AN: With this chapter we move into the third part of the story. If the first two parts were establishing where we are in this world, this is going to be our turning point. Hope you enjoy it!

Draco let the letter crumble in his hand, whispering the Incendio charm under his breath. The ash slipped through his fingers, a reminder of the weight he carried and the ever-tightening leash his father held. He took a deep breath, trying to steel himself for what was to come.

Part 3: The Chimera's Struggle

Chapter 10: Take me back - This is the World We Made

It seems the last twenty four hours had evaporated most of the good cheer that the Holidays had brought. Kreacher had all but disappeared from Grimmauld, likely preserving his own hide from Sirius' wrath. Lupin and Harry had come down shortly after Sirius disapparated from Grimmauld and found River silently crying in the library. Neither one of them tried to get her to talk, both just moving to sit on either side of her. It was only when Lupin put his arm around her and pulled her to lean against him did the dam seem to break open and her silent sobs turned into pained cries and an apology to Harry, that she was just trying to help and not break his confidence. Harry just leaned next to her, and told her he knew.

I am not the only traveler
Who has not repaid his debt
I've been searching for a trail to follow again

River retired to her room before Sirius returned from Hogwarts, she did not sleep that night, but made no move to try and talk with Sirius further. River wondered if she'd made a mistake trusting Sirius to understand. She could still feel the bite of his anger, and the echo of her own words felt hollow now—like an apology whispered into an empty room. Sirius also did not try and seek her out.

As a result, returning to King's Cross Station the next day was a somber affair. Sirius and Lupin exchanged brief smiles and hugs with both River and Harry before they boarded the Hogwarts Express, but they masked the heaviness that had followed them from Grimmauld. While Harry had offered to sit with her, River had declined and said she would go find Ginny or Luna. She instead found an empty compartment, drew the shutter closed, locked and warded the door. She curled up on the seat, knees pulled tightly to her chest, and buried her face into Nyx's fur. The small creature's rhythmic purring seemed to be the only thing anchoring her as the train lurched forward, each mile back to Hogwarts feeling like a step away from the warmth she'd almost felt at Grimmauld.

I had all and then most of youSome and now none of you

By the time the train returned to Hogwarts, River felt like a ghost, floating through the motions, losing time in her thoughts…fighting internally to try and retain the sense of security that seemed to be ripped from her grasp. Watching students reunite with their friends on the platform felt like looking through a foggy window.

Even with her headphones on, she doesn't know how she makes it back to the Slytherin common room. Time filters through her eyes and multiple thoughts float around her like fragments of broken glass, sharp and disjointed. All she knows is that when time seems to snap back into focus, Theo is there, the concerned lines on his face sharpening as she blinks away the haze. His eyes flicker over her, assessing, as if she's something fragile he's afraid might shatter.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do."She says quietly to Theo.

Theo doesn't say anything, he just brings her into a deep embrace. Pansy and Blaise are quick to follow, just giving her the grace to try and ground herself in their embrace. Pansy takes River and Nyx to their room after a few minutes, quickly banishing the other girls lingering about. Pansy manages to get her to lay down in her bed and draw the curtains around the four poster bed. River's mind slips through time in pieces, and the next time her focus seems to clear, a familiar icy presence is wrapped around her.

"Take me back to the night we met." River says quietly as the arm thrown over her middle tightens around her, the frost of his mind settling gently on her skin. She doesn't ask how Draco got past the wards, and he doesn't press her to talk. He just holds her tightly.

Theo, Pansy, Blaise, and Draco did not bring up what they saw in River's fragile state when she returned to Hogwarts. They each had their own share of secrets and skeletons, they didn't press her to share hers. But the first two weeks they didn't let her leave their side. Their presence and music was grounding, and slowly they started to see her retreat from the ghost that she had been. By the third week, River had managed to laugh with Theo, and Draco found her dancing in the dungeons with a smile on her face.

Ginny, Luna, and Hermione gave her space, Harry had obviously mentioned something had happened over the Holiday to them, but had been vague given his involvement. Harry's vagueness led Ginny and Hermione's minds to make a few guesses Sirius may not have reacted well to Draco and River's mutual interest in each other. No one tried to correct them, as it made it easier to move on from. Luna was the only one who seemed to be able to read between the lines that furrowed on River's head without her saying anything at all. "You will figure it out." Luna told River quietly one day when they were both in the Library studying before she reached over and grabbed River's hand across the table. River only squeezed Luna's hand back.

Nearly three months after they returned from Hogwarts, as the Winter months thawed into the early stages of Spring, River is finally a semblance of her old self. Seeing this, Harry decides to broach what happened that last day at Grimmauld.

River's POV

As I descend the Astronomy Tower stairs after class, I hear the familiar melody of Harry's mind waiting for me at the bottom. Draco and Pansy are both walking with me, and when they see Harry, they both turn to me asking for my silent approval to leave me.

I quickly nod at them both. "It's okay. I will see you both in the Common Room."

Draco nods his head and turns to leave, and I catch a small sneer on his lips as he passes Harry. Pansy on the other hand is not silent. "You upset her and you will regret it, Potter." She says as she bumps into his shoulder on purpose.

Harry glares at Pansy's retreating form, but doesn't say anything to her otherwise. He then turns back to me. "Up for a chat?" He asks.

I nod my head and follow him back up the Astronomy Tower stairs. Professor Sinistra had left earlier, and it would be easy to say we were finishing an assignment if a Prefect caught us. We get all the way to the top before Harry says anything.

"I'm sorry, River…I asked for your help with something, but I didn't think Sirius would react that way." Harry says.

"I know. I think he was more upset that I talked to his mother at first, but something about Horcruxes made him really nervous. Something he didn't share with us, and something I don't think Dumbledore has shared with you."

Harry runs a hand through his hair, frustration flickering across his face. "I've been trying to piece it together, but Dumbledore's only told me so much. He thinks that the memory of Slughorn's is the last piece of the puzzle."

I cross my arms, leaning back against the cold stone wall. "Harry, I've read a bit about Horcruxes since then. I know enough to understand that this is dark magic— the darkest there is. But if Slughorn doesn't want to remember, what right do we have to force it out of him?"

Harry meets my gaze, his expression pained but resolute. "I know it doesn't feel right, River. I don't like it either. But I wouldn't ask you to do this if I thought there was another way. We're running out of time, and I'm running out of options."

I look away, the weight of the decision pressing down on me like a vice. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable using my abilities like that. Pulling thoughts that don't want to surface—it feels like crossing a line. Slughorn… he's afraid of something, and I don't think it's just Voldemort."

Harry takes a step closer, his voice quieter but no less earnest. "You're right. He's afraid of what he knows, what he's done, but that memory could be the key. Dumbledore wouldn't have asked me to get it if it weren't essential. I need your help, River. You're the only one who can do this."

I study him, seeing the desperation in his eyes, and feel the pull of loyalty once again. "I'll try, Harry. I'll try to help you, but I'm not going to force it. If Slughorn can't bring himself to remember, then maybe there's a reason."

Harry nods, relief softening the tension in his face. "That's all I can ask. Thank you, River." He hesitates, then adds, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

I offer a faint smile, though my heart is still heavy. "Let's just hope we're not about to open a door that's better left closed."

It took another two weeks for River and Harry to find the right opportunity to approach Slughorn, the end of Spring term in mid April. It would give them an additional two days after exams concluded to try and press Slughorn for the memory he was guarding so tightly.

River's POV

My mind, music, and magic feel disjointed, as if each of them are out of sync with each other…as if every part of me knew what I was about to do was wrong. It's what they did to you…played around and left things broken. Wasn't that for a 'greater good' too? The familiar echo of their hollow promises lingers, tightening in my chest.

Yet walking next to Harry, he felt so sure, so sure this would be the final mystery for him to solve. He'd been through so much already…and he had asked for my help.

"It's going to be okay, River." He smiles at me and offers his hand for a squeeze before we push into Slughorn's classroom.

Slughorn is busy at his desk, grading our most recent assignments. His mind is carefree, an allegro… buoyant, sociable. He looks up when he hears our steps on the stone floor. "Ah, Mr. Potter, Ms. Black, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

I let Harry take the lead for this part, allowing him to pull Slughorn into conversation, allowing me to begin to actually try and see what I can do when I press out with my Legilimency. "Sir, we have some questions, if you don't mind."

"Not at all, I can always make time for students such as yourselves."

Riddle. I try to push out mentally.

"Sorry, did you say something Ms. Black?"

"No, I'm sorry, Sir, I was just admiring your hourglass."

"Ah, yes, most intriguing object" Slughorn recovers, chalking up whatever he thought he heard as a mistake. "The sand runs in accordance with the quality of the conversation. If it is stimulating, the sand runs slowly. If it is not…" He says as he motions to the device on his desk, the sand appears to slow down. "So, what were your questions?"

Harry jumps in here. "I had a question about a former student…about Tom Riddle, Sir."

I feel the spike of Slughorn's magic, his mind screeches as if a violin string has snapped. It's clouded and dissonant, much like my heartbeat at this moment.

"You knew him, didn't you, Sir? You were his teacher." Harry presses.

Slughorn stammers, choosing his words carefully while wiping his now sweaty palms on his trousers and standing up. "Mr. Riddle had a number of teachers whilst here at Hogwarts," Slughorn says, turning away. His fingers curl tightly around the edge of his desk, knuckles pale. The pause lingers, stretching as if he's daring himself not to break.

I still can't hear anything specific, but I feel like a wall is being built inside his mind. It's muffling the music that is still clashing in his head. "What was he like?" I ask cautiously.

Slughorn turns to me, his eyes somewhat warry. "Why on earth would you ask that?"

"I'm sorry, Sir. Forgive me. He killed my parents." Harry steps in, trying to draw Slughorn's attention back to him.

"Of course, it's only natural you should want to know more. But I'm afraid, I must disappoint you, Harry. When I first met young Mr. Riddle, he was a quiet, obedient, brilliant boy committed to becoming a first rate wizard. Not unlike others I've known. Not unlike yourself, in fact."

Lie. Lie. Lie. There is fear laced in his words, his music is all but a whisper behind a block wall. Slughorn's words couldn't be further from the truth. I feel bile rising in my throat but press on. Harry is counting on me.

"That's not true… is it Sir?" I say as I walk closer to him.

Slughorn's eyes grow like saucers. "How could you possibly know that?"

I press a little further, a block in his mind seeming to come loose. "You're afraid. That's what he told you. 'Don't be afraid.'"

"Yes." Another brick coming loose under the pressure.

"But you're afraid."

"Yes." Now another three bricks fall in his mind.

"You're afraid of what it would feel like, feeling like you're going to run out of air. That you'll die gasping. But you won't."

There is a mental give in Slughorn's mind, almost resignation, as his mind seems to catch up with what is happening. He stares into my eyes, conveying his remorse in that one look.

"You don't know what he was like…even then. Please, just…don't think poorly of me when you see it." Slughorn says as he sits back down in his seat.

"Legilimens."

…..

Secrets follow us
Visions, we can't forget

I feel like I am standing in the bottom of a cauldron, black smoke wafts all around me, coming up from the ground to form almost a grainy movie reel. Except I am standing in the middle of the scene, part of it. Everything shifts… the smoke forming into more solid figures, and I am left with Professor Slughorn talking to a young Tom Riddle.

"Is something on your mind, Tom?" Slughorn asks the young man. Riddle looks no more than a third year in this memory, but even at this age there is an air of menace in how he holds himself.

Everything's twisted
But we don't feel a thing

"Yes, Sir." Riddle responds coolly. "See, I couldn't think of anyone else to go to. The other professors, well, they're not like you….They might misunderstand."

Riddle clearly knows how to play to Slughorn's vanity, and I watch the man preen at the student's words. "Go on."

"In the restricted section. And, I read something rather odd about a bit of rare magic. It's called, as I understand it,...a horcrux."

I can feel Slughorn's horror at what Riddle has asked him about. I can understand it, it is similar to how I felt when I read about them in Regulus' book. "I beg your pardon?"

Prey on the powerful
Masters of the game

"Horcrux…I came across the term while reading. And I didn't fully understand it."

It's a weird feeling, to be standing in someone's memory like this. I can't tell if the disgust and horror I feel is my own or Slughorn's from the memory. It's unsettling, not knowing where the memories' feelings begin and where I end.

"I'm not sure what you're reading, Tom, but this is very dark stuff, very dark indeed." Slughorn tries to deflect.

"Which is...why I came to you." Riddle says, almost with a small hiss in between. Had he already made a horcrux by this point? Had he already fractured his soul?

There's no resisting

"One splits one's soul and hides part of it in an object. By doing so you are protected should you be attacked and your body destroyed."

"Protected?" Riddle presses Slughorn.

"The part of your soul which is hidden lives on. In other words, you cannot die." Slughorn says quietly. My body shivers, and I feel like I might be sick. Immortality. A way to protect yourselves from those who would wish you harm.

But this isn't enough for Riddle, no, he keeps applying pressure, and poor Slughorn can't seem to stop himself. "And how does one split his soul, Sir?"

"I think you already know the answer to that, Tom." Slughorn says with fear in his eyes.

In our blood, in our blood, no escape
Can't outrun, no we can't get away

"Murder." Riddle says nonchalantly, as if he hadn't confirmed his Professor's suspicions.

"Yes. Killing rips the soul apart, it is a violation against nature."

"Can you only split the soul once? For instance, isn't seven…"

I'm going to be sick, I feel myself crumple to the floor in this nightmare. This is what Dumbledore wanted Harry to find out… not if Voldemort made a horcrux, but how many! How many of these things have been discovered? Does Dumbledore know? Does Harry? Why the bloody FUCK wouldn't Dumbledore tell the Order this!

"Seven? Merlin's beard, Tom, isn't it bad enough to consider killing one person? To rip the soul into seven pieces...This is all hypothetical, isn't it, Tom? All academic?"

I look up as the smoke around me starts to fade. But what scares me even more is that Riddle is not looking at Slughorn. As his gaze locks onto me, I feel an invisible force, like cold fingers pressing against my chest, shoving me back. The smoke dissolves, but Riddle's eyes burn into my mind even as I'm thrust back into the present… "Of course, Sir."

This is the world we made

…..

The smoke shatters, and I'm hurled back, the bright dungeon walls and Harry's panicked voice slicing through me like glass. I can't tell where I end and the memory begins—each sound, each touch feels magnified, like my senses are on fire. I feel arms circle around my waist to hold me up, and I flail away from whomever it is.

"River… RIVER!" Harry's voice calls after me as I stumble from Slughorn's office.

My mind races and fragments, each thought is a needle that cuts into my arms, my legs, my head. I press my hand to the cold stone, willing it to stay real, to stay solid. But it flickers, shifting to sterile white walls, and my heart pounds as if trying to tear through my chest. The ground falls away, or maybe it's me falling—I can't tell. I squeeze my eyes shut, desperate to anchor myself.

"River…what did you see?" Harry's voice drifts toward me, but it's warped, as though I'm hearing him through water. His hands on my face feel too warm, too solid. I blink, but he's blurred, half-in, half-out of focus.

"Seven…" I whisper, the only word I can force myself to say as a pained gasp wheezes from my mouth. "He…made…seven."

"Seven…Merlin's balls, we have to tell Dumbledore!" Harry says as his hands try to pull me up.

I convulse as if in pain, in no shape to try and get anywhere quickly. "Go." I say, again gasping, coughing, and sputtering, trying to get my lungs to breathe, my mind to clear.

I feel Harry hesitate, clearly unsure about leaving me in my current state. "Go, I need…some time." I say more forcefully.

"Ok, I'll see you later in the Great Hall for dinner." Harry says as he takes off running down the hall to the stairs up from the dungeon.

I hold my hands over my ears, attempting to drown out any sound but the beating of my own heart. It's like coming off a drug, not quite knowing what is real and what is lingering from the other person's memory. I can just feel the edges of relief washing through my magic when suddenly a wave of agony sears through me…my magic flaring hot, then cold, then nothing. I feel myself sinking into the darkness, every nerve fraying and burning until there's nothing left but the relief of oblivion.

It had taken Harry little to no time to make his way to Dumbledore's office. When he shared the news of what Harry and River had uncovered from Slughorn, Dumbledore looked stricken and pale. Dumbledore's expression, usually so composed, was taut with something close to fear. He gripped Harry's shoulder tightly, his voice low and urgent. "This is much worse than I feared. We must go. Now." as he quickly apparated them out of the Hogwarts wards, not sparing a second to relay to anyone where they were going or when they would be back.

Several hours later, Harry and Dumbledore returned, both barely holding it together after the ordeal they went through with the Inferi in the cave. Dumbledore had assured Harry that he would be alright after a rest, and to go join his friends. Harry had no reason to question Dumbledore and stumbled down to the Great Hall. When he made it there, Hermione quickly caught sight of the state of him, and ran over, Ron following shortly behind.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione says as she places her palms on his face to get a better look at him.

"Where have you been, mate?" Ron asks worriedly.

Harry's hands were trembling, his face pale and drawn, as if he hadn't slept in days. His eyes darted frantically, barely registering Hermione's touch as he searched the hall for River. "It's a…long story. Where is River?" Harry asks as his eyes dart over to the Slytherin table. His eyes widen in horror as she does not see her sitting next to Pansy, Theo, Blaise, or Draco.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione says as she follows his gaze.

Harry doesn't wait to catch any of the snakes' eyes, he just marches towards them.

"Where is she?" Harry asks quietly.

Pansy turns and looks at Harry, taking in his appearance and mock gagging. "Potter, we've talked about this in class. You really…"

But Harry cuts her off before she can continue. "Save the insults Parkinson, where is River?"

Draco's ears are burning at the first mention of River's name and his gaze grows steely as it lands on Harry. "Potter…what did you do?"

"When was the last time you saw her?" Harry's worry and frustration must alarm Draco, Theo, and Blaise.

"This morning…" Blaise says carefully as he looks down the table to see who is listening. It's then that he notices a few notable Slytherins are also missing, namely Pucey, Goyle, Crabbe, and Millicent. "Shit." He says as she gets up.

Draco seems to catch where Blaise's eyes had wandered. They shared a quick look and then a nod, confirming their shared suspicions and came to the same conclusion. Whatever was happening, they needed to stop it before it was too late. "We need to find her…now." Draco said, his voice steely, as he pushed away from the table.

…Several hours earlier…

River's POV

When my eyes flutter open, I feel a coarse rope encircling my arms and legs, tight enough to bite into my skin with the slightest movement. My entire body aches, still feeling the lingering effects of whatever hex I had been hit with. I don't move to sit up, as a pin prick of memory from what I was taught at the Academy springs to mind. Remain calm and use the time you have while your captors don't notice you are awake to gather as much information as possible.

I crack my eyes open without moving my head. I see boxes, boxes stacked higher than I can see from this position, and all kinds of furniture, brooms, sculptures, almost as if I am in a store room. I close my eyes and listen for signs of anything around me. My head still pounds, so everything is muffled, but I hear two voices…talking? Whispering? I use my mind to reach out to see what I can hear and I pick up on at least three distinct minds, but they all blur together so I can't be sure.

"Wakey, wakey Princess." A voice says and I feel my body shudder as my mind registers whose voice I hear.

"Pucey, this all feels very cliche." I say as I feel his hands roughly sit me up.

"Nice to see your wit is intact Black. I was almost afraid that stunner Millicent hit you with had knocked some sense into you."

"You wish." I say as I glare at him.

Pucey smirks, his face too close as he crouches down in front of me, eyeing me with a mixture of amusement and something darker. He's holding my wand, twirling it between his fingers, deliberately taunting me.

"Oh, River, you don't get it, do you?" he says, his tone dripping with condescension. "You've got it all wrong. I'm not the villain in this little fairytale of yours. No, I'm your white knight."

I choke back a laugh, the bitter taste of disbelief clinging to the back of my throat. "You're delusional, Pucey."

He sighs, shaking his head as if he's disappointed in me. "River, River, River. I expected more gratitude." He leans in, eyes gleaming with a twisted sense of purpose. "You've been wandering through this castle like you're lost, tangled up in Dumbledore's web. I'm here to show you the truth. To rescue you from it."

I glare back at him, straining against the ropes binding my arms and legs. "Rescue me? By kidnapping me and taking my wand? That's your idea of chivalry?"

"Don't be so dramatic." He sneers. "This is for your own good. You've been kept from the truth about yourself. They've been lying to you, all of them…I'm here to show you."

He jerks his head toward a Pensieve that's sitting on a cluttered table nearby. The swirling silvery liquid inside seems to pulse, as if it's alive, waiting. "Take a trip down memory lane. You can't run from your past forever."

I try to keep my voice steady, though my heart is pounding. "What did you put in there, Pucey?"

He smirks, satisfied by the hint of fear he senses. "Your memories from the Academy. I was quite curious to see what's inside there. I couldn't really believe it myself." He says almost with glee. "And there's more! I've got a little prophecy to show you—one that might just explain why you're really here...along with some of my own memories you might be quite intrigued by."

He steps closer, gripping my face with one hand, forcing me to look into his eyes. "I'll show you the truth. I'll help you see what you've been running from. And by the time I'm done, you'll thank me."

He pushes me roughly towards the Pensieve, the silver mist rising to meet me as I'm plunged into my own memories. And somewhere, in the back of my mind, his twisted words echo: "I'm your white knight, River. I'm here to save you."

…..

It's an out of body experience… standing in your own subconscious memories. Watching the nightmares you didn't even know you lived through play out in front of you like a horror film. I fight against the cool depths of the pensive pulling me in, but I can still feel Pucey's hands holding me under. It's inescapable…every needle, every experiment, everything they did to me…

"River, we're not telling people what to think. We're just trying to show them how…"

"She's dreaming…Nightmare? Off the charts. Scary monsters….Let's amp it up. Delcium, eight-drop."

"See, most of our best work is done when they're asleep. We can monitor and direct their subconscious, implant suggestions…"

"…the neural stripping gives them heightened cognitive reception, but it also destabilizes their own reality matrix… which at this point is the price for being truly psychic."

And I feel it… I feel as the needles pierce my skull, over and over and over again. Each time more vivid than the last. They weren't just satisfied with once, no, they went in seven times to make sure they had truly left me a broken doll that they could mold into what they wanted.

The anger of my magic flares and burns, but it does no good. I am not sure how many memories I watch from the Academy before I screw my eyes tight, silently crying, trapped. It felt like hours of memories were downloading into my brain, making me dizzy and sick. And just when I feel like they will end, another begins.

"Please god, make me a stone." I plead as I continue to weep.

Why? Why would they do this? Why wouldn't Dumbledore or Snape tell me something, anything? Why would they leave these memories so unguarded that Pucey of all people could find them? Why weren't they protecting me?

But it becomes clear… they never intended to protect me. They planned to exploit me…exploit who I was. Because of what Trelawney saw… because of a stupid fucking prophecy.

"The one who walks in shadow and flame shall be unveiled…" Sibyl Trelawny's voice quakes with the words pouring from her lips. Her eyes are misty and unfocused before she convulses and falls to the floor.

"Severus, now." Dumbledore's voice was calm but his eyes betrayed a flicker of the urgency he had tried to hide. Snape's jaw tightened as he turned on his heel, practically throws his chair back and leaves the room with an angry sweep of his robe

McGonagall's moves to Trelawney's side, cradling her head into her lap and smoothing the hair away from her face. But her eyes grow wide as she listens to what comes next.

"born of both lion and snakes, forged from fire and venom... the Chimera shall stand at the crossroads of light and dark, neither fully bound to one nor the other... and the Dark Lord shall seek to bend its will, but the light shall call it, too... for in the heart of the Chimera lies a power unclaimed, a force that may tip the scales of fate... swayed by the hand that guides it…"

At this moment Snape returns with Madame Pomfrey on his heels.

"… the Chimera will bring either ruin or salvation..." Trelawney says in a broken sob as she collapses into tears under the weight of the words she'd just uttered—words that hung in the air like a storm cloud ready to burst.

I'm not a person to them. I am a weapon. Nothing but a weapon to anyone. Something either side could use to destroy the other. They wanted to stick twenty needles in my eyes and ask me what I saw. My magic boils in my body. I trusted them.

And if this couldn't get any worse, it's then I see the truth of what Pucey's task was…and how Draco… how Draco knew all about it… and what was his task from the Dark Lord.

"Don't let her be a distraction to you both," Snape sneered as he talked with both Pucey and Draco. "You are to recover the prophecy from Trelawney by any means necessary Pucey, and Draco, you must bring her to the Dark Lord's side."

Draco's cool smirk met Snape's icy gaze. "Consider it done, Uncle."

My skin feels like it's burning from the inside out, my hands trembling so violently that I don't know where my body ends and the anger begins. Nothing makes sense…is that my Fugue or something else burned into my brain? what do you want from me? Haven't I been through enough? Haven't they all cut me deep, these secrets and lies…Is that what they wanted from me? Is that what they wanted to see?...do you like what you see? All of them… slipping, like grains of sand.

To see a world in a grain of sand…relive the pictures that have come to pass…Pictures, memories…painted faces, painted lies, deception…when we all fall asleep where do we go? Let me sleep. Let Nyx carry me away on her chariot and let Ker and those little deaths I have run from claim me. Pull me under. Let their embrace wrap me up and hold me safe, free from Eris and Apate.

…They're coming for me…

…Elsewhere..

No one wanted it to be true, no more than they wanted to put their differences aside for the time being. But the more they looked, the more their urgency and panic started to rise. Hermione and Theo took the classrooms inside the castle, Pansy and Blaise searched the Astronomy Tower and Grounds, Ron had run to get Ginny and Luna to help, the later of which quite alarmed she hadn't 'seen' something like this coming, which left Harry and Draco to search together.

"Again Potter, where exactly did you leave her?" Draco questioned Harry, his normally calm mask of indifference slipping further the more time went.

"Here! She was right here!" Harry says as they stalk the hallway down from Slughorn's office again. "She said she just needed a minute to recover, to go on."

"Recover from what exactly?" Draco questions.

Harry gulps. "She…she helped me with something… with Slughorn."

Draco runs a hand over his face in exasperation. "I can't believe you are the boy that lived with this nonsense. What is something with Slughorn Potter? Was she emotional? Scared? What?"

"She…pulled a memory from him. A memory of Voldemort." Harry says sheepishly, still not giving more information to Draco than he must.

"You fucking IDIOT!" Draco's voice trembles with barely suppressed rage. "Do you have any idea what that could do to her? You don't care—you just walk away, leave her behind when she needs you most." Draco's hands shake slightly, but he keeps his gaze fixed on Harry, his anger mingling with an unmistakable edge of fear.

"That's not true!" Harry snaps, but there's a note of doubt in his voice, his guilt seeping through. "You think you're so much better? I've seen you floundering, Malfoy. You're barely holding it together." Harry steps forward until he's toe-to-toe with Draco.

Draco's face contorted with anger. "At least I'm trying to protect her instead of running off to play hero."

"Protector her? From who? You're just a Death Eater anyways!" Harry snaps, deflecting his guilt.

"You really want to go there then?!" Draco's voice drips with icy venom as he doesn't back away from Harry. "Fine, but unlike you, I don't just run off and leave a friend vulnerable. And mark my words, I'd raze everything in my path before I let anyone touch her."

"You two, STOP IT!" Hermione says as she and Theo come running in their direction. "Enough! River's out there, and all you two can do is fight. Get it together, or you'll be the reason we're too late." Hermione steps between them, her eyes flashing with worry.

"Harry…" Hermione says as she pulls him over to the side and tries to hand him something without the other two seeing. She takes a shaky breath before pressing the familiar, worn parchment into his hand, her own fear barely hidden behind her determined expression. "Use the map."

"Share with the class, Granger!" Theo says as he catches her trying to slip the Marauders Map into Harry's pocket.

Harry hesitated to disclose whatever Hermione had slipped him and Draco's eyes narrowed before crumbling slightly to show his worry and desperation. "Potter…please."

Harry shared another glance with Hermione before he opened the map up for all four to look at. "It's a map…it shows where everyone is in the castle." He takes out his wand and says the incantation to reveal the map for all of them.

"Well this explains how you lot never got caught doing anything." Theo says with a chuckle.

"Not the time, Nott." Hermione warns.

Harry and Draco's eyes stare at the map, the silence thick with fear. "She's not here." Draco says with panic around the edges of his words. "Does this show everywhere in the castle?"

"No… it doesn't show…" Harry starts to respond as his mind clicks with realization, and Hermione's eyes also widen as he continues to speak. "The Room… the Room of Requirement."

Draco doesn't wait for another word before he starts sprinting off to the stairs that will take him to the 4th floor. "Theo, get Snape!" He yells over his shoulder.

Harry hands the map back to Hermione frantically. "Go tell Dumbledore Hermione," before he races off, adrenaline surging to try and catch up to Draco.

They don't talk, they just run. By the time they make it to the Fourth Floor corridor, they are both drawing shaky breaths. Normally, the door would be hidden, and if someone was already inside, it would remain that way. But when they get there, the door is visible, the smallest of gaps keeping it from sealing shut, as if someone meant to close it and forgot to check behind them.

Harry and Draco share a momentary glance with each other, each drawing their wands, as they creep into the room. They are both somewhat surprised to see the Room of Hidden things versus something a person would conjure. They slowly navigate through the clutter of discarded items and forgotten treasures, trying not to alert whomever is in here with them.

Their expressions are filled with a mixture of determination and barely-contained fury as they see the back of Pucey holding River's head down into the swirling silver waters of a pensive.

However, before they can raise their wands, they feel the unmistakable pressure of wands in their backs. Both Harry and Draco turn to see Crabbe and Goyle behind them, matching evil sneers on their faces. "Move." Goyle says as he shoves his wand into Draco's back harder.

The four shuffle forward, and it's enough noise for Pucey to look in their direction. "Well, well," Pucey sneers as he regards the two boys. "Here to save the damsel in distress? Touching, really."

Draco's jaw clenches, his teeth almost audibly grinding. "You're going to regret this, Pucey. Let her go, now."

Pucey lets out a low, mocking laugh. "Oh, I don't think so, Malfoy. Just because you seem okay failing the Dark Lord, I have no desire to."

Harry sends an angry glance to Draco on his right now, knowing his earlier accusation wasn't far from the mark after all.

"Oh, did you think Draco had nothing to do with this, Potter? Sorry to disappoint." Pucey says with a smug grin. "Draco here was meant to deliver her to the Dark Lord himself…but it seems he's gotten cold feet. Shame really, this all could have been avoided."

Harry focuses on how River's body appears to be going limp the longer Pucey holds her under. His anger at Draco's involvement is forgotten in favor of trying to figure out how to get River out of here. "You're messing with the wrong people, Pucey."

Pucey rears back and laughs. "Oh Potter, that is truly laughable. The Dark Lord will have what he wants."

"If you think you're clever, Pucey, you couldn't be more wrong." Draco's voice is cold, a deadly calm that seems to chill the air. "If you don't release her, I swear I'll kill you where you stand."

Pucey's grin falters as he meets Draco's gaze, seeing a glint there he hadn't anticipated. "Big words, Malfoy. But we both know you don't have the spine for it."

"Try me." Draco's voice is barely a whisper, but the threat is unmistakable. While Draco's wand isn't raised, his magic crackles with energy around him, and for a moment, Pucey looks genuinely uncertain.

"Draco, don't," Harry warns, but his eyes never leave Pucey. "We need to get her out of there."

Draco ignores Harry, his gaze fixed on Pucey like a predator about to pounce. "You're playing with fire, Pucey. This isn't a game. I will destroy you."

Pucey swallows, trying to regain his composure. "Crabbe, Goyle—take care of them."

But before Crabbe and Goyle can move, Harry and Draco turn and punch the other two boys square in the face. The punch catches both boys off guard, allowing enough time for Harry to yell "Expelliarmus!" and disarm Crabbe as Draco quickly follows suit with Goyle, sending both their wands clattering to the ground away from them.

Pucey was quick on the uptake though, and had violently yanked River from the pensive and pulled her body in front of him as a shield. The room is tense, the air thick with the threat of violence. Pucey looks between the two of them, his smirk growing wider.

Draco steps closer, wand drawn, his voice low and venomous. "If you ever touch her again, you won't leave this room alive."

"Or maybe you won't…" Pucey leans down and says "Excita tempestatem" into River's ear, forcing her eyes to snap open, and then shoving her towards Harry and Draco.

Draco quickly moves to catch River from falling. His arms barely touch hers as he head snaps up, and her face is devoid of any recognition of who he is.

River's POV

White walls… closing in. Am I back there…was it all a dream? I feel arms on me… holding me…"NO! NO! NO!" I try to scream, but the words are lost, swallowed by the silence. Then, cutting through the numbness, I hear it. A voice, something familiar but foreign, tugging at strings buried deep in my mind. "Excita tempestatem." And then it hits me. The music, the pulse. It rises like a tidal wave, flooding my senses.

I tried hard, you know I care
I care, I care
Just a little poor me

…make a man out of a…

The feeling of Deja-vu seeps into my body. Was I standing somewhere, frozen in time, trapped in these memories before? Is this the same old song and dance they pay to see? Do I have to suffer and bleed for them in every lifetime or is this a special hell?

…it will blow your mind…

The world sharpens around me. The programming kicks in, old instincts tearing through me like wildfire. I can feel it blazing inside, igniting nerves, muscles, everything. My senses, hyper-aware, scan the room as if they've been trained for this all along. Shadows twist into figures, and I don't recognize them. I just know they're in my way.

Mirror, mirror on the wall
I'll make sure you crack and fall
I made strides, don't call me sweet
Chaos organizes me

My eyes snap open, and the room warps, distorted, like I'm seeing through a funhouse mirror. I don't know where I am, but I don't need to. It's all just shapes, colors, obstacles. Whoever has grabbed me, I kick out, feeling a satisfying jolt as I make contact. I'm already moving, flowing with a deadly grace I don't question, my body reacting before my mind can catch up. I drive my elbow into another figure beside me, feeling resistance give way under the force.

Everything blurs into a whirl of chaotic motion as I fight, lash out, break free. Something, or someone, tries to block my path, but I'm a storm unleashed, my body twisting, striking, dodging. Nothing can stop me. I'm a weapon, a force. I break past them, hearing shouts and footsteps, but they're lost in the rush.

Thousand yards, embrace that stare
Manic days, I know you know
(Oh, that spiteful face)
Certain things you just can never buy
(Things you'll always chase)

I'm running. It all stretches out before me, twisting, endless. People appear in my path, but they're just more shadows, more barriers. My fists, my feet—they move on their own, driving me forward, smashing through anything in my way. Hands reach out to grab me, jets of light stream by my body, and I don't hesitate. I strike, claw, break free, and keep moving. It's all instinct, all fire. The only thing I know is that I have to escape, have to run, have to be free.

Outside. I don't know how I make it there, but the cold air hits me, sharp, grounding. I'm running across the grounds, away from the shadows and the walls that press in on me. I run until the world blurs again, until the burning in my chest drowns out everything else, until there's nothing but the rhythm of my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

I can't tell you what I feel inside
(What I feel inside)
This feeling burns inside my mind
Just a little poor me

The trail of destruction that River left in her wake as she ran from the castle was more than surprising. Friend, foe, Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff, none were spared from brutal force if they were in her way. Even the teachers who threw every jinx and hex at her they could, were left gob smacked at what the quiet student they knew was capable of. And the spells just seem to brush past her or slide right off, like her body could sense and move in the last second to avoid a different outcome.

As Dumbledore trails after the injured students like breadcrumbs, Harry and Draco come skidding to a halt behind him. Both are severely injured, Harry limping on his left leg, while Draco looks like he may have a dislocated shoulder.

"Mr. Potter… Mr. Malfoy… I take it you weren't the ones to cause this?" Dumbledore says while trying to catch his breath, by no means recovered from his and Harry's earlier peril.

"No…Pucey… he said something… to her." Harry says as he tries to force the words to come between ragged breaths.

Dumbledore's eyes grow serious for a moment. "Thank you, Harry. And you as well, Draco…for what you have both tried to do." Dumbledore says, his voice carrying a weight of finality. He looks at them one last time, a flicker of sorrow and resignation in his gaze, as if acknowledging the burden placed on both of them. Then, without another word, he apparates away, leaving them standing amidst the wreckage.

AN: So now we know some of what was going on behind the scenes. Would love to hear what you all think of all the easter eggs in this chapter ;)