring a bit, Ron stalked over and then roughly stomped down on the door, earning a sudden, whimpering grunt from what was hidden beneath. "I said, keep it down!"

"Now, now… is that any way to treat family, ickle Ronniekins?" The voice whispered through the air, sing songing echoes that bounced around him.

Instantly, he froze, feeling the blood falling from his face as his hand shakily took hold of his wand. "So, I guess you found me, finally."

"Hide and seek, lost and found… So easy to see where Ronnie was home bound." The voice suddenly giggled as he shifted around, eyes frantically shifting, searching.

Nothing in front of him. Nothing to the right or the left, and nothing behind him. That left.. His eyes flicked up, just in time to jump away from the thing, spidery figure dropping from the ceiling onto the spot he'd been just moments before.

"Bloody hell." Shakily, his wand rose up, his eyes wide and panicked as he stumbled back, falling onto his ass as he tried to scramble away.

"Aww, what's the matter, Won-won, aren't you happy to see us?" Limp, dull red hair fell greasy and unkempt against pale, sunken cheeks as too pale lips pulled back to reveal dark stained teeth. "How about you give us a kiss, hmm?"

A desperate, wordless blasting hex was almost negligently dodged as she crouched back down, grinning at him with baggy, reddened eyes. Clucking her tongue, she shook her head and grinned, viciously back at him. "Now, that wasn't nice, not nice at all… I mean, you don't do that to family!"

There was a pause, before suddenly the previously still body of Percy let off a hissing moan and suddenly began to fail, mindlessly towards Ron. "Well, maybe you do at least. But, Percy always was a bit of a ponce, wasn't he?"

"Argh!" The gurgled scream lasted a moment as Percy's mouth bit into his arm, before a solid punch sent the animated corpse reeling back and a moment later a hissed cutting curse separated the head at the mouth. "Bloody fuckin'…!"

"Language, Ronald Billius Weasley!" The words were snapped out in a mockery of maternal reprimand, before the voice broken into a series of giggles. "Oh, now you just went and made a mess of my little Percy toy."

Pushing a piece of cloth onto the bleeding wound, Ron staggered to his feet even as he continued to back away. "You… you…"

"V, W, X, Y and Z." The figure bobbed her head as she grinned back at him. "You should really get those wracktspurts looked at." There was a pause before she shrugged her shoulders and giggled again. "Well, you should if it mattered what was going on in that head of yours."

Eyes screwing shut for a moment, Ron fought down the acidic bile that ate its way up his throat. Slowly opening them again, he glanced around the room. At the windows, sallow, dead faces stared back at him, pressed against the glass as he could hear the thumping impacts on the doors.

"Bugger." His eyes turned, speculatively towards the stares, only to watch as suddenly she leapt over, and landed, crouched on the banister.

"Now, you wouldn't be wanting to leave the party, now would you?" Her head turned, owl-like as she shook her head and grinned back at him. "Oh no, much, much too soon for that… and we've been waiting for you. Don't you want to be with everyone else?"

"I kind of prefer my soul being where it is, thanks." Ron shifted again, leveling his wand at her as he could feel the icy pit sinking down in his stomach. "And I think I'd rather help them get free of you."

"Mmm… but they make my tummy feel all warm and tingly." She pouted back at Ron. "Everyone's here… Except for Harry." She frowned then. "He went and got away, and I didn't get to play with him."

Ron winced softly as he remembered the empty, glazed look on Harry's waxen features when he'd found him. Dead and gone before she could have her way with him, devouring him. It had been a small victory at least. "Thankfully."

"Now, that wasn't nice." She frowned, pulling creasing lines down her face as she glared back at him. "Big brothers are supposed to take care of their little sisters, don't you remember? You wouldn't want me to go hungry would you?"

"I'd love to see you starve." Ron managed to grind out even as he could hear the audible crack of a door breaking, and the gaunt, faltering steps entering the home.

"Not tonight, my dear, big brother." She curled her lips back, smiling that stained smile back at him as her fingers dug, tightly into the wood and her body coiled with anticipation. "Or any other night, I'm afraid. Time for you to join us, Ronnie-kins."

"Bugger this." Ron hissed out, before he brought his wand up to his own head. "I'll neve-…"

Only, suddenly her hand was on his throat. The distance between them gone faster than the blink of an eye as his wand was snapped out of his hand. He let out a gurgling scream as half his fingers broke under tha harsh motion, back down at her.

"Nuh, uh, uh…." She waggled her finger from side to side. "Don't you remember? No rough housing at home…"

"Screw, you…" He managed to hiss out, before his eyes bulged out as he felt her hand grabbing hold of his cheeks, covering his mouth.

"Oh, Ronnie… I never knew you felt that way! Such dirty thoughts about your sister…" She giggled again, as he could feel the hooks sinking in, digging past his skin, taking hold of soul. "I can't wait to taste them all!"

And with that, in one, violent, ripping tug, he could feel it, ripping him out of his flesh, tearing him out of his body. It was numbing and excruciating all at once. In that moment, he could feel the darkness claiming him as the last sound he heard was an echoing giggle, rippling through the air.

-o-o-o-

Draco Malfoy lay as still as he could against the cold, dark vines surrounding him. They weren't tight, not yet at least, merely snug enough to hold him in place. Still, he knew how easily that could change with just the slightest of struggles to escape.

"Having fun there, Draco old chap?" Smiling cheerfully, Cedric Diggory swaggered in, his lips pulled back into a casual smirk. "Things not too tight I trust? Snug enough to be comfortable?"

"Diggory." Draco hissed the world like venom as he glared back at him.

"Why, yes, amazing, you actually can learn to address people by their names! Why, I'm sure the wizarding world will be stunned to learn of it! A Malfoy, actually working past the stupidity of his Slytherin roots! It'll be all the rage for all of, oh… perhaps five minutes? If I'm feeling generous. No one really much cares about a house of lazy traitors anymore."

Draco's jaw clenched as he started to shift, just enough to feel the way the devil's snare vines reflexively pulled tighter into his skin.

"What, no snotty remarks, no insults of declarations of how your father is going to make me pay?" Cedric shook his head, releasing a theatrical sigh of sadness. "Whatever would poor, poor Harry say?"

"Something infinitely more worthwhile to listen to." The vines tightened on his throat at that, leaving Cedric to slowly shake his head.

"Ah, such wit, such banter, you cut me to the quick." He laughed softly, before his lips curled back into a smirk. "If you weren't such a pathetic little shite that couldn't so much as wipe his own ass without calling out for your father to help you."

Draco's face flushed at that, twitching as he could feel the way the vines tightened again against the way he trembled with rage. "You…"

"Oh, do go and stuff it." Cedric dropped down onto a nearby couch and studied Draco with a kind of bored amusement. "Your father won't be coming to your rescue, and your mother…" There was a pause, before he looked back at Draco with a slow drawn, lecherous smirk. "Well, she certainly looks quite nice in her new uniform. Who knew she had such nice legs?"

When Draco made no response beyond a strangled gasp, Cedric smirked back at Draco. "Yes, she's learning the value of hardwork, she was quite the defiant little maid at first, I'm told, but we broke her down rather quickly. You arrogant little pillocks never really know how to last."

"I'll…" Draco managed to gasp out as he stared at Cedric.

"Do nothing." Cedric noted with a cold smirk. "The only hope, you might've had was dear, dear Harry." There was a pause, as Cedric looked almost wistful at the name. "A pity really, wasting his potential like that with those lazy glory hounds. He showed such determination in the tournament. I half regret leaving him there to die at your little fool of a Dark Lord."

"Really, Cedric, it's hardly becoming for you to taunt the converts." A new, matronly voice cut in, as Pomona Sprout walked forward, dressed in a silken black robe and holding onto a leash with one hand. "Especially ones as… lackluster as this one."

As she sniffed in disdain, Draco's eyes followed the leash, and bulged as he saw what was on the other end. His mother. Only, her eyes stared down at the floor, empty, her normally regal posture slumped into submission as she moved with quiet, precise steps where Sprout led her.

"Ah, saw the new Hufflepuff maid, did you?" Sprout smiled, benignly back at Draco, as she reached out, lightly patting Narcissa Malfoy atop her head. "I've been told she's kept the boys quite… entertained. And even some of the girls."

"Nothing like a good bit of motivation to help one keep pressing the nose to the grindstone." Cedric agreed with a smirk coiling on his lips.

"Mother!" Draco managed to gasp out the word, struggling, violently against the vine restraining him only to bite back a scream of pain as he felt the vines tightening onto his body as he felt his bones groaning in protest.

"Tut, tut, Mr. Malfoy." Sprout shook her head and glanced in mock sadness back to Narcissa. "Really, little Cissy, didn't you teach your son any manners?"

"He was always a worthless son, as you said, Mistress." Narcissa repeated, dully, as if reading from a script as she never lifted her head up.

"Oh, quite right, quite right." Sprout nodded as she patted Narcissa's cheek. "Well, don't worry, I'm sure we can correct his deficiencies once we've properly sorted him out."

"I don't really think he'll ever make proper Hufflepuff material." Cedric noted with a slight smirk. "Too much of a ponce, really."

"Yes, Sir." Narcissa agreed quietly. "All Malfoys are just worthless ponces needing to be put in their places."

"What did… you… do to her…?" Draco managed to hiss out as he stared back at his mother with abject horror.

"Oh, we simply converted her over to the cause." With a negligent wave of her hand, Sprout smirked softly at Draco. "You'll be joining her soon enough, don't worry about that. We have your place all picked out, serving with that good for nothing Longbottom boy, Neville, in the laundry rooms for our… elders. Really, thinking he was good enough for one of my Puffs? I never."

"You get to clean up all their shit and piss stained sheets and clothes." Cedric agreed with a smirk.

As Draco continued to look on in horror, Cedric nodded his head. "Oh, yes… I'm sure we'll have plenty of work for you."

"How… how can you be doing this…? The Imperius…" Draco ignored the way he could feel his limbs going numb, fighting, back trying to focus his thoughts.

"Oh, nothing so crude as that!" Sprout shook her head and chuckled softly. "Once we'd managed to… bring certain individuals into the fold, as it were, it was quite easy to… come up with something much more… permanent."

"Weasley… Granger…" Draco struggled to say the names as he could feel the way everything seemed to be spinning.

"Too busy splitting the world apart into their opposing sides. Too caught up in their petty little power plays between each other to notice what's going on under their noses." Cedric waved his hand dismissively, before smirking softly. "Honestly, we were lucky to get you when we did. Granger already got Crabbe and Weasley got Goyle. It was something of a contest between them on who could get you."

"Without Mr. Potter, it was remarkably easy to make them into such wonderful little monsters." Sprout sighed happily and shook her head. "A few little pushes, here and there… and it was so easy to… guide them on the right path to dealing with that pathetic little abomination, Riddle. Even easier to turn them onto one another."

"And when the dust settles, and they finish ripping each other apart, leaving their most devoted, their most powerful dead with them, or exhausted and helpless, who do you think is going to swoop in, and save the day?" Cedric smirked, oh so viciously back at Draco. "It really is just such a wonderful little scenario, for everyone."

"Well, not for Draco here. But then, who cares about how things work out for a little piece of filth like him?" Sprout admitted as she eyed him carefully. "I think he should just about be ready for his injection."

"Quite right!" Cedric agreed with a nod. "Shall we have Cissy do the honors?"

"Oh, capital idea, my boy, capital idea." Sprout agreed, as she pushed a brass handled syringe into Narcissa's hand. "Do be a good dear and give your son his medicine, won't you, Cissy?"

"Yes, Mistress. Draco needs his medicine." Narcissa repeated as she almost mechanically took hold of the syringe and advanced on her son. "I must give him his medicine…"

"Mother…" Draco managed to croak out, even as the tears poured down his cheeks.

"Shh… Draco, time for your medicine. It will make it all better." Narcissa answered back, before she reached up, and pushed the syringe into his neck, and pushed in the plunger.

For a moment, Draco felt only a spreading burn that pulsed in his neck. He struggled to scream, only to have the vines, finally tighten to the point he could see stars, spreading across his eyes. For a moment, he tried, feebly to struggle, to escape, only the dull burn suddenly became an inferno, and he let off one last, strangled scream before his world collapsed into darkness.

-o-o-o-

As one, three figures suddenly awoke, staring out into world as they awoke in bodies both familiar, and alien all the same.