Isis stretched leisurely as one of her lions got into another
squall with one of Sebek's crocodiles, a fond smile
crossing her lips. Those two were always bickering. A roar and a hiss later,
they'd both fallen headfirst into the in> in the flesh every
few years, even though she hated seeing what most of the people had been turned
into. But fate flowed like that, and she knew that it
would all be righted soon enough. Soon enough to her, anyway.

She knew that her people would sing and worship openly in the
streets again; she had Seen it long ago when she'd let
Cleopatra place that serpent to her breast. She could smell change on the wind,
change for all, god and mortal alike. But what
kind of change she didn't know, and the Lady was not answering her calls for
the first time since the last of the Firsrn hrn had been called to Pass. It worried her, but not overly much. Not until she
felt a pull that she hadn't felt since the fall of Rome. One of her charms
had just been activated, the frantic wish slamming into her consciousness like
a thousand sharp knives.

Abandoning the Shadow Realm instantly, she relaxed once she was
back within the Dark Court's Hall. The agony receded, and she was able to
examine the situation. To say that she was shocked when she discovered who
asked for an age-old form of aid was quite an understatement. Why in Chaos
would Cocidius's Chosen need her
help? Cocidius matched her in power, was probably even stronger, truth be told, but…No. No,
no, no. Scanning the ripples of the flame-haired princess's emotions
revealed more than could be possible. No one would dare…Turning her attention away, she seeked
out the missing two.

There, she thought, finding
the quivering wisps of their passage in the ether. They were in the Light
Realm! What in the Seven Hells was going on? Where was Cocidius? Reaching out
for him with long familiarity, she nearly lost her link to his Chosen when she
felt…nothing. For the first time since the Dawn of the World, Isis, Queen
Goddess of Magick and Life, felt fear. Then his Chosen were being moved
again, back to the Shadow Realm, and she followed mentally. When the deity
holding them prisoner tried to kill them, she deflected the first blast out of
anger, not even thinking of the charm. And when that energy collided with hers,
she knew who it  

The small body of the White-throated Needletail
that she had selected was quite aerodynamic, and the shifter blood in her veins
guided her movements, making them smooth and graceful. She had never shifted
into a bird, only into different types of great cats so far, and it would have
been exhilarating had she not been so driven, one thing and one thing only
g atg at the forefront of her thoughts. Her sleek new form cut through the air
like a razor through foam, and she felt as if she were racing time itself. It
did not take as long as she'd thought to make it out fifteen leagues, but she
had only a moment to marvel at the bird's speed.

She couldn't knf shf she was exactly in the right spot yet, but
Umethi had said fifteen leagues and straight to the east, and that's where she
was, high in the clouds. Stilling her wings, she turned her beak downwards and
tucked them in tight, diving for the ocean surface far below her. As she neared
it, she knew that she only had one shifting option considering how deep she
needed to go according to Umethi. Focusing her concentra, sh, she would have
screamed had she been able, that transformation hurting much worse than the
other had. She felt herself become huge and bulky, felt her legs melt together
and her arms bend and reform.

And then she was slicing through the water, all of her senses
reeling as she became accustomed to those of a sperm whale. Her eyes became
useless, but the world that sonar opened up to her was
vast. She never ped ped her dive, sending her song out around her widening
circles and registering all that was sent back with more than a bit of wonder.
Umethi had outlined the permanent landmarks for her to seek out, and it was
remarkably easy. She was in the right spot after all, thank
the gods. As she went ever deeper, a giant squid tweaked the whale's instincts
and nearly distracted her from her course, but she fought it and continued
down, down, down.

It didn't seem that she would ever reach the bottom, and the
sloping walls of what she guessed was a ravine seemed
almost claustrophobic. She usually liked the feel of the earth all around her,
but her fear for her friends grew with every fluke-flip. Flashes of them swam
through her mind even as she swam for the ocean floor. Flashes of Draco
laughing at her and telling her to concentrate, that she could do any spell if
she'd just take her head out of the leaves for a minute; flashes of Blaise's
mocking grin as he'd taunted her into fighting harder during sword practice,
into giving her all and holding nothing back. And flashes of Virginia, happy
and safe and sane in their
arms.

Then, miracle of miracles, readings of the bottom finally reached
her. A new spurt of energy coursing through her, she swam ever harder,
frantically searching for the pole and the coffins. There! Just ahead and to the left, she finally found them, and
nearly released all of her air in relief. Swimming to the pole, she threw a
shield around herself so that the crushing pressure wouldn't kill her when she
shifted back to her human form, and so she could breathe. The transformation
was relatively painless compared to the last, and a ball of witchlight inside
her shield cast an eerie light over the two davascian
prisons, the sight of which made her heart pound.

Loosing the dagger from her belt, she moved closer, her shield
easily overcoming the weak, careless ones that Dagda had placed around them. He
obviously hadn't expected anyone to find them. His mistake. Wrapping one hand
in the thick chains attaching them to the pole, she ignored the searing pain
and brought the dagger down, putting all of her strength behind the blow. The
thin blade bit through the damnable metal, meeting resistance for a moment
before going all the way through. The chains sagged in her hand and she dropped
them, not paying attention to the ugly, blistering welts that had already
spread over her skin.

She'd only touched them for a second, but she could feel the loss
of power that second had caused her and cursed. No matter, she wouldn't have
been able to haul them back up and to the shore by those chains anyway. She had
only one real hope besides trying to Apparate them,
which would be risky at best. She couldn't use the portkey
that Umethi had given her yet, as the wards stretched out over this part of the
sea, so she did the only thing she knew to do, and hoped with everything in her
that it would work. Expanding her shield to include both coffins, she looked
back and forth between them, wishing she could see through the metal.

But she couldn't, so she brought the blade down again randomly, stabbing
it through the metal of the one on her right. Nothing. Damn it! All right, the other one then. That or she was going to
have to take her chances of splinching them. The
dagger sunk into the other coffin, and that time she knew it had worked immediately
as the water outside her shield began churning violently. She swore she could
hear it roaring in pure rage, but she didn't have time to ponder it before they
were shooting up and she was hanging onto the burning chains desperately,
trying not to be ill as they rocketed for the surface.

Just when she knew she couldn't hold on any longer, when she was
sure that she was about to be sucked away from them, they erupted past the top
layer of waves and into the salty air. Bobbing uselessly, her strength mostly
gone and eaten by the metal, she wondered if she would drown. But the water
seemed to be holding her up, and she glanced around, seeing the two coffins
floating next to her when they should have been sinking. Dropping her shield
and ripping off the cloak that quickly became soaked, she threw it over the
nearest one and leaned onto it, trying to figure out what in the hell to do
next. It's not like she'd had a load of time to plan
everything out.

Excited, chippery chattering broke
through her scheming, and she felt like sobbing in relief when her cheek was
bumped by the long snout of a dolphin. More chattering and energetic splashing
came from all around her, and she saw that the majority of them were swimming
around the coffin opposite her, which undoubtedly made it Draco's. The dolphin
next to her nudged one end of the chains before flipping around and waving its
fluke at her. It repeated the process and she realized that it wanted her to
tie the chains to them. Half of the pod lined up before the davascian boxes,
and she was glad that the chain was so long.

Using the cloak to save her hands any more damage, it took nearly
twenty minutes to get them all hooked up where they could still swim, and her
hour was long up, leaving her feeling completely wasted. The last of her energy
went to ripping the cloak into long pieces and fashioning them into a sort-of
harness, since she knew there was no way that she'd be able to hang onto the
dolphin's fin all the way back to the shore. They started out as soon as she'd
gotten situated, and their strength surprised her. They didn't seem to tire at
all, their pace staying steady and smooth, quick and easy. The cry of a gull
was the first thing that she was aware of again for a long time.

Looking up, she saw that there was a huge flock flying over them,
and several were lighted on the coffin right in front of her, slipping over its
surface due to the bumpy ride. Other birds were caught up in the flock as well,
as if all of the ones in the general vicinity had come, and she heard a faint
whistling that had her realizing the cause. The wind had found Blaise through
the hole she'd put in his coffin. A little more alert, she choked back a gasp
when she saw the number of fins surrounding them. Those are not all dolphins, she thought with a shiver. She hated
sharks. She hated fish in general, actually, but especially sharks.

Thankfully, the trip to the shore wasn't too much longer, and she
had no choice but to take a moment and commune with the earth when she hit the
sand. She had to drag the coffins onto the beach, and she needed strength. Five
valuable minutes ticked by before she could stand, and the dolphin waited as
patiently as it could while she removed the harness before spraying her
affectionately, bumping Draco's coffin again, and zooming off with the others.
It was like a finned and feathered escort that disbanded once it had made sure
that they'd made it to land. Shaking her head, she made temporary gloves out of
the soggy scraps of velvet.

She got the coffins out of the water, shooting paranoid glances
over her shoulder at the labyrinth behind her, praying that Dagda wouldn't show
up suddenly and try to finish what He'd started. She doubted it though, as He
had no reason to think that they would be found, and His wards weren't set to
alert Him to everyone that passed through them, since so many did, as Umethi
had explained. Taking out the dagger again, she started prying it under the
lids' seals until hisses of air signaled her success. She waited until both
were done before opening them, because if it was bad, she wanted to get it over
with all at once.

She lifted them ever-so-slowly, and the
sight that greeted her was so like the one that she'd been confronted with in
the common room that she nearly let the lids slam shut again. Taking a deep
breath, she forced herself to flip the tops all of the way off and onto the
sand. Their eyes were closed, not open, and they weren't breathing, not that she'd expected them to be after over a day and a half at the
bottom of the ocean. But they were vampires, and they didn't need to breathe to
survive. It was more like habit than anything else,
she supposed. But that didn't mean that they were alive, either. She didn't
have the heart to pry their eyelids open, so she improvised.

At any other time, she would have used herself, but she just
didn't have it in her. Casting her senses out, she searched the labyrinth to
see if any inside were still alive. Hmm…There
were four in an underground room playing cards, one
pacing back and forth to the north, and one…And one who was unlucky enough to
be asleep behind a sand dune not twenty yards from her. Calling the power of
the earth up through her feet with every step, she had the wizard in hand
moments later, a spell cutting off any screams he may have let loose. He looked
at her as if she were a demon, and she might as well
have been for all it mattered to him. His end would still be bloody.

Taking him back to the coffins, she knocked him unconscious to
stop his struggling instead of wasting more magic on a spell, and then slid in
between the boxes once more. Getting behind him on her knees so that his weight
fell against her chest, she stretched both of his arms out, holding his wrists
with her hands and guiding them until they hovered over her friends' mouths. A
simple shift was still simple, and her thumbnails grew into deadly points,
slicing through
ligaments and veins carelessly. Blood began flowing darkly from the deep
wounds, splattering in thick drops on their blackened lips, and she waited with
baited breath for a small eternity.

The seconds ticked by, ringing impossibly loud in her ears, and
the tears rising in her throat shocked her in a vague, detached way. She hadn't
thought she'd had any left. Still the blood dripped and still they stayed
unmoving, and she wondered if she'd been too late, cold fear filling her from
head to foot at the ght.ght. But the water and dol dolphins
and the birds…Surely that meant they were alivr wor would the animals of their
domains still hearken to the calls of their corpses? She really didn't want to
find out, and her mind whirled, trying to think of something. Unbidden, a song of lamenting and rebirth spilled from
her lips in ancient Gaelic.

She kneeled there, her voice rising and falling, and she called
out to them as she called out to her god, wanting to feel Him back inside her
more than anything. Everything had been so empty since the failure of the trip to
Nor Gorgun. So empty and lifeless and dull, and she wanted her friends back,
she wanted her god back. And then, like the first glimpse of the moon on a
starless night, a single silver eye cracked open the minutest bit, followed on
the other side by a splash of brilliant blue. Her song died as she started in
surprise, her hands clenching and causing the blood to flow faster. With a
snake's sudden quickness, lips parted a second before they struck.

Their hands shot out and grabbed the bleeding offerings, dragging
them to their mouths and sinking fangs deep into the flesh. The wizard woke up
then, his eyes widening in horror when he saw that he was being feasted upon,
silent screams pouring from his throat. But she had no compassion for one who
worked for a tainted god, and she could be as cold hea heartless as Mother
Nature when angered. That's why she let him stay awake that time, let him see
his death as it closed in on him from all sides. His blood flowed faster when
his heart was thrumming in primal fright anyway. And then he was slumping, his
eyes glazing and falling shut as it beat its final time.

Letting him sink to the sand carelessly, she watched breathlessly
as her friends' fingers curled around the edges of the coffins, as their eyes
opened fully and their tongues darted out, licking the stray blood from their
skin. Then they were rising and she was sobbing, kicking the acolyte out of her
way as she held a hand out to each of them. They took them without even
looking, their gazes glued on the stars, and she pulled them out of the cursed
coffins, leading them away so that the metal wouldn't accidentally brush
against them. They turned to her slowly and she threw her arms around them,
feeling as if she would explode right then and there from sheer joy.

They returned the embrace after a few hesitant seconds, as if
their memories were only slowly resurfacing, and then their arms tightened
around her as they started shaking. She knew, on some level that had nothing to
do with magical connections and divine Marks, that
everything was coming back to them too swiftly, and she let her voice rise in
song again, enveloping them in the soothing touch of the earth underneath her.
They needed more blood and they needed it quickly, so she drew away once their
breathing had evened out. Running her eyes over them, she studied the extent of
their injuries, trying to decide the best course of action.

The wounds had healed only fractionally, and they were too severe
for them to be able to draw on enough energy from the wind and water to heal n
cn
class=GramE>themselves while they were still so weak. And she…Well, she was
running on borrowed time herself. They needed to get out of the wards as soon
as possible. She opened her mouth to tell them so, when Draco and Blaise's eyes
met and the rest of the world seemed to fall away. It seemed they had not seen
one another until that moment, and there were entire galaxies of meaning in
that single meeting of silver and cerulean. They did not see the burns and the blisters, did not see the charred skin. They only saw each
other.

She turned away when Blaise's fingers rose in wonder, tracing over
one of Draco's cheekbones as if he could not believs eys eyes, and she let
herself fall back onto the sand. Let them
have a moment, she told herself. You
would wish it too if your last thought had been that you'd lost your soulmates forever. Her eyes rising to the heavens, she
sought out her favorite constellations. There was Cetus,
which she had always thought looked like one of the strange mooncalf creatures
that made crop circles, then Cassiopeia, which looked a lot like the symbol for
earth in the old tongue, then Gemini, the constellation of her birth, and, of
course, Draco, although it looked more like a snake to her than a dragon.

"Padma?" Their voices jolted her back to reality, and
she shot up quickly. "Where is Virginia?"

"Back at the castle. We must go. Can you walk?" She
asked, getting to her feet, small thrills of happiness oozing through her at
the thought of taking them back to Virginia, of seeing the girl
smile again. And just at the thought of them alive. They were really alive!

"Oui." They said, rising slowly to their feet, their
wounds obviously still bothering them.

"Then come. We must sneak back through the labyrinth and get
out of the wards. I have a portkey from Umethi to get
us to Hogwarts." She said, and ghosts of their usual smirks drifted over
their lips.

"Umethiw tyw typical." They replied, and they started off across the sand, her in the lead since they had
no idea where they were going.

They reached the maze of stone passageways soon enough, and she
made them wait behind each corner while she scouted ahead. She was stronger,
which was quite sad considering her condition, but she was too drained to cast
her senses out again, and they couldn't risk a fight right then. Draco and
Blaise were, for once, too weak to argue with her. She was pretty
sure that they were almost out when she came to a dead end. The hairs on
the back of her neck prickled, because she was positive that there had been a
door there before. She was in a medium-sized room that was filled with shadows,
but the single scrap of tapestry on the wall confirmed that it was the right
one.

Shit, she thought acidly. Well, this is just bloody fabulous.
Starting a circle of the room's perimeter, she ran her fingers over the wall,
searching for some sign of the missing door. But there was nothing. She was
about to give up and go back to her friends, when a long coil of hated metal
wrapped around her throat and drug her to the floor. Scrabbling at it as it ate
through her skin and stole what little power she had left, she felt her insides
turn to ice when a hooded figure wielding a scimitar came to stand above her. No. No, not now. Please not now. But there was no changing this fate, this
nightmare from her vision.

She didn't even scream as her sister brought the blade down and
into her chest.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Blaise couldn't remember ever having been so tired in his life.
Okay, well, maybe a few times, but not since their fathers had died. He needed
blood. Soon. Every minute that passed made the hunger gnaw at him more and more
viciously, and he knew Draco was experiencing the same. All he wanted right
then was to get back to Hogwarts, snog Virginia senseless, drain a
few fifth years, and collapse into a healing sleep for an age or two. Instead,
he was crouched beside Draco in some dingy hallway that was filled with dirt
and sand, waiting for Padma to find their way out of this hellhole maze. Life
had definitely taken a turn to the shitty side.

But then again…Draco was beside him, and that could make any
situation bearable. And the last thing he'd seen were Draco's eyes falling shut
in what he'd been sure was death. But he was alive, gloriously alive, and seeing him
that way when they'd been freed had been like swimming through a pool of
rapture and contentment. Draco was alive, Virginia was safe at the
castle, and continuing to exist wasn't nearly as hard with those two things as
incentive, even though his body was screaming in torment every time he so much
as breathed. Needless to say, he'd given up on that a
while ago. Chilled fingers ran down his cheek, drawing him from his thoughts.

"And what makes you smile so?" Draco asked in a low
whisper, and goosebumps ran over the parts of Blaise's flesh that hadn't been
melted and burned.

"You, of course. You and our lady.
Do you think she's missed us?"

"If she hasn't, we'll make her remember why she should
have." Draco replied, as much of a teasing lilt as he could manage
entering his voice.

"I thought you were dead." The words left Blaise's mouth
before he even thought of speaking them, and Draco's hand wrapped itself in his
hair.

"I know. I thought you were too." Draco said, his silver
eyes dulling briefly with remembrance. "Do you remember being
trapped?"

"Oui." Blaise responded after a few moments, the
lightest of shudders running over his skin. "I thought I was in Tartarus.
I had to watch you both burn and scream, and I could do nothing."

"What did He do to us? It had to have been a spell, or—"
He stopped the they both heard a dull thud around the corner. "What was
that?"

Blaise shook his head, not sure. Their senses were dampened along
with their strength, but it didn't stop them from going to investigate. They
took the corner and crept down the hallway, scanning everything they could.
Silence covered all thickly, until the unmistakable sound of a blade sliding
through flesh and bone met their ears. A shared glance later, they were moving
as quickly as their abused bodies could manage, and they went through the
doorway seconds later only to have rage engulf them from head to foot. Flashes
of Padma and Virginia's vision slid through their minds, intertwining with the
reality before them.

Padma had a curved sword sunk in her chest, and Parvati stood over
her, laughing. Then her eyes lifted and met theirs, and she paled rapidly,
moving back and nearly tripping over her own robes. Oh yes, Blaise thought vehemently, be afraid, little witch, be very fucking afraid. They might have been
weakened, they might have been fighting just to stay conscious, but they were
still more than a match for that traitorous little Gryffindor slut. Draco had
wanted her dead for yearser ser since Blaise had come back to the common room
livid and snarling, her scent coating him like a foul cloud. They moved toward
her now, and there was nowhere for her to run.

She met her end on razor sharp claws, and she screamed and
screamed as they sliced her into ribbons. They did not feed off of her, refused
to, and they went to Padma's side as soon as Parvati's lifeless corpse hit the
floor with a wet 'splat'. Their friend wasn't breathing, her eyes closed and
her face slack, but her heart was still beating ever-so-slowly,
and they saw that the scimitar had just grazed the right side of it. Her spine had
been severed, her left lung punctured and she had less than a minute before she
Passed, even with her self-healing skills. She was too weak, and so were they.
That really left only one choice besides snapping her neck and ending her
suffering.

They looked at each other, a million unsaid thoughts racing
between them, and they sliced the skin of their wrists open simultaneously.
There was no question of morals, no questions of right or wrong, no hesitation
and debate on whether or not she would regret it or loathe them for it later.
They simply moved to either side of her and let their blood pour between her
open lips and down her throat, working its dark magick and latching onto her
soul, becoming a part of it as surely as her love for the earth was. They sat
there, unmoving, until they knew they were about to pass out, before pulling
back and then striking, sharp fangs piercing her own
wrists.

They repeated the process, over and over
and over, until both were so weary that they couldn't so much as blwithwithout
wanting to die. Padma still wasn't breathing, not that they'd expected her to
be, but her eyes were opening and her spine and heart were long healed. The
transformation heals any physical wounds one has at the time, barring the
separation of the head from the body, and their blood was strong even if they
weren't at the moment. She gasped suddenly, tiny fangs
flashing, and they knew their work was done. She would live. Now it would just
be for an eternity. Neither realized they were falling back until they hit the
floor, and blackness started eating at their vision.

"What happened?" The voice that had always been rich and
soothing was doubly so now, and Blaise couldn't help a small smile. He was
light-headed, and distantly felt like he was floating. Strange, he thought idly. I
wonder if I'm truly dying now.

"Hmm." Was all he was able to
manage though, and he felt his hand being taken in an iron grip.

"What have you done!?" Padma shrieked, losing her cool completely.
"Fools! You were half-dead to begin with! My life means nothing compared
to yours! It means nothing compared to Virginia's sanity!" That
name cut through his foggy thoughts like a hot brand, and he wondered what she
meant. Virginia was safe in
Slytherin, wasn't she?

"Wha—?"

"She went mad when you were taken." Padma sounded as if
she were being ripped in two, and her grip on his hand tightened as she spoke
words that horrified them as nothing else could. "Your corpses showed up on
the second day. She thinks you dead and lost to her. And I was so close to
having you back…"

Oh gods, no. No, no, no.
Would they have been able to survive the same thing? Yes, his mind hissed at him, you
would have endured long enough to drag their murderers with you into Hell.

"What do I do now? Y-You're dy-dying." She continued,
her voice breaking with a sob. "And I'm still so weak. I don't know what
to do, I can't think properly, and I'm being eaten away by hunger as we speak,
though I know not what I hunger for."

"Bloo-" He heard Draco try to explain, and Padma caught
on quickly enough.

"I figured so. Now how do I get you out? I will not let you
perish here!" She exclaimed, and her conviction would have been touching
had he been able to feel anything at all. "We need help." She finally
admitted in a broken whisper, and he silently agreed. Their situation
definitely didn't look good, at any rate.

"Well, I suppose that's what I'm here for, yes?" A voice like liquid night said from
somewhere above him, and he heard Padma's startled, in-drawn breath. Trying to
focus, he could only make out floor-length hair as black as his own and
streaked with blood-red strips, huge shadows to either side,
and a face that could make gods weep when confronted with its dark
radiance.

"Who are you?" He heard Padma ask shakily, and the
answer made him wish desperately that he could see clearly.

"Me?" The delectable being questioned, and there was a
world of power in that utterance. "Why, I'm here to be your savior, as ironic
as that is. But you may call me Lucifer."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Virginia rifled through their
closet, passing row after row of clothes until she got to the very back. Each
item that she touched, filled with their scent and
with lingering traces of their auras, only solidified her fury and her longing
grief. But she had spent three days grieving; it was time for revenge. Revenge
and then release. If killing Voldemort didn't kill her, then she'd do it
herself afterwards. Her fingers finally found the thick Egyptian cotton robes
that she was looking for, and she smiled, pulling one that had been made for
her down before heading back into the bedroom. It slid on without any problems,
tailor-fitted and molding to every curve.

It was designed to leave her weapons at an easy reach, the slits
and slices in the fabric strategically placed and nearly invisible to one who
didn't know they were there. She'd already slid her boots and the sheathes off in order to put on a tight black catsuit, and had then replaced everything before going for
the robe. Walking over to one of the huge, floor-length mirrors, she braided
her hair back in three thick plaits before twining those together into one and
letting it hang down her back. She studied her reflection for a moment, before
intoxicating laughter reminded her of her purpose. She had things to do, people
to kill.

It was time to break free.

Annoyed at her lack of magic, she stared at the fire pit for a few
moments, trying to think of how she was supposed to make a fire when she
couldn't call in any wood. They were mages,
damn it. They didn't have little piles of the shit lying around. Soft laughter
and a cold hand turned her around, and she attempted to figure out what they
were trying to tell her. All she could see were the divans and the bookshelves,
and she definitely wasn't burning the books. She'd set a house elf on fire
first. More laughter, as if they knew what she was thinking, and then she
understood. She wouldn't burn the books. But she would burn the divans.

Breaking them up was mildly difficult, as they were made from
sturdy wezdink wood, but she had a considerable pile
in the pit within minutes. Fire wasn't hard to come by, the room was littered
with candles and torches, and she took one of the latter off of the wall.
Taking it with her, she walked to the far corner by the bathroom and spoke the
password to open the hidden cubbyhole there. Reaching in, she felt around until
her fingers brushed over leather and an icy charge slid over her skin. She
could feel her own magic weaved inside it as well, and pulled the book out
before shutting the hole once more.

It was her lovers' Book of Shadows. She still had her own from before
she'd gotten with them, but it had been abandoned in favor of the one she now
held. It resonated with their energy, fire, ice and lightning trapped within
its pages, and she stroked the cover fondly. Had any hand but theirs touched
it, a most unpleasant death would soon follow unless they counteracted the
curse. She supposed that Padma and the twins could handle it, but probably only
if their Marks were functional. Do not
think of Cocidius, she told herself sternly. Do not think of the aching emptiness. She had to be strong. She had
to keep fighting off her madness until her work was done.

But it was there, like a hungry wolf nipping at her heels, and it
wouldn't be ignored much longer, no matter how strong her will. Her grief was
too great, too breaking, for her to overcome it. She didn't even want to try.
There would be no 'moving on' for her. Because they were, quite simply,
everything. And without them, she was nothing. Even her body agreed with her
there. She knew that she had faded in the last few days; she knew that she was
slowly dying. But she had no intention of waiting for that dragging, agonizing
death. No, she would go out in a burst of glory just as they had done. She
would make them proud.

Opening the book, she sprinkled a circle of salt around the fire
pit as she recited the words of an old Celtic chant. Her magic couldn't escape
into the circle to charge it, but the salt would still do its job, and the
book's magick aided her. The spell she
needed was towards the middle of the book, if the thing even had a beginning, middle or end. The
pages in it would never be filled, as a blank one waited at the back no matter
how many times it was used. To find a certain entry, you simply had to
concentrate. She could still do that,
thank the Lady, and her eyes ran over the spell. Yes, she'd remembered
correctly. It could break her binds.

Finishing her circle, she sat beside the fire pit with the book
and the torch, and she lit the kindling, watching the play of flames over wood.
The popping and crackling melded with her lovers' laughter, which had started
anew when her circle closed. She threw the torch in with the rest, and laughed
herself when a spark flew out and hit her cheek. Its warmth was brief,
instantaneous, nothing at all like what she was about create. Her voice began
the spell slowly, making sure that her pronunciation was correct, before the
reservoirs of power in the book opened up to her. They were there in case of an
emergency like this one, and she soaked it all in greedily.

Once she was filled with it, once she tingled from head to toe,
she began the true spell, the one that would set her loose, that would break
the magickal ties that thought to keep her quiet and docile. The void rushed
in, filling her and her circle, and the rest of the world melted away. She was
surrounded by the living blackness, and a small, purple glow was all that she
could see. It grew larger and larger and she saw that it was
a cage, a cage with her inside, and the other her was beating at the bars of it.
Gliding over, she examined it and knew the book's power could break it. Her
lovers had prepared well for such an event.

She was slightly surprised at the ease of ripping that cage into
sparkling pieces, and she gasped when the other her collided with her and
melded into her. Feeling her magic returned to her, she howled with triumph and
glee. Free! Now she would make them
see. Now she would make them realize their folly in trying to trap her.
Slamming back into her body, she let her power build and build, let it flow
into every cell and vein, let it stream down to the tips of her hair and run
over and under her skin in ruby torrents. Reaching the level where she would
usually have stopped, she continued channeling energy, continued feeding the
inferno growing within her.

But that inferno soon morphed into something different, something
infinitely hotter and deadlier, and this, this
was why her beloveds called her their sun, their raging star. Her skin became
flames, her hair molten lava, and the fire inside her core became a nova
waiting to explode. Flowing to her feet, she broke her circle with the smallest
psychic push, and her light burst forth from it, blinding in its intensity.
Pure heat rolled off of her, and she had to make a conscious effort not to incinerate
everything with ten yards of her glowing, flickering form. Floating to the
portrait, her toes barely skimming the marble, she blasted it open, along with
the shields around the room.

Sliding out into the hallway, it was a swift trip to the common
room. Nearly everyone was there, and they'd come running at the sound of the
explosion. They were soon running the other way, however, as the heat and light
she was giving off forced them back. The twins were the first to recognize her,
and she could see them fighting off the effects of a sleeping draught as they
stared in disbelief. She did not want to fight them to get away, and lips like lightning brushed over her ear before a ghostly whisper
gave her an idea. They had bound her in love, she knew that even past her
anger, and now she would return the favor, and more.

Before they even knew what was happening, binding spells of her
own snapped up over the entire House. It would not keep them from their magic,
but from leaving. Then shields, shields to keep them safe, and she was gone. Apparating through the wards of Hogwarts should have been
impossible. But she was fire then,
purely fire, and she was the most powerful witch the world had seen in
millennia. No light magic wards could stop her, not anymore. Tom wanted to play
games, wanted her. Well, he had gone too far this time, much too far, and he
was about to get both. He should have paid more attention to the old proverbs,
for one held true no matter what world or Realm you called home.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

The first thing that Draco was aware of after their trip
to…wherever, was blood sweeter than ambrosia sliding down his throat and
pooling inside him, strong and eternal. His lips clamped on the bleeding flesh
at his mouth eagerly, wanting moremoremore. He could feel his power coming
back, could feel his wounds healing and his mind sharpening, and he would have
screamed in ecstasy, but that would have involved him removing his teeth from
the blissful fount of dark divinity that was returning him to full strength so
rapidly it was making his head spin. It stayed there, feeding energy into him,
long after a mortal would have been dead.

But finally, eventually, it gradually drew back, and he was so
sated that it didn't even occur to him to fight to keep it there. His vision
was swirling with a plethora of colors, his skin was hypersensitive almost to
the point of being deliciously painful, and he absurdly felt like giggling
madly. The only time he'd felt anything like it was after feeding off of
Cocidius, but it was not his master's blood that was
currently overwhelming him, although it was strangely similar. Hallowed
fingers ran over his bloody lips and down to his throat, continuing in a trail
down his chest and stomach that had his body and senses coming fully awake and
aware.

Those perfect fingers brushed over his groin and his eyes shot up,
the caress finally registering in his brain. He was confronted with a majestic
creature full of more dark beauty than he had ever seen any being infused with,
and recognition lit within him. His gaze ran over chiseled cheekbones and
blood-red lips, over raven hair as black as Blaise's, over the muscled form
encased in midnight leather, over two huge, feathered obsidian wings, and then
his eyes met those of the first god to ever Fall. Eons filled those ebony orbs,
eons filled with pain and suffering and hate, with joy
and laughter and love. He had always wanted to meet Lucifer, the Bane of the Burning
God.

"My lord." He intoned reverently, and those crimson lips
quirked.

"Silver Prince." The High King replied in a voice that
reverberated with sensual seduction and the promise of all things wicked.
"It is good that you wake. Long have I wished to speak with you."

"Blaise? Padma?" He asked, sliding into a sitting
position. The huge, glorious wings blocked his view of most everything around
him, not that he truly minded. Another hand snaked under the layers of
feathers, elegant, black tipped fingers intertwining with his, and the wing
shifted, allowing him to see his lover's flushed cheeks and glowing eyes, his
bloody mouth and healed form.

"Safe, as you can see." Lucifer said softly, and the
other wing drew back to reveal Padma, who was just coming to her senses.

They were on a bed that seemed to stretch on forever, the sheets
as soft as clouds and the air heavy with the scent of blood and myrrh. He could
not see anything but for the bed, the void encompassing all and the only light
coming from their skin. Lucifer lived up to His name, and his bone-pale skin
was alight as if he were lit from within by a thousand suns. The Morningstar,
indeed. He was almighty and supreme, celestial and mystical. He had Fallen from Heaven ages ago, and ruled Hell with a velvet
fist that would comfort as quickly as it would crush. He accepted all forms of
magic as His rival did not, and wizarding children of dark families worshiped
Him as well.

They knew next to nothing about His counterpart, the Burning God,
besides the fact that He had slaughtered their people for centuries, but they
knew as much about the Son of Morning as they did about the other gods. He
associated with few other deities, but Cocidius had told them that they had
been friends (and more than likely lovers) since long before the vision of
humans was put into play. As His Chosen, they had nothing to fear from this
Lord of Hell, and therefore reveled in His presence. They knew that muggles
cursed His name, swearing Him evil, and they were probably right. But He was
magnificent in His depravity. Muggles were fools.

"The Dark Court hunts for Cocidius." Lucifer told them,
feathers tickling over their flesh and making them shiver in delight. "Isis had a most disturbing
revelation."

"Is He alright?" Padma asked, her voice slightly
pleading. Draco knew how she felt. The absence of Cocidius was like a knife in
the soul, one that kept revolving and twisting and
causing wave after wave of never-ending agony.

"We do not know yet. I've linked to her, but she searches
still. We know only that he's been trapped by the power of the Light
Court." He replied, acid creeping into that
honeyed tone. "I find it stupid of them to consent to such a thing, and I
wonder now if they did. They know that what has been done to him means open war
between the Courts."

"The gods are going to war?" Blaise asked, and
curiosity, not the expected fear, filled his blue-but-not-blue eyes, causing
Lucifer to laugh. They all gasped as the harmonious, nefarious sound of it
rolled over them, feeling as if those feathers had just run the length of them
with a lover's familiarity.

"Trust it to be the Chosen of Cocidius who find that prospect
enticing. He always did get all of the good ones." The Morningstar
commented wryly, ebony eyes running over them with appraisal. "Perhaps
he'll share." His bewitching smile became razor-edged and feral.

"I think not, O Mighty Son of the Dawn." A husky,
predatory voice said from behind them, and another shift of fluttering wings
revealed Hades, the Greek God of Death and the Underworld, the High King of
Tartarus. He could have been Lucifer's twin but for the lack of wings and His
inky black lips and tongue. "If these Shadow dwellers are shared with
anyone, it will be me."

"Don't you have something better to do?" Lucifer asked,
turning that devilish smirk on the other god. "It is winter in Greece, after all. Surely
Persephone grows lonely."

"I've come to tell thee to quit dawdling." Hades
responded, His gold and silver crown flashing in the flickering light. "We
think we’ve found him, and they must go before their lover dies."

"Dies?" Draco
and Blaise questioned in unison, beginning to rise until Lucifer motioned them
back. Reluctantly they slid back down, waiting for the rest.

"You found Cocidius?" Lucifer questioned, and Hades gave
a barely perceptible nod.

"We believe so. I haven't seen Isis and the other Queens so enraged in…Hmm.
Since the last war, I suppose." Hades said, moving closer and falling to
His knees beside Lucifer in front of them. "They are quite beautiful, are
they not?"

Well. That was certainly off
subject, Draco thought dryly.

"Exceptionally so. And have you seen the other? Like our
Realms' fires, she burns bright and fierce."

"I'm aware of that. The entire Court felt her unleashing
earlier. The ether shook with it." Hades said, and Draco's patience, even
with gods that he adored, was running thin. What unleashing? What had she done?
Where was she?

"Do not frown so." Lucifer teased, looking between him
and Blaise with a smirk that could enchant demons. And had.

"Thee still has time." Hades
added, his voice as musical as the other's, though the tones were slightly
different; unique.

"Time for what? Is she in danger?" Draco asked, itching
to do something, itching to see her, feel her, know that she was safe in their
arms.

"Yes. But not from what she thinks. She has gone after that
miscreant Dark Lord to avenge your deaths." Lucifer told them, and they
very nearly died right there on the spot. Their love, their heart, their soul,
had walked into a viper's nest that she couldn't comprehend.

"Where is Dagda? Is He there? Fuck, we have to go, we have to get her out of there…" They were already
rising, the bed turning as hard as a floor underneath their feet, and when they
looked down, they saw marble instead of silk.

"No, he's not there, not yet." Lucifer said, going
around behind them and starting to plait their hair. They would have lavished
in His attention at any other time, but they couldn't then, not while Virginia was in trouble. Padma
watched all with her calm, serene eyes, and they felt steadier just knowing
that she was with them.

"It is like this, Chosen of Cocidius." Hades started,
offering both Draco and Blaise one of His pale wrists. Fangs split divine flesh
readily, glad for the extra strength, and they somehow kept their wits about
them enough to listen as He continued speaking. "Gods and mortals alike
will soon be at war. And thee four…Oh, that does
feel good. Now I remember why we were so often drawn
to vampiric Chosen…As I was saying, thee four were created to
fight it on both fronts. But now is not the time. Cocidius will be weak when he
is freed; he's been channeling too much power in order to break his bonds, and
Dagda will be strong. And we cannot interfere, it's written in the Lady's
stars. Cocidius and Dagda must fight, but not
now. And if the flame princess kills the traitor's Chosen, Dagda will kill her,
therefore throwing destiny askew and damning us all. Lovely news I bring thee,
yes?"

"Very." They replied, drawing back from His addicting
taste and licking their lips as they considered what He'd said. "So, all
we have to do is stop her from killing Voldemort?"

"Yes."

"And if Dagda comes while we are there?" They asked, and
the High Kings looked amused, Hades' left wrist extending toward Padma.

"You have the blood of three dark gods in you." Lucifer
reminded them. "Just wish yourselves gone. The ether will listen to you
now, and you are free to travel it." He said, referring to the psychic
roads through the void that the gods used to travel from place to place. The
ether was everywhere, in everything, and could carry emotions and disturbances
along its paths as well as it could creatures and gods. "And here. I have
a gift for you." He extended His hand, and four bands of silver appeared
on His palm. They were gorgeous, the detail exquisite, the runes of all four
elements twining around them over and over in a
ceaseless pattern.

"What are those?" Padma asked, and He laughed again,
before giving one to each of them and holding out the forth.

"Consider them your birthright, like your swords. They will
help you focus your elemental energy, as well as give you access to the other
three through one another. The forth one is for Virginia, of course. I wish
for you to bring her to me, sometime before the war gets underway. I have
another gift for her." He said, and Draco nodded at Blaise to take the
ring. He did, vanishing it and sliding his own on next
to his signet ring.

"Go.&qu." Lucifer said, and kissed all three on the
lips, sending their spirits soaring. "I will go to Cocidius. You will know
when he breaks free. Get in and get out. Your time to fight is not this
day." Then He waved one elegant hand, and their world was graying and
spinning as they rode the ether, seeking Virginia.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Nor Gorgun had been abandoned. Looking at its empty halls and dead
wards, Virginia had felt a wash of
pride. So, her boyfriends had spooked the Dark Lord with their easy
infiltration. Good. Fig a g a Death Eater after leaving hadn't been nearly as
difficult as she'd imagined it to be, and he had died a nasty death after
giving her the information she needed. Voldemort had retreated to the Dark
Hall, Grindelwald's old refuge that had been abandoned in 1945 after Dumbledore
took off his head. That last part was rarely publicized, but her grandfather
had been there. He had seen that battle; he had seen the wizard's head rolling
over the blood-splattered grass.

So to the Dark Hall she had gone, and she had swept through its
corridors like a Lady of Death, merciless and unpitying. All that she had met
had died, except for the rare few that she reczed zed as her lovers' spies.
Over a hundred and fifty fell to her wrath, eighty before the alarm had been
raised. Fools. Coming at her in a large group had simply given her the chance
to clear out quite a few at once. Her rage burned hot and cleansing, and she
scorched the filth from the very stones as she passed. She had sensed the Dark
Lord far below her, and she had wound her way to him, stopping only when a
random idea had given her quite the brilliant plan.

Thinking of Grindelwald was what had done it, and the next Death
Eater she'd come across had found himself missing a head. It now hung, spelled
and changed, inside a cloth pouch at her waist, hitting her thigh every time
she took a step. It was her ticket; her ticket to get close
enough to use her poison. Voldemort was cunning, yes, but he was also foolish.
She knew it would work. Casting out her senses, she smiled cruelly when she
sensed only seven still alive. That was twice in less than a week that his
followers had been wiped out on their home turf. If it hadn't been for the
Bane, many would have abandoned his ranks by then.

Nearing the throne room, another smile stole across her face. This
was going to be fun. She would greatly enjoy watching the one who had caused
her lover's deaths writhe in soul-eating pain at the base of his own throne.
His god might have been the one to actually take them,
but she didn't think for a second that he had argued. It all came back to him
in the end. And now it was time for him to pay. She threw open the doors with a
thought, stalking into the room and seeing him lounged carelessly in his
throne, still and quiet as if he hadn't felt the deaths of those loyal to him
all throughout the Hall over the last hour. >

"Well, hello there, Tom." She purred, her dead
boyfriends laughing in her ear. Gods, how she wanted to die.

"Virginia." He replied, his scarlet eyes following her every move. She made it
fifteen feet from him before he bade her to stop, and she did, which caused the
smallest flicker of surprise to manifest itself in his
gaze before it was gone. He waved a hand and the doors slammed close, wards
springing up in front of them. She felt no fear, though. She had come here to
die. Just not alone.

"Aren't you pleased to see your key?" She asked, and
that time he couldn't hide his disbelief. Then his eyes narrowed suspiciously,
and she smirked openly.

"Why are you here?" He demanded. "Besides this
little revenge mission. How stupid are you, that you
would still come, even knowing what you do?"

"Not stupid at all, Tom." She said silkily, sauntering
forward another step and looking up at him coyly. "I've come to join
you."

He laughed. "Do not lie to me. You would never join me."

"Wouldn't I?" She asked, running her tongue over her
lips. "I wish to rule. I've discovered that power suits me. And with my
lovers gone…" She trailed off suggestively, even as her words ate at what
little was left of her soul.

"I do not believe you." He stated, his eyes running over
her. She wondered how much he could see through the flames that she was made up
of, and dampened them a bit. Taking another few steps toward him, she undid the
pouch at her waist.

"But you should." She argued. "And I've brought you
proof. I wish to collect on the deal you offered my late lovers."

"And which deal would that be?" He asked sarcastically,
but instead of answering, she wrapped her hand in the head's hair and drew it
out slowly, enjoying his look of growing shock as she revealed her 'prize'.

"You didn't!" He exclaimed, rising from his throne in
one graceful move, triumph obscuring his beautiful features.

"But I did. Dumbledore's head, my lord, just as you
requested." She said, the title feeling vile on her tongue even as it came
out sugary sweet. She tossed the graying, wrinkled head at his feet, and almost
crowed in victory when Voldemort turned smoldering eyes on her and beckoned her
forward. She moved towards him, absently scratching her arm as it started
itching, and she had to force herself to kneel, had to force herself to
remember that the end result would be worth it.

"You will be my Consort, of course." He started, and she
glanced up at him briefly through her hair, which she let let loose of its
braids before coming to see him. He continued on, detailing how great and
unstoppable they would be, and discdiscreetly slid the vial of blood and tears
into her hand. The cork disappeared down her sleeve, followed shortly by the
vial, and the mixture sat heavily on her tongue, waiting to heal or kill at her
will.

She wondered if it would kill her as well should she wish it.

"Rise." He finally said, wrapping his hand in her
tresses and yanking her up by them roughly. t;Yot;You have lost some of your
beauty since their deaths," he commented disdainfully, "but you shall
gain it back, you you shall be my greatest weapon, my greatest whore." He
crooned in her ear, and she had to stop herself from spitting in his face.

Then his lips were on hers, his forked tongue snaking into her
mouth, and three things happened at once. She grabbed his head, opened her
mouth to his and forced the poison down his throat, the Mark on her arm flared
to life for the first time in much too long, and the doors leading into the
room burst open, flying through the air and hitting the opposite wall. Voldemort
threw her back from him, gagging and spluttering as his skin started smoking,
and she bracedselfself to hit the floor hard. But she never did, and when she
looked up, she very nearly fainted. Because Draco had caught her, which was
impossible, and Blaise stood in front of her, his hand raised to stop any
curses that the Dark Lord might attempt.

She could do nothing but stare for a long, never-ending moment,
and that tinkling laughter sounded behind her again, before the two skeletons
that had haunted her came into view, waved once, their bony hands swaying, and
stepped into the two visions before her, melding with them and becoming one.
Something vital within her shifted back into place, the wounds around her
bleeding heart sealing up with the rush of divinity that comed med she was not
hallucinating, that they were real and her god was truly back. Then she was
sobbing, throwing her arms around Draco as if he were going to disappear, and
she fisted a hand in Blaise's robes, dragging him down to her. Fuck the stupid
Dark Lord. He was dying anyway.

"Oh gods,'re 're alive!
How are you alive? No, I don't even care. Alive!"
She said ecstatically, laying kisses over every inch of them that she could
reach, her hands running over familiar muscles and robes of utter blackness
that were like the ones the Lady had given them, but different. They were
alive, with her, whole, unblemished,
and ALIVE, and coulcouldn’t breathe through the absolute, engulfing joy that
threatened to make her completely insensible. They embraced her just as
tightly, brushing the tears from her cheeks (that hadn't evaporated) away with
soft lips and darting tongues. And then, cementing her returned happiness,
Cocidius spoke to them and her heart soared, even though his words were a warning.

'He comes. Go, take her and
go. I will come for thee later. We have much to discuss. Be safe, beloved Chosen, and
know that I am with thee.'

'Will Voldemort survive? Can
Dagda heal that?' Her lovers asked, their eyes on
the smoking form of the Dark Lord. 'Lucifer
and Hades said that it was not his day to die, that—'

'Yes, Dagda will more than
likely heal him. The leech has the power, for the moment. Now go! I am not
strong enough to fight him yet.'

"Come on, love." Draco said, helping her to her feet.
She glimpsed Padma for the first time, off to the side, and something was
different about her. But she didn't have
time to figure it out yet, as she could feel the growing presence of a
different divinity coming towards them. She did have time for one thing though,
and she walked to Voldemort's side, her boyfriends at hers, before leaning down
and meeting anguish-filled crimson eyes that burned with hate. She recalled the
words that she'd spoken to him once before, and repeated them to him then, in
his darkest hour, before disappearing with her returned lovers.

"In vengeance, Voldemort."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Whew. Things are definitely heating up! Please (begs on hands and
knees), pleasepleaseplease review!!!!

(Sebek – Egyptian God of Water and Crocodiles)

(Horus – Egyptian God of the Sky and Sun)

(Osirus – Egyptian King God of Death and the Underworld)

(Persephone – Greek Queen Goddess of Innocence and the Underworld)