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Irreversible Destiny	By : SheWolfe7 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 56804 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
Disclaimer:
Refer to chapters 1-13.

Irreversible Destiny

By: SheWolfe7

A/N:
A few quick notes, first I changed the
date of the Order Meeting last chapter to Monday instead of Tuesday. Second, I
mentioned earlier that the Potters were a cousin branch of the Gryffindor line,
well I screwed up. They are a cousin line to Godric�s
Heir, as they are descended from Godric�s younger
brother Royce. However Godric�s line died with his
great-granddaughter so the Gryffindor lands, titles, etc went to the next closest
kin which would have been the Potters. I�ll get around to posting the whole
tangled mess of bloodlines on my Group sooner or later.

Also,
I posted a picture of what the Isle of Lore looks like on the Group if you are
curious. Oh and there�s quite a bit of Latin proverbs here, I couldn�t resist
using them with my Arcanum characters. Got the Greek names
from Theoi dot com.

Thank
you to my Betas, Robyn and Allex! Partly Betaed again but that�s because I decided to release this
early. Also thanks to Rei, I missed those errors you
pointed out. As for Sverre, you�ll understand in the following chapters.

Parseltongue,
foreign words, letters/articles etc.

Telepathy

Character�s thoughts

Emphasized
words, headings,

Chapter XVI

Tarnished Glory

Let no one think of me that I am humble or weak or
passive; let them understand I am of a different kind: dangerous to my enemies,
loyal to my friends. To such a life glory belongs.

-Euripedes, Medea

The Entrance Doors

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,
Scotland, UK

Tuesday September 2^nd 1997

10:00 AM

The
Hogwarts Professors, four squads of Aurors, one squad of Unspeakables and a
rather frazzled looking Cornelius Fudge and Madame Bones, all stood waiting on
the front steps of Hogwarts
Castle. To the surprise
of the British Ministry of Magic and even Headmaster Dumbledore at three a.m.
on Thursday the 28^th of August, Headmaster Celestin Randolph had Flooed to the Department of Magical Transportation to apply
for temporary underage Apparition licenses for his students. All
162 of them to be precise. What was surprising about this one might ask?

Never
in the history of the Arcanum Institute of Magic (which had opened its doors
some twenty years prior to the opening of Hogwarts) had the school ever closed for a temporary holiday and
never had its students been seen off the grounds while still in their studies. Triwizard Tournament invitations had always been politely
declined, which was probably just as well, considering that their students were
widely believed to be the best trained in the world. Had there been a way for
Lucius Malfoy to contact the Arcanum Headmaster and attempt to bribe the school
into accepting his son, Lucius would have jumped at the opportunity but alas,
Arcanum only took the best, the most powerful and the most knowledgeable. They
had such rigid standards that it was rumored the school had never had more than
two hundred students per year.

So
it was with a mixture of curiosity, exhaustion and alertness that the adults
waited for the arrival of their guests. Originally Headmaster Randolph had
every intention of booking rooms at the colossal Horntail Inn, located in the
heart of Leisure Alley but Dumbledore had quickly offered the use of the East
Wing of the castle to house the students and teachers from Arcanum. After
brooding in silence for several minutes, Headmaster Randolph had agreed and now
they had only to wait for the arrival of their guests.

A
barrage of staccato cracks alerted
the watchers, who turned their attention to the arriving students and teachers.
They arrived in what appeared to be groups of twenty or twenty five, one group
right after the next. Everyone who arrived was clad in dark silver robes. The
sleeves of every robe had intricate silver gates embroidered at the top of the
arm and the school�s name written in calligraphy all the way down to the cuff.
Across the front of each robe, written in large but readable calligraphy, was
the motto of the school: Damnant quod non intellegunt (They condemn what they do not understand).
Headmaster Randolph was the last to arrive and when he did he turned to face
his students, allowing those standing on the steps behind him to read the motto
written on the back of his robes, Quod nocet, saepe docet
(That which harms, often teaches).

�Excellent
coordination, everyone has arrived unharmed an in the proper positions, I am
pleased with your efforts.� Headmaster Randolph
complimented with a nod and a smile of approval before turning around to greet
his host. �Headmaster Dumbledore, I thank you again for your kind invitation to
house my students and staff for the next week. I assure you that my students
will be on their best behavior.�

Eyes
twinkling, Dumbledore smiled. �Headmaster Randolph,
we are most pleased to have you here with us. Please allow me to introduce my
staff��

Once
the introductions were complete, Headmaster Randolph glanced over his shoulder.
�Form ranks, Prefects to the front!�

Smoothly
the students re-arranged themselves forming columns of five, four deep with one
or two students standing in front of each group. The teachers had moved to the
sides, watching their students. The Hogwarts staff watched with some interest,
waiting to offer direction to the students and teachers.

Dumbledore
quickly schooled his surprise. �Professor Sprout will take the First years,
Professor Flitwick the Second, Professor Sinistra the Third, Professor Vector the Fourth, Madam
Hooch the Fifth, Professor McGonagall the Six and Professor Snape the Seventh
year students. The remaining Professors and I shall show the Arcanum Professors
to their rooms.�

As Sprout and Flitwick led the First
and Second years away, Dumbledore noticed something of interest.

�Headmaster Randolph? Do your students each have different mottos based on
year?� Dumbledore asked curiously.

Headmaster
Randolph
smiled. �Indeed they do. We believe in assigning each year a phrase to live by,
so to speak. Originally this tradition began in the late thirteenth century but
at the time there was only one phrase for the students, in the seventeenth
century, the Headmasters decided to choose a phrase for each year. During my
schooling and Professorship, the phrases have rarely changed and now, I prefer
to leave it as it is.�

Dumbledore
watched as the students walked by, the phrases started out innocuously enough
but towards the end they became very worldly. He would have to keep a close eye
on these guests of his�they would no doubt be very formidable allies or foes.

Nosce te ipsum. (Know Thyself) 1^st
years

Fabricando fit faber. (Practice
makes perfect) 2^nd Years

Nemo
me impune lacessit. (No one attacks me with impunity) 3^rd
years

Fide, sed qui, vide. (Trust but
take care whom) 4^th years

Praemonitus,
praemunuitus. (Forewarned is forearmed) 5^th Years

Vincit
qui patitur. (He who perseveres, conquers) 6^th Years

Silentenim leges inter arma. (Laws are silent in times of war) 7^th
Years

The Common Room

The Elite Wing, Riddle
Mansion, Little Hangleton
UK

Tuesday the 2^nd of September
1997

9:50 PM

The
Common Room was filled with noise and laughter as the Elite mingled and played
games. A large group of Slytherin boys were talking about Quidditch in the far
right corner of the room, opposite them was a group of boys from other Houses,
playing Exploding Snap. The girls were reading the latest magazines, talking
about fashion or the latest rumors about Harry Potter and Cyriacus Snape.
Though it had barely been a week, the media was agog by the different
�truthful� stories about one or the other. Cyriacus was, understandably, not amused
by all the speculation.

As
if the discussion had conjured the young Necromancer, Cyriacus stepped out of
the shadows next to the fireplace. He looked a bit better, though he was slowly
regaining his strength. Dressed as he was in tight fitting leather trousers and
a mesh shirt, his sudden weight loss would no doubt be thought of as having
been a result of loosing his Blood brother. Staggering slightly Cyriacus walked
over to an armchair and sat down, stretching his legs out in front of him and
running a hand through his long hair. Since he was in mourning, he had taken a
potion to grow out his hair to a respectable length.

�You�re
back early.� Pansy commented, looking him over.

�I�m
tired. There�s only so much carousing a person can do before they get very sick
of it.� Cyriacus answered as he pushed a neon green gem on his bracelet and let
the Sobriety Potion do its magic.

Marcus
Flint laughed. �Are you sure that�s really the answer? Based on what the International Zephyr has to say, you�ve
been shagging anyone who looks passable, man or woman.�

�Don�t remind me! Everyone wants a bloody
piece of me these days and unfortunately, I have to make at least two or three of them believe that I�ve shagged them to the moon.� Cyriacus made a face,
he hated the fact that everyone lusted after him and were so eager to paw him!
It reminded him of the way the Incubi had behaved towards him until after he�d
made the agreement with the Demon King and Queen.

�You
don�t really shag them?� Theo asked amused.

�Are
you insane? Would I really shag all those people? I don�t know and wouldn�t want to know where most of them have
been before me. I�ve only shagged that red head Melissa Bancroft, everyone else
just got a lovely bunch of bites and scratches along with me tampering with
their memory.� Cyriacus said with some disgust as he hadn�t even wanted to do
that much. However as he hadn�t had sex with a woman before it had been
imperative that he try it at least once, if only so he�d be able to fabricate
the necessary memories later on. It was very unfortunate that good Memory
Fabrication/Implantation required more than just the memories or fantasies of
the victim; it was so tedious to trim, distort and mold snippets of actual
memory to form a coherent artificial memory.

Morag
giggled. �Well you are a quarter Incubus, I�m sure if you felt like it you
could shag all those people.�

�Please do give me some credit; I�m not as
easy a lay as real Incubus or Succubus,� said Cyriacus as he crossed his arms
over his chest and snorted.

Before
anyone could say something else, the door at the far end of the room opened and
a large black and silver ocelot strode into the room. Once the door shut behind
it, the ocelot grew larger until it was a black leopard and then changed into
the Wraith Nusayr as he unclasped a rune covered black and silver cloak.

�My
Lord,� Nusayr greeted with a respectful nod.

Cyriacus
nodded in return. �Nusayr, I see you were quick to arrive.�

�You
know very well that what is at stake if you come to harm,� Nusayr retorted.

�Actually
I don�t,� Cyriacus said amused. �I haven�t the energy to attempt another Wraith
Summoning to find out what this Asadyl character has to say. Next month will be
soon enough I imagine, if you�ve all managed to bide your time for the last
several thousand years, he can wait another month for me to regain my energy.�

Nusayr
shrugged. �Asadyl does not like being kept waiting but I imagine that for you,
he will not mind the wait.�

�Have
I any messages?� Cyriacus asked as he stretched.

�None
that I know of,� Nusayr answered taking a seat next to Cyriacus.

�One
of your house elves brought you a trunk of clothes from Eagle�s Spire.� Lucinda
Moon answered.

Cyriacus
closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. �Ah, that would be my trunk of formal
dress clothes and robes no doubt.�

Altair
looked mildly concerned. �Are you feeling alright?�

�Don�t
mother me,� Cyriacus grumbled, opening one eye and glaring. �I�m getting more
than enough attention from everyone else in this blasted mansion. First it�s
the house elves, who try to get me to eat enough to feed a horse at each meal
and drawing my baths and laying out my clothes as if I was a toddler. Then
there�s my father who�s always trying to slip Revival or Sleeping Potions in my
drinks and members of the Inner Circle
making sure I�m sitting down and comfortable. I swear some of the First Tier
Death Eaters follow me in the halls just to make sure that I get to wherever
I�m going, if I have to walk there anyways. Voldemort is constantly checking up
on me and asking if I need anything and if I do, not to hesitate and he will
make sure I get whatever I desire as quickly as humanly and magically possible.
Then we have this overprotective hen,� Cyriacus gestured to Nusayr, who looked
indignant at the remark. �He sleeps at the foot of my bed in his feline form
and I swear, stares at me until I fall asleep and when I begin to wake up the
next morning I get a Revival Potion shoved down my throat.�

Valerius
crossed his arms and shook his head. �You still look terrible and you�re out
most nights convincing the rest of the world that you�re debauching yourself to
deal with your Blood brother�s death. We can�t help but be worried.�

�Worry
all you like, just don�t mother me.� Cyriacus growled as he got to his feet
rather unsteadily. �I�m going to have a bath. Don�t wait for me before heading
down to the meeting tonight; I�m going to Shadow Stalk.�

Draco
glanced at him. �Okay, we�ll see you later then.�

Cyriacus
nodded to everyone and slowly trudged to his bedroom, Nusayr following him,
ready to catch him if need be.

It
was 10:35 and everyone was in the Strategy Room waiting for Cyriacus who had
yet to arrive. Normally, Cyriacus was the first to arrive to the meetings but
as he was still recovering, he was not quite back to his normal routine. He
would have returned to his normal habits but between Constance and his father,
Cyriacus had been ordered rather sharply to relax and recover his strength.
Voldemort had made it plain to those within his Inner
Circle and the First Tier Death Eaters that Cyriacus was to be
watched at all times to ensure he was relaxing so he could recover as quickly
as possible.

Just
as it was approaching 10:40, Cyriacus finally stepped out of the shadows
perpendicular to the table. Nusayr walked with him, one arm wrapped around a
grimacing Cyriacus�s waist as the younger man walked very slowly and rather
painfully to the plush divan. With a wince, the younger man sat down and made himself comfortable as Nusayr took out a Potion vial from
the belt around his waist. Wincing, Cyriacus accepted the vial and drank the
contents as Nusayr took a seat next to his feet and ignoring everyone else,
began to massage Cyriacus�s legs.

The
others stared in some surprise at the odd sight and Voldemort had to bite his
lip to keep from saying anything about the handsome Wraith touching his lover.

�Are
you not feeling well?� Constance asked worried, half rising from her chair at
the table.

Cyriacus
waved her to sit back down. �I�ll be fine as soon as the Potion spreads through
my bloodstream. There�s nothing you can do for me yet anyways.�

�What
is wrong?� Severus demanded, ready to begin brewing anything to help his son
recover sooner.

�My
body does not have the sufficient amount of energy necessary to instigate the
Transformation and is not reacting well. I�m not sure the Cruciatus curse hurts
nearly as much as needing to Transform but not having
enough energy to. That was the reason for my tardiness.� Cyriacus explained
sitting forward so Nusayr could massage his back muscles.

Cyriacus
raised an eyebrow. �It takes considerable energy to return from the clutches of
Death and back to the Realm of the Living. I had barely two days to recover
before I had to use my link to the deceased to draw them back to the Realm of
the Living as well. If it had not become unnecessary for the Golem to �exist�,
I wouldn�t have even managed that as sustaining the Golem required at least an
eighth of my energy. Sunday evening�s ritual to restore the deceased was merely
adding to the strain on my already overstrained body. Even a hybrid as myself,
could not recover from such stress.�

�A hybrid?
What are you talking about?� Voldemort questioned curiously.

�Within
the embrace of Death, all the secrets of the Realm of the Living are revealed
and with each sojourn, I remember bits and pieces of knowledge. My last death
was the longest yet and with it, I returned to this Realm with the secrets that
have long since plagued me since I returned here to Great Britain.�

Hope
and interest flared in the eyes of all present.

�You
know what we are?� Pansy asked breathlessly.

Cyriacus
smiled rather oddly, not quite bitter and not quite mocking. �Aye, I know what
we are.� Turning he faced Voldemort and gave his lover a slight bow.
�Congratulations, you�ve managed to create a hybrid species of mostly humanoid
magic wielding, transitory semi-reptilians. It�s quite a feat.�

Quite
a few jaws dropped open in a most unattractive fashion while others stared
either at Voldemort or Cyriacus. Voldemort had knocked over his glass of water,
which had shot across the table and spilled onto an unaware Damien Cartier�s
lap.

�What?!�
Several Elite shouted.

Cyriacus�s
lips curved into an amused smile. �You heard me quite clearly. Voldemort has,
with the aid of whatever mad Potions Master predated my father, created hybrid
humans. Albeit magical ones, there�s no way for any of us to be anything less
than magical at this point. Forget all that propaganda of the purity of Pureblood
Wizards, no other creatures save the Primordial Beings and the fully Magical
Beings will have as much pure, magical
blood as us.�

�I
don�t�understand.� Rabastan managed to choke out.

�What�s
there not to understand? Our very genetic structure was changed in the womb and
though we don�t develop our full powers or ability to Transform
until the end of adolescence, we all are far more magical than normal Wizards
and Witches. From what I understand, we will all live to see perhaps a quarter
of a millennia at the least and half a millennia at the most. Every child sired
or mothered by any of the Elite will also become hybrids. In a millennia or
less it may be possible that our kind will have taken over what remains of the
Wizarding World, it depends I suppose on whether we distribute the Anguis Potion to
anyone else.�

Severus
gaped for a full minute before collecting himself. �You know the recipe to make
the Anguis
Potion?�

�Is
it reversible?� Samantha Fawcett demanded.

Cyriacus
chuckled. �I know the recipe yes, and no it�s not reversible. Not unless you
want to commit suicide anyway. There is no way to reverse what was done to us
without killing us in the process and we�re far too valuable for that fate I
imagine. Not to mention that no one has a hope in Hell of trying to kill one of
us, let alone all of us.�

Voldemort
took a deep breath to calm his fraying nerves. �What does this mean in all
seriousness?�

�If
we were to construct a social structure for the Hybrids, the others are
subservient to Draco, Altair, Antares and Valerius and all of them are
subservient to me. From what I understand, we could easily reproduce with
Muggles, wizards, most Magical Beings and probably most of the Primordial
Beings as well. If we were to distribute the Anguis Potion, I would have to
supply the blood to ensure that all future Hybrids were under my reign. The
first generation of Hybrids are already sworn to serve you by manner of blood
based Dark Arts and the rest would be sworn to me and I in turn am already sworn
to you.� Cyriacus explained simply.

Nusayr
frowned at the implications but otherwise remained silent; Asadyl was not going
to be happy about this�meddling.

As
the room broke out into loud arguments or exclamations, Cyriacus merely closed
his eyes as he felt a familiar unpleasant prickling sensation wash over his
body. Pain would be imminent soon and he had no desire to show his weakness
here. Gritting his teeth and making a silent request to Nusayr, Cyriacus was
helped to his feet and the two Shadow Stalked up to the
Necromancer�s suite. Knowing how painful the muscle convulsions were,
Nusayr was quick to carry Cyriacus over to the bed.

By
the time Voldemort and Severus arrived seven minutes later, Cyriacus was
gritting his teeth to hold back vocalizing his pain as his eyes watered and his
body convulsed. Severus attempted to rush forward but Nusayr blocked him from
getting too close.

�There�s
nothing any of us may do for him but wait.� Nusayr commented as knocking came
from the hallway door. Voldemort opened it to admit a dark haired, aqua eyed
Revenant who did not wait for permission to enter as he pushed his way past the
Dark Lord. Spotting the Necromancer on the bed and the frustrated looking
Wraith, the Revenant rapidly started a conversation in that odd language that
none of the wizards knew.

�He
is worsening; this would be the sixth onset of this�attack since the ceremony
two days ago.� Juraz said frowning darkly.

Nusayr
growled. �What would you have us do? Your senses may not be as keen as mine but
I have no doubts that you can smell just as well as I. The Necromancer smells
nothing like either of us or even these stick wavers. I will not have Asadyl
ready to cut off my head for an inept attempt to Heal
his son!�

Juraz held up his
hands. �I am not suggesting that we attempt to Heal
him with magic, Wraith.�

�Then
what exactly are you suggesting?�

�It
is possible that he has enough mixed blood that he might be capable of using
the Blood Healing we use.� Juraz suggested.

�Are
you insane? He is more mortal than immortal, wraith blood is poisonous and
Revenant blood is acidic to most life forms!� Nusayr exclaimed.

Juraz
crossed his arms. �I was there Wraith and I watched the Necromancer battle with
you. He took nearly sixteen deep cuts with your claws before the poison
overwhelmed his body. If we are careful, it would be more than possible to
safely mix him a Blood potion that would not overwhelm his body.�

Nusayr
frowned but saw the reason in the Juraz�s statement
and reluctantly agreed as he slit a wrist and let his blood collect in a black
orb of energy. �I will watch over the kyndrak, be swift.�

�I
will.� Juraz agreed as he accepted the orb of blood
and quickly left the room.

After
what seemed like hours, Cyriacus�s body stilled and he drew short pained
breaths. Nusayr ignored the others as he stripped Cyriacus of his clothes and
tucked him into the bed before moving around and lighting some scented candles.
Once the candles were lit, he returned with a vial of Sleeping Potion which Cyriacus
drank without protesting.

Voldemort
waited until his lover had drifted off to sleep. �How long has he been like
this?�

�Since the ceremony two days ago.�

�And
he�s said nothing about it, why?� Severus demanded, staring at the Wraith.

Nusayr
crossed his arms. �He is stubborn but most of all, he does not wish to appear
more weak than is already believed. The Revenants have decided to attempt a
Blood healing, which may help him recover more quickly. We will see however if
their research proves to be of use. If that is all, you should go; I will keep
watch over him.�

Neither
men looked happy but they left Severus through the hall door and Voldemort
through the door that led to his Floo room and his
suite beyond.

Pacing
the confines of his study, Voldemort resisted the urge to destroy the various
crystal figurines and marble busts scattered throughout the room. The portrait
of Salazar Slytherin, hanging on the wall opposite looked vaguely amused as he
watched his descendant pace back and forth, a glass of Ogden�s finest Brandy in
one hand. After watching his Heir pace back and forth for nearly ten minutes,
Slytherin finally spoke.

�What
troubles you so, Marvolo?�

Voldemort
paused at hearing his middle name but did not object, his ancestor had insisted
on calling him Marvolo as they both detested his
plebian shortened first name of Tom and his Muggle father�s last name of
Riddle.

�I
am�worried about young Snape.� Voldemort said hesitantly, knowing he could
trust his ancestor with his secrets yet not wholly willing to speak of them.

�And
why are you worried about the young Necromancer?�

Voldemort
sat down behind his desk and drank his brandy. �Why am I worried? Cyriacus is
not yet recovered and he has been having convulsions from not being able to Transform. He is not the same man he was before the Summit. He is quieter,
more thoughtful and what he has learned about the Elite is�unexpected.�

Salazar
listened as Voldemort explained about Cyriacus�s discovery about the origins
behind the Elite and the strange behavior from the younger wizard since his
resurrection.

��watching him. He seems different now, as if he is not wholly in this world and his
eyes reflect that.� Voldemort finished as he poured himself more brandy and
emptied it gratefully.

Salazar
collected his thoughts before speaking. �You have said yourself that he has not
fully recovered and Cyriacus has admitted that he learns more and more with
each death. Could it not be that he is too busy absorbing what he learned and
finding use for it in this world? He has always shouldered burdens, the weight
of this world once was held upon his shoulders and he is young yet, I think you
have nothing to worry over.�

Voldemort
opened his mouth to speak, shut it and then hesitantly put all his cards on the
table. �He has been avoiding me of late��

�Why
would that distress you so much Marvolo?� Salazar
asked mind brimming with possible reasons.

�He
and I have come to a�understanding. I know he is not well but the way he avoids
my touch and simply being alone in my presence troubles me.� Voldemort said
with a sigh.

Salazar
caught on quickly, mind racing. �You and he are lovers?!�

�Yes.�

Salazar
frowned, shaking his head. This was not expected at all but then everything
has changed so much from the original vision�

�Perhaps
he is re-adjusting to the situation.� Salazar finally commented, reminding
himself to visit his frame at Arcanum after he finished speaking to his Heir.
�I imagine that even if he did plan his �death� out, it would be awkward to be
intimate with the person who tortured and killed him not a week ago.�

�True enough. I suppose that all of us have
had a stressful week. From what some of the portraits have been able to
discern, quite a large number of the First tier Death Eaters and even some of
the Inner Circle are not quite sure what to
think of Cyriacus. I admit to being largely impressed by his control, had I
been torturing him for information, he would not have given me any.�

�He
may not be Godric�s Heir by blood and seed, but he is
very like Royce. Unlike his elder brother, Royce had a great deal of common
sense and was a swordsman and wizard of great skill. I have no doubts that
young Snape is very much like his forefather Royce and slightly like his many times
Great-granduncle Godric.� Salazar said thoughtfully.

�Great-granduncle?� Voldemort questioned, rolling his eyes. �I suppose I
should not be surprised. Bloody Gryffindors.�

Salazar
smiled and nodded. �Indeed.�

Voldemort
frowned as he got to his feet to pace restlessly. �Nagini
will arrive soon hopefully, I would like to know what exactly my followers are
saying but I can hardly deny her the right to mate. It�s been nearly twenty
years since her last brood and even I admit that those that returned with her
were of great use.�

�Perhaps
you should recruit more snakes if they are so useful to your cause.� Salazar
suggested.

�I
will look into it when I leave for the Congress in October. It is fortuitous
that we are meeting in the abandoned Wizarding quarter on the outskirts Casablanca. Not even that
fool Dumbledore or the Defense League would suspect a meeting there after what
happened the last time the Dark Congress met there.�

Salazar
looked amused. �I should think that the sudden explosion in the Manticore
population would have scared away most and everyone
fled the moment rumors of a Nundu sighting
spread. You are certain that the area has been secured, Marvolo?�

�I
have the pledge of both the Vampire High Council and the Werewolf Chiefdom that
all former threats have either died out or been removed. Of course, I would not
take their word alone but I have had a few select individuals scout the area
and it seems safe enough. If it can be arranged, I will take Cyriacus with me
as the Necromancer to assure our safety but it is crucial that we come to
terms. The Light will not offer them nearly as many freedoms as I can so we
will see.�

�You
have placed a great deal of trust in the Necromancer.�

Voldemort
glanced over his shoulder at his ancestor. �At present he is my Prime, my right
hand and his faith I do not question as he cannot betray or slay me. It is my
intention that in the future he will stand beside me not as my right hand but
as my Consort. Who better to lay my trust in than he?�

Salazar
had no response to that revelation and watched as his descendant extinguished
the lights and retired to bed.

The Elite Wing

Riddle Mansion, Little Hangleton UK

Wednesday September 3^rd 1997

3:05 AM

Cyriacus
had just stepped outside of his bathroom wearing nothing but a towel when the
door to his bedroom was thrown open. Nusayr, who was in his
ocelot form, hissed at the small crowd of Elite standing in the doorway.
Cyriacus on the other hand, only looked amused as he walked over to the trunk
containing his formal clothes and began to rummage around looking for clothes.
When he returned to his suite in the Elite Wing, it had been nearly silent in
the Common Room. He imagined that anyone who was still awake had a great deal
on their minds now that he had revealed what little he had learned about the
nature of being born a Hybrid.

�How did you do it?!� Draco demanded, holding up the Special edition Daily Prophet.

Cyriacus
didn�t even spare the Pureblood a glance. �Where do you think the Scholars of Mors are schooled at?�

Nusayr
changed into his human form and scowling grabbed the newspaper out of Draco�s
hand and read through the front page article.

Boy-Who-Lived
to be interred on Isle of Lore!

By: Rita Skeeter

Special
Edition, Daily Prophet

Today, Harry
Potter is to be laid to rest after being gruesomely killed by
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named during the Summit
which took place August 27^th at Fudge Manor. Mr. Potter�s Law Wizard
Firm, Brandt and Moreau, has closely guarded the location of their client�s place
of burial though the burial itself is open to the public.

At 1:30 A.M. the location of Mr. Potter�s
place of burial was announced to a small gathering of media from all over the
globe. Mr. Potter is to be interred on the Isle of Lore, in the highly vaunted
Helios lot at 10:30 a.m.

Sources
indicate that the only invitations to the burial were given to:

Mr. Cyriacus Snape, Blood Brother of the
deceased

Mr. Sirius
Black, Godfather of the deceased

Mr. Remus
Lupin, Family acquaintance of the deceased

Surprisingly enough, all current and former
students and staff of the Arcanum Institute of Magic were
also invited to the burial. Noticeably absent were invitations to Mr. Potter�s
former friends, Mr. Ronald Weasley and Ms. Hermione
Granger or even Mr. Potter�s mentor and Leader of the Order of the Phoenix, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore�

Blaise
Zabini snorted. �Everything comes back to Arcanum;
I�m starting to think that I can find all the secrets of the universe at your
bloody school.�

�I
can show you the exact room if you�re interested.� Cyriacus replied absently as
he dropped his towel and got dressed, ignoring the eyes of the surprised crowd
by the door.

Valerius
was the first to regain the ability to speak. �You�re wearing black and
lavender robes to the funeral?�

Cyriacus
glared at the mocking tone. �I�ll have you know that these are a combination of
my family colors.�

�But
the Snape colors are black and silver.� Terrence Higgs pointed out.

Cyriacus
rolled his eyes. �According to the Wizarding public, I�m the son of Severus Honoratius Snape and Celeste Genevieve Levesque. The black
is from my father and lavender from my �mother�. Erg, I don�t even want to
imagine what my Family robes will look like after I come into the Potter
Inheritance again.�

�Is that why you started wearing that amethyst
ring?� Morag asked pointing at the large amethyst stone set in a platinum band
on his left hand.

�Actually,
this makes it so that any Identifying Charms recognize me as the son of Severus
Snape and Celeste Levesque. I never took the Glamour off but I might as well at
this point.� Cyriacus replied as he straightened his robes.

Blaise
rolled his eyes, �Let me guess, you�ll start wearing the Potter Signet ring
publicly after you come into the inheritance too?�

�But
of course, it will be a lover�s token, the last link to the man I loved.�
Cyriacus said batting his eyes and striking a tragic pose.

The
Elite just shook their heads in faint amusement.

�Well
I�ll be on my way then back to Snape Manor. I�ll see most, if not all of you,
at the burial later today. Trust me; you won�t want to miss it.� Cyriacus said
winking as he tossed a black cloak over his robes clasping it shut before
striding off into the shadows.

The Isle of Lore, the Celtic Sea

Wednesday September 3^rd 1997

9:45 AM

Cyriacus
stepped off the south Apparition Point, idly looking around the isle. It was a
well tended, monstrously sized isle covered in emerald green grass and huge
flowering ornamental plants. It was a brisk day, the sky was devoid of clouds,
the sun was shining and the wind was blowing gently from the north. A turquoise
robed Scholar approached him and led the way over the gray cobbled path to the
heart of the island. It was truly a marvel, how the Scholars had managed to use
the old Earth Magicks to shape the isle and its
plants to their will.

As
anyone who had read the Book of Ages
knew, the Scholars had been of a Greek mind when they had first arrived on the
isle. The eight largest lots had been named in honor of Greek deities; the
outermost eastern plots had been named after Eos, the Goddess of Dawn and were
respectively known as Eos-North and Eos-South. Opposite them on the Western
part of the isle were Nyx-North and Nyx-South. The inner two plots of the eastern side were
named Aither, North and South and opposite were Hesperos, North and South. In the very center of the isle
were the final three lots which were accorded to those Witches and Wizards of
greatest renown. The center hexagonal lot, Helios was the highest vaunted on
the island and rumor had it that the remains of both Merlin and the Hogwarts
Founders had been relocated here at the request of their respective
descendants. Flanking the Helios lot, were the Aigil
and Phoibi lots, which after the Helios lot were the
next highly coveted lots on the isle.

The
entire isle was covered in elaborate Wards to protect the remains of the
deceased and each lot was additionally surrounded by huge visible, shimmering
Proximity wards. These Proximity wards allowed no one entrance who did not had
not arranged to pay their respects with the Scholars. The four Outermost lots
were protected with gold Proximity wards, the Inner four lots were protected
with silver wards, the Outermost center lots were protected by pale blue wards
and the Helios lot had thick white wards. Interspaced within and outside the
wards, were the beautifying foliage and marble statues created by the Scholars.
It seemed that they had settled on sticking to a color scheme based on the
wards. As Cyriacus followed the Scholar he noted the towering gold hued Witchhazel, the yellow flowering Forsythia and gold hued
Hydrangea. Those in turn gave way to silver flowered white branched Dogwood,
silver Climbing Roses, pale silver Viburnum and the
delicate silver flowered Barberry. Then there were the pale blue Lilacs, the
silver leaved blue flowered Potentilla, blue Rose of Sharons and whispy blue Weigela.

It
wasn�t until they had just crossed the wards of the Aigil
lot, that Cyriacus understood why a Scholar had been waiting for him. There
were several hundred people in attendance for the burial and as Cyriacus had
been invited, he had a place closest to the actual burial sight. As the crowd
parted for them, Cyriacus could hear the whispers following in his wake.

�That�s
him, the Blood brother of that defector��

��just
turned sixteen and he reeks of power, do you not feel it?�

�Look
at his eyes, they�re so fey. They make me shudder��

��Family
robes? The Black is from his father but the lavender?�

And
then, they finally reached the Helios lot and he spotted the robes of his
fellow Alumni and former schoolmates. The most prominent of the Alumni had come
and all of them were showing their solidarity by wearing the Arcanum robes. As
he was lead to the very front where the burial would take place, he noted that
the Arcanum faction all formed half of the circle about thirty feet around the
gravesite. He received condolences, handshakes, and hugs from close friends all
wearing a tired smile. When he finally was led to the gravesite, he was met by
Headmaster Randolph.

�It�s
good to see you looking so well, Cyriacus.� Headmaster Randolph greeted as he smiled, setting a hand
on Cyriacus�s shoulder.

Cyriacus
smiled weakly, playing to the crowd of watchers. �It�has been hard.�

�Vincit qui patitur,
remember that Cyriacus.�

�I
haven�t forgotten.� Cyriacus said softly before examining the new phrase on the
front of the Headmaster�s robe which now read Semper fidelis. �You�ve changed the school�s
motto?�

Headmaster
Randolph
glanced around at the crowd standing on the opposite side of the Arcanum
faction and then stared at the grave before speaking up a little more loudly.
�Only for today, today we will let no one doubt that we stand by our own. Semper fidelis!�
(Always faithful)

As
one the former and current Arcanum students echoed his words, drawing the
attention of the crowd of �outsiders�.

Cyriacus
only nodded slowly, repeating the words. �Semper fidelis.�

As
the time drew closer and closer to 10:30, more and more Scholars arrived
surrounding the gravesite and forming four groups of three cast
a large Monstro Charm, which would allow even the
people at the very edge of the gathering to see the burial as it took place.
Cyriacus was having a quiet discussion with Professor Dumont about how his
experiments with Potions were going. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw
Dumbledore and some Order members moving into positions on the edge of the
gravesite. As he was purposely standing with Professor Dumont at the very edge
of the Arcanum faction, Cyriacus mentally grinned as his plans all fell into
place neatly.

The
chattering of the crowd dimmed as the wailing notes of the Burial March were
magically played across the whole island. It was a wildly haunting dirge of
death, every note vibrated with grief and emptiness causing everyone who
listened to fall silent. Cyriacus set his eyes on the north as he waited,
watching the crowd part as the Prelate-Scholar appeared face hidden behind a
silver mask. Following behind him were Two Cleric-Scholars walking on each side
of the floating crystal coffin, while three Acolyte-Scholars trailed them, one
carrying the Potter Family Seal on a gold shield and the other two carried a
flaming blue torch and a vessel of gold oil.

The crystal
coffin was set over the grave, hovering as the Scholars moved into position.
The Prelate-Scholar moved to the left of the coffin followed by the
Cleric-Scholars who stood behind and to the side of him. The shield bearer
stood directly across from the Prelate-Scholar while the two remaining
Acolyte-Scholars stood at each end of the coffin. With a gesture of his hand,
the Burial March was silenced and unrolling a scroll of parchment from his
sleeve, he began.

�We
gather here today to honor one who has newly crossed into the Celestial plane.
Harold James Potter, son of James Patrick Potter and Lily Violet Potter n�e
Evans, Lord of the Families: Potter, McKnight, Argyle, Ciodn�
and Merryck. First Tier Lord of the Guild of Blood
Magicians, First Tier Lord of the Guild of Lost Magicks,
First Tier Lord of the Guild of Mind Magicians and Second Tier Lord of the
Guild of Dark Magicks. Long may his name live!� The
Prelate scattered a fistful of crushed herbs over Harry�s body.

�In
the name of the powers that be, let no evil defile his flesh. In the honor of
those who stood as friend, ally and lover, let none speak ill of the deceased.
With the blessing of the Scholars of Mors, may his
spirit find eternal peace.� The Prelate scattered a
fistful of dried rose petals and lotus flowers over the body. Then the Acolyte
carrying the vessel of oil, poured the fragrant oil all over Harry�s body and
casting a spell, made sure the clothes were completely soaked in the oil.

�In
the name of the powers that be, let all impurities be cleansed of this flesh
and let nothing remain but ash.� The Prelate intoned and the Acolyte with the
torch prepared to set the body aflame and that is when Dumbledore and his Order
struck, casting glowing green orbs at the ground, from various positions in the
massive crowd. Upon smashing green vapor temporarily immobilized all those it
came into contact with as Dumbledore and his Order moved forward.

The
Prelate-Scholar was sputtering with indignation at the travesty taking place
and Cyriacus, who was immune to the vapor, was being held back by Bill and
Charlie Weasley and Oliver Wood.

��Disgrace!
Not even a Dark Lord has attempted something so crass!�

Cyriacus�s
face was turning red with fury. �Dumbledore you meddling, madman what the hell
do you think you�re doing?!�

Moody
cast a Silencing Charm on him as Dumbledore and McGonagall quickly began to
make sand runes on the ground around the coffin. Several minutes later, a wispy
Harry Potter was floating above his body looking unsurprised.

�Ah Dumbledore, why am I not surprised? You never could leave anything alone now could you?�
Harry glanced around at the crowd and the angry voices of the Scholars. �Well
it certainly doesn�t look like you�ll receive the honor of being buried here
and good riddance, I shouldn�t like to have my ashes within two hundred miles
of yours.�

Dumbledore
ignored Harry�s barbs. �You are obligated to answer my questions so long as
they do not pertain to any knowledge you have learned since your death. Why did
you allow Voldemort to capture, torture and kill you?�

�You
of all people know why, because it was inevitable, it was fate, it was prophesized! Do you think I liked it
any better? I�m the one who�s dead at seventeen!�

�Why
did you give Voldemort the information about Merlin�s Prophecy?�

Harry
snorted �Did you ever perhaps think that I gave it to him, and to everyone
listening, as a warning of what was coming? Have you even read the Prophecy?
You don�t stand a chance of stopping the Dragon Prince; he�ll bathe the world
in blood and bring about a Dark Age before dying. I wanted to warn everyone
what is coming and what they are risking if they defy the Dragon Prince, he
won�t hesitate to kill those who oppose him. If you thought Voldemort was bad,
you have no concept of what is coming next and there�s nothing the Ministry,
the Defense League or even you can do to stop him.�

Still
being held back, Cyriacus�s eyes widened as suppressed memories began to flood
his mind, Merlin�s Prophecy�the Dragon Prince...and Arcanum, the secret within
a secret.

Dumbledore
frowned. �But the Trelawney Prophecy clearly states��

�What
don�t you understand about, �and either
must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives�.
Am I not dead?� (1)

Dumbledore
shook his head. �You had so much more power than Voldemort, why did you choose
to die?�

�I
was a sacrifice Dumbledore, don�t pretend ignorance. We both know that you
never expected me to survive the final confrontation with Voldemort and I know that Fudge had no intention of
letting me linger if I did. Don�t get your knickers in a twist that I chose a
way out that none of your foresaw. Love makes some men fools but not me, never
me. With my dying breath, I safeguarded the only person who will truly mourn my
passing and with it, I gave him the power to survive what is coming.� Harry answered, looking only at
Cyriacus.

�I
do not understand! Why have you chosen this path?�

�You�re
such a fool; did you really think I wouldn�t find out? Before I died, I knew
every dirty secret that you kept about my childhood and the years I was at
Hogwarts. Shall I start at the beginning? You warded my Aunt�s house, you even
had watchers but did you do anything
when I was being starved, beaten and abused? No, you did nothing.� Harry spat out with venom, eyes burning with hatred.

The
crowd was staring; riveted at Harry as he made his accusations which could not
be lies, not at a s�ance cast around the deceased�s body.

�No
one has asked you why I was transferred to Arcanum and why they allowed it,
making it seem as if you in your greatness convinced
them to take me. That was not what happened; I know what happened and what you
did. You had wards placed on my Aunt�s house redirecting any owl post to a
special office where you inspected the mail �for my safety� you told Fudge.
When I was eight and a half, I got a Letter that you didn�t dare let anyone
know I had received. It�s rare for someone to receive a School Letter before
their eleventh year, I myself have only met two people who received an early
Letter and that would be my Blood Brother Cyriacus and you, yourself
Headmaster. In all the history of Wizarding Schools, the youngest age anyone
ever received a School Letter was nine and that would have been Nicholas Flamel but I, I shattered that record with an astonishing
eight and half years of age. You burned that letter the moment you finished
reading it and sent a note declining in the name of my guardians.�

Someone
in the crowd gasped and soon everyone was murmuring in surprise but Harry
hadn�t finished yet, not even close.

�You
knew that Voldemort would come back someday and you decided to prepare me for
that by leading me unknowingly along on a merry chase. Every adventure I had at
that blasted school except Third and Fourth year were manufactured by you and
even in Fourth year you had decided to make the best of it by making it as
difficult as you could. You knew there was a traitor either at Hogwarts or in
the Triwizard committee and you turned a blind eye
when it was convenient for you! But you couldn�t even guess why I had been
involved, thinking that one of Voldemort�s followers had just arranged for an
accident to occur during the Tasks. Everything fell apart when Cedric Diggory and I were Port-keyed away from Hogwarts and that
was when you knew you had bungled it. The moment you could arrange it, you
talked to Headmaster Randolph and had me shipped to Arcanum barely a week after
school let out. That was probably the only intelligent thing you�ve done in the
last sixteen years!�

Cyriacus
struggled against his captors and using a Wandless spell,
sent a painful shock through his captors. They released him, crumbling boneless
onto the ground. Drawing his wand, Cyriacus broke the Silencing Spell and
turned to face off against Dumbledore.

Dumbledore
only shook his head. �I will admit I did rescind your Arcanum letter but I
assure you I had no idea of the abuse you suffered with your relatives. Had I
known, it would not have continued and you would not have been sent back. As
for your comments about the Triwizard Tournament I
did my best to find out who put your name in the Goblet of Fire but Barty Crouch Jr. did a very thorough impersonation of Alastor Moody. I do not know where these baseless
accusations have come from but I have no doubt it is the work of Lord
Voldemort.� Dumbledore reached around the Prelate and casting
a spell removing the dagger.

�You
imbecile, you don�t know what you�ve-� Harry began
screaming but he was cut off when an elaborate illusion of Nusayr and Nemesis
reappeared in their aspect of the primordial soul thieves. Each of them grabbed
one of Harry�s arms and began to argue over who got to take Harry�s soul.

�No!�
Cyriacus shouted dodging spells from the Order as he attempted to make his way
to the coffin. Just as he was conjuring another dagger to replace the one
Dumbledore removed, the Immobilizing vapor wore off and the Acolyte with the
torch dropped it the moment that Cyriacus drove the dagger into Harry�s chest.
The illusions above faded away as Cyriacus shrieked from the inhuman pain as
the hungry blue flames roared to life. The Prelate-Scholar quickly cast a
Flame-Freezing Charm on Cyriacus as a Cleric pulled him away from the coffin
and forced Cyriacus to sit down as he attempted to gauge how badly damaged his
left arm was.

Harry
snarled at Dumbledore. �You, Albus Dumbledore, are a
lying, manipulative old man and I hope that someone will see to it you pay for
your foolishness! I swear if I were alive, I�d make you regret the day your
mother bore you!� Harry turned away and floated down to where Cyriacus was
being tended by the two Clerics and a Mediwitch who
had rushed forward from the crowd.

The
Prelate-Scholar jerked his mask off as he turned to face Dumbledore and let
loose with his wrath. �You Sir are a disrespectful, arrogant fool of a Wizard!
How dare you interfere with a burial
service? Your presence here on my isle is a disgrace to those buried here! I, Ambrosius LeCouer,
Prelate-Scholar of the Scholars of Mors and Guardian
of the Isle of Lore, Banish Albus Wulfric
Percival Brian Dumbledore from these hallowed shores and revoke the Right of
Burial upon these shores.� The Prelate waved his wand in a zigzag and
Dumbledore was ejected from the Isle with some help from the wards. Turning he also Banished Moody, McGonagall, Bill, Charlie and
Oliver before joining the cluster of wizards and witches surrounding Cyriacus.

�Where
is that greasy git of a father of yours when you
bloody need him?� Harry ranted, unable to listen to Cyriacus�s half muffled
whimpers of pain. Though Dumbledore had followed the plan to the letter,
Cyriacus was not supposed to be
injured in the process. The burns, caused by a particularly vicious
Purification Flame which was not designed to be used on a living being, had
done serious damage.

One
of the Clerics turned to the Prelate. �We have done what we can but it is not
enough, it would be best if we send him to St. Mungo�s.�

�So
be it. Zorrah and Etienne shall take him to St. Mungo�s and I will see to the rest of the ceremony and join
you there after all the guests have departed. Stay with him and ensure the
Healers do not give him any potions or put on any pastes that contain Poppy
seed or balm.� The Prelate instructed, looking firmly at the Cleric and one of
the Acolytes.

�We
will not forget.� Zorrah replied as Etienne levitated
Cyriacus, while she moved forward to clear a path.

��rry.� Cyriacus gasped out, eyes watering from the pain.

Harry
tried to smile reassuringly, remembering that there was indeed a crowd to play
to. �Get well Cyriacus, it will be better I promise. I love you, forever and
always remember? I�ll keep watch over you.� Harry dropped a cool kiss on
Cyriacus�s lips and the astonished Cleric shook his head as he raced to the nearest
Apparation Point.

�Why
don�t you disable this s�ance so I can return to my eternal peace?� Harry
suggested as he turned to face the Prelate-Scholar.

�Of
course,� The Prelate replied and with a flick of his wrist, the sand runes were
displaced and Harry vanished. Walking over to the coffin all he saw were ashes
and a melted pool of metal. Drawing a deep breath, he put his mask back on and
finished the ceremony, conjuring a crystal top to fuse onto the coffin and
lowered it into the grave. From the south, a small procession of Clerics
floated the elaborate stone Griffin
which would forever guard Harry Potter�s remains. The Griffin was placed over the neatly filled
hole and awoken with a tap of the Prelate�s wand to its beak. Blinking the Griffin yawned, stretched
and then settled down to sleep.

The
Prelate then allowed the guests to leave tokens and flowers as he watched on.
It was nearly three hours later before the Isle was emptied of all non Scholars
and after changing into regular Scholar robes instead of his Ceremonial robes,
he departed for St. Mungo�s.

A Private Meeting Room

Gringott�s Bank, Diagon Alley, London UK

Friday September 5^th 1997

2:15 PM

Cyriacus
was the last to arrive at the reading of the will which was really not all that
surprising as the Healers had not wanted him to leave at all but as he would
only be gone for two hours at the most had grudgingly agreed. As he entered the
room, he noted that all invited and those he had specifically requested as
representatives had come. Sirius and Remus were there by invitation of course,
shooting him anxious looks from the far end of the room. Each of his close Arcanum friends were there, also giving him worried
looks, sitting across from Remus and Sirius. Alaric was there to read the will
sitting at the head of the table, Gulden Hawkeye sulked in his chair, no doubt
worried about the pile of paperwork he would have to file as the Gringotts representative and the Ministry representative
was Mr. Abide-by-the-laws Percival Weasley. Eloise Winston
from the International Zephyr was
also present, both as the media representative and the representative of the International Zephyr. Upon Cyriacus
taking a seat, Alaric began.

�We
are gathered here today to listen to the last will and testament of one Harold
James Potter, son of James Patrick Potter and Lily Violet Potter n�e Evans,
Lord of the Families: Potter, McKnight, Argyle, Ciodn�
and Merryck.� Alaric read taking a deep breath before
continuing. �I, Harold James Potter, of sound mind and body leave this document
as the legal distribution of my properties and assets. To Messrs. Sirius Black
and Remus Lupin, I leave 500,000 Galleons to be dived equally to both and joint
ownership of the property Marauder�s Den, located in Sussex. I trust you will enjoy this
gift, I�m sure it holds many fond memories for you both. To Mr. Anthony
Arrington, I leave my collection of Charms books as I know it will be
appreciated and of use. To Mr. Sunan Metharom I leave my collection of Asian
swords and daggers enjoy them but remember they are meant to be both used and
admired. To Ms. Leah Maitland, I leave six of my finest Aethonans
for your use and pleasure, this I know you will enjoy.�

Alaric
took a moment to have a drink of water before continuing. �To Mr. Sigurd Frisk,
I leave my entire collection of Quidditch Memorabilia sans my Firebolt. I expect you to win the damned Quidditch World
Cup after reading all the strategy books, so play hard Sigurd! To Ms. Hotaru
Suzuki, I leave a letter of recommendation for Apprenticeship to the great
Healer Olivia Stone and six bolts of fabric from my family warehouse. Follow
your dream and remember me fondly. To Mr. Ransom Wright, you already have an
amazing mind so there�s not much I could have left you that might have done you
some good. So I leave you with a small cottage located on the coast of Maine,
hopefully it will be a nice place for you to get away from it all or test your
experimental spells.�

�To
Mr. Cyriacus Snape, the love of my life and my own personal savior, I leave all
remaining property, stocks, money et cetra. I know
that it may not be as good as having me there with you but this is the best I
could have done for the circumstances I found myself in. You�ll notice I have
lots of property and money galore, none of which would be terribly interesting
for you I know, I know. However, here�s something to even the playing field my
love, with my death the Gryffindor heritage has died out but with you as my
Heir (do forgive the term) that makes you the next Lord of Gryffindor. Why this matters you might ask? Well as LoG
you have quite a bit of weight you can toss around plus you now have a seat on
the Board of Governors at Hogwarts. This will make you a hot commodity, and I
expect you�ll be drowning in marriage proposals but know this, no one will ever
love you as much as I do. You made every day since we met worth living and I
will have no worse regret than missing out on all the years we would have had
together. My love is yours eternally and I ask but one thing; live, love and be
happy, my beloved. I will personally come back and haunt you if you become
anything like your father, mainly sarcastic, cruel and loveless. Don�t doubt
it, I�ll find a way!�

Alaric
paused to take a drink of water. �And finally, to the representative of the
esteemed International Zephyr, no
matter how my death came about I myself have no doubts that my name will be
dragged through the mud. As I am deceased I could care less what the living
have to say about me but out of fear for my lover�s welfare, I bequeath a
folder of documents to be published in your newspaper on Sunday the 7^th
of September 1997. I have no doubts that you will accept these documents, as no
doubt your newspaper shall be the only one in the entire Wizarding World that
will have the true facts. Among
these documents are some details about my life after my departure from Great Britain
in the summer of 1995, all the way to a week before my death. A large portion
of these documents describe my relationship with Cyriacus Snape who has, prior
to the release of these papers, been quite the enigma to the Wizarding World. I
have but two stipulations: one, none of these documents can be altered or
presented in such a way that the truth is changed or made untrue and second,
you will not sell these documents to any other publication, personage or
Ministry. Failure to follow this stipulation will unleash the Curse of Eternal
Misfortune upon all persons working for or associated with the International Zephyr, including family,
lovers and even familiars.�

For
the sake of the Ministry official and the reporter, Cyriacus managed to force a
few tears and Hotaru who was sitting to his left, gave him a hug allowing him
time to �collect himself�. Luckily or unluckily, he was already tired and exhausted
enough from his stay at St. Mungo�s that he needed no
charms to look awful. Alaric passed around some papers that needed signing from
each invitee and representative. Gulden made himself
available to Cyriacus who directed him to have all the funds removed to as many
Vaults as it took to combine the massive fortune. Once all the legal documents
were signed and the items had been given to their new owners (the reporter
gloatingly rushing off to return to the Zephyr
headquarters), the meeting broke up and Cyriacus tiredly made his way back to
his room at St. Mungo�s.

As
he arrived back at the Hospital, he was ushered back to his room and his nurse
made a fuss and had him back in bed and drinking his afternoon potions as she
changed the dressing on his arm. His left arm was slowly beginning to heal at a
rapid pace, which had astonished his Healers. Had he been a normal Wizard it
was likely he would left with either a useless limb or no limb (due to
amputation) after being exposed to a Purification Flame. The Healers estimated
that his arm would take almost a month to completely heal and though his arm
would be heavily scarred, there was likely to be no lasting muscle, nerve or
tendon damage. He was very thankful of his status as a hybrid; he had no desire
to be anything like that traitor Wormtail, with his
silver arm. Yawning, he felt his eyelids get heavier as the Sleeping Potion
began to spread throughout his body. Just before he drifted off, he felt the
nurse finish coating his arm and hand with a Numbing paste that also would help
his tissue grow and knit, before wrapping his arm in a copious amount of soft
gauze dressing. As he heard his door click shut one thought drifted across his
mind before consciousness slipped away, it had been one hell of a week and next
week did not look much better.

TBC�

First
of all, I�m happy that�s done with and yes, I know lots of things I said I�d
get to that I never got to. I will get to them in the next couple of chapters,
have no fear. Second, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS!!! They really kept
me going when ID was not working with me last week.

Final
note:

Regarding (1)- This is a direct quote from JKR�s Order of
the Phoenix (in
my case, the hardcover edition) it can be found in Chapter 27, page 841, second
paragraph. I do not own this quote!!!

Hopefully
this chapter was good, I had issues early on but then my muse returned and we
ironed out the rest of the details. Please Read and Review!

NEXT CHAPTER (ALWAYS
SUBJECT TO CHANGE)-

Cyriacus
and Voldemort talk, Cy and the Elite talk about their lives and what the future
holds, Timaeus and Taranis confess to Cy, Dumbledore
faces the Order, the Wizarding World learns the truth courtesy of the
International Zephyr, Cyriacus gets a new familiar and Nagini
returns!

-SheWolfe7
(5/10/04)
- 15
- 16
- 17
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Irreversible Destiny