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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
- 28
- 29
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 inadvertentlusedused. Otherwise, what do you care, right?

French translations: ((example))

��

"En Garde."

That was all the warning Blaise ever gave an opponent, if
they were lucky enough to merit one at all, and metal hit metal seconds later.
Anton smirked and Blaise returned it, and their fight continued, every movement
precise and normally lethal. But this wasn't a normal fight, just practice, and
they fought with the flowing ease of those who had dueled each other for years.
Both had practically been born with a sword in hand, as had most purebloods
that still followed the true path. They had started fencing with rapiers first,
and the moves and their names ran through his head still, ingrained for so long
that it was completely unconscious.

'Advance. Glise'. Balestra. Spin.'

It had been two months. Sixty-one days since Draco and
Blaise had come back and they had taken every Slytherin over sixteen to the
Manor that had wished to come, and many of the younger students as well, mostly
those whose parents wished them somewhere safe, or that didn't care at all if
they weren't their firstborn heirs. The Slytherins' abandoning of the school
had caused more than a little turmoil, and not just at Hogwarts. Rumors had
been running rampantly throughout the wizarding world, and even more were now
considering how many witches and wizards had recently 'been abducted' or had
'disappeared'.

'Attack au Fer. Disengage. Plaque'. Quinte.'

More like been recruited. The grounds of the Manor and
Tenebre Stella were now fully functional army camps. The reach of the Malfoy
and Zabini bloodlines was huge, spanning the globe, and those that owed their
families fealty had been summoned, vast numbers trickling in through
unauthorized portkeys and the help of the gods. The
latter had scared and awed so many so badly that they hadn't uttered so much as
a peep of protest when ordered to take Veritaserum. Those found of being
traitors bearing the Dark Mark were publicly tried and executed without
question or remorse. This was war, and they were taking no chances.

'Parry. In Quartata. Octave. Retreat.'

Two hundred thousand. Two hundred thousand able-bodied
witches and wizards readying themselves for war, half at the Manor, half at
Stella. Many were pureblooded, many were not. It was war. The quality of the
blood didn't count when so many bodies lay upon the earth that the ground is
nothing but a thick red lake for as far as you can see. He had seen the viewing
crystals of the old battles; he had seen what to expect in vivid detail. So
they had been calling in those in their service, as well as clinging to shadows
in dark streets and enlisting people with hushed whispers and promises of
protection for them and their families should they win.

'Passe' Avant. Coupe'.
Advance. Croise.'

Everyone knew what the alternatives were. It was war. In
their world, there were no neutral countries, no indifferent safe-havens. There
were only three choices. Fight for Voldemort and become a slave even if you
won; fight for the Ministry and take your chances in their practically
non-existent forces; or fight for the fElemElementals that were their only real
chance at any sort of tolerable survival. It was actually surprising how many
people had clued into that knowledge so fast, amazing how they understood more
than he'd hoped for. The Ministry was useless, they'd been telling everyone
that for ages, but only recently had the general populace started to truly
realize it.

'FlecParry. Riposte.
Lunge. Flick.'

Because Voldemort had only just been fully healed, as
Cocidius had assured His Chosen. Over a month and a half of healing was almost
unheard of in their world, because you usually either took to the treatments
and got better quickly, or you died. Simple. But Virginia
had fucked him up badly, and only Dagda's intervention had saved his life. Her
cunning in poisoning him had earned her a great deal of admiration, and Padma
had gotten her fair share as well for her rescue of Draco and Blaise. But Dagda
had been giving orders through Voldemort's most loyal supporters, so the
fighting had begun even though he had been incapacitated.

'Septime. Thrust. Trompement.
Corps-a-corps.'

They attacked at dusk the next day. His father had sent the
owl informing them of the enemy's plans three days before, and they'd been
preparing ever since. Their Death Eater spies would desert Voldemort and his
army right before the battle and join them, and they would surround his army
from all sides. He was attacking the largest base left to the Light side just
as the sun started sinking, and is ths the first time that he would have the
majority of his forces in one place at one time, which is what they'd been
waiting for. They were ready and they were strong. Their numbers would be
pretty evenly matched, as would the central powers according to the prophecy
that Anton and Pansy had been entrusted to hear.

/p>

"Fuck!" He exclaimed as he hit the ground hard,
Blaise having taken out his legs. He found himself looking up a long black
blade that was at his throat, and he groaned when he saw Blaise's amused
expression.

"You were not paying attention." Blaise said
mockingly in his musical voice. "In fact, you have barely been paying
attention the entire time. What burdens your mind so? Do you not feel the growing
battle lust like the others?" He asked, sheathing his blade and holding
out his hand. Anton took it and sprung to his feet, his own sword sliding home
across his back.

"Just thinking. And yes, I do. We shall have a bloody
moon this next night." He said, his eyes lifting to the star-speckled sky
briefly before returning to his friend.

"Bloody moon, indeed." Bl agr agreed, smiling and
flashing sharp fangs. "So you had better go love your lady like never
before, hmm?"

"It's like you read my thoughts." Anton teased,
shoving his shoulder as he walked past him to the bench at the edge of the
clearing that had their shirts and robes draped over it. "It is quite gratifying to see their eyes
un-focus as intelligent thought leaves them completely, isn't quotquot;

&np>

"Very much so." Blaise commented, vanishing his
sword and joining Anton by the bench. "Almost as much as the pleading
moans and decadent screams."

"You know what else is amusing?" A familiar
feminine voice questioned from behind them, and both spun around to see their
girlfriends, each of which had a pair of black sais in their hands. The long,
slender, dagger-like weapons could be used in hand-to-hand combat or thrown
with deadly efficiency, and they were both lucky enough to have girlfriends who
were quite skilled with them. Fabulous.

"The looks on your faces right now." Pansy
finished for Virginia smoothly,
her eyes burrowing into him accusingly. Blaise wasn't receiving much better,
and Virginia was twirling one sai absently.

"Blaise." He inquired under his breath while the
girls were still a good ways off from them. "Do you think you could catch
one of those?"

"I know I can."

"Right. But I meant if Virginia
throws it."

Silence. Then, "Perhaps."

mal>"Perhaps?
What the fuck do you mean 'perhaps'?" Anton hissed, and Blaise blew a
stray lock of obsidian hair out of his eyes before answering.

"Well, depending how irked she is, it might be better
to just shield rather than take any chances. We taught her to fight with those,
and I know for a fact how well she wieldem.&em."

"Yes, and you're about to get a nasty reminder, Blaise
Zabini." Virginia said, her
hands on her hips and a scowl on her pretty face. "Pleading moans, hmm?
How nice it is to know what you discuss when we're not with you."

"They probably didn't think we would have the intelligence to understand." Pansy
replied before either male could say a word.

They were saved from having to respond at all when a
chilling coldness swept into the clearing, followed shortly by one of the
Dementors. It came straight to Blaise and bowed before beckoning him closer.
Blaise obliged, hopped up on the bench, and leaned in so that the creature
wouldn't have to stoop over awkwardly. Putting his face much closer to its own
than any sane person would do, there was nothing but silence for several long
minutes. No one really knew how Blaise and Draco communicated with the things,
but it was obvious that they did somehow. He'd never been curious enough to
ask. Who would want to talk to a Dementor anyway if you had to get that close?
Not everyone had their control over them.

&qI haI have to go." Blaise said suddenly, and the
Dementor glided off a bit, waiting at the path that led back to the Manor. He
leapt easily off the bench and onto the snow. "Duty calls. And Lycelle was
looking for you, Pansy. She needs your help with spelling some of the
arrows."

"Alright." Pansy said, sheathing her1:Ci1:City>sais and sending Anton one last
glare to which he blew her a kiss. She rolled her eyes before joining Blaise,
who kissed his girlfriend's cheek and avoided her slap nimbly. Then he and
Pansy were disappearing into the trees with the Dementor, and Virginia
turned to him.

"Males are such bastards." She commented idly, and
he smirked. "You wao coo come with me to go see Draco? That's what we were
coming to get you for anyway."

"Sure." He said, throwing his robe on as he
started to really feel the chilly air against his bare skin. She took his hand
and they started off down a different path, winding their way towards the
mountain and the dragon reserve. They went the long way as to avoid all of the
witches and wizards scattered all over the place, but they could still hear
steel hitting steel and distant shouts.

"You leave for Stella this coming day at noon, don't you?" Virginia
asked, and Anton nodded.

"Yes. I'll have everyone ready to leave at
sunset." He said, since he was leading the troops at Stella into battle,
while Pansy would be heading those from the Manor. Their key fighters would be
coming shortly afterwards.

"And do you like your new status as a general?"
She teased, knowing full and well his opinions on it.

"Hmm, let's see. Power, strength, ect ect and fear.
Yes, I believe I do."

"Figures." She mumbled, and then paused.
"Darkness grows in my mind." She said after a few moments of silence,
and he looked over at her, slightly startled. "But I do not know if it is
the void's darkness or the tainted dark. I know only that one will defeat the
other for good this next night. This will not be a drawn-out war, not this
time. I just wish we knew who the other Dark Lords are."

"Well, we'll find out soon enough, won't we?"
Anton asked with a roguish grin, trying to lighten her mood. She smiled
briefly, but he could still see the worry in her eyes. "Look, Virginia,
think of it like this. Even if we lose, we'll all see each other in the
afterlife, now won't we?"

"That's just it, Anton." She said, stopping and
looking up at him, her charcoal eyes and their recently acquired black rings
seeming to suck up the starlight.

She'd gone to see Lucifer and Hades a week after they'd
arrived at the Manor, and had come back with darker eyes and fists full of
hellfire, a gift from the High Kings. Hellfire could eat through toughest stone
and melt any metal instantly. There was no defense against it, unless you had a
silver ring on your finger bearing the runes of all four elements, another gift
courtesy of the Morningstar. Only eight of the rings existed, and He'd given
them the other four to give to those they trusted most. The twins had each
received one, as had Pansy and Anton, and they were irremovable. They were also
incredible power boosters.

"What's it?"

"The Dark Royals fear that Dagda may have found a way
to kill a god." She whispered, and he felt like he'd been punched in the
chest.

"How?" He asked raggedly, the night seeming a lot
darker all of a sudden.

"They don't know. They can just�feel that something major has shifted. So they attack at dusk with
us. Many of the Light Royals have joined with them. There will be two battles;
one on the earth and one in the sky."

"If Cocidius dies�" Anton couldn't even finish the
sentence, as just thig ofg of it brought actual, physical pain.

"Then we die with &quo" Virginia
finished for him, and he felt resentment and fury settle throughout his body,
making everything sparklingly clear. "And if Dagda truly has some weapon
that can slay gods, and if Cocidius�" Her voice broke and she sucked in a
deep, shaking breath before continuing,ot;Aot;And if He dies, the Dark Royals
will want vengeance unlike any ever known before. The world will be destroyed
if they unleash all of their power, and if they die, the Underworld dies with
them. There will be no afterlife if
we fail."

"Then we won't fail." He said after another few
minutes of silence, and her eyes turned furious.

"Exactly." She hissed, her hand tightening around
his own. "We will fight twice as hard, for we do not just fight for our
lives now, but for our very souls. And I will not see everyone I love lost to
eternal oblivion."

��..

"They're here! Raise the alarm!" Dean Thomas
shouted from his lookout, and he heard the scurrying beneath him that signaled
that the others had heard him.

Looking ourossross the endless field before him, he knew
that they were all in a lot of trouble when the numbers of the army moving
toward them kept growing and growing. They already stretched farther than the
eye could see, the setting rays of the sun glinting off of their red armor like
the blood that was about to spill. He wondered, as he scrambled down the
tower's ladder, how it had come to this. What was left of the Ministry's army
was stationed here, and they only numbered ten thousand at max. We're all going to die, he thought
morosely. He hit the ground and started running for where everyone was
assembling to make a last stand, his heart filled with dread.

Within seven minutes, everyone was in the field, and all
looked lost and hopeless as they watched the dark wall moving towards them.
There was a brilliant flash of green, and an enormous Dark Mark appeared in the
sky, the gaping jaws and slithering serpent casting eerie shadows, a herald of
their doom. His heart was pounding madly as he watched their archers ready what
was left of their arrows, and they flew through the air seconds later when
their commander's arm dropped. Shields deflected the volley before sending them
back on the casters, and they threw up their own shields, though more than a few
were too slow, too sluggish with fear.

Still the army before them advanced, blocking curses and
arrows alike, and the sheer number of them was enough to make his belly fill
with ice. It was like something out of a movie, or more realistically, a nightmare.
He had not wanted to die like this. There was no honor in being so terrified
that you let yourselves be slaughtered. And he might have been raised as a
muggle, but the last seven years among wizards had taught him the meaning of
honor and pride, and he didn't want to fucking die like this. Everywhere he
looked he saw drawn faces and resigned, defeated eyes. Shields were thrown up
with half of their usual vigor, and their curses were weak.

It was like most of them already considered themselves done
for and were simply waiting for the inevitable. It didn't help that Dumbledore
had been called away earlier that day for something urgent, so there was no one
they looked up to enough to give them hope. Not that thers ans any to be seen
in the first place. He doubted that even Dumbledore could lighten the hearts of
these witches and wizards, or his own, for that matter. When he had pictured
war before, it had been nothing like the last two months of one loss right
after another. It had not been watching people he knew die one by one; it had
not been so tedious and overwhelming and heartbreaking.

The front lines finally met each other, an explosion of
sound beginning immediately as blade met blade and curses slammed into armor.
Everyt bec became completely hectic in the blink of an eye, and he found
himself face to face with a blank white mask. Not thinking, his mind as numb as
his heart, the Killing Curse spilled from his lips with long practice. That was
another thing that he hadn't expected, but the generals said that it was
necessary, and he supposed that it was. It didn't stop every death he caused
from weighing on his spirit like a ton of heavy, crushing stones, however. The
Death Eater fell anothnother two replaced it.

For what felt like years, he cursed and punched and kicked
every hooded figure in sight, a desperate ache to live filling his limbs and
soul unlike any he had ever felt before. One Light mage fell every few seconds,
and all he could see were their bodies littering the ground, the foul horde that
was attacking them trampling them into the muddy snow. A roar came from his
right and he nearly screamed when he saw that Voldemort had brought giants with
him, a whole clan from what it looked like. Vicious snarls were also getting
closer, and he noticed the werewolves for the first time as well. We're all going to die. It was all he
could think.

And then�Then he heard drums, deep and low and striking him
to his very core. He thought, at first, that some new horror of Voldemort's was
coming, since the enemy army suddenly stopped fighting and turned to the where
the noise was coming from as if given a silent command. Despair eating at him
cruelly, he closed his eyes for the barest moment. When he opened them again,
they were completely surrounded. Banners of black, purple, green and silver
flew from the ends of spears and staffs, from horses' saddles and the warriors'
hair. Those to the north and west bore the silver swords of the Malfoys, and
those to the south and east the black swords of the Zabinis.

Shocked stupid, it took him a long moment to realize that
what he was seeing was real. Many had said they were dead, while many others
had sworn that they were alive, but no one had known the truth of it. Seeing
the thousands of riders and foot soldiers alike with them, Dean suddenly
realized where most of the missing people had gone. Their numbers didn't equal
the Dark Lord's, but he'd been gathering followers for a lot longer than two
months. But there was still one nagging question: Which side were they here to
fight for? Or did they fight for themselves, not on the side of good or evil
but in some dark area all their own?

Two figures rode out, one from the northwest and one from
the southeast, and he recognized the symbols of their Houses next to the
others. Parkinson beside Malfoy; McGregor beside Zabini. Both lifted an arm,
sword in hand, and the drums beat ever louder, like the pulse of the earth
itself. Then those arms came down and both sections surged forward. Everyone
around him seemed to snap out of their daze, and the Dark Lord's army ignored
the Light witches and wizards, their full attention locked onto the true
threat. The figure that he supposed was Anton threw out a hand as the army
neared them, and there was a flash of silver on his hand.

A second later, a huge wall of darkfire slammed into the
front lines, Death Eaters falling to ash in moments. A second blast came from
the one he thought to be Pansy, and then the charging troops met those waiting
for them. Their spells were strong,
as were their shields, and the first dents appeared in the sea of masked
fighters. A curse whizzed past his head and he cursed himself for becoming so
distracted. But they had a chance now, even if they were still vastly
outnumbered, and he saw the people from his own group beginning to get their
will back. Flinging hexes with more accuracy, he nearly got trampled by a
rampaging giant.

"Come back alay,lay, you bloody big oaf!" A voice
threaded with laughter called, and he turned to see three of his old schoolmates
chasing after the giant on horseback, spears and wands in hand and intent
smiles on their faces.

Sebastian, Marcello and Melody all sped by him without a
glance, and Melody threw her spear seconds later, embedding it in the back of
the giant's knee. It bellowed and crashed to the ground,ashiashing quite a few
people in the process, and they were swarming over it moments later, seeming to
know exactly where to impale it in order to cause the most damage. Its eyes
were the first to go, then three powerful strikes to the back of the neck and a
particularly vicious one somewhere along its vertebrae. And before he even knew
what he was doing, he was running to help. He'd probably have a better chance
of survival sticking with them if they'd let him.

"How can I help?" He called out over the deafening
noise all around him, watching with a bit of awe as Melody used a long lock of
the thing's hair to swing around and shove her sword into its temple. The giant
finally stopped trying to throw them off, but it wasn't fully dead either. Then
she jumped off and landed in front of him, and the dark joy in her eyes was
slightly scary. She must have seen the thoughts running across his face, for
she answered them all as if she was inside his head.

"It's paralyzed. Temple
shots do that to them. And I don't particularly care if you follow us around,
as long as you don't get in the way, Gryffindor."
The word was said in a way that showed exactly how little she trusted him, and
somehow also conveyed the fact that she wouldn't think twice about killing him.

Wondering if all Slytherins were so deadly and strange, he
was starting to think that maybe the others had had the right idea in staying
as far away from them as possible all of these years. Sebastian and Marcello were
soon on the ground next to them, and were already anxious to get moving again.
They said nothing about haggiagging along, but their venomous looks spoke
volumes. Death Eaters fell before them, the fighting hard and nasty, and they
used curses he'd never even heard of before. He assisted them as much as he
could, taking out more than a few himself, when something dawned on him.
Looking around, he voiced his question as threw yet another hex.

"Where are Malfoy and Zabini? I see their banners
everywhere, but not them."

"It's none of your concern." Sebastian said
curtly, spinning and skewering a witch that was sneaking up on him with a long
blade in her hand. They broke through another group, Dean leaving his question
alone for now, before they found themselves in a bit of a jam. Literally. A
whole score of Death Eaters had been blocked in by a large pile of giant flesh,
and Marcello's blasting charm to get through had aed ted them all to their
presence. The Slytherins didn't look too worried, but Dean was. There were too many, they needed to get back out and on
more open ground, they needed�

"They come!" Melody's shout broke off his
thoughts, and he and the others, even the Death Eaters, turned to where she was
pointing, up and to the left.

A thunderous roar broke through the loud crashing of steel
and spells just as they raised their heads, and a gigantic black dragon swooped
overhead, bearing a rider that had unmistakable mercury hair. At least twenty
more appeared over the tops of the trees in the distance, flying fast and hard
for the battling armies. Each had a rider upon its back, but none of the beasts
were as large as the one that Malfoy was on. The first lava-bright blast of
fire streamed from it, lighting up the field and showing the other groups converging
on them from every side. Now the
numbers were even, and he couldn't help but gawk for a moment.

Zabini was flying, literally flying, at the head of the largest group of Dementors he hadr
sr
seen. He hadn't even known there were
that many of the creatures. And Zabini had fucking wings, huge, black-feathered
wings, and he wondered if shapeshifting could do that, or if it was something
more. And from the other side, he could clearly make out Ginny's hair, as well
as wings the same color of shocking scarlet to either side of her as she
swooped down with a horde of what could only be vampires. To her right, a few
hundred yards away, was Padma Patil, wings er oer own the color of rosewood
fanning the air behind her as she led a group of great cats and Nundu.

"Oh god." He mumbled to no one in particular, more
flashes of molten fire blazing all around them as screams rent the air. This
had definitely not been in his visions of the these creatures of terror and
old tales. He had seen a lot since finding out that he was a wizard, but
this�This was like living a legend, a myth. And maybe he was. This battle would
certainly be remembered for ages to come, no matter who won.

"Come on!" He heard Marcello shout, and he turned
to see the other Death Eaters that had been around them all dead.

The Slytherhad had gotten quite a few, but the giant tigers
seemed to have done their fair share as well. Marcello and the other two
Slytherins were approaching those tigers, and they would have died had they not
held out amulets from underneath their armor. The cats became almost docile at
once, and stayed perfectly still while the three Slytherins mounted them. Only
then did he notice the harnesses that all of the cats were wearing, each of
which wound up and around the Slytherins' bodintilntil they were securely
fastened to the cats' backs, leaving their hands free. Then they were shooting
past him, and his world flipped upside down.

The next thing he knew, he was on one of the cats behind
Melody, the straps of the leather harness twining around him as well.
Everything around them was a blur, and he was pretty sure that he was about to
be sick. Great. Then they were slowing, and he felt the cat's powerful muscles
bunch underneath them before it sprung, crashing down on two Death Eaters as if
they were nothing more than exceptionally large mice. Blood sprayed up in a
wide arch, splattering across his face and doing nothing to help his nausea,
and the sword in Melody's hand came down quickly, taking off one's head while the
cat gutted the other.

"Can you use this?" Melody called over her
shoulder, motioning at a long, coiled whip at her waist.

He nodded once, pretty sure that he could do what he knew
she wanted him to. He unclasped the whip and the cat started moving again at a
gentle command from the blood-soaked girl in front of him, and the next Death
Eater he saw found itself being drug behind them as they sped along, darting in
and out of the others fighting all around them. Sebastian and Marcello were
flanking them, obviously keeping an eye on Melody, and he wondered if the girl
knew what they were doing. He decided that she probably did, since even he had
seen how protective Slytherin males tended to be, and he almost guaranteed that
she was used to it.

Hanging onto the whip's grip as tightly as he could, he
could feel it rubbing his hands raw and knew that he would have to let go soon.
But almost as if the whip knew what he was thinking, it unwound itself from the
Death Eater's legs and he pulled it in. Melody was hacking at anyone that dared
to come near them, and the cat itself was incredibly lethal, its teeth and
claws ripping right through spelled armor. Reattaching the whip to her waist,
he wasted no time in getting out his wand. Briefly wishing that he'd trained
with the pureblooded Gryffindors and learned how to use a sword like some of
the muggleborns had done, he concentrated and shot the Killing Curse again.

The sky suddenly lit up right in front of them, and Melody
reined the cat in sharply as Zabini came into view, twenty feet in the air and
encircled in a crackling, flashing ball of lightning. Melody smiled vivaciously
and grabbed her amulet, saying something and tapping it with her wand before
grabbing his hand. He nearly fell over as power unlike any he'd ever felt
swarmed through him like a hive of rapid bees, and he was sure that his skin
would split open from the intensity of it. The wind had picked up, whipping
past them and howling like a multitude of lost souls, centered around the
glowing figure of the dark-winged Slytherin.

"I�" He tried to say that the magic was too much,
but he couldn't form the words. She understood, though, and looked at him
knowingly.

"It's because you're not pure." She said, and he probably
would have taken offence at any other time. "Now hold on and brace
yourself."

He barely had time to register the warning and wrap his
hands in the straps of the harness before Zabini appeared to explode. But it
wasn't really him; it was the electricity
racing around him. It blew out from him in all directions, completely
obliterating everything in a hundred-yard radius. He only vaguely saw Zabini
swooping away, not looking in the least bit exhausted after that burst of
energy, and glanced around where they were. The energy had rushed over and
around them, and he was guessing it had something to do with the amulet Melody
had activated. It had been like being inside of an electrical storm, up close
and personal.

The only other people in the immediate vicinity still
standing where those who had the glo glowing shields around them, and he
wondered exactly what kind of monsters they'd been sharing a school with. He
had never imagined a show of power like that one, hadn't imagined that such
levels of magical energy could even exist. It was not a pleasant way to find
out that they could. He didn't even have time to re-gather his sensibility
before they were zooming off again, right back into the thick of it. His
thoughts still spinning, his curses spilled from him with him barely even
thinking about them, and he didn't notice their lessening effect until Melody
hit him.

"Get your shit together or get off!" She yelled,
and he snapped back to reality, sending her a sheepish look that she ignored
after rolling her eyes, the lashes of which were sticky with drying blood.

The 'drying' part was soon remedied as another fell beneath
her sword, and he lost track of time completely, the battle raging around him
as he tried his damnedest to avoid dying while guarding the girl's back at the
same time. He might have discovered a healthy dose of fear for Slytherins
recently, but she had still helped him, no matter how rudely she had gone about
it. And he couldn't help admiring her grace and efficiency, no matter how brutal.
Kicking one grasping Death Eater in the face, he nearly dropped his wand when
he saw Pansy Parkinson slice a wizard's head in half with one fell stroke.

He'd thought that Melody was soaked in gore; hell, he'd even
thought that he was, but he was proven
wrong as he saw her fighting back to back with Anton McGregor, their eyes
shining fiercely with a blood lust that he knew nothing of. Both looked as if
they'd been skinned, the thick red fluid dripping off of them in streaming
rivulets, and their mounts were nowhere to be seen. Sebastian and Marcello were
at their sides in seconds, and they traded off wordlessly, as if they were so
in tune with one another that they had no need for more than a shared look.
Pansy and Anton leapt onto the cats' backs, and took off once they'd cleared a
path, leaving complete mayhem in their wake.

Startled at the quick exchange, he nearly missed a werewolf
creeping up behind them. The cat didn't miss it though, and it spun in a
whirlwind of sharp claws and furious swipes. As it was spinning, a Death Eater
grabbed his robes and pulled, slashing out with a blade and cutting through the
harness. He fell back hard, barely seeing Melody go down as well, and he was
rolling to the side a second before that sword came down where his head had
just been. Then a dagger had planted itself it the Death Eater's mask, and it
fell backwards almost comically slow. There was no time to thank the girl for
shaving his life.

They got separated quickly, the tide of fighting sweeping
them back and forth across the field, aherehere were so many people, so many
grappling and struggling and bleeding and dying�He hated war. But he hated the
idea of Voldemort ruling much more, and it drove him to continue even though
all he wanted to do was lie down and pretend that this mass slaughter wasn't
happening. The ground shook behind him and he spun around to see Malfoy leaping
off of his dragon, a pair of metallic silver wings carrying him through the
air, a flaming sword covered in icy flames in each hand. He picked someone up
and deposited them on the dragon's back before landing.

The Death Eaters actually started running, and Malfoy's
laughter was like a funeral dirge that egged them on. Holding out one sword, he
spun in a circle and Dean hit the ground before the stream of white-blue energy
could cut him in half like it was the others. It was as if he held an
impossibly bright flashlight, and its beam was like a lightsaber
out of Star Wars. And still he laughed, wild and somewhat free, but Dean only looked
up when that brilliant radiance died down. He was surprised to see that
Malfoy's eyes weren't their usual silver but a vibrant, bloody crimson, and
then he was flying back into the fray, gone in a flash as if he'd never been
there.

Blackened, hacked-up bodies surrounded him, and he saw that
only a handful of others not wearing amulets had survived that swift attack.
One was on the ground beside and and he saw that it was a wounded Death Eater.
Raising his wand, something stopped him and he looked harder. Familiar hair was
poking out from underneath the hood, and he pushed it back, horror filling
every cell as inch after inch of that hair was revealed. Wanting to cry out in
denial, he ripped the dirty mask off and met a pair of familiar brown eyes that
were glazed over with pain. Feeling as if he'd just been stabbed, he could do
nothing for a long while.

"Hermione?" He finally croaked, so many things
running through his mind, memories of studying with her and trusting her, of all people, to never betray
them.

But here she was in Death Eater robes, and�Oh god. He was
going to be ill, seriously, seriously ill. The Dark Mark blazed on her pale
skin, black and scabby, spilt through with ctedcted yellow pus. It was too
much. Leaning away, he threw up until he couldn't anymore, the bile nowhere
near as rancid as the festering wounds in his soul. This was Hermione, Girl
Wonder and Miss I-Can-Do-No-Wrong. Hermione, who'd always stuck by Harry and
Ron through everything until they'd turned on her. Hermione, who he'd wanted to
ask out once they'd graduated, but the war had started and she'd disappeared
when so many others had, too�

Except that she hadn't 'disappeared' like most of the
others. She had no green or silvebbonbbons braided into her hair, no purple or
black sashes tied anywhere on her person. She had no second lying dead next to
her or trying to help her as he'd noticed all of those fighting for Malfoy and
Zabini had. All she had was that hideous brand and a gaping hole in her left
side. Three simultaneous explosions sounded behind them, people were once more
rushing madly by, and he still had no idea how long he'd been kneeling there,
his world having crumbled in the span of a single meeting of eyes. And she was
looking back at him.

"So sorry." She managed to choke out, and he could
feel the tears rising in his throat. "I tr-tried
to f-fight it, fight h-him. I did, I sw-sweauot;uot;
Her words cut worse than any sword, and for the first time, he couldn't believe
her.

And he didn't know what to do. Another explosion rocked the
earth and rent the air, closer that time, and Hermione's eyes squeezed shut as
she was jolted around. Some part of him still hated to see her in pain, because
even with the Mark on her arm and the mask at her side, she was still Hermione, and damn it all if didn't
still love her. That thought finally
had tears streaking down his cheeks, and he felt more lost than he ever had in
his life. Her hand tried to clasp his and he was helpless to stop it,
completely shell-shocked at a time when he couldn't afford it. The fighting was
growing thick around them once more, and it was probably a matter of seconds
before he was seen.

"Run!" He heard someone shout, and a group of
Death Eaters sped right past them, fleeing from something or someone.

He saw who it was moments later, and realized where the
explosions must have been coming from. Because Ginny was coated in flames,
those scarlet wings beating snow into the air as she hovered above the ground,
chasing the Death Eaters as if it were nothing more than a game, flames a
darker red than any he'd ever seen flickering in her fists as she threw ball
after ball of them easily and precisely. She spotted Dean and grinned, a
somehow feline baring of sharp fangs that in no way comforted him. Then she
spotted who he was kneeling over, and she came towards them, tweaking every
instinct that he had, making him feel like he'd be safer away from her
altogether.

"Hermione?" The fiery girl called, and that voice
slid over his skin like a velvet caress, dark and smooth and utterly dangerous,
and he recoiled from it, feeling like a rabbit lost in a leopard's den.

That feeling wasn't helped when he saw the three gigantic Nundu pacing at her floating heels, each bearing a vampire
on its back. And not just any vampires, oh no, not for her guard. Dean had developed quite a fascination with the
creatures over the years, and he knew that the tattoos around their eyes and
running down the sides of their faces marked them as favorites of the Ancients,
the Old Ones' most elite warriors. What vampire had made her and her boyfriends
for them to warrant such a high sign of favor? The other vampires he could
understand, but these were rumored to never leave their select master's side.

"Is she hurt? What's wrong?" Ginny asked, growing
ever closer.

Wondering how much this betrayal would mean to her, he moved
out of the way soundlessly, something in his core bidding him to make way for
her. That same something made him want to kiss them hems of her bloody robes as
she neared him, made him want to clean the gore off of her armor with the
utmost care and attentiStarStartled, he seemed to snap out of whatever haze had
fogged his thoughts, though the desires stayed strong within him. He had no
idea what was making him act in such a way, but it was disturbing and spooky
and�right. Bone-numbingly right in a
way that few things had ever been.

She terrified him, but he still wanted nothing more than to
serve her as he fell into those charcoal eyes. It had nothing to do with lust
or sex, for even thinking of it seemed somehow wrong and made him feel filthy,
as if he'd just spit in the face of a god. To touch her with his unworthy hands
would be the greatest of treasons, and he would set fire to all the world's
temples before that happened. He had no idea what was making all of these
things suddenly root themselves inside of him, but they were there and they
were strong. He noticed others falling to their knees as she passed, their
faces lit with the same confusion and wonder that he himself was feeling.

"Answer her!" One of the vampires snapped, reining
the Nundu up right in front of him and splashing him
with bloody snow. Meeting the creature's eyes, the complete lack of humanity in
them made him feel cold all over again in a way that had nothing to do with the
snow. The vampire hissed when he stayed silent, and words were soon spilling
from him in a torrent.

"I was fighting with Melody but we got separated after
she saved my life, and then Malfoy came out of nowhere on a dragon and got off,
killing everyone and laughing, and I got as low as I could and then I looked up
and he was heading into the worst part of the fighting, to the east, and his
eyes were red, and then I got up and
I saw her, and�and�and oh, fuck, I'm going to be sick again." Just
thinking of the Dark Mark on Hermione's arm was enough to make him dry heave,
and he could feel the disgusted stares of the vamp dri drilling into him.

"He's gone Godridden. Gods can do that with those of
their Chosen thre tre the same gender as they are."
She said absently, and he supposed that she was referring to Draco and his
strange eyes. "Now, what else is wrong? Why are you so upset?"

He lifted his eyes to hers and let all of his internal agony
fill them, knowing instinctually that she would see and understand. She did,
and her darkly ringed eyes went dead and cold in seconds, at wit with the
scorching heat rolling off of her. She fell to her knees beside Hermione and he
wanted to stop her, to tell her that it was somehow obscene to see her on her
knees for any reason, and he'd even reached out to touch her shoulder when he
suddenly found a bladed staff at his throat. The female vampire holding it and
the Nundu underneath her both flashed fangs at him,
and he drew his hand back instantly.

"Please, no." Ginny said, and then she reached out
and pushed Hermione's sleeve up, while the brown-haired girl looked at her with
horrified, fearful, guilt-filled eyes.

The Dark Mark shone sickly in the open air once more, and
the vampires moved forward swiftly to kill her. But Ginny raised a small,
delicate, deadly hand and they stopped immediately, although they didn't look
too happy about it. It was obvious that they wanted nothing more than to split
Hermione open from end to end, and Dean was glad that Ginny had stopped them,
because he knew he would never have been able to get over seeing something like
that. Hermione and Ginny kept their eyes locked together for a good while
before the fire-haired girl pulled away and closed hers mournfully. He could
see her conflict, and wondered.

<
<
'Will she kill her?'

��....

'Will I kill her?'

Dean would have been distressed to know that Virginia
was thinking much the same thing as him. The Dark Mark on Hermione's arm was
her death sentence. To see it so clearly on her, to feel it and its foul touch�It was death on sight, an order straight
from the mouths of her lovers. And, technically, she and her House still served
under them unless they married. She knew that they would usually have played
blatant favoritism and made an exception for her, and Draco might still if she
could find the right way to press her case. But Blaise would never forgive this,
no matter how sweet her words or what pleas fell from her lips.

And truthfully, looking down at a girl who'd been her friend
for a very long time, she didn't know if she thought it worth begging for in
the first place. That vile skull leered up at her, and it wasn't just her rage
that poured through her, but her god's as well. Divine fury was like a drug,
and though she and Padma couldn't become Godridden like her boyfriends since
they were female, they could still channel their Lord to a certain extent. And
even He agreed that the girl should
die, and that Blaise would have her heart as soon as he learned of her
treachery. Dean was looking at her intently, and she raised her eyes to his and
watched him fidget for a moment.

"You love her." It was not a question, and he
seemed to know that, so he just nodded. "I'm sorry."

"What? You�You're not going to kill her, are you? Ginny, that's Hermione." He stressed, searching her face. But her features
stayed blank and he pulled back, shivering even though her heat had long melted
all of the snow around them. Rising to her feet, she made her decision, the
only one that she could make. She was bound too tightly by love and respect and
devotion to do anything else.

"You'll have a better chance if you leave with her now.
It will not be my hand that kills her, but I will not stop Blaise when he comes
for her, either. He made her a promise, and he never breaks those."

Then she was gone, shooting back up into the air with wings
that were a gift from her Lord and the Morningstar. Pain and rage ate at her,
and she wondered how many more people would betray her before she decided to
Pass. Knowing the long centuries that spread out before her, she knew that it
was inevitable. Sickened at the thought, she let the fury grab her again, and
sunk into battle madness. Her vampire guard, supplied by Neithotep, followed
her on the ground, and she waited until she was in the center of a large group
of fighting before calling her power to her. It beat in time with her heart,
pulsing over her skin, and she reveled in it.

Like moths drawn to a flame, her lovers shot up out of the
fray and into the night sky. Their Marks tingled, and Padma rose above the rest
as well, until they formed a huge diamond. She had planned on blasting a few
scores of them on her own, but their Lord was ready to make an appearance, and
the Marks guided them almost subconsciously. Glowing like hovering stars, each
held out their arms and let the power reach toward the other until a diamond of
dark light was visible, stretching from one to the other. Those underneath them
wanted to run but found themselves frozen in place. Still the power grew,
beginning to leak from the lines to the center.

They rose higher, higher, until she felt the first clouds
brushing against her skin, and then a portal opened between them, and Cocidius
came out of it in all of his dark, golden glory. Screams split ten tense air,
and continued as Lucifer came out on His heels, then Hades, Osirus and
Afallach, Pluto and Hodur, Isis and Persephone, Macha,
Holle and Proserpine. The Dark Royals appeared before humans for the first time
in ages, and every one of them dropped their weapons and fell to their knees.
Still gods and goddesses poured out of the portal with unmatched grace, Mars
and Ares and Thanatos, Anuke and Am-Heh, Loki and Neptune,
Skadi and Donn and Taranis.

Still they kept coming, until the sky was full of them, and
she recognized many of those from the Light Court. All of the High Queens of
Heaven had come, but none of their Kings. The reason for it reached her through
her Mark, and her ire burned ever hottern shn she heard what Dagda had done to
them. Damn the Bane! The High Kings of the Sky Realm were lost to them unless
the Bane was destroyed, because Dagda had turned it against them and half of
Heaven in one fell swoop. Only the Queens' shielding had
saved the others and allowed them to escape. And Dagda was coming; she could
feel it through her connection to Cocidius.

The gods formed into ranks in the sky, and she, her lovers
and Padma broke formation and went to their head, dropping to their knees
before their Lord in midair. He ran a glowing, spectral hand over them
lovingly, and they trembled at His nearness. Then the sky on the other side of
the field split open, four figures in the air on that side as well, and she
knew that she was getting her first glimpse of the Dark Lords that they were
meant to fight. The light and clouds around them obscured her vision, but she
knew that she would meet them face-to-face soon enough. She ached for it in a
way; some part of her wished for nothing more than to kill them all.

She watched as the opposing, tainted gods slid out of the
other side, and saw the disgust of the divine beings all around her. With the
other gods' appearance, Voldemort's army seemed to get their bearings back, and
the fighting started again, though many couldn't help their eyes wandering to
the sky filled with legends. Faintly, then growing louder, she could hear those
of their forces raising their voices in worship and joy, even as they tried not
to die. Knowing that the gods still existed due to one's Chosen walking the
earth was one thing, but seeing them spread out above them was something
entirely different, especially for the purebloods.

&;Go,;Go, my Chosen." Cocidius
said, a low roll of divinity sliding through them like a caress. "Thy
people need thee among them on the earth, as mine need me in the sky. We will see one another again." He
said when He felt their reluctance to leave His side. "Now go, and know
that fate moves with thee." They nodded once, sent Him their reverence and
love, and turned to leave. The last thing they heard as they dove for the
ground was Lucifer's sensual, modern drawl.

"As it moves with you,
Cocidius? Should you rip the High Crown from Dagda's brow, you will be�"

They heard no more, the ground rushing up to meet them, and
wings fanned out to either side, slowing their descent until their feet hit the
ground. Two scarlet streaks shot out of the frantic mass of fighting, and both
twins were soaked in red, dripping blood, grinning madly with battle lust.
Wordlessly, they surrounded Padma and left with her to the right, while
Virginia, Draco and Blaise set off to the left. People were looking at them so
strangely; they'd been doing it before, but now it was ten times worse. And
their warriors were kneeling and abandoning fights all over the place whenever
they passed by, as if they simply couldn't help themselves.

Realizing swiftly that them staying on the ground simply
wouldn't work, since just the sight of them seemed to be enough to make most
lose their heads completely, they took to the air again, swooping in and out of
the crazed Dementors that hadn't fed so well since the Grindelwald Wars. Targeting
a group of giants that had pulled one of the dragons out of the sky and had it
and its rider backed against a pile of their own dead kin, blocking the
dragon's flames with huge, rough-looking shields, they converged on them as
one, ice, fire and lightning melding together into one cohesive, lethal force.
The giants were dead before they even had time to see what hit them.

The rider called a hurried, but genuine, thanks to them
before shooting back into the air, and they saw Charlie's familiar hair flash
in the light of more dragon fire to the side of them. Banking to the right,
they went in a circle and sent their senses out to see where they were most
needed. A pack of werewolves was wreaking havoc not too far away, and feral
grins spread across their faces. Killing those particular traitors was fun and
gave them a deep sense of satisfaction, and Neithotep rose in them when she
sensed their prey. They landed lightly, uncaring of their effect on others for
the moment as their werewolves noticed them, amber eyes filling with loathing.

"Come on, puppies. Try your luck." Draco taunted,
sheathing his swords and moving for them.

The first sprung and found its throat ripped out a second
later, Draco's movement nothing more than a blur, even to her eyes. The others
attacked at once, and she and Blaise sheathed their blades as well, the
opportunity of hand-to-hand combat with the wolves too tempting to pass up. Two
came at her from either side, and the first got a boot to the face as she
snatched the second up by thck ock of its neck and shook it, hearing bones
crack under her fingers with the vicious movement. The other was on her a
second later, and she let it ride her to the ground before leaning up and
kissing the side of its dripping muzzle.

It crumbled to ash on top of her, and a third tried to get
her while she was down. She moved n mus muscle until it was flying at her, then
rolled at the last second and let it crash to the ground before leaping on its
back. Wrapping a hand in the shaggy fur of its head she yanked it back and
bared its throat before sinking fangs into it and holding on tightly as it
bucked underneath her. The powerful blood slid through her, tasting of revenge
and old debts, and she let the wolf's body slid lifeless back to the ground
moments later. Quick feedings always gave her a rush, and she got back to her
feet in one liquid, energetic movement.

"There's another over there." She heard Blaise
point out, a pile of dead wolves surrounding him as he looked over her shoulder
at the stray.

He and Draco moved to her side and she spun to see the one
he spoke of. Recognition swirled in some part of her mind and she felt, for a
moment, like she shouldn't kill that one, but the instinctual hatred that
churned inside of her was too strong. They moved for him at once, and he was
too busy fighting to notice. He looked to be fighting against the Death Eaters, but the scent of the wolf was too thick
on him for her to follow that thought. Their grins growing wider, they were
less than three feet behind him when he killed the one he was fighting and
turned to them with honey-colored eyes that enraged them even farther.

"Ginny?" He asked, before his nostrils flared and
his eyes locked onto her bared fangs. That primordial fury filled his own eyes,
and he lifted a hand to strike her when someone else grabbed it and yanked him
backwards. He fell into Sirius, whose eyes were wild with fear, though not for
himself. The darker haired man pushed the werewolf back behind him, and Ginny
wanted to protest and tell him that the thing couldn't be trusted at his back,
but Sirius spoke first.

"Please, don't." He said, meeting each of their
eyes in turn. "It's Lupin, it's Moony. He's all
I have left. He was here fighting for the Light. Please."

"Sirius�" Blaise started in a low voice, obviously
struggling with himself; clawed fingers twitching with the need to cut the
werewolf open and watch it bleed.

But there was a blast of dark power behind them, and the
werewolf was of no concern when they turned and saw who came toward them. Three
figures wreathed in darkfire were headed straight for them, killing everyone in
their path, even their own warriors. Voldemort was the one in the middle, that
much was obvious. He looked fully healed, expect his blood-red eyes looked as
if the irises had been cut into sections, shot through with white, the only
sign of the poison's damaging effects. He had a smug grin on his face, and when
the Dark Lords to either side of him turned to face them, they saw why. It was
impossible, yet true all the same.

Both had wings stretching to either side, but they were not
feathered, but made like a bat's, all leathery and thin, nearly see-through.
They were the color of rusted blood and had clawed tips that dripped with toxic
fluids that ate through the snow at their feet. They were the same height and
built identically, completely like the other but for their coloring. The one to
the left had hair of spun silver that glinted in the starlight, the other locks
of the deepest black that ate it instead. Eyes of mercury and indigo ran over
them expectantly, as if judging their worth in the same way that they
telveelves were being judged.>
>

But it was not all of that that was impossible, nor was their
likeness to each other. It was the fact that they were carbon copies of her
lovers that sent chills down her spine. Those were Draco's eyes staring at her
as if she were nothing but a powerful prize; Blaise's face that gazed at her
with nothing but dislike etched across his features. It was unsettling and
disturbing, and she took her lovers' hands in hers as if for confirmation that
they were next to her and not standing before her, reeking of evil and tainted
blood. She could feel her lovers close themselves off behind unbreakable mental
walls, and when the two who looked exactly like them stepped forward and spoke
in unison, each looking at his counter-part, she felt the world become unsteady
underneath her feet.

"Hello, brother."

��..

(laughs evilly) You know you love me! Now, please REVIEW!!!!

mal>
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