Defiant Blood - Blood and Bone Saga
Chapter 16
Part 2 of Defiant Blood Finale
"Well hello Ronald," Ron saluted himself as he stood consumed in the dark. The familiarity of a self-confidence, so absolute that it was almost not him, had returned. "So, I'm back, or at least this feels like the Night Realm, though I know it isn't…," he thought. "I thought… I think!... Dick!" he scolded himself. "Get a grip lad," he told himself firmly, "we know this, I know this. We're back to thinking aloud again and you know what that means."
He looked around, feeling the familiar and unfamiliar as two spectrums. The vision around him was of smoke and shadow, where anything visible was only so by its contrast of light, partially lit to his eye. The other side of his vision, thanks to his dark eye, offered a depth to the vision around him. The darkness was layered and traversable thanks to his physical differences.
All the same, this place was unfamiliar to him, the familiarity being that he was back at it, speaking thoughts aloud and feeling that part of him that took charge for so long while they travelled the Night Realm. This was not that same place though, nor was it the Shadow Realm.
"Corvus!" Ron bellowed, "brother! … where are you… friend, this is you're doing, yes?"
A muffled voice vibrated around him, loud and terrible in its unforgiving anger. Ron stood, engulfed in the dark, his senses heightened to a surreal clarity. Suddenly, a voice, muffled and laden with ethereal anger, reverberated around him. The sound was chilling, almost incomprehensible, as though it echoed from the dawn of time itself. "Fyrn, drēogan þæt sār... nǽdre þū, se cēne arg... Corvus!"
As the truth of what he was seeing hit him, Ron's breath, though unnecessary in this place, caught.
A figure emerged from the shadows with an ethereal grace, transcending mere human comprehension. Cloaked in the cosmos itself, her garment shimmered with the light of distant stars, weaving a tapestry of the night sky. The cloak was a dark abyss, swallowing all light, yet dotted with constellations that pulsed with ancient, arcane energy.
Her eyes glowed with a fierce intensity. Her voice, ancient and resonant, filled the air. "Eardian ond beran þæt byrðen... Ðú eart min cynn, min blód, min bān."
Ron's mouth gaped, words failing him as he stared in silent disbelief. When he finally managed to collect himself, he shook his head, confusion etched into his features. "I… I don't understand." He looked up, his eyes tracing the towering figure before him. She stood a monumental ten feet tall, an awe-inspiring embodiment of the cosmos itself.
"You should!" she snapped, and Ron felt transported to an age of six, scolded by his mother for saying the wrong thing, looking up to her angered eyes. When she spoke, her voice resonated like the echoes of a thousand whispers, carrying the weight of millennia and the wisdom of countless souls. Her eyes, visible only as glimmers of distant galaxies, pierced through the darkness with an intensity that could see into the very essence of a being.
"Death?"
His voice echoed against the silence that was around them. She remained silent as he took in her presence, both awe-inspiring and terrifying, an embodiment of the inevitable end that awaits all beings. The air around her crackled with an otherworldly energy, causing the very fabric of reality to tremble in her wake. As she moved, shadows seemed to coalesce and dissipate at her command, creating an ever-shifting aura of mystery and power.
"Yes," Death confirmed. Her face, partially hidden beneath her hood, was framed by flowing tendrils of cosmic darkness. The hood itself cast deep shadows, concealing her features in an impenetrable veil.
In her hand, she wielded a great black scythe, its blade forged from glistening obsidian that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. The scythe's handle was etched with runes of ancient power, pulsating with a blue-white light that matched the glow of the stars in her cloak.
"This is no dream!"
"This is no dream," she merely confirmed to him again.
Ron expected the silence that followed but hadn't anticipated the sudden and violent reaction from her. "Where, is, Corvus!" her voice resonated through him, trembling his essence. He only stared blankly at her, and in her frustration, she rushed forward. As she did, as though she took a leap towards him, she shrank in an instant, coming to meet him at his exact height. Levelled off with him and nose an inch from his, she read his face with an air of disapproval. "What have you done with him, thief!"
Ron's eyes bulged and dilated, reactions to such an encounter felt beyond anything his human self could comprehend. But then he felt something of that odd, same familiarity come over him again. Indignation took him, along with the distant and impossible idea that they'd done this before.
"Why are you having a go at me!" he shouted back. "I've not done anything with Corvus, he's my friend! And I am no thief!"
"You dare challenge me; you breach the walls of my Realms; you risk the lives of my familiars!" Death slammed the butt of her scythe down; it echoed with a thrum of thunder around them. "Nænig bearn mínre spræc wið me þys weg!"
"Ælc cild þu forlætan to tíd and belæfan to sweltan!" Ron shouted back. His voice echoed out, and as it did, he recognised the same echo of time, a voice of a thousand whispers on his own, ancient and powerful. "Woah…," he looked back into her face, she had recoiled somewhat, "what… what was that, how'd I do that, how did I speak like you?" His eyes were wide and searched her face for answers.
"You have always been different, Ronald, always the difficult one" she hissed, her tone softening slightly with an undercurrent of something akin to grief. "Wandering where no man should, disturbing the balance. Even the foretold speaks of such an anomaly, a troublemaker in the realms."
She stepped back, her gaze narrowing as she scrutinized him. "And now, you stand here, unaware of the chaos you bring, of the death's that are yet to come. You think your actions innocent, but they are not without consequence. This... this brotherhood you think of within Corvus, it ends here! His disappearance is on your head." There was a flash in her eyes, Ron's mind told him she'd burnt up some planet way off in the cosmos just to highlight the anger behind them. "He is not what you think he is, you have caused too much suffering," her eyes hardened, there was another crack of lightning off in the distance brought on by her words. "And the suffering yet to come. I forbid it!"
Ron shook his head, trying to piece together her words. "I don't understand," he repeated, frustration lacing his voice. "What foretold? What am I supposed to have done?" His own anger, as it often did, sparked, "he's, my friend!" there was a snarl in his voice, as it sounded a fire blazed in the heavens above, bright and foreboding but fleeting. It made him stagger back, Death too looked up at the sight of the sudden bright colourful sky above before it faded back to blackness. "I can't have caused that," his thoughts projecting out once again.
Death's expression shifted, a brief flicker of something vulnerable crossing her features before hardening once more. "The foretold speaks of one who walks between worlds, who brings both ruin and redemption. It speaks of you, Ronald. And it speaks of the pain and loss that follows in your wake." Now something in her eye caught at him, a lump formed as he saw it, something pulling at him from her, a single tear of sorrow that he knew she shed for him, fell. "If I assist you, balance falls, If I remain dutiful and leave you to the fates, your blood will mark the end of you." She shook her head now, backing away she released his hand. He hadn't realised she had been holding it in hers. With every step she grew back to her godly size. "Your death is a certainty I must allow to pass… Ic eom sorhful, mín bearn."
Ron staggered forwards after her, "nē!" As quick as he was, as slow as she moved, she was absorbed into the blackness around them, fading into shadow.
He stood feeling a deeply rooted anger that was almost not his own and a confusion that ran yet as deep but was at least understandable. The dawn of realisation that he had truly met Death began to hit at him, and yet once again his inner self seemed not to be surprised. He thought on this. "Were we not expecting her in some form or another. Did we not know she might come for us when we trespassed the Night Realm?"
"I didn't trespass", he argued back, to himself. "We just… found ourselves there, myself…I… Mord!" he shouted at the black heavens.
His hand brushed the back of his neck. "Your dagger", he said, "it was Corvus' words that first made us think we'd cross her path sooner rather then later… oh shut up", he grumbled. Tired of realising the only people arguing here was he and himself.
Somewhere there was a great sound of whinnying, deep and resonant. Through the darkness, through the veil of the universe it felt like, came the sound of rumbling hooves driven by a mass of power.
Into the chiaroscuro landscape came sight of Death's chariot, drawn by colossal black horses with eyes of burning embers. As they cantered to a halt, Ron's eyes were drawn back to her as she stood, reigns clutched in her hand. It completed her fearsome appearance. The horses snorted and pawed at the ground, their breath misting in the cold air like spectres. The chariot itself was an intricate construct of dark metal and bone, adorned with symbols and carvings that told the stories of countless souls she had guided to the beyond.
Ron stepped forwards, "I should be terrified but I'm not". Each of these creatures were gigantic, colossal in comparison to himself, but he was a child in a pet shop at the sight of them in the moment. Ron chanced a look at her again, her face was deeply set behind her hood, but he made out her eye's piercing into him.
"So why come back, unless I'm to be ferried to the next place", he asked with a mocking to his voice he was shocked to hear himself use in her presence. Only the same piercing gaze met his words, harder in response. "Fine!" he said annoyed, "don't answer".
He made up his mind that even without a word he was being told to join her. He walked around, passing the horses, he doubted he could reach their withers even if he jumped. One snorted loudly, a billow of fog erupted in warning. "Hey!" his hand raised, pointing, "pack it in Tempest".
He paused, again he staggered back and looked up at her then to the horses. "How do I know that…" he shouted to her in panic. "How do I know that!" he shouted up at her. "How do I know this is Tempest, and Eclipse and Phantom and…". Ron trailed off, the last horse continued to paw at the ground, its head nodding up and down at him. He slowly walked up to it, his hand absently reaching up to stroke its large head as it dipped to meet him. "Hello Chaos", he breathed with a smile.
The moment passed and he joined Death on her chariot. "I need answers and you're not willing to give me them, are you?" he joined her at her side, clutching at the handle at the front of the chariot.
"No".
"Then why return, if the balance needs protecting and you'd rather see my blood mark my death or whatever you were talking about".
"Why?" Death's head turned towards him, but still, she didn't meet his eye.
"Yes, why?"
Finally, she turned, lowering herself to meet him she lowered her hood. A cascade of black satin ate all light that touched her hair. It framed her beautiful yet haunting face. "Because I meddle, when I know I shouldn't, I know it will change nought".
"My death", Ron said flatly.
"Your death pains me child, but the deaths your life will cause pains me more".
"But I haven't done anything", in desperation he slammed his hand down, an echo of the din was heard some miles away, like the resonance of a great storm. "How is this possible?" he demanded, an arm pointing in the direction of the noise he caused. "And I'm not dead!"
"Your death is behind me; your death is in the now and in my future". She turned back to him now, bone white fingers with black steel nails took his face gently. "Time is not a construct of my reality, I live in the now, the when and the never. The times when no one thinks it could possibly be their time, I am there. The times you feel most alive, I was there when you were taking your last breath. Every soul, in every realm from every era, I am their reckoning. If your life were a single event for me, then it was but a droplet in the ocean. And your death is a matter of relativity".
Ron's eye's watered as he heard this, it felt like rejection beyond comprehension. He turned from her, but she stopped him. Pulling him to meet her gaze her face seemed as pained as his. "You wish for answers, I wish to wait to have this conversation at the time of your death… to that end, I believe it is time".
A terrible force pressed in on him as her voice shuddered into him. The only thing that stopped his mind from collapse was the hand she rested on his shoulder.
"Wand… wand!" Pansy scrambled around the snow on the ground, one hand spreading out in search while her other clutched at Millicent. Finding nothing, she brought it back to the girl, patting her down in desperation. "Where is it!" she cried. "Draco come back… someone please help."
Pansy's mind whirled in the moment, her thoughts went to Farah, the loss that came so close to them all. She could do this, she just needed the girl's wand. But she couldn't find it and the moment was passing, pushed on by the pressing fear that began to take her.
"What are the principles of Alchemy?" Ron's words came back to her, he'd been determined to calm her, to focus her. And right now, her mind was calling back to it.
"But I can't… I need a wand", tears were blurring her vision now and it made her eyes squeeze shut.
"What are the principles of Alchemy?"
"I can't!... I can't just make things happen like you. This isn't the fucking Night Realm!" she spat out feeling his presence rather than remembering his words. She threw her arm out, "I can't just wave my hand and shout 'Accio Wand' and then…."
She paused, opening her eyes, something slight had now hit her fingers. Looking down it was there, Millicent's wand, from wherever she'd dropped it, now being drawn to her own hand. It felt unfamiliar as she clutched it but so had her own after so long. Having no time to mull over the perplexing use of wandless magic, having never even mastered wordless magic, which was less complicated, it all became moot.
Pansy rallied herself, Ron now by her side, his powerful frame close to hers in her mind as she strained through her tears. Feeling his guiding hands on hers, she traced the wand tip across Millicent's throat, chanting aloud as she spoke within her mind.
"What… are the principles of Alchemy?"
"All is the Mind; the Universe is Mental… Mentalism."
"And then?"
"No light without darkness, no form without measure… Consequence."
"Keep going."
"As… as above, so below… Correspondence… Millicent… please… please stay with me!"
"Concentrate, Sea!"
"Space… Space from time, body from soul, sand from silver… Elementalism."
"What comes next?"
"It won't work… she's gone…"
"Pansy, you can do this!"
"Nothing rests, everything moves… Vibration."
"Focus, girl, you can do this."
"Change is… Change is… No!" Pansy dropped to the girl, clutching her face to her chest as she sobbed, "you've… you've gone!" Her voice barely reached a whisper now. The sound of her sobbing was lost in the air. Everything left her mind; Ron's comfort was nowhere to be felt, only the pressing weight that surrounded her.
Draco staggered into the hallway of the Manor, his panic flooding him as he screamed out in horror. Staring down at his hands his mind was filled with the sight of her blood, the knife still clutched in his hands.
"Draco! Draco darling what is it", Bellatrix was the first to arrive to him, followed by Lucius who sobered at the sight of him. As Narcissa made it to the scene she screamed, her hand over her mouth
"Son what's happened, are you harmed?", Lucius bent low to look into his eyes. He took Malfoy's wrist as he spotted the knife, Draco released it and it clang to the floor, drawing everyone's attention in mortified silence.
"Draco… where's Pansy?" Narcissa asked, her hands over her mouth as she feared for the worst.
"Not… not", Draco stammered.
"Not what love?" Bellatrix asked as she clung to his shoulder, "Draco, is Pansy dead?" There was a fear to her voice now.
Draco shut his eyes, shaking his head, "M… Milli… Millicent!" he stuttered.
They all looked up as footsteps sounded, Pansy staggered in, covered in more blood than Draco was. She stared down at her hands, looking up her eyes only saw Lucius and Narcissa first. "She's…", Pansy shook her head in shock, "she's dead!" she whimpered.
Pansy's gaze looked left, seeing Draco, she lunged at him, her hands beating on his chest. "How could you! How could you! Your best friend… if you gave me your wand she might have lived… Bastard… Bastard!"
Lucius grabbed Pansy round the waist, pulling her off him, not out of anger but shock. All the same Narcissa rushed to take her from his grasp and shepherd her away herself. Lucious only had the image of his son in his mind. Looking into his eyes he saw only pain and fear. But as Pansy was pulled away, he thought he saw something more. The evaporation of everything that wasn't replaced with a cold and sterile content within the eyes.
"What has happened to you?" Lucious gawped.
A strange resolve seemed to come over Draco as he straightened to look at him "An unfortunate accident father", the cold in Draco's voice halted everyone. They all chilled as he spoke. Lucius' eyes widened as he failed to recognise his son's voice in the words.
"Draco what have you done", Bellatrix stepped forwards, her eyes, like everyone's now, as wide as Lucius'. The boy weeping and broken felt better than this smug hardness that now seemed to overtake him.
"I'm sorry aunt Bella, father, I wish it hadn't happened, I loved her. But the truth is the Bulstrode's… I fear I may have accidentally discovered a plot against the Dark Lord".
"A… p… plot?" Lucius looked between the boy and Bellatrix, "Draco a girl is dead! And by your hand".
Draco cried out; it was a pitiful showing that sickened Pansy as she watched. No pain or grief, but a pantomime act that she doubted any of them believed. But as she turned and buried her face in Narcissa, they both stilled when he looked towards them between sobs. Those eyes, once bright and silver, now dark and stormy. And there, through the windows of his soul, he looked back at them with eyes not of his own.
A whistle pierced the heavens; it's power reverberating through the cosmos. In spirit it rang out like a horn, announcing an arrival that educed fear and hope all at once. Ron saw that the sound, in physicality, quite literally pierced the aether as Death whistled again. It shattered the space around them, before opening a rip in the fabric of that cosmos. A lash of reigns and her horses thundered on, pulling the chariot through the hole and into another reality.
"Where are we going?" Ron shouted over the rush of sound. His voice lowered quickly as he found, as he spoke, he controlled how much he heard in this place. He didn't understand it, but he had power here. He didn't have to scream at her to be heard, they felt one another's words.
Death continued to look forward, her hand clutching the reins, her stoicism unfaltering. "The duty, it is unyielding and ever present. I am bound by it to reach each soul, lest they…".
"…Fall to darkness", Ron finished, and Death finally looked to him, her head bowing in acknowledgement. "The darkness, it's real, isn't it? I mean Corvus said there are things, living in the darkness that prey on souls". From under her hood Ron saw a grimace on her face, "what? What is it that you don't like now!"
Death's head turned to him; eyebrows angled in attack. He wasn't sure where this braveness, this stupid braveness of his came from when regarding her. His act of swallowing telling him it was foolish. "Corvus talks too much".
Ron waited and when nothing further came rolled his eyes. "Woman of many words", he thought irritated, "…shit!" Again, death seemed to eye him, though something of her told him she was mildly amused. "Erm…sorry, It's habit I guess, the err… mind mouth thing. So are you going to tell me why your so against Corvus or is it Corvus and me you don't like. You know he's decent right, I know it, there's good in him".
"Is that what you think", Death turned to him as Chaos, Tempest, Eclipse and Phantom came to a sudden holt.
"Bloody hell!" Ron blurted as he hit the handrail at the front of the chariot. "A bit of warning". He stood, rubbing what felt like a bruised chest, as was the height of the thing when he hit it. "What do you mean is that what I think, Corvus? Yeah, that's what I think, and I travelled with him for… well I don't know but it was a long time, he's good!"
"Two souls".
"Hey?"
"The time you spent in the Night Realm, it was for the duration of which one would pay for two souls, the debt of two of your kin", Death's solemn and timeless voice said factually.
"Oh, I see, and does that have an equivalent in Celestial time?" Ron's interest peaking through.
"You left that plane for approximately four- and one-half Celestial hours" Death said.
Ron frowned, "Oh, is that all, we thought it was…"
"Approximately three hundred and fifty-two years, seven and one quarter of your Celestial hours and… fifty-five seconds… Is how long you remained in a Realm you had no right to be present in".
Now Ron blinked up at her. "And that equates to the consumed magic of, two souls? Just how long would you have to stay if you were from a big family… bloody hell, my sister, how long do you intend on having her".
"If the first of your next line's generation was female and bore my Dagger. Taking into account your nine souls plus the four of your father's line as your aunt was a Squib…". Death tilted her head back for barely a second until she quickly looked back down at him. "Two thousand, two hundred and seventy-five years… would you like the remaining hours and seconds?"
Ron's mouth had fallen open. "Two…thousand?"
"It's nine hours and thirty-two seconds".
Ron's mouth, hanging open again, snapped shut. "Was that a joke!" he demanded.
"I rarely jest, though perhaps I find mirth at the look on your face", Ron definitely heard something in her voice now. For all its ethereal incomprehensibleness' he swore he could hear amusement.
"I see where Corvus gets it from", he muttered.
She slammed her hand on the rail of the chariot. It made Ron jump, her horses whinnied in fright as thunder cracked around them. "Always back to Corvus!"
"You brought him up!" Ron shouted back; she had an uncanny way of getting his back up. It was not a dynamic he would ever have thought unimaginable.
"Because you place too much upon him, there is Darkness there you clearly do not see child. I thought you had grown more than this, how I was wrong", Death turned in dismissal of him.
"You mistake darkness for kindness, for sorrow. He's lonely". Ron banged his own hand on the chariot rail now. The echoing thunderclap not on the same spectrum of Deaths, though it paused him for a brief millisecond. "I would have thought someone who's also lost their… their partner, could understand the loneliness of a grieving soul. He's had no one since Rook died!"
Death pulled off her hood now as she turned to him. The muscles in his stomach flexed as a fear ran through him, it spoke to him in warning to flee. But he remained as she rounded on him, eternal anger etched on her face. "And did you know that he is the reason Rook, my perfect child of Arcane, is dead?"
The hardness he tried to fix in his eyes dissipated and something fell out of the pit in his stomach. "What?... What do you mean he's the reason… he wouldn't!"
"And you are the expert of course, your knowledge runs deeper than the millennia I have shared since I created the Arcane's of course…".
"…N…No", Ron stammered, "But I just… I just know…".
"I know, child, I know that I watched Rook become one of the most giving of Arcane's, all I could hope to see in a creation of my own making. Corvus, Corvus is the reason she is dead, and you do not see that the same darkness that captured her, blinds you now".
Ron shook his head, unable to speak or think. She was being honest, speaking a truth that somehow, he had to believe as he took her in, but he rejected it all the same.
Before he could speak, she picked up her reins and turned away. "The duty calls, enough of this…". She paused as she drew back her hand to spur on her stallions, turning slowly she bent down to him. Her face filling his vision and a voice that filled with that same energy that spoke of a time before all time. An anger from the depths of which even rage could not compete with. "And never… speak to me of Erabus like that… again!"
She waved her hand between them, in front of her face and her bone mask materialised before him, covering her features. Raising her hood she swung the reins, rocketing them on as the horses cried out. "It is time you saw the damage your adventure has caused!"
"I can't do this again", Molly's tears hadn't fallen, they were still as they welled in her eyes. She couldn't shed them right now, she had to remain strong, but still.
Arthur pressed his head against his wife's, his 'lovers' as he liked to think. It felt more personal and eternal somehow. "He'll be fine Molly, he's a strong lad, look at how amazing he's been doing".
"But we don't know that!" Her head snapped to meet his eyes ferociously. "Arthur, the kids said he just… began seizing and now he won't wake… gods!" she gasped.
His hands gripped her hips tightly, pressing her to him. It was admittedly an act he saved for shocking her into a certain mood when his desires for her became too much. Now however he wanted to shock her out of her head. They were hidden enough from where they stood in the dark corner of the hallway upstairs as the others fawned by a doorway down the corridor. "No, they didn't, they said he feinted, and he's been lay peacefully since then. Stop overworking yourself and over thinking, just accept that Ron is different". He breathed a small laugh and shook his head.
"What!" Molly said angry, his manipulating of her had been working but now. "How can you laugh right now".
He smiled, "Ron, hasn't he always just been the fiercest of us all", he laughed again. "Remember when he decked that bloke on holiday. The kids reminded me a couple of weeks ago… he's more than he's ever got credit for".
Molly hated that it made her laugh. "He shouldn't have done that, but I suppose it was hilarious looking back. He was always overprotective of Ginny; I loved that about them both when they were little". She allowed her head to press back on his. "I've had something that's been eating at me since you and Sirius carried him up here".
Arthur kissed the top of her head before pulling back and eyeing her. "What is it?"
"I worry, I know I worry too much. But part of me isn't worried for him. He looks as peaceful as he did when he was first placed in a coma, when he was…". She frowned, still unable to believe any of it. "Since he apparently travelled elsewhere. But then Pansy went looking for him in her dreams, memories? Oh, I don't know… but, in her sleep she went to him and Ron was close to death then, I mean we nearly lost him".
"What makes you think he's close to death now?" Arthur said, sadly feeling they'd gone round in a circle.
"Not Ron, Pansy!"
Arthur showed his surprise at hearing this, before trying to regain that firmness. "But Molly, Augustus Light's daughter… er… Harrier, she visited her remember, she's ok".
"She wasn't ok", Molly snapped, "that vile shit has put his hands on her. And how do you know if he hasn't gone further since the girl returned".
Arthur stilled looking round, shocked further as her tongue let slip a curse, something she only ever did in their bedroom. "Molly, keep your voice down, if this lot find out and tell Ron that's it, nothing will stop him".
"Is that so bad", she said uncharacteristically dark. "I wouldn't so quickly stop my boy from ripping that monster in two".
"I'm sorry", Arthur sighed, it paused her, and she tilted her head. "I shouldn't have gone off at you like that, that day she left. It wasn't your fault, just as It isn't her fault. Don't let my harshness push you into guilt now".
"I'm scared for her, I'm scared for them both", Molly admitted.
Knowing he had nothing more to say that could improve the situation, Arthur pulled her back in and kissed the top of her head.
Mad-Eye leaned on his staff, his face frowning as he hid his own worries. To his left the elder Weasleys and Sirius, to his back the younger rabble crammed into the doorframe. "Anything Jess love?" he growled.
Jess put down the instrument she'd been using, absently her hand brushed the hair from Ron's eyes. She shrugged looking to her uncle and the others. "Sleeping… I have no other explanation". Her hands now resting on her hips she looked down at him. "I'm not saying coma, it just doesn't fit. And from what you told me, if all that mad stuff is to be believed, well… it didn't put him into a coma did it!"
"It did though, didn't it?" Bill asked.
"No", Jess said firmly, "we put him in a coma. Poppy after the attack and us after his surgery. If his mind travelled then it could have looked like this, had we not put him under. He's been out for how long again?"
"Hour and a half", Charlie answered now.
"That's no time at all in sleeping really", she pointed out.
"True, but generally you wake after being shaken and slapped around", Charlie retorted.
"Easy dragon boy", she smirked, it made him smile and Bill rolled his eyes. "I'm not disagreeing, just making a point. You wouldn't wake if I slapped you around if you were in a deep enough sleep…"
"…Wanna try?" Charlie smiled at her.
"Fuck's sake!" Bill breathed as Mad-Eye coughed, it made Jess stifle a laugh.
"Dreamless sleep could put you under like this in a large enough dose, as could another handful of things really. He has also been a little shit with the concoction of Dreamless Sleep and Living Death has he not?"
"Yes, but he didn't take anything like that, we were all just sat talking and he slumped", Hermione wasn't visible, but her voice came from within the group crammed at the door.
"Well, good to know", Jess mused, "but the fact remains. All results point to the fact that he's sleeping. He's in good health, well, he's in better shape than he was in the hospital". She looked up to Mad-Eye, "not sure what you've been putting him through but physically he's… yeah he's alright". She blushed and threw the sheet over his bare chest. "That thing is insane", she pointed at his new arm, "but nothing of that seems to be affecting him so. For now, he's sleeping".
Draco stepped into his room, angered as he heard the click of the door, being forced to remain locked inside. Silently he pulled off his clothes piece by piece as he made for his bathroom in the dark.
Draco stood naked and motionless, the cold tiles of the bathroom floor biting into his bare feet. Blood, sticky and drying, clung to his skin, a stark reminder of the evening's horrors. His reflection in the mirror seemed distant, a ghostly figure draped in crimson. Silent tears streamed down Draco's face.
He turned the tap, letting the cold-water cascade over his hands, washing away the blood in rivulets that spiralled down the drain.
As he lifted his gaze to the mirror, the figure of his nightmares emerged from the shadows, towering and menacing. The Arcane's glassy black eyes glinted, and a low, chilling whisper filled the air. "Do you see now, Draco? ..."
The silent tears, streaming down Draco's face remained. He wasn't crying though; these where the last vestiges of his humanity mourning the loss silently. Only something buried deep within had feeling anymore, only a stray part that felt the sadness for his best friend. "I... I didn't mean to..." he whispered, his voice trembling.
The Arcane's presence grew darker, its form shifting ominously. "But?"
Draco's eyes, closed tightly, opened. They were dark, the once silver, a stormy grey now. "But I embrace it".
"She was nothing. Her life, in your hands. You felt it didn't you, all that anger, all that hate. You had power over her life. You felt it spill out, flow over your fingers, let it stain your clothes and taste it on your lips".
Draco's breath hitched as he watched his own eyes in the mirror, the silver, gone. The grey tainted with darkness. The creature's whispers swirled in his mind, drowning out any remnants of remorse. He turned his back to the mirror, facing the cascading water. The tears continued to fall, unseen, as he let the Arcane's words envelop him. His shoulders felt it's weight, like arms wrapping around him, holding him.
"I embrace you", he whispered in the dark.
"You can own her," the Arcane whispered. "Pansy is yours to command, to control. Your love will be your power, your anger, your weapon."
Draco clenched his fists, the water turning warm as he stepped into the shower. The blood washed away, but the stain on his soul deepened. He nodded slowly, accepting the darkness that consumed him. "I will," he muttered, a twisted resolve hardening his voice.
The Arcane's presence pulsed with satisfaction. "Good'zes, lets the darkness'zes guide's you". Draco's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he strained, cricking his neck. As though the voice was now coming from within him, he tensed, angry that his words were filled with the old tongue of its kin. Focusing on what it had learnt, Draco let out a steady breath as the creature slowed its thoughts, controlling its words, turning its own back on the language of the Arcane's. "You can be unstoppable. You can be like him, the one I am most eager to meet, this… Dark Lord… we could be better than him… we could be the master of Death."
Draco closed his eyes, letting the water cleanse his body. But within, his heart embraced the shadow, and his soul drowned in the dark abyss the Arcane had prepared for him.
The body of a girl, with eye's since closed by a grieving Pansy and tears that had frozen in the cold lay there unmoving and sad. Her pale skin now blue, Millicent was gone, her body there, left alone, but she would never again walk that Realm. In another place she had span around in wonder as everything felt not quite as she'd ever felt it before. She was surrounded by darkness. In a place of nothingness, she was confused, she wasn't of this land, this place, and yet she couldn't remember where she had come from. She only remembered a sadness, a need to protect someone very close to her.
In the distance she saw light, two lights, either side of her. Unknown to her she stood on the precipice of two worlds, slowly wondering closer the space around her grew as though breaching a threshold and being thrust onwards. Now the two worlds engulfed her vision, one to her left and the other her right. And here, in the middle, idly suspended in the cosmos she stood on the titanic halo of darkness between worlds. Looking out at them both, she now knew. One she had just departed at the end of her mortality, the other, the beyond.
Millicent turned, her head swivelling as a new feeling took her, fear. Not a normal fear but a primal one, one that called to her ancestors, when they roamed the earth ten thousand years ago and shared it with nightmares. She knew now she was in a place where nightmares lived, a place that birthed the primal scream of humanity. The darkness in this place, she knew, was living. It teamed with horrors, and she could hear them now, hear the snap of jaws and slash of claws. They were coming, they were hurtling along at great speed, desperate for the essence of her soul.
She couldn't make it out at first, it was all darkness to her eyes. But as they adjusted, she took in the light of worlds and made out the moving shapes as they drew nearer. She thought it a tide, a great wave of yet more darkness, but it was nothing so tame. Some great beastly forms, a million miles away and moving a million miles faster were charging towards her. She thought she had time to run and hide but where? She was barely aware of her own consciousness, like a feeling of being born again in this place she was taking her first steps. But now…
It hardly mattered, they were here, moving at colossal speeds. Though difficult, she made out the differing forms of the monsters now bearing down on her. The largest and most formidable pounding the ground as it sprinted. It smashed left and right, challenging the others for the right of first bite. Black on black, it reared up and bared down on her, its jaws open ready to slice her into pieces.
Light, brilliant and pure, pierced the onyx backdrop, a blue, white light exploded into the air. The monster's jaws bounced off this shield of light, forcing it back from her as it snarled in pain. The beast cried out, frustrated and dismayed, pounding its paws on the ground, circling back and forth waiting to get at its prize. Then she felt it, her hand reached for the back of her neck, it was emanating from herself, from the very place her seven-year-old self had received the traditions of Death's Dagger.
Something of hope flooded her in that moment, but it wouldn't last. Time and again a different creature tried its chances anew as each leaped, claws raised, jaws snapping. One after the last they continued to fall, howling in frustration. Millicent fell to her knee's, hand clutching at the back of her neck she prayed, willing the protection to last, hoping that Death would come to her.
"Death?" she said aloud, the strangeness of thinking thoughts aloud was lost on a girl who had not yet comprehended what thought or speech was. "Why does Death sound familiar? Why do I hope that she comes… Whoever this…Death is" something about comprehending things felt unnatural and new to her.
A long and piercing whistle rang out. It seemed to split the air with its otherworldly note that sliced like a blade. Long and carrying it seemed to herald the arrival of something important. A charging whinnying called out as four gargantuan black stallions raced through the night. The sound caught the attention of the creatures, and they roared up in anger. In the sky of nothingness, between the light of two worlds, Millicent watched on as a great chariot hurtled towards them pulled by the giant creatures. Their muscles flexing under gleaming cloaks of shimmering jet hair, steam spraying out their nostril's as they landed, cantering powerfully.
Millicent saw it in her mind's eye. The idea of Death, or the memory of what Death represented. A figure whose presence was a reminder of the inescapable fate that binds all living things, a guardian and guide through the final passage. Despite the fear she invoked, there was a strange comfort in her presence—a promise that she would lead all soul safely through the unknown astro planes of the afterlife.
A creature of shadow, some ten feet tall exited the chariot, its aura covered in a cloak of infinite night, sparkling with the stars of the cosmos. The figure lowered its hood, a beautiful Raven head snarling under the morbid beauty of a white bone mask. It drew a great black scythe, it's blade of glistening obsidian raised high. Her presence brought a raucous echo of angry snarls and roars from the beasts.
"Back to your depths feral hoard", its' voice echoed out like a thunderclap. She swung the great weapon through the air and Millicent watched as the creatures all whined in pain and fear, staggering to clamour back to the halls of nothingness. They scrambled and fought against one another to get away. Whatever their numbers were, some hundreds, they all fled from Millicent's field of view. All except a handful.
The largest, the one who had taken the right of first blood, or tried to, remained. It was flanked by few others; they pounded at the ground in defiance. "I am the end of everything", Death's voice crashed out in echo.
Ron stood watching from the height of the Chariot where his chest rose and fell in panting at the nightmare scene before him. Though no fear had taken him, only exhilaration and excitement somehow. As he heard Death's voice, he noted it change as some of the creatures seemed to defy her. Her ancient ethereal voice was enough to make most grown men piss themselves in fear, he knew this. But in the face of such defiance her voice echoed with the force of a primordial god, bathed in a crescendo of cracking thunder and snap of lightning.
Just as Ron had failed to see or feel the ridiculousness of his panting in a world or plane without air, he failed to feel the prickle of energy over the hairs of his neck. Something of this excited him beyond measure and he had to stop himself from jumping down and joining in.
"I will claim what life force clings to you!" Death's ire brought the loudest clap of thunder as her eye's flashed. Tendrils of lightning struck the ground around them as she slammed her scythe to the floor. It was enough, the actions, the threats, finally they turned and ran.
The figure, seeing Millicent turned to her. She could no sooner run or die of fright than she could have fought off the beasts herself. The great figure crouched down low, its voice rang out like a death bell, huge, terrible and yet angelic and comforting. "Millicent Bulstrode, my child".
"Who… "Millicent stammered in bewilderment, her mind said not to fear this person, but respect her, "oh… that was my name, wasn't it? How do you know me…". She paused, with a brave sigh she looked up into her face. "I'm dead, aren't I?"
"Yes, my child, you are, but much more than that… you bear my Dagger. So, you will come to me and fear for nought, for you have a debt that is to be paid, one that I must collect". She raised her arm and Millicent followed without question, stepping automatically onto the chariot. "This is where your next story begins dearest Millicent".
Death joined her and lifted the reigns, ordering her steeds to the air.
Ron's excitement vanished instantly, his eye's fell to the girl, then his mouth too fell in a stunned silence. She was Millicent, something hit at him within, a guttural punch that pointed out a very large and horrifying fact. A girl, however unliked or unknown to him, a girl from his school, his year, was dead. In many ways it shouldn't matter and yet, it did. Ron's mind flashed back to the image of a beautiful dark-skinned girl with green eyes, covered in blood and lay dying before him. Something of seeing Millicent here, now, was as painful as watching how close to Death Farah circled.
"Millicent?" he said, so gently as he was afraid to speak. She looked beautiful to his eye. Perhaps she had always been so, and he'd never noticed. Perhaps it was that he knew this was her pure spirit that he was viewing. She'd been solid to his eye moment's ago as she stepped onto the chariot, now she was glowing with energy.
"Oh, hello", her voice was lost yet pleasant, like a hopeful wistfulness. "I know you don't I… your Ron aren't you. Are you dead too? I'm sorry for you Ron, its…it's a shame, isn't it?"
"I…I don't…" Ron looked to Death; he was surprised to see her already looking at him. He thought on what made her stare so. "I don't know, I thought I was, but now I'm not sure".
"Oh", She smiled at him, it seemed weak and afraid at first, but within moments she seemed surer of herself and set him as brighter smile as her skin seemed to shine. "Then I'm glad you still live, I'd hate to know someone else I know died when I did". She paused, seeming to look through him. "P…Pansy?... Yes? Pansy, that's right isn't it, we both know Pansy, she's, our friend?"
"Pansy!" Ron was pulled eagerly too her, "yes…yes! That's right were both her friend, have you seen her?"
"No, that's not right!" She shook her head smiling, "I'm her friend, you… you are her…", she frowned in thought before smiling again. "You are hers! Good for you, she is wonderful. And yes, I have seen her". Her face darkened and she gave him a grave stare. "You have to reach her, if not for her then for the sake of all of us that the Foretold could save". She looked away now, looking forward they were approaching a dark horizon that glinted with a growing light like the dawn of a rising sun. "She needs you Ron".
"What do you mean, is she ok… Millicent!"
Millicent only continued to look forward to the horizon now as it drew ever nearer. She inhaled powerfully, eyes closed as her shimmering skin was bathed in light. "Just smell that air, isn't it everything. Draco, that water looks amazing, I told you the beach was worth it this time of the year. Race you to the water".
"M…Millicent?" Ron watched as Millicent smiled against the rising sun, her skin glowing ever brighter as they closed in on the magnificent glow of brilliant light. A hand covering his eyes with how bright it became. Ron realised he was witnessing her last now. He saw as her body evaporated into sunlight and star dust. Only a feint trace of her outline remained for a second before she was gone.
Death's whistle pierced his ears and just like the snap of her fingers they arrived elsewhere and alone, back to blackness. The horses slowed to a canter then a trot until the chariot gently swayed as they walked.
Ron swallowed; tears lined his face now as he looked up finding her already stood looking down at him solemnly. "You… you said… time I saw the damage I had caused". He swallowed again, the lump in his throat making it hard to breathe. "You didn't mean… you didn't mean her. You didn't mean that I caused Millicent's death?"
"Actions have consequence".
His eye's closed against the pain of hearing it all but confirmed. It didn't need explaining to him, just witnessing her go as he did, it felt shameful enough that he felt guilty either way. His tears flowed freely now, breath hitching in his chest. "And this… this Foretold, dare I even ask?"
Pansy, still covered in Millicent's blood shook deeply as she was guided into her room. Forceful hands pushed her through the tiny space and into the bathroom. The bath was already filled when they entered, Pansy's mind barely registering it as Rolo's work. Her dress was unzipped from the back and slid off her shoulders. Hands guided her undershirt over her head and she took the nonverbal que to step out of her underwear.
Hands held her arm and she stepped into the steaming water, the pain hardly noticeable. "Let's get you cleaned up Pansy", Narcissa's voice soft, finally registering within her head.
The room felt that bit more dimly lit, and she noticed the placement of smaller candles, casting long shadows on the walls, reflecting the turmoil inside her. Narcissa began using a soft cloth to gently wash Pansy's skin, her movements felt tender and deliberate. It began to feel too intimate, and the pain inside started to fall out as her tears fell.
Memories of Millicent's face, the horror of holding her as she died, the image of her mother's lifeless body. Narcissa's tenderness pulled her back to the memories of her mother gently washing her in those rare and sensitive moments.
The warmth of the water felt like the distant memory of what she'd just been soaked in. "Millicent's blood...", she gasped, "it's everywhere. I can't escape it."
Narcissa's hands steadily gripped Pansy's, when she wouldn't stop thrashing, quickly scrubbing at her arms she pulled her face to hers. "Enough!" Narcissa's voice was harsh but low. "Don't let this consume you Pansy, you have to be stronger than this". She pushed the girl's hand to her stomach where the act widened her eyes in understanding. It worked to steady her panic as she ran her hand through her hair. "Pansy, dear, you need to rest. I know it's not that simple… but. I've directed Rolo to use what he must to seal off Draco's door and Lucius to confiscate his wand".
"Where is Lucius, and Bellatrix?" Pansy's head filling with a horror that suddenly filled her with more of that dread, though now it was sickly and nauseating.
Narcissa only looked at her in silence. It was a knowing look that they shared now and the nausea that one felt, the other knew they too were feeling it now. "Out", her voice was horse and sad.
"They've gone to murder the remaining Bulstrode's… haven't they".
Narcissa's eyes closed, and her head bowed as she nodded. After a moment she looked up again, eye's watery, "to quell any threat of retribution, yes".
Pansy's body tensed, her fists clenching under the water. "And there's nothing we can do to stop them, is there?"
Narcissa shook her head, and her tears finally released. "No, there isn't. And I know Pansy, I do, they have a younger daughter too. But there is nothing either of us can do now, I tried but... I am no fighter, no true death eater. But we must focus on what we can do. We must stay strong, for ourselves and for those we care about". She said the last as her hand pressed Pansy's against her stomach.
Pansy closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to calm herself. Trying to think of Ron, the one she cared for most of all, but instead of finding peace, she felt an overwhelming sense of loss. There was now a void where Ron's presence used to be. Panic began to set in, her breaths growing rapid and shallow.
"Pansy what is it?"
"It's Ron", she whispered, still some words felt to unsafe to speak in this place. "I feel… I feel as I did when he was gone, in the coma. I've always managed to feel his presence ever since the night we woke together in the hospital wing. But now… now it's like he's gone. I can't feel him anymore".
"Pansy you can't know that", Narcissa tried to sooth.
"I mean it", she sat up eyeing the woman seriously. "He's… I don't mean, well I don't think I mean he's…". She couldn't bring herself to say it. "Not like Milli, but it's like he's really gone. It can't be but, it's like he's left this plane again. Like when I saw him in… in the Night Realm". She looked away embarrassed, there were some things she hadn't shared and realised how ridiculous she must sound.
Her chest tightened, and her vision blurred as a panic attack gripped her. She clutched at the edge of the bathtub, gasping for air, tears streaming down her face. Narcissa noticed and quickly moved to holding her gently.
Narcissa tightened her hands on her shoulders. "Breathe, Pansy. Focus on your breath. In and out. You can do this".
Pansy closed her eyes. As comforting as Narcissa was, she was lost to her now. Now in this moment she was alone in the warm water that pressed against her. She began focusing on the sound of her breaths, willing them to slow down. She forced herself to count each inhale and exhale, grounding herself in the moment. Gradually, her breaths became steadier, and the tightness in her chest begun to ease.
"Ron needs me, as much as I need him. Our baby needs me… ". She opened her eyes and looked at the woman turned mother figure. "I have to be strong, for both of them now. I'm done letting fear paralyze me".
Narcissa helped Pansy out of the bath and wrapped her in a soft towel. She looked down and saw an ember within amber now. Pulling her into her, Narcissa wanted to tell her everything would be ok, that they would find a way to come through alive. But she couldn't bring herself to speak so freely where she had such doubts.
In truth Narcissa now found herself questioning just how much she had left anymore. To continue standing beside a man she felt little for or supporting a boy who didn't resemble the son she longed to return to her. Tonight seemed to be the hammer blow that sealed the lid on their lives. She was quickly approaching the glimpse of a life she thought she saw over ten years ago when the Dark Lord was so close to clutching victory. A life darker than what she was raised to live, a subservience that went beyond simply honouring a strongly willed husband. One where breathing the wrong way meant the difference between life and death.
It was a thought that brought her back to Pansy, connecting them. It showed Narcissa just what torment her family had placed on her since she arrived. She couldn't think on the part she'd played in it now though, the idea bit too deeply.
Guiding her back to the bedroom, where Pansy sat on the edge of her bed, her resolve hardening. Narcissa pulled her from her thoughts with the sad desperation lacing her words. "I want your uncle, Pansy. I wish he were here to take us both away from here. I understand the pain of everything you've had to endure and I'm sorry".
Pansy shook her head, quieting her as she grabbed her hands. "Don't, it's done, and I don't blame you for anything. This wasn't you're doing. But… look at me. I'm here because I let fear take me, so much that I threw away everything I had that was good for me. And all I've let myself do since I realised, I was…". She froze, her hand on her stomach, she ignored her fear of the words now and spoke with confidence. "Since I realised, I was pregnant I've only thought about death. My death, my child's death. I should be focusing on life".
Something in the way she emphasised the word struck at Narcissa and focused her attention now.
"If I keep thinking about this like were fucked, then all I can expect is another person for you to mourn. But if I start thinking, start planning for this", as it always did now her hand went to her belly again. "Start wanting to protect my baby and drag her into this world kicking, screaming and alive. Then I'm going to get out of here and back to him. And you're coming with me". Before Narcissa could argue she folded into the taller woman and felt her arms around her, her head resting on hers.
Much later than this Pansy was alone, lay tired but awake. She'd taken to humming sweet notes to the little patch of yet still flat stomach she so tenderly stroked. Tones she knew she remembered from her own infancy, hummed in love from a young Parisa.
Sitting she turned to her drawer revealing a small box. Inside, she took out a piece of parchment and a quill. Deciding that tonight she was to be reckless yet brave, she started to write a desperate message to Ron, detailing her fears and the overwhelming sense of defiance she had for them now. It begged for his forgiveness for not being brave enough to remain with him. She wrote of her desperation to return to him and pointed out the fact that she feared he had left this plane, as she felt it so. Then she declared her belief in him, that wherever he was she expected him to return to her and take her away. She signed it with her love, kissing the parchment, she rolled it tight.
Taking to her feet she paused, her hand placed in its maternal spot. Speaking softly, she smiled. "I promise you, my little one, I won't let anyone harm you. I'll fight with everything I have to protect you and bring your father back".
Pansy whispered, "Rolo, come here please".
"Miss", he smiled sadly. "Rolo was very worried".
She didn't wait for permission, taking to her knee's she hugged the little elf. "I'm ok Rolo, I promise. Rolo, I need you to take this and deliver it, but I don't know if a house owl will manage. I'm not even sure it will be possible. But you must make sure it is seen by no one".
"Yes, Miss Pansy. Rolo will take care of it. Rolo will find a way".
Rolo took the letter and disappeared. Pansy watched the spot where he stood, tears streaming defiantly as they threatened, but her will felt stronger now as she forced them back. She returned to her bed, and slid her tired body inside. She preyed Narcissa would keep her locked inside tomorrow, her tiny room felt like her only safe haven in this place of torment. She tried to force the tears back once more.
Her eye's widened with shock as a hand graced her cheek and whispered assuredly. "Dearest Pansy, I thought you were my clever girl". Parisa's voice soothed. "You are so strong standing up against insurmountable fear, it makes me proud. But some tears we should never hold back".
"M… mother", She whispered.
"Shh…" her image of her mother whispered. "Let them fall Pansy my love, some tears are always meant to fall, it is our way of shedding such sadness".
"Mother… I miss you so!" Pansy whimpered.
Pansy felt the image within her mind, her mother, leaning over her. Her hand stroking her head, it trailed to her stomach where she stroked her softly. "I miss you too my light. And now you bare my grandchild. How you've grown in the face of such hardship. You will make a wonderful mother".
"I need him mother", Pansy whimpered. Tears flowing freely now. The more they did, the lighter she felt, the more she fell to tiredness as sleep came for her. "I need him to come for me. Please, let this work. Let him feel us. Let him know that I need him, that we need him". Her eyes were closed now, feeling the soft hand of her mother caressing her as she all but succumbed to a place of sleep. "I will fight for you, for both of you. I won't let fear win", she muttered as Parisa kissed her cheek.
She sealed her closed eyes now, not to be open for hours as she left. Her mind, waking in that Realm of Sleep focusing all her energy and willpower on finding Ron. The room had faded now. Into darkness she travelled as she slipped into a deep, trance-like state, consumed by her determination to save her lover and protect their unborn child.
"What's up with it, I thought you liked it when you picked it up. I can assure you the fabrics from one of my finest stocks".
"No Marty", Mad-Eye grumbled in his, friendly tone. The fact that his deadly tone and friendly one was all but the same seemed lost on him. "The lad just wants some adjustments that's all".
"Adjustments, alterations, absolutely! If I can accommodate it, I'll get it done for you".
Ron stepped forward, his face was hard and resolute. "I need this sewing into the fabric. I don't care how, I don't answer why, I just want it sewing in, permanently".
Marty, the cloak fitter of, 'Marty's Quality Cloaks – Located Twenty-Five past Nine'. One of the best cloak makers within the Umbra Court, according to Mad-Eye, took the purple-blue shard of crystal and turned it over in his hand. "Strange little thing isn't it". He wasn't taken aback by the young lad's request. You didn't work the Court and not have more than half your customer base commission you on a 'no questions basis', without being accustomed to it.
"Just something the lad is insistent on mate, couldn't hurt I suppose", Mad-Eye suggested.
"Not at all, though feels more than a matter of a simple memento thing, I guess. Not a bad premise for a new promotional, inter sewn articles. Clocks with interwoven magic, could be big business".
Ron didn't answer and walked off as he waited, Mad-Eye shook his head and went after him, things seemed different with the boy since a few days ago.
Some time later they were moving on. They had a few errands to run then would be dropping in on Julious for a brief check-up. Ron had his newly adjusted cloak pressed around him, please with the result Ron was content while Mad-Eye was pissy with yet more worry.
"That worked out well enough", Mad-Eye broke the frostiness in the air, despite the bustle of the market, it was palatable between them.
"MmmHmm", Ron hummed in response.
"Did you know it would work, or just a hunch?" Mad-Eye tried again. Ron pulled a face and shrugged his shoulders in silence. Mad-Eye's short temper got the better of him and he growled, pulling the boy to a halt to face him. "Damn it Ron… I'm not your family boy… I won't fawn over you or pester but damn it all, it's me for Merlin's sake. When haven't you just shot straight from the hip with me as usual!"
Ron let out a low snarl as his mentor grabbed him, automatically pulling a defensive posture. As he did the adrenaline subsided and his anger cooled quickly. It hadn't registered within him, how long they'd been walking. But the market was busy today and they'd navigated the outskirts best they could to make time. He realised they were crossing the entrance steps as Mad-Eye halted him. Ron looked to his right now, the image of a giant statue looking down on him. His face hardened at the sight of her, something of loathing felt within now.
Mad-Eye saw the look and followed his gaze to the statue of Death, he paused without thought when an idea came to him. "Her?" Ron looked back at him and sighed, the anger melting away. "You did travel, but… surely not, you cant have met… her!"
Ron had spoke to no one after waking days ago. He'd felt bad for worrying anyone, but he'd had no control. Something inside him though held onto what he'd seen with anger. He only felt up to telling Harry and Hermione what he'd seen. They were horrified and saddened as he was. That extended to Tracey and Ginny after Hermione pointed out that the Slytherin was Millicent's dorm mate. Tracey held it together well, until her escort that came to take both her and Ginny's to Tracey's home arrived and she struggled to keep her emotions in check.
No one else was happy with Ron, not believing his deflective explanation. But he wasn't up to explaining the hollow anger that he had within, festering. And seeing the statue of Death now made him bitter and resentful. Like her warning of Corvus, he had somehow believed her when she told him, though part of him couldn't accept it. He believed her when she said he caused Millicent's death, though he knew he'd done nothing that could explain it, like Corvus he couldn't accept.
"We met, and we argued", Ron said as he finally pulled his eyes from her.
"You… you argued with Death?" Mad-Eye's eye span from him to the statue and back as his mouth fell open. "You know lad talk like that I, I only see from crazies, but with everything that's happened. Everything you told Albus since this all started… I don't want to but I have to believe you".
"A girl I know… she's dead, I met her as Death took her to the next plane". Mad-Eye could only gawp in listening. "We argued because she blames me for something I don't understand. Something about Corvus and me, our time in the Night Realm causing a knock-on effect and now…".
"…Now you're blaming yourself for a girl's death…", Mad-Eye finished in understanding. "What a load of Troll-shit", he snapped. "We only started Apparation lessons this week, so I know you haven't left the base. So, you tell me how this girls death falls at your feet".
Ron frowned, the old mans words hit home, somehow lifting him when he didn't expect. "Doesn't help this, this guilt building up though".
"No, I imagine not. I imagine going through Christmas, being no closer to getting your lass back, its all hitting you hard now. But this is where we push through now, were close Ron, so much closer than yesterday and the day before". Ron smiled in spite of himself as Mad-Eye slapped a hand down on his shoulder. "Now, tell me more about meeting this tough old bird", he jabbed a thumb towards the statue as they made to walk on. It made Ron snort in laughter, until neither of them was smiling anymore.
Moving off through the crowd they paused as it parted some feet in front of them, caused by the mass of figures stood routed. Strangers to Ron's eye's he was still aware enough to know what he was looking at, who he was looking at. Ron's hand went to his wand in an instance of flesh memories caused by repetition training.
Mad-Eye only had enough wherewithal to be proud of that speed for an instance as his main focus was on the two barn doors stood opposite him. "Easy lad, not here" he said low, halting Ron's hand. Straightening he stepped forward, matched by Ron and mirrored by the two men until all four stood opposite each other.
"Lestrange. Still slithering around, I see. You're not where you ought to be", Mad-Eye's magical eye swivelled from Rodolphus and Rabastan.
The air crackled with tension, but the enchantment of Mors Pax held, forcing them all to stave off any want of violence.
Rodolphus sneered, but grudging respect showed in his face as he bowed his head to the man. "Moody. Always a pleasure to see your ugly mug. My brother and I figured we'd done our time, felt like a change. So who's the new recruit?"
Ron stepped forward, his gaze unwavering and something pressing into his side like the blade of a knife. Mors Manus glinted as he flexed, revealing it from under his cloak. "Ron Weasley". His voice was dark and face hard, something of Rodolphus' voice was striking a nerve, a spark of recognition that bit at him.
Both the brothers' heads tilted as they saw his arm, hard to miss as it jettisoned a blast of steam as it flexed. Though looking back at the boy Rodolphus eyes narrowed. "Nice arm".
"Yeah, pleased with it", Ron sneered back, "hoping it'll be good for killing Death Eaters!".
Rabastan smiled in spite of the situation and Rodolphus followed with a chuckle. "You're a hard one to track down, Ron Weasley". He allowed a second while the boy shared a confused look with Mad-Eye. "I hear you're a man with an invitation in his pocket."
Ron's eyes glinted with determination. "Maybe I am. Maybe I'll be seeing you around".
Rodolphus's grin was predatory. "Maybe you shouldn't be too hasty… maybe you and I have business".
Mad-Eye and Rodolphus exchanged a look and finally the senior spoke up from where he'd remained silent, assessing. "I know you're smart enough not to forget Mors Pax, so… what are you after, Lestrange?"
"I'm not here for trouble, Old Lion, I'm here to get a look at this boy, in the eye." He turned back to Ron. "You seem very close to Pansy Parkinson."
Fire instantly ignited in Ron's veins, Mors Manus thinking for itself or Ron's blood ablaze, now activating it, flashing all the quicker as his muscles tensed, more steam venting from his tricep in warning. "Fuck's it to you!"
"Easy boy," Mad-Eye warned.
"Listen to the old guard youngling, you don't want to cross wands with me," Rodolphus warned, to his right Rabastan tensed.
"Actually, I'm more worried for you with this one, Lestrange," Mad-Eye warned, not too convinced that he was truly joking.
"Don't skirt around the question, Death Eater," Ron's gaze never left Rodolphus'. "What do you care for Pansy!"
Rodolphus' eyes narrowed, he took one final step closer, as close as he'd dare for fear of the Umbra Court's formidable wards. He sized the boy up, a true bruiser, the younger was taller and as broad, faster too he'd wager even with the monstrosity on his arm. The sneer on his lips curled as the aura around the boy's blue eye burned a hole through him. Nodding he smiled. "Because, bruiser, a father should always size up the boy bedding his daughter".
A/N
So broken promises firstly, I said I'd have this complete soon with the first chapter of the next instalment. To that, there is no next Chapter of the next instalment today. I can only hope this being the longest chapter goes a little way to make up for it.
Ascension of Blood - Blood and Bone Saga book 4 is on it's way. I start it asap and will make up for this single drop with a decent double drop when I post that. One more post on this story will appear, announcing the next book's posting.
This has been a very fun and trying journey writing this. It's my first time taking characters to somewhere dark where the down's outmatch the ups and the downs get truly harrowing. This story isn't a fairy tale and I won't write it with only good times an highs, but I'm not about needless torture either. This story was very grounded in growth and the two ways that manifest played very well with each other. Pansy had to address letting her fears rule her life and decision and Ron had to grow past the decimation of his body. Pacing was very much not what I planned in this book. I mean I think by chapter 4 Ron isn't even out of his coma (Then I go and put the poor bugger back in one lol) But there was a lot to get through in this story and I'm happy at least that my idea's read as well on the page as they did in my head.
The explosive end to this story never happened, that was a pacing and size issue. The finale point for Defiant Blood was huge and by the time it got near I realised I was so over my word count i'd planned on. So I'd be adding a good 30-40k on top of that by adding the finale here and that's a bit much. So as I mentioned in the last chapter, I had to re think this end. One way was going back in and getting quite deep into some scenes to make them more impactful and I think it makes this last chapter all the more sad. I like that as Torn Apart was intriguing and exciting and then this is the more sombre end as we go into the final leg.
Other than my personal life being too busy and hectic this past fortnight to get this complet. The main reason was that this was a true b!tch to write. I've never had a chapter that had me writing in such a weird way. My end was the first I wrote, then continue the beginning then the second scene, then fifth, then third. It was just all over the place just because the vision I had for it pulled one way then the other then all the dots needed connecting.
Lastly, I just want to say this has got a lot more traction and whoever you are that's following this, I appreciate you all. Thank you for following this journey and I will hopefully get back into my stride, so's not to draw it out between posts and make it less immersive as you wait. I hope this has been a worthy read and follow up to the story so far. And if you follow to the end, I already have a little something in mind for what comes next as a linked little something that I hope will be fun.
Love, Light and Eternal Gratitude
Moony I'm deleting my app and reuploading as chat is nakard lol miss you, lots of love.