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Unexpected	By : draconisdemented Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Ginny Views: 26235 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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
- 25
- 26
- 27
Disclaimer: I own nothing!

&;Author's Note: Once again, I do not speak French. I am using a dictionary/translator
on my computer, so I'm aware it won't be perfect. If you do speak French, I
would like to apologize now for any slaughtering of the language I may have
inadvertently caused. Otherwise, what do you care, right?

French translations: ((example))

��

Lycelle collapsed onto the nearest relatively soft thing that she
could make out through her exhaustion, not really caring what it was as long as
she was off of her feet. Her entire body was sore; she felt like she'd been
running a three-day marathon, which wasn't too bad of a comparison seeing as
how she hadn't slept in over seventy-two hours. Not to mention the complete
fucking wreckage her emotions had been left in by all that had transpired. A
strand of her hair came loose from its restraining bun, tickling her nose, but
she didn't have the energy or the willpower to lift a hand and brush it back.
It's not like it really mattered.

Even the thought of worrying over something so small and
insignificant seemed impossible when there was so much more too be concerned
over. Hell, to be panicking over.
Which most everyone was doing, though most had finally succumbed to their
weariness hours before. Three days. It had been three days since the disastrous
mission at Nor Gorgun, three days since everything had changed in ways much
more horrible than they could have imagined. As the images bloomed inside her
skull for the thousandth time, she knew that she would be unable to find any
rest yet again, even though her body and mind screamed for it.

Severus had brought down the out-of-control circles after his
seventh frenzied attempt, and Lycelle had been the first to make it to Virginia
and Padma's side. She hadn't so much as started reaching out her hand for

That was when Virginia had snapped briefly
back into reality.

"F-Fred? Geo-George?" She'd called, surprising everyone.
They'd gone to her immediately, but she'd stood before they could kneel beside
her. "Where are they?"

"Virginia�"

"Where are they!?"
She'd demanded, and they had looked away. Her face falling, she'd taken a deep
breath before running dead eyes over those who had returned. "You all made
it?" She'd asked, her voice oh-so-soft.

"Yes."

"But they didn't." It hadn't really been a question, and
Lycelle had seen the twins' hands shaking when they'd replied anyway.

"No." Their voices had been rough and strained, and she'd
noticed with a start that they had faded a bit, just like Padma, but nowhere
near as drastically as Virginia had.

"It all happened so quickly�" She'd started, and the
first hysterical giggle had escaped her lips. "Did any of you even try to
stop them? Save them?"

"We�" The twins had stopped, their expressions
absolutely wretched, before Padma had reached out and taken their hands, and
they'd continued, their voices still wavering. "There was no time. We
didn't even know what was happening."

"No time."

"Rose, pleas�"

"No! Don't touch me. No one must touch me." She'd
exclaimed, backing away, her hands twisting in her robes and clenching into
fists. "My fault�all my fault�"

"None of this is your fault." Padma had intoned gently,
but Virginia had shaken her head,
her breathing becoming erratic.

"Yes, yes, it is. If he didn't need me, none of this would
have happened. And now�" In a split second, her entire demeanor had
changed, beco wil wild and crazed. "They
promised! They promised they would come back to me! They said they would
never leave me alone, they swore they would never do this�" Falling to her
knees, the pendant they'd given her for Yule had appeared out of her skin,
laying still and glittering on her graying flesh. Then she'd wrapped one hand
around it before snapping off a third of the moon's crescent.

"Virginia, what are you�"

"I want them back!"
She'd yelled frantically, the piece of the Isisian Charm in her fist cutting into
her skin even as the rest had disappeared once more. Turning and throwing the
shard on the floor hard, she'd made her first wish as she'd watched it shatter.
"Do not take them from me! Do not let that miscreant god steal my heart
and soul from me! Bring them back to me! Please�please�bring them back to me�" Her voice had become disjointed and
low towards the end, before she'd sunken to the ground gracelessly, her head in
her hands as her whole body had started shaking violently.

She did not speak a word for hours after that, and no one had
known how to help her, not even Padma and the twins. And they hadn't been much better off anyway, Lycelle thought
caustically. No one had been.
Virginia had gone blank and silent again, and the twins and Padma had done
their best to push past their own grief in order to heal Pansy and Daphne as
best they could, which had been a lot, even though it had drained them more
than they already were. Severus had been, to say the least, highly surprised to
find Bella with them, and the look on his face would have been comical had the
air not been so thick with tragedy.

Lycelle had been quite sick when she'd seen and heard the extent
of her sister and Daphne's wounds, and her head had been throbbing horribly
ever since. The tale of Anton's unleashing had been told in hushed whispers
while they'd been getting supplies ready, and Lycelle had blanched, even as the
others had taken on looks of awe and even deeper respect. Just another of the
numerous ways in which she was bloody different.
Forgive her if she thought that destroying a room full of people with a single
burst of wandless magick 't j't just a bit
freaky. The rest of the story had been spoken in parts by all of them, and
Lycelle hadn't liked a word of it.

Her sister, Daphne, Anton and Bella had all been moved into
Severus's room before the sun had risen, and no one was really expected to go
to classes that day. But a few had been going to breakfast, and Lycelle had
hesitantly made her way to Virginia's side and asked if she wanted to go, just
for a little while. To her surprise, Virginia had risen to join
her. It wasn't until she'd seen the automaton-type movements and dull eyes that
she'd realized the girl wasn't even really aware of, well, anything. Nervous after her earlier attack, Lycelle had led her to
the Great Hall, Sebastian and Marcello shadowing them mournfully but
watchfully.

It had all gone all right at first, none of the rest of the school
had known what had happened, and although they'd given Virginia weird looks, no one
had said anything. It hadn't been until she'd overheard two first year
Slytherins at the end of the table talking in hushed whispers that she'd
snapped. Lycelle hadn't been able to hear what they'd said, but she'd
definitely heard Virginia's acidic, yet somehow
pleading, words as she'd stood abruptly. 'They
are NOT dead!' She'd hissed, her
claws sinking into thick wood a second before she'd sent the entire Slytherin
table flying. It had flipped straight up and over their heads, before slamming
into the wall behind them and breaking in half with a deafening 'BOOM'.

Food and (mostly spiked) juice had flown everywhere, dozens of
students had started screaming, and she'd stalked out of the Hwithwithout a backwards
glance. Lycelle and the others had gone after her, only to find her by Pansy's
bedside, channeling raw, healing energy into her. She'd been zombie-like again,
and stayed that way for an entire day. A day during which they had all avoided
the other Slytherins' questions, but couldn't ignore Dumbledore's any longer.
So the story had been unwillingly repeated, quite a few parts left out, and
Lycelle was pretty sure that had been the first time that she'd ever seen the
Headmaster look stunned.

They hadn't been five minutes done with the recollection when
Narcissa and Silana had burst through theo, do, dirty and covered in scrapes
and bruises, and they'd nearly given them all heart attacks. They'd each been
clutching an amulet tightly, and Lycelle had been reminded of the last time
they'd come in looking so frightened and angry, except they hadn't been in such
a state of disrepair. They'd mumbled something about South America, a cave in, and
malfunctioning International Apparation points, before they'd demanded to see
their sons. And so the story had been told yet again, and it had been horrific
to see the proud women lose all control and sob openly.

Narcissa had been taken to Bella's side after a while, and she had
not moved since except once, her hand wrapped around her sister's in a death
grip. The only thing that she had requested was for Sirius to come, and
Severus, for once, hadn't argued or even made a snide comment. Mira had stayed
with Silana, and Armynel and Sirius had arrived at the same time. No one had
really spoken, only the smallest flickerings of hope in their hearts. Isisian
Charms were never supposed to fail; they all knew that. But did that count when
your adversary was a god? And which god had it been that had been able to trap
Cocidius and take Draco and Blaise?

So many questions, and no answers. Anton had healed the fastest,
and he stayed at Pansy's side constantly, curled up beside her with his arms
placed around carecarefully, so as not to cause her mangled body more pain. Virginia's magick had helped,
but the girl wasn't up to her usual levels. Every hour that passed without her
lovers coming through the entrance weakened her a little bit more. Not a single
word had escaped her lips nor a single emotion crossed her face as she'd moved
mechanically from Pansy to Daphne to Bella and back again, trading out with
Padma and the twins. And then, a day and a half since Draco and Blaise had been
taken, it had happened.

Later, Lycelle had found out that the crate had been allowed into
the castle since wealthier students routinely had furniture and such shipped
from back home or from some store or another, and it had passed all of the
security checks. Had the professor who had done the checking known what was
inside, it never would have made it to the dungeons. But they hadn't, they'd
only known that it wasn't dangerous and had sent it own.own. Gregory had been
the one to answer the knocking from outside, and he'd let them carry in the
crate with a puzzled expression. Most of the House had been in the common room
at the time, and Severus had been the one to open it.

Vincent actually fainting should have been her first clue, but she
hadn't known anything was seriously wrong until Severus had turned green and
demanded that everyone get back. They hadn't listened, of course, and Mira had
been the next to get a look inside. She'd screamed immediately, a small hand
slamming over her mouth seconds later as she'd stumbled backwards as if she'd
been struck. Lycelle had jumped up, curiosity overcoming her, and wished that
she'd known then what she would see. She would have stayed in her seat, to say
the least. Someone had yelled for somebody to restrain Virginia, who'd become
animate again at Mira's scream.

On leaden feet, Lycelle had reached the crate, her dread growing
with every step. Closing her eyes once she'd reached it, she'd taken several
deep breaths before forcing herself to look, and she had instantly regretted
it. Draco and Blaise had laid side by side, their hair tangled and matted with
dark blood and their bodies covered in it. Burns had wrapped around them from
head to foot, their robes melted into the open wounds, and their open eyes had
told it all. 'Dead', those sightless
eyes had screamed, 'dead!' Fighting a
wave of nausea, she'd shuffled back and nearly fallen over in her attempt to
get away. Then an animalistic shriek had cut through her haze.

Virginia had fought her way to
the crate, had seen what it held, and the last of her sanity had fled with her
hope. Lycelle had thought the girl had sounded destroyed the first time in the
circles, but she'd been wrong. The sheer soul-pain in that heart-wrenching cry
had held more agony than someone could possibly survive. It was dark and fierce
and desperate, and Lycelle's tears had been ripped from her in a torrent as
she'd watched Virginia come completely
undone. Scream after tormented scream had poured from her as she'd crumpled to
the ground like a rapidly withering flower that knew there would not be another
spring.

She'd scared the fuck out of them all then, as one of the swords
she'd used that day on the Quidditch pitch had appeared in her hand, and had
George not been right next to her, her blow would have struck true and pierced
her heart. Instead, it had been knocked to the side not a second too soon and
impaled her shoulder. She had not even seemed to notice the pain, had just
yanked it back out and spun towards her brother. Fred cod come up behind her
and sned ted the blade a moment later, and she had seemed to switch plans, placing
her hands on her chest as she'd begun turning her magic against herself.

Pandemonium had ensued for a good minute before Padma and Severus
had finally got everyone to shut up, and Padma had called in that odd,
disquieting book that they'd used to make the circles. Laying the book on her
lap, she'd put her hands over it and closed her eyes. The pages had started
fluttering, slowly and then faster and faster, before falling still. Her eyes
had scanned the page quickly, and her face had become grave. Moving to Virginia's side, she'd managed
to pry one of the other girl's hands from her chest, but was unable to dislodge
the other. Nodding briskly, a new purpose shining in her dark eyes, she'd stood
and told them what had been needed.

"She's killing herself." She'd stated, confirming what
they'd suspected. "But we can stop it."

"How?" The twins had asked, their expressions completely
miserable.

:p>

"There's a spell we can do." She'd explained. "It
will bind her and stop the flow, but�"

"But what?" They'd asked, their faces becoming grim at
her downtrodden look.

"We need virgin blood again." She'd finally replied, and
Sebastian had sneered.

"Then we'll go get some more." He'd said, his tone
making it clear that he would do whatever was necessary to get said blood. But
Padma had shaken her head.

"It's not just that." She'd told them, her eyes running
over her dying friend. "It's going to require the blood of two virgins,
nearly all of it, and a piece of their spirit as well." Silence had
reigned after those words, interrupted only by Narcissa and Silana's quiet
crying as they'd rocked their sons in their arms, sitting inside the crate that
they'd forced their way to.

"I take it they have to do it willingly?" George had
asked, and Lycelle hadn't liked the look in his eyes at all.

"Yes." Padma had responded, meeting those disturbing
eyes with an ease that Lycelle knew she would never possess. "I will be
one of them, but we still need another." George and Fred had exchanged
looks before leaning over and brushing their sister's limp hair from her face,
which had been starting to sweat as her body heat had risen.

"We failed them, sister. Them and you." They'd
whispered, and the pain in their voices had caused even more tears to stream
down Lycelle's face. "But we will not fail in this." Rising, they had
looked at the Slytherins around them before smirking, and she'd liked that even
less than the looks in their eyes. "Isn't your House owed a debt?"
They'd asked, and Melody, who'd only been away from Daphne's side to get more
salve but had frozen when she'd seen her friends, had been the one to answer
them.

"Yes. By that girl who turned on your sister."

"Lauren." The twins had said, the name rolling from
their lips like a curse.

"Come on." Sebastian had intoned viciously, Marcello at
his side. "Let's go get that little bitch. It's time for her to learn just
how unpleasant the prices for our favors are."

The four of them had been gone less than twenty minutes, but it
had felt like an eternity, especially as they'd watched Virginia's condition worsen by
the second. Melody had disappeared back into Severus's rooms, and Anton had
come out for the first time a few seconds later, his eyes frantic. She'd
apparently told him what had happened, and he'd gone straight to the crate.
When he'd seen Narcissa and Silana, when he'd seen his best friends, Lycelle
had been able to do nothing as she'd watched a part of him die. Moving as if in
a dream, he'd gone to their side with none of his usual grace, his movements
short and stilted.

He'd done nothing for several long moments, before the first,
glassy tears had streaked down his face from hazel eyes that still held specks
of black. Then, without the slightest bit of repulsion, he'd leaned down and
brushed his lips over their charred ones before pulling back and bolting from
the room without so much as a word. The rest of the House hadn't said anything
either, most too stunned to speak and others simply refusing to, before the
entrance had opened again and the twins, Sebastian and Marcello had drug a
struggling Lauren inside. If she hadn't been needed, the first words out of her
mouth would have gotten her killed by a Slytherin mob.

"I don't care! I'm not helping that fucking whore and I don't
give a shit what kind of trouble she's gotten herself into! I�" She'd been
cut off when Mira had appeared like a furious whirlwind, snatching the girl
from the others and slamming her into a wall. A clawed hand had stayed wrapped
around her throat, her feet dangling off of the ground, and Mira's eyes had
been burning veela red.

"You will do as you're bid, little witch, or I will spill
your innards all over the floor and play in them." She'd hissed, and fear
had settled heavily in Lauren's gaze. "You are bound by your oath, and we
are ready to collect on it. I can assure you that a sal sal will result in a
most slow and nasty death."

"Umag ugg." Lauren had choked out, her face turning
purple with lack of oxygen. Mira had smiled, a scary, unsettling smile, before
tossing the girl at Padma's feet.

The spell had worked, and Lauren hadn't said anything once her
eyes had landed on Virginia. Lycelle swore that
she had seen regret and sadness there, but she didn't really care if she had or
not. The girl was a fucking cunt, and no amount of remorse would change that.
When Virginia had come back to
awareness and realized what had been done, she'd completely freaked out. The
common room had been mostly destroyed, and everyone had run for cover but for
the twins, Padma, Narcissa and Silana. She hadn't used magic, as she couldn't
because of the binding, but she hadn't needed it to vent her rage and
heartbreak.

But then, after she had spent what little was left of her strength,
she'd started raving, talking to shadows and chairs and herself, and they'd
been helpless to stop her mental erosion. But they'd had to do something when
she'd attacked anyone who came back inside the common room. No one had been
able to really blame her though, seeing as how the nameless voices had taken on
names after a while, and she'd rambled nonsense to her dead boyfriends as if
they were right beside her, alive and whole. With tears in their eyes, Padma
and the twins had overpowered her and locked her in her room, shielding it for
hours to ensure that she couldn't escape.

That weird book had been brought out agin oin order to do it, and
the twins had lost their drive afterwards, sinking to the floor on either side
of the vampire portrait and burying their faces in their arms. Lycelle had
dared to hope, then, that the worst had passed. She'd been wrong. Sitting
beside her sister's bed a day later, she'd been surprised when Pansy's hand had
tightened around her own. Anton had been out, finally forced to take a sleeping
draught, but Pansy's eyes had been open and latched onto her. A smile had
bloomed across her face, as her sister had woken a few times in the last couple
days but never when she was there.

"Hey there." She'd said softly, running her thumb
lightly along Pansy's scarred hand. Her sister's eyes flicked to Anton as if to
reassure herself that he hadn't disappeared, before returning to Lycelle. She'd
removed her hand from her sister's and placed it on thigthigh before tracing
out words that had Lycelle shrinking back.

'Where are Draco and Blaise?
No one will tell me.'

Her brain stalling, Lycelle had desperately wondered what she was
supposed to say to that. It would be folly to tell the truth, and she had no
idea what kind of lie to fabricate. But her silence and terrified eyes had been
enough of a response for Pansy, and Lycelle cursed herself for not having a
typical Slytherin's emotional control, cursed herself for not always having a
mask ready to slide into place. Her sister had started struggling to rise,
looking absolutely horrified, and it had shaken Anton from his slumber. He'd
put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her gently back down, but she wouldn't
have any of it.

"What did you say to her?" Anton had asked, the slightest
hint of accusation in his voice as his haunted eyes had met hers.

lasslass=MsoNormal>"N-Nothing." Lycelle had stammered, trying to help him
get Pansy calm.

But her sister's finger had flown over Anton's flesh, and he'd
stopped abruptly, staring at nothing. That had been too much, and Pansy had
screamed before vaulting out of the bed with much more speed than someone as
hurt as she was should have been able to manage. Draco and Blaise had,
thankfully, been moved from the common room, and Pansy's next question when they'd
caught her had been about Virginia. Against everyone's
wishes, she'd demanded to see the girl, and had only been given the okay after
promising not to move again afterwards until she was healed. Padma had gone in
with her, and they'd stayed inside for almost an hour.

cla class=MsoNormal>

Neither had been the same when they had emerged, and their grief
was tangible, thick and throbbing in the air around them. Pansy had blamed
herself, and had looked as if she hadn't really been able to believe that two
of her best friends were gone, the other mad. It had taken hours to get Pansy
back to sleep, and only now did Lycelle take the time herself to try and rest.
Gods, even her hair hurt. She heard
someone coming up behind her, and didn't object when Marcello started kneading
the aching muscles in her neck and shoulders. It wasn't until he leaned over,
one darkly tanned finger brushing a sparkling tear from her cheek, that she
realized she was crying again.

��..

Umethi flew silently through the Forbidden Forest, every sense on guard
and waiting for danger. He and his kindred had been ordered to stay behind and
watch over their masters' flame-haired princess, and they continued to do so
even as their grief ate at their insides. They knew they would fade from it
sooner or later, as the masters had left behind no heirs, and they each
believed they deserved that final death. They should not have listened to them
that last time, they should have fought harder against their binds. And they
would have had they known that a god had turned traitor. They could feel the
ripples of the betrayal running through the ether. /p>

Umethi sighed for the first time in centuries. How had it come to
this? How had their masters' fates been shortened and stalled so cruelly? He
did not know, and he had the strangest desire to go�somewhere. He could not
tell where, though, and it worried him as few things did. He was making his
fifth circle over the forest when the vision took him and he fell from the sky.
He distinctly felt the barest touch of the Lady, farther away then he'd ever
known Her to go, before he was standing in a hallway, watching as his masters
shoved their friends through the portal that they had spent hours creating to
get them out of Nor Gorgun.

He could do nothing but watch and seethe as the divine form of
Dagda swept towards them. It was a god he would know anywhere, in any shape or
form. He watched as his masters faced their deaths, watched as they were taken,
and then he was swirling through darkness again until it evened out and he saw�the ocean. That was where he wanted to
go so badly. He knew why when the scene unfolded before him. He was standing by
the waves where they hit the shore, and a low stone labyrinth stretched out in
front of him. He recognized it, and seconds later, Dagda appeared with his
masters in hand, His glowing face lit with triumph.

The twisted god threw their bodies down carelessly, and Umethi
started when he saw that they were still breathing. So He hadn't killed them
immediately then. They were burned horribly from the trip in Dagda's hands, but
they were alive. When Dagda made to finish them off, though, he realized that
they wouldn't be for long. But then�Dagda couldn't do it. Oh, He tried, but
shields like moonlight deflected all of his killing shots of power, and Umethi
felt the telltale glimmer in the magick. Hope soared within him for the first
time in days. The Isisian Charm, he
thought wildly, his heart beating rapidly for the first time in�in a very long
time.

Dagda roared, and two hooded figures raced outthe the labyrinth,
debasing themselves before the god instantly until they were told to rise.
Dagda gave them instructions after a space of thoughtful silence, and Umethi's
rage grew as he watched the lackeys pluck a handful of hair from each of his
masters' heads. Dagda started laughing, and a low table appeared on the sand,
two writhing wizards strapped to it like offerings. Which they probably were.
They died quickly, not even having time to really scream, and a wave of Dagda's
hand had two cauldrons coming into view on the table. The hairs were placed
inside them, and the potions forced down dead throats.

"Have these delivered." The god told His followers, and
they nodded as the bodies on the table morphed into exact replicas of Umethi's
masters. "Unlike Polyjuice, this will not wear off. Take them to the girl.
I'll take care of these two."

The men unchained the bodies, and off they went with them back
into the labyrinth. Dagda turned considering eyes on the two Elementals at His
feet, before His hand waved again and twin davascian coffins appeared next to
them. He didn't even bother opening them, just sent their bodies straight
through the coffin's lids. Heavy chains of davasca began wrapping around them, and
Umethi was sure that more of the same was constraining his masters inside.
Dagda pulled back and admired His work a f a few seconds, before He threw
glowing shields around it all.

Then He was shooting into the air with both coffins in hand, and
Umethi followed, flight coming as easy in the vision as it did in reality. They
sped out over the waves, clouds parting before Dagda as courtiers would, and
Umethi wished that Dagda had not been so careful. If the air had been able to
sense Blaise, it would have turned against the foul god. But davasca severed
all ties when it was made into such a complete prison, and the wind knew not
that its beloved was being stolen. Finally, Dagda began to slow, and He shot
back down and towards the blue water, which sparkled like a million crystalline
tears in the moonlight.

He did not stop above the waves but sliced past them, and Umethi
stayed right on His heels as they dove and dove. He did not pay attention to
the animal life around him, but he did pay attention to the ocean's permanent
landmarks, cataloguing them inside his mind. But still they dove, until all
light had been extinguished except for the occasional luminescent sea creature.
After another stretch of endless descent, the ocean floor finally stopped its steep
sloping and leveled out, and Dagda chained the coffins to a huge metal rod that
had certainly not grown there naturally.

As the silt settled around them again, he could see rusty scraps
of other chains attached to it, and wondered how many times Dagda had used this
place. Then everything flipped and spun, and he was falling through the thick
branches of the trees outside Hogwarts, seconds from hitting the ground.
Pulling back at the last second and shooting back up, he ignored the calls of
his kindred and sped for the castle, calling in the items he thought he would
need. He knew what had to be done. They could not go after their masters
themselves, the binds still held too strong, but he knew one who could. They
would stay and watch over the princess. They could see beneath the skin; they
knew her worth.

But the other�It was time for the other to break down destiny's
door and see if she could change the dreary future for them all.

��

Padma had never been so tired in her life. She didn't even know
you could be as worn out as she was.
She knew that she needed some rest desperately, but her thoughts were still in
turmoil, and she couldn't stop, couldn't relax. She felt a tug on her mind but
ignored it, forcing Anton into taking a restorative potion and threatening to
simply knock him unconscious and give it to him herself if he didn't. He needed
replenishment as much as anyone considering how much his unleashing had
weakened him, and the fact that he hadn't eaten anything in three days. He
finally relented and swallowed it before sinking back down beside Pansy once
more.

Moving on to Melody, she gave the same threat and watched as the
girl downed another vial of the potion. Taking it back from her, she went to put
it up and fought off the blackness that was creeping into her vision and trying
to overwhelm her. She felt the weird tug again, but pushed it away and started
bottling more of the potions. Her hands were aching, practically begging for
her to stop, but she didn't. Couldn't. Daphne made a strangled noise, and Padma
stumbled over to her, ignoring Anton's accusing look. He knew how tired she
was, and had been on her case for hours to sleep, calling her everything from
stubborn to a hypocrite.

Daphne's body was healing nicely, the lesser scars already
beginning to fade, but her mind was another matter altogether. She still hadn't
slipped out of the strange trance that she was in, and the only people who'd
been able to touch her without her flinching away and whimpering were Padma, Virginia and Melody. But Virginia was in no condition
to help anyone now, and Melody wasn't a healer. That left Padma, and she was
determined to help the girl as much as she could. Soothing her with a calming
touch and gentle hands, Padma waited until she was sleeping peacefully again
before sitting back. That tug pulled again, and in her weariness, she followed
it.

'Earth-child! You must come!'
A voice like music sounded inside her head, and she gasped, a hand going to her
temple.

'Who are you?' She
asked, worried that she was traipsing after Virginia into lunacy.

'Umethi. Now come!' The voice replied,
and she wondered what one of the Ezut��l could possibly want with her.

Knowing that he wouldn't have summoned her for nothing, she made
her way out of Slytherin mostly unnoticed since everyone was sleeping; even the
twins were after she'd made them take sleeping draughts. She stuck to the
shadows as she made her way to the nearest exit, and no one noted her passage.
Sliding through a door on the first floor, the cold air hit her face and she
cursed the fact that she had forgotten her cloak. And now there was no Draco to
call on and�Choking back yet another sob, she morosely thought that there had
probably been more tears spilled in Slytherin the last few days then ever
before.

'Over here, young one.'
That voice called again, the tug leading her west and towards the boat dock.

She almost lost her balance several times as she navigated the
slippery stone steps that led down to it, and it made her finally acknowledge
just how sapped of strength she was. She opened the door slowly when she
finally got there, and smelt the different polishes and fish remains that
Hagrid had left lying about. Three boats were docked inside, but she couldn't
see or smell anything else. Then one of the shadows melted away from the wall,
and the guard approached her as the door shut with a soft 'click' that echoed
through the stone room. Had she not known better, she probably would have
thought he was a Dementor even without the snaking cold.

"Umethi." She said by way of greeting, inclining her
head respectfully. He did the same, his hooscurscuring his face, as always.
"Where are your kindred?"

"Around, my lady." He replied with a voice like a silk
covered dagger. "Would you do anything to bring them back?" He asked,
getting right to the point. He didn't to to say who he meant.

"Of course." She responded automatically, before his
question sunk in. "Wait, what are you talking about? We already got them
back, thanks to that bloody charm."

"No, you didn't." He said simply, and she felt as if
she'd just been thrown into a pool of ice water, every sense becoming sharp and
focused for the first time in over a day and a half.

"What? Of course we
did, they're�"

"Those are not their bodies."

Can your entire world be rebuilt in an instant? She knew that it
could break that quickly, but could five small words really cause the surge of
strength and hope wither ter that she felt spiraling out from her core? Could
they really cause her head to feel light and her fingers to tingle? Could they
make her see a different path than the one that she'd been sure she would be
walking only moments ago? Couhey?hey? She thought so, since she could find no
other explanation for those things. Looking into that shadowed hood and wishing
she could see his face, she did know one thing for sure. She was going to kill
him if he was lying to her.

>&nb> "They're not dead?" She asked in a tiny whisper that no
mortal ear could have heard, and she received a single nod accompanied by a
shrug.

"No. I don't believe they aNot Not yet, anyway. But they
don't have long."

"How do you know this?" She questioned breathlessly, the
thought of her friends alive making her feel as if she were floating.

"A vision from the Lady."

"But She is unreachable!" Padmotesotested, as her link
to the Lady had stretched into nearly nothing when She had submerged herself
days ago. Padma had tried to reach Her countless times and failed.

"Yes." Umethi agreed with another nod. "I can only
assume that She had a vision of Her own and sente toe to me."

"Where are they? How can I help them? How much time do they
have?" The inquiries poured from her in a rush, and she felt as if a clock
somewhere had just started ticking, making her nervous and edgy, ready to do something.

"Here." He said, a bundle appearing in his hands. He
unwrapped the thick, black velvet and told her what each of the items inside
were for. "This," he explained, holding up a green glass vial,
"will give you your energy back for exactly one hour. Do not take it until
it is necessary. This," that time a dagger was held up, made of a metal
she'd never seen before, "was forged by Hephaestus Himself, and will cut
through davasca as even the masters' blades cannot. It is the only weapon made
by His hands that has not been destroyed. And this," the last object was
held up, a gray stone the size of her palm, "will portkey you back here
once you get out of the wards."

"What wards? Where am I going?" She asked, taking the
vial, the dagger and the stone from him.

He explained more about his vision, told her of the beach and the
sunken coffins, as he walked her to the property's boundaries. The velvet
bundle had turned out to be a cloak the twin of his, and they'd had to shorten
the hem almost a foot for her to be able to walk in it without tripping. Padma
had never felt such fury as she did while listening to him speak. He told her
the truth of the god that had taken them, and she had been shocked to her core
when Dagda's name had spilled from his lips. The All-Father had turned rotten?
The Good God, the leader of the Tuatha D� Danann, had taken Voldemort's side in
the war? Impossible. But yet it was,
and it changed everything.

"Here." Umethi said once they'd reached the end of the
castle's wards, and he started to unsheathe one of his swords.

"No." She said, ae pae paused. "That's not
necessary. Cocidius gifted me with my own at my Marking." The guard tilted
his head in what she assumed was a thoughtful fashion.

"So all four sets are in this Realm once more." He
commented, and as it wasn't a question, she said nothing. "Interesting.
Well, are you ready?"

"Yes." She said, stepping outside the wards.

He reached through them, holding out another flat stone. She
touched it and felt the invisible hook sink into her stomach, yanking her
forward. Seconds passed, feeling like an age, before she was deposited on grainy,
wispy grass, salty air settling on her tongue and in her throat. Looking up and
reorienting herself, she could just make out the labyrinth Umethi had spoken
of. Making sure she still had everything that she needed, she started out on
what ended up being a two-hour hike though rocky, pit-ridden terrain that had
her cursing and nearly in tears again by the time it was over. Her body hurt so
badly, and she couldn't think properly at all.

She had learned what had happened from bits and pieces of their
conversations, and had seen all that had transpired from her hiding place.
Thinking her pain couldn't become any worse, she'd been proven wrong when the
two Slytherins' bodies had been brought to the dungeons in a crate. She
remembered nothing for a long time after that. When she'd finally come back to
reality, Lauren had been laying half-dead on the floor beside Padma, and Virginia had been destroying
everything in sight. Hermione had been spared the brunt of it, but she'd still
been stabbed in the leg with a long splinter from a broken sofa.

She'd only left her spot to sneak a glass of water and to use the
bathroom, and now, starving and thirsty and miserable, she knew that she had to
move. Her throat was killing her, and her stomach felt as if it were eating
itself. But she felt no real desire to get up, or, more likely, crawl. She
could see no real reason for it. Knowing that those silver eyes would never
light up again had squashed something within her brutally. Scores of things
that she hadn't let herself admit had come to the forefront, no longer
ignorable, and she felt as if her heart was being sucked out of her chest.
Suddenly, she had the strongest urge to get out, and she looked around, seeing
everyone asleep.

Had the Slytherins been slumbering normally, they would have
awoken as soon as she started her slow drag across the floor, but they were not
slumbering normally. Every throat had had a sleeping draught poured down it,
and she made it to the exit when she realized that she didn't know how to get
out. Cursing, she nearly had a stroke when a hand landed on her shoulder.
Looking up into the bone-tired face of her only friend, she watched numbly as
Lycelle opened the wall for her without a word in her direction. The girl
nodded before going back to her chair and falling into it bonelessly, and
Hermione was gone a few moments later.

Not really knowing where she was going, she used the wall to keep
herself upright. She twisted through what had to have been a least a million
corridors, and it came as quite a surprise when she felt freezing air brush her
face and hands, blowing her hair back and littering it with snow. Tears
springing to her eyes again, she marveled at the fact that there was even
enough moisture left in her for them. Her feet led her towards the gardens, and
she was shivering and blue by the time she reached them. Going to the back
section, she sat on one of the icy stone benches and wondered what in the hell
she was doing out there.

'Come to me.'

Oh lord. Oh sweet fucking lord. She was cracking up. Was that a voice inside her head?

'Come to me. I will give you
the power to save them and have the one you desire.'

Laughing shrilly, she stood quickly and started to leave,
thoroughly freaked out. This is not
happening, she told herself, and nearly passed out when the voice answered
her as if she'd spoken aloud.

'Oh, but it is. Do you want
to save them or not?'

Deciding that she'd gone nutters, she figured 'why the
hell not?' and answered back.

'Save who?'

'Why, your love and his, of
course.'

'Nearly. But you�you're
strong enough to save them. I'm sure of it.'

'Who are you?'

'A friend. I've known your
silver prince for quite a while. I just wish to�help.'

'I�' She trailed off,
something about all of this feeling wrong, but a second later, everything
seemed quite surreal. And happy. 'Okay.'
She found herself responding.

'So you will come? Come to
save the one that you love?'

'Yes.' She said, after
thoughts of silver hair and mercury eyes assaulted her brain. 'Yes, I will come.'

'Excellent.' The voice
intoned, for the briefest moment sounding like a serpent. 'We will do great things�good
things, you and I. They will praise you for your actions, respect you like
you wish for them to do. I will give all of that to you.'

'What do I do?' She
asked, her thoughts a confused, enraptured jumble inside her head.

'Look under the bench, take
the quill.'

Dropping to her knees in the snow, Hermione wondered many things.
Like why snow had to be so cold in the first place, and why such a pretty voice
had picked her of all people to talk
to. She was nothing too special after
all, but the pretty voice was going to help her become special. It would help
her become beautiful and desired, would help her become what she'd realized, in
the last few weeks, that she wished to be. Slytherin.
The word whipped through her, bringing a smile to her lips as she spotted the
worn-out quill. She reached for it reverently, knowing in a muddled way that it
held the answer to all of her dreams, and her last thought as her fingers
closed around it was base, drug up from the bottom of her soul.

'Draco Malfoy will be mine.'

��..

"I've got a lovely
bunch of coconuts, diddily dee�"

'SMASH'!

"There they were all
standing in a row, ho, ho, ho�"

'SMASH'!

"Big ones, small ones,
some as big as your head�"

'SMASH'!

That was was getting boring, Virginia concluded, and let
the next vase fall to the floor. She couldn't remember any more Disney songs
anyway. Walt Disney had been her absolute favorite wizard when she'd been
growing up, and she'd watched all of his movie crystals religiously. Tinklilauglaughter sounded to her left, and she spun, the shadows moving with her. It was
like a cat chasing its tail. She could hear them, catch the barest glimpses,
but she couldn't quite see them before they slid behind her again. She supposed
that it was comforting, in a way. Better than being alone. Better than throwing
everything breakable that she could find.

It was aggravating though. She wanted to see them, not play more
games. Stomping her foot angrily, she informed them if they didn't quit, she
wouldn't talk to them anymore. More delighted laughter was her only answer, and
she growled. Stupid boys, she thought
ruefully, and plopped down on the bed. Music sounded behind her, a piano, but
she refused to give them the pleasure of a smile, even though she loved when
they played. She had heard them do a duet for the first time at the Manor, and
had been thrilled. Bartolomeo Cristofori, the inventor of the instrument, had
been a wizard, so they had deemed it worthy of learning to play.

Unable to suppress a giggle, she turned again tll tll them that it
was beautiful, only to have everything shift again. The music still coming from
behind her, she gave up and fell back against the pillows. As soon as she
closed her eyes, she heard one strand of the music die away as feather-light
fingers brushed over her skin, icy cold. Shivering in pleasure, she kept her
eyes closed, knowing that he would disappear again were she to open them. They
trailed over her stomach and up between her breasts, traced the rune of
devotion over her heart, before moving to her throat and then starting all over
again. Then they were gone.

The second strand of the music started again as the first fell
away into nothing, and she dared not so much as breathe until charged
fingertips brushed over her lips. Stifling a moan, she wished it would never
stop, that she never had to leave this nice place that she had built inside
herself. She wasn't completely unaware of the fact that she had lost her mind.
But it was distant, like a memory trapped in a clear glass globe just out of
her reach, but not utterly out of her perception. Phantom lips met hers, and
she wondered if she really was imaging them. Maybe not. Maybe their ghosts had
come back to haunt her until she joined them.

Then those lips were gone as well, and the eerie, soothing notes
were made by four separate hands instead of two once more. Gods, how she wished
that she could join them. How she wished she could pick up the broken pieces of
one of the vases and slice her wrists open to the bone. Damn Padma. Damn her a
thousand times over for binding her! She couldn't reach her magic, and couldn't
even harm herself with material things. Apparently, they'd all just rather her
waste away slowly locked in this room that smelled so strongly of her lovers.
Apparently, they wanted her death to be a drawn-out affair, dramatic enough to
be positively tragic.

Sighing and twirling a long, faded lock of what had been blood-red
hair around her finger, she wondered what they would all say if she cut it all
off. Then she wondered if she might be able to hang herself with it. It was
certainly long enough. Dismissing the idea, as she was sure that the binding
would thwart that effort too, she let the hair fall from her fingers as she
started to hum the theme to another Disney movie, laughing when she heard them
start humming it with her, their fingers having stopped their rhythmic tapping
of the keys. She spun again, trying to catch sight of them, and her laughter
stopped at once when she did move
fast enough that time.

They were dead, dead, dead. Nothing more than ghastly skeletons
clothed in their robes, crowned with their hair. Falling off the bed and
landing in an ungainly crouch, she couldn't rip her eyes away as memories
flooded back to her. Finding out she was Voldemort's Key, Pansy and Daphne
being stolen from them, the rage, the death, the wait, the mission, the
failure, the grief, the denial, the delivery, the death of her soul, the rage,
the mourning�She screamed, scratching at her eyes, trying to make the flow of
images stop their vehement assault. Gone!
Her mind shrieked. Taken and stolen and
GONE! Gone, gone, gone�

"Stop!"

And they did. The images finally ceased, and a strange calm
infused her from head to foot, the first bit of lucidity that she'd felt in
forever. Everything seemed to become stunningly clear. She could break free.
Break free and end her pain and loneliness. But first, she had things to settle
with the Dark Lord. She would probably die fighting him, but she'd be damned if
she didn't take him with her. Standing on steady feet, she made her way
purposefully to the room's vault. Stopping at the fire pit, she thanked the
gods for small favors, since the self-cleaning spells had cleared away the ashes
of the last fire, leaving the marble clean and spotless.

Whispered words in a tongue long lost to history had the stone
disintegrating, a hole opening up in its place. A twisting stairway led down,
and she took the steps three at a time, her mind racing and clouding with
renewed fury. She reached the bottom soon enough, cloying music reaching her
ears once again. She was glad that she could see in the dark, since she did not
yet have her magic back, and therefore couldn't light the torches of summon a ball
of witchlight. The hidden room was an arsenal. Stocked from floor to ceiling
with magickal weapons, everything in it was deadly, from the more normal to the
extreme.

A paralyzing dagger went in one boot, another that stole the
victim's sight into the other, and she grabbed two identical ones that she
recalled had a mean tendency to burrow into a body until they found and severed
the spinal cord. They had adjustable wrist sheathes that she slid on without
looking, as she didn't want to see the dead Mark on her arm. How many times had
she screamed for Cocidius when they had first locked her away? The agony of
separation from him was almost as difficult to breathe around as it was for her
lovers. She felt like she was choking, but she pushed it back and grabbed a
strand of small, explosive charms.

Her robe and pants hit the floor carelessly, she would need to
change clothes anyway, and she buckled the charms on. They were in a black
leather harness that strapped to her thigh, and were easily removable if you
had trained fingers. Which she did. They had taken her through this room
countless times, teaching her what each weapon did and how to use them,
practicing with her until it wagraigrained into her mind. Orbs that would
release a thick layer of poisoned gas slid easily into a harness much like the
other, and she strapped those to her other thigh, walking in an experimental
circle to make sure that her movement wasn't impai

Ripping off her shirt, another harness slid on, that one almost
like a corset, and it stretched from the bottoms of her breasts to her hips.
Across the abdomen and back were horizontal, built-in sheathes, and slim
throwing knives with essence of shadowleaf made into the blades slid home
smoothly. There were twelve all together, six in the front and six in the back,
and they seemed to pull at her, as if they had minds of their own and wished
for the slaughter. Maybe they did. Two more harnesses were grabbed off of a
shelf to her right, and they attached to the top of the wrist sheathes by a
series of small clasps.

They were lined with the same tiny, poisoned darts her lovers had
taken so many of the other night, and again, they slid out easily at a knowing
touch. She considered taking one of the slender blowguns, but knew that it wasn't
really necessary. She could throw them just fine. She couldn't call in her
swords just yet, but she would soon enough, and she knew that there was only
one more thing that she needed before she went back up, changed, and broke free
of her bonds. She needed the one thing that she knew could kill the Dark Lord
if she could get close enough to use it. Going to the far wall, she stood
before the only bare spot in the room and spoke another password.

A hole opened up, revealing their most prized possessions that had
come to the school with them. But she was not concerned with anything but the
slender tube of crystal sitting on a pillow of silk. It was precious to them,
and would heal them if they touched it, but to an enemy of theirs, it was the
most deadly substance in any Realm. The Dark Lord did not have his full power,
and to get it he needed her. Well, she would go to him as he wished for her to.
But no matter the cost, he would not leave alive. He was still weak, still
vulnerable. He could still be killed, and she�Well, she held the blood and
tears of Cocidius in her hand. Looking up, she knew it was then or never.

They thought they could hold her? They were about to find out why
her lovers called her their sun. Oh yes, it was time for Virginia Weasley to
show her worth. She would have her pound of flesh.

��..

Well, there you go! Another chappie! PLEASE REVIEW!!!!

(Hephaestus � Greek God of the Forge and Fire)
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