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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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Disclaimer: I own nothing!

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

French translations: ((example))

Author's Note: I'm going to start responding to reviews at the
beginning of each new chapter. But as not to take up too much space, it will be
directed only to those who review the chapter before. Anyone who reviewed
before should know that their comments were extremely appreciated, but this was
a recent idea.

So, this story is dedicated to the Angelfire33, who requested it. To slackerchick101, Salazar will be fully explained later, I promise.
He was young in the picture on purpose, please just bear with me. To Jan, I hope that your question was answered in this chap! To tkmoore, I appreciate your reviews more
than just about any! You're the best! Iced
Faerie, thank you so much! To a-sam,
I'm really glad you like it! To Kat Davi,
there's no need to be ashamed! I had a first time, too! (Note: that may have
sounded�wrong, but it wasn't meant to be!) To periodi-scuri, thank you! To Meryl12,
yes, yes they are stupid! To AmYzA,
thank you! To power of the stars,
you're another of my favorite reviewers! Thank you so much! To TarynMalfoy88, you're awesome! Thanks!
To Shadow Psi, another awesome
reviewer who I adore! To san-lee,
thanks! I'm glad someone else felt like I did! Now on to the story!

��..

Virginia wrapped her thick
velvet cloak tighter around her, the chilly night air creeping down her neck.
She could have made herself warmer with a thought, but she had learned to
appreciate the cold. One would think she would have been warm anyway,
considering that she was squeezed comfortably between two young men, but it
wasn't as if they were giving off any
body heat. And it had been warm in
the private carriage that had brought them to Hogsmeade, the frigid air only
coming into effect once they'd gotten out. The air was sweet, though, and its
coldness was refreshing. It smelled alive, smelled like freedom, and she silently thanked Dumbledore once again for let
th
them come.

Before, they had planned on sneaking out, Draco and Blaise having
assured her that there were plenty of ways to leave the castle undetected, but
after that day, the Headmaster had
agreed that it would be good for them. That and the fact that their mothers'
venomous glares had been enough persuasion for anyone. Virginia had been surprised
once she'd regained herself that day, when she'd learned that her mother seemed
to have formed some strange bond with Narcissa and Silana. Draco and Blaise had
been equally puzzled, but so far, they had had no further insight as to what
had caused it, simply coining it as 'weird mother shit' that they probably
didn't really want to know about in the first place.

They did, however, know that the three women had been brunching
together every day this last week, which had managed to thoroughly freak out
their families almost as much as Virginia's own relationship
with Blaise and Draco had. And their families were taking that better than the three of them had expected, which probably had
a lot to do with the whole 'dying' factor. She didn't think her brothers or
father would have taken it so�quietly, let alone the other Malfoys and Zabinis,
if they hadn't just come back from the dead with a god's Mark plastered on them
for all to see. But to say that any of them were pleased�Well, that would
be a blatant lie. Except for their mothers, apparently. They seemed to be utterly
thrilled, which was still rather�disturbing, seeing as they'd hated each other
little more than a week ago.

After all, the rift between the Weasleys and those two particular
families was deep. Pushing such thoughts from her head, she looked up as a gust
of warm air hit her. They had reached the office building that was their first
stop, which was why they had left at seven. Draco and Blaise had business to
deal with before their dinner reservations at eight
thirty, and had told her she was more than welcome to come along,
although she was probably going to be bored out of her mind. They'd offered to
handle it first and come back to get her, but she'd opted to stay with them
rather than listen to her brother harp on for another hour, as she had known he
would do if she stayed. So here they were, walking into a posh, elegant waiting
room as the ghost doorman ushered them in.

She'd passed this building many times while visiting Hogsmeade,
but had never been inside of it before. The sign out front bearing the symbols
of Draco and Blaise's families were warning enough for any Weasley to stay away
even if they'd had the money or station to enter it in the first place. It was a
beautifully decorated room, the high-vaulted ceiling painted with moving murals
and the carpet so thick your feet sunk into its silky mass silently. Leather
couches were scattered around the huge room, marble end tables and comfortable
chairs accompanying them. The many candles, torches and fireplaces gave off a
bright, flickering light, making the room appear almost cozy. Silver, diamonds and
emeralds glinted at her from everywhere, catching the light and throwing it
back in multi-hued rainbows.

Huge, Roman style pillars encircled the room, which itself was a
sphere. Numerous doorways led from the room, two goblins stationed at each one.
A long, ebony desk stretched across one whole end of the room, behind which sat
four stiff-looking witches who all had their heads down, busy working on
something or other. The goblins bowed as the three of them passed each doorway
on their way to a side door, but how they knew it was Draco and Blaise under
their cloaks, Virginia didn't know. She
couldn't help continuing to look around as they moved, admiring the priceless
paintings, sculptures and vases that were placed throughout the room. Almost
everything, besides some of the art, was black, green, silver, purple, blue or
blood red, and the colors were all dark, primary shades, none of the lighter
ones.

"Stop right there!" A high voice called out as Draco
lent forward to open the door they'd finally reached. She saw a smirk grace his
features under the shadowy, concealing hood, and knew that he was pleased they'd
been stopped. All four witches stormed up to them, wands out and furious scowls
on their faces.

"I don't know who in Chaos you think you are," a pretty brunette snapped, "or why the hell those damn
goblins didn't stop you, but you'll be leaving, now, of your own accord or by way of wand."

"No, we won't." Blaise replied, and something flickered
in the witches' eyes right before the two lowered their hoods. The flicker
turned into fear within the blink of an eye, the suddenness and intensity of it
surprising Virginia. When the four witches
dropped to their knees, she shook her head to make sure she was seeing
everything right.

"�our sincerest apologies, Lord Malfoy, Lord Zabini."
One witch was rambling, her hands shaking visibly. The others followed with
similar utterances, their eyes placed firmly on the floor.

"Please don't tell me that you've all turned into bumbling,
subservient idiots in the last month." Draco stated, glaring at the
witches on the ground. "What the fuck
are you doing? Groveling like mere house-elves?" The wis los looked up
again, their fear melting away at his sharp, sarcastic words.

"We're sorry, my lord, it's just that we didn't know�"
She trailed off, and Blaise sighed.

"Yes, yes." He said, waving a dismissive hand. "Bloody
fucking Chosen and all. Just cut the shit, all right?"
The witches nodded, getting back to their feet, the fear gone. It seemed that
they had just needed reassurance. Which, in their own twisted way, Draco and
Blaise had just given them.

"We're glad to have you back, my lords." One of the
women replied, her hair a shiny auburn.

"Very much so." The forth said, looking at the two young
men with unhidden desire. "If either of you require anything, anything at all, just let me know." She said
huskily, the invitation hanging heavy in the air. The other women nodded in
agreement, and a jealous fury dug claws into Virginia's chest. She threw
back her hood, embers bug ang and growing within her eyes, and delighted in
their shocked, terrified gasps as they recognized her.

"They won't be requiring anything from you." She hissed, sneering as they stumbled backwards,
tripping over each other, their earlier grace gone in a flash. Low chuckles
came from behind her and she spun, glaring at her boyfriends. "Oh, shut up." She said, and stepped through
the door they held open for her, ignoring their amused expressions and the
women's scampering. The door clicked closed behind them, and they walked down a
long hallway that was plain, but in an extravagant way, if that makes any
sense. Reaching another door, she smoothed her cloak down as they answered a
series of riddles, gave four passwords, and then cut their fingers, letting a
drop of their fresh blood smear across the dark wood. Typical Slytherins, she thought to herself. Always paranoid.

"Accepted." Said a voice from nowhere, and the door
disappeared. They walked into the darkness ahead of them, and it uncomfortably
reminded Virginia of the doorway that she
and Draco had been sucked through in Reverie, the door that had killed them.

But there was no shouted warning in her mind, no crushing
darkness, only a swift, tugging sensation before she landed in an office larger
than the main foyer had been and even more richly decorated, the heavy scent of
myrrh invading her nose with its pleasing scent. One entire wall of the room
was made of glass, looking out over a large expanse of choppy water that was
blue even in the moonlight. Thousands of lights twinkled on what seemed to be
an island not too far out and directly beneath them, and they appeared to be
almost forty stories up. Even more stars shown sparkling above them, as the
ceiling was made of the same crystal clear glass that the wall was. She'd never
seen so many before, and the view was absolutely breathtaking.

"It's beautiful." She whispered, walking closer,
completely enchanted. "Where are we?"

"Egypt. Alexandria, to be
specific." Blaise replied, walking up behind her while Draco pushed a
loose stone on the far wall. A light above the stone blinked into existence,
flashed, and went out again.

"Why?" She asked, although she couldn't have cared less
at the moment.

"It's been that way since our great-great-blah grandfathers
became partners. This used to be at the top of a tower, not a building, but
it's always been here." Draco said, meeting them at the window. "There
are six of these main offices, one on each populated continent, and then the
Head branch in France. They're all
Unplottable, and no one else is can enter them without us here, not even our
mothers. All of the smaller offices, like the one we just left, bring us to one
of these, depending on which one you go to. That's what the stone was for. To
let Badru know we had arrived and to allow him inside."

"Did Dumbledore know we were coming here?" She asked, doubting it. They just looked at her.
"Right." She murmured, her eyes stealing back to the gorgeous view.
Thanks to improved eyesight, she could see the people scurrying around below
them clearly, all utterly oblivious that they were being watched by two wizards
and a witch in an invisible building. There was knock from their right, and she
spun around, not even aware that there was
a door. Apparently, not everyone came in the direct way.

"Come in." Blaise called, and the heavy ebony door swung
open. A wizard who looked to be in his mid-thirties walked in, his dark gray
robes sashaying around him and his brown eyes sparkling happily underneath his
black hair. His skin was dark, his bone structure defined, and she could see
the ancient pharaohs in his face. A
native Egyptian, then, she thought to herself, and pureblooded to the last cell if he works for them.

"Good Evening, my lords." The man said, giving a slight
bow. "It is good to see you again."

"It is good to see you as well, Badru." Draco replied.
"Come, let's sit." The man nodded, and they all took seats around the
fireplace. She shared a couch with Draco and Blaise, and the man sat across
from them in a chair.

"We would like you to meet Virginia Weasley." Blaise
said when they were seated. "Virginia, this is Badru. He
keeps no surname as he is a Brother of Nightshade Hall." She nodded and
smiled at the man, gaining respect for him. Nightshade Hall was the oldest and
largest wealth of knowledge left to their world. It was a library and a weapons
hold, a museum and a temple, just among a few things. The Brotherhood was just
as old, fulfilling roles as the Hall's caretakers, scholars, historians and
warriors. Said warriors occasionally, and very selectively, hired themselves
out to those who could afford their well sought-after services in order to keep
money besides donations flowing into the Hall. They were everything in one;
spies and courtesans, educated and deadly, silent and loyal to the death, due
to a blood oath shared after the contract is signed.

"A very interesting profession." She commented. The man
grinned.

"Yes, it is. And I, of course, have heard all about
you." He said. "The Weasley who snared the heirs of her family's most
hated enemies. The world has slept barely a wink in a week because of you
three." Draco and Blaise simply shrugged, obviously not very interested,
and she rolled her eyes. But then again, what was fame to them? They'd been
known worldwide since their births.

"How horrible for
them." Draco said sarcastically, waving a hand, which opened a cupboard on
the far wall. Four glasses and a bottle of wine zipped towards them, settling
easily on the low marble table between them. The bottle poured itself, and each
of them grabbed a glass as it floated towards them at a much more sedated speed
then when they had zoomed across the room.

"So what's first today? It can't be too much as we just
flooed all of those papers to you and the others a few days ago." Blaise
stated, leaning back and wrapping an arm around her. The man took out his wand,
spoke a retrieving spell, and a stack of papers appeared on his lap along with
a self-inking quill.

"Madame Malkin's did well this last trimester, as usual, so
there's not much to worry about there, my lords." He said, rifling through
his papers. "The other clothing branches in Europe are booming, and the
American branches have hit a new high. Globally, for that industry, profits
have never been better. The marketing technique you two came up with has worked
beautifully, my lords."

"Excellent." Draco said, sipping his wine and motioning
for Badru to continue.

"Gladrag's has finally admitted defeat, and wishes to
sell." The man said, which brought triumphant smirks to her boyfriends'
faces. "They want to know what the current offer is." Draco and
Blaise exchanged unconcerned glances.

"Offer twenty million, take it or leave it. Gladrag's isn't
that important, after all. It's more�personal than anything else." Draco
said, and Badru nodded and made a note on one of his papers.

n stn style='font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Verdana;
color:black'>"It will be done, my lord. Now, a manager at one of the
Northwest Canadian diamond mines flooed earlier, and says she found a huge
cache in some hidden ice cave, just as you said she would. She sent this for
you to look at. The bottom figure is the total estimated amount of what the usable
gems found at the site will sell for, at current prices. The jewels are already
at the Ireland office for processing
and marking, and should be ready to cut by the end of the week." Badru
said, and handed them the paper. Blaise took it from him and scanned it quickly
before handing it to Draco. She caught a glimpse of the bottom number and
nearly choked in shock. No fucking way. She'd
never seen so many zeroes in her life. And they didn't even seem fazed as Draco
handed the paper back.

"It'll do." Blaise drawled, pouring Draco another cup of
wine.

"As you say, my lord." Badru replied. "Also, your panel
of obsessive labrats finally popped out the latest prototype. They sent me one
for each of you so you can approve them before they hit your stores next month,
Quality Quidditch Supplies being the first who'll get them in, of course. Since
you mentioned that you might be bringing the lady, they sent one for her, also,
as I thought it would please you." He said, and Draco and Blaise nodded
their approval, showing real interest for the first time. Another wave of his
wand, and three of the most exquisite, gorgeous brooms she had ever seen
appeared hovering in the air before them.

"Wow." She breathed out, her Quidditch-trained mind
whirling in overdrive. The possibilities she could imagine just by looking at
them were immense, and she sighed in longing. They were perfectly aerodynamic,
the handle made of shining ebony, and she could feel the careful, precise magic
that had been painstakingly worked into them. Every twig was shaped beautifully
and all she wanted was to run her hand down the side of it, to feel its weight
in her palm.

"Go on." Blaise urged her. "If they check out okay,
the broom is yours, after all." Feeling giddy, she reached out a shaking
hand and closed her fingers around wood that felt like silk, but somehow still had
a perfect grip. Shocks shot up her arm, ice freezing her cells, and she looked at tat them in surprise.

"Your magic is in them." She said, intrigued.

"Yes." Draco agreed, looking quite smug about it.

"They're even better now then when we first infused them.
Wait until you fly it, Virginia. Nothing like it has
ever been seen before, and you wouldn't believe how little of our energy it
actually takes for each broom." Blaise added, running a hand along his
own. "Other wizards won't even notice."

"They're wonderful." She said, completely sincere. She
had never seen anything she wanted more, except for the two young men beside
her, of course.

"We'll take them out later if you want." Draco offered, smiling
at her before returning eager silver eyes to his broom. She turned hers over in
her hand, the wood solid in her grip, and yet incredibly light. It was
literally almost weightless, and moved at her lightest directing. She noticed
an engraving along the side in silver, which read 'The Element' and grinned. How typically arrogant of them.

"I'd love to." She said. "Are they safe to shrink
like other brooms? Or will it affect them somehow?"

"It's fine. They have all the features the Firebolt Infinity does,
but more. Much more." Draco said, genuine delight in his voice. They're almost like children at Christmas,
she thought, before chastising herself. From what they'd said and what she'd
heard, neither had had an ideal childhood. Or even a real childhood at all.
Every day she looked at them, seeing the bodies of beautiful boys just becoming
men, but their eyes always gave them away. There was nothing young or innocent
or na�ve in those eyes. They could be masters of caring or cruelty at the drop
of a hat, but they had never been children.

"I'm glad you approve so far, my lords." Badru said, and
made another notation. Putting those papers on the bottom, he cleared his throat
and continued as the three of them shrunk their brooms and vanished them. "Oh,
yes. This one's from Ludo Bagman, confirming your usual seats in the mid-field Top
Box foe Que Quidditch World Cup this year. You wish to keep them, yes?" He
asked, his quill poised as if he already knew the answer. Draco and Blaise said
nothing for a moment, then looked at her briefly and grinned in unison.
Suspicious, she waited for their response.

"No." Draco said, and Badru's quill almost fell out of
his hand as he stared at Draco in shock. That was apparently a first.

"We want the entire Box." Blaise finished after a
moment, looking quite pleased about something. Her suspicion grew while Badru
stared for a moment longer.

"T-The entire Box, my lords?"

"Yes." They answered, reaching for the wine again.

"I'll talk to Bagman immediately and see if it can be
arranged." The man said, and their eyes narrowed.

"I'm sure it won't be a problem, will it, Badru?" Draco
asked quietly. Badru paled slightly at the chill creeping into that velvet
voice and shook his head.

"No. No problem at all, my lords."

"Good. See that there isn't."

"Of course, of course." There was more paper shuffling.
"A witch in Tr�polis, Greece, is filing a sexual
harassment lawsuit against the company, claiming that a wizard named Jaston
Clorbale threatened to fire her if she didn't sleep with him. She is willing to settle without a trial,
however."

"How much does she want?" Draco questioned, beginning to
sound bored again.

"Five hundred thousand galleons."

"Make it a million if she'll shut her mouth. Put it in the
contract and make sure that she follows through. Find out if this 'Jaston'
really did do what she says, and if he did, fire him." Blaise said, his
own voice as bland as Draco's.

"Yes, my lord. There is also the matter of a few books that
have been found. A few books that I am sure
you'll be interested in." He said, giving Draco and Blaise a meaningful
look. Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Honestly, were you always
this dense, Badru? You know us better than to think we would bring someone here
who we didn't trust explicitly. Now tell us about these books." Blaise
said, and the interest was back.

"As you wish, my lord. One dates back to the mid-thirteen
hundreds; a catalog of deadly venoms that was banned a century later, most of
the remaining copies burned. It is very nearly, if not completely, one of a
kind. The second is an original copy by Bridget Wenlock's daughter, Mathilda,
on Dark Arthimancy spells the ancients used. The third, well," Badru adopted
his own smug look, "I have found it,
my lords." Draco froze in mid-blink, and Blaise's fingers ceased in twirling
his glass.

"Found what?"
Draco asked, his voice taking on a purr-like quality. Badru looked even more
pleased with himself.

"A book your families have desired for a very long time, my
lords. I found Madkim's last living relative. He had it."

"You found it?" Blaise asked. "You really found
it?"

"Do you have it?" Draco asked at the same time, his eyes
sparkling. She knew they were excited if their natural synchronicity was thrown
off balance.

"Yes." Badru said, grinning from ear to ear.

Another wand flick, and a huge tome fell gently into Draco's
outstretched arms. Blaise smiled at her, one of those genuine smiles that she
loved, and nudged her, urging her to look with them. His blue eyes were lit up
from within, and she couldn't resist kissing him lightly before turning to see
the book. Its cover was made of a thick, black leather, which looked incredibly
old and had to have preservation spells on it. Strong ones, as she could sense
the millennia that the book had seen; she could feel the old power leaking from
its very pages and bindings. It smelt like life and death mixed together, smelt
like blood and tears and pain, but underlain with hope, love and joy. It
reminded her strongly of the feeling she had around Blaise and Draco's book,
the book that had brought her to them, in a way. She was supposed to steal it after all. But this book felt older, much
older, and the power was the same, yet subtly different in an almost
intoxicating way.

"Sweet gods, you have
found it." Blaise whispered, the closest thing to awe she'd ever seen from
him shining in his eyes as he looked upon the book.

"You are so getting
a raise for this, Badru." Draco commented, his voice rich with near-bliss.
She couldn't stop smiling at them, as they were radiant when they were happy.
Which they rarely were these days if outside of Slrin rin House. Looking at the
book again, she noticed that there was a faded, but readable, title. However,
it was not written or engraved. It was as if the words had been bleached into
the leather itself. 'The Book of the Ever
After' was scrawled across the spine, and she sucked in a breath. It couldn't be. Oh, fuck.

"That's�That's�" She couldn't seem to form a whole
sentence.

"Yes," Blaise hissed happily. "It is."

"But�But it was destroyed!" She said, not quite able to
believe the Book of the Ever After was really sitting in front of her. The Lost
Magic�Dear gods, if it was, though, then
they had the last book of the Lost Magic at their very fucking fingertips.

"You can feel it. I know you can." Draco said, his eyes
never leaving the book. She nodded wordlessly, unable to do much else as he
lifted his thumb to his mouth and sliced the pad open with a fang. He let five
drops of blood fall on the cover, rich with Elemental magic, before offering
the bleeding thumb to Blaise. The blood sank into the cover as if eaten, and
opened just as Blaise's tongue flicked over the small wound. The pages
flittered randomly, the sense of power growing, before pausing and falling
open. Words packed the pages that were revealed, written in a language she
didn't recognize and done in a dark, shimmering green ink unlike any she had
ever seen.

"The ink is beautiful." She said wistfully, wishing she
could find some the same color. Draco did look up then.

"That's not ink, love." He said, a mirthful smirk
curving his frosty lips.

"What is it then?" She asked, surprised.

"Demon blood." Blaise said with all seriousness, and she
blanched, she just knew she did.

"Demon blood?"
She exclaimed, looking more warily at the book. She knew it was mainly a Dark
book, written when practicing both the Light and the Dark were as common as
breathing, when their people had been known as the Gods' Children. But demon
blood was tricky and risky, just like its owners, and this book could pose a
very real danger, even for her boyfriends. But she was curious and drawn to it,
something within her very blood seeming to sing with its nearness. Her Mark was
responding too, feeling as if it were tugging at her skin in an effort to get
closer.

"Yes." Draco said, and shut the book carefully. He
stroked the cover fondly before throwing a shield around it, which was followed
by a shield of Blaise's and then one of her own, at their prompting. Instead of
staying layered, the shields melted and molded together before sucking in and
fitting snugly around the book like a glove. The book was then shrunk and
Blaise vanished it, the three of them agreeing to pour over it later.

"You have been made an offer, my lords." The man said
neutrally, all of his previous cheerfulness and smiling gone. Blaise's eyes
narrowed.

"What kind of offer?"

There was a moment of hesitation, and then, "One from the
Dark Lord."

The absolute silence that fell was immediate. It didn't seem that
anyone was so much as breathing, as if the world had frozen. She could
distantly feel a thousand thoughts racing through her boyfriends' minds as
their faces revealed nothing, and she felt like screaming. Why did that raving
lunatic have to fuck with them now? Dumbledore had said they should expect it,
and Draco and Blaise had been expecting it for a while. Voldemort had already
tried to win them over once, but they would speak nothing more of the
experience, except to say that they had (obviously) refused. That was when they
were fifteen, though, right before their fathers had died, and each had met him
once before then, too. Digging her nails into her palms, she looked back up as
Draco spoke.

"So Voldie wants to play?" He asked, and the man looked taken
aback for a second.

"Yes, my lord. I�suppose you could put it that way."

"And what does he offer?" Blaise asked, absently
twirling his wine glass between two elegant, black-nailed fingers.

"Immunity. Freedom. No persecution from him or his Death Eaters
no matter which way the war goes, and the same would be true for your families
and friends, also, my lords." Badru said, and Blaise and Draco grew eerily
silent, inside and out. There was something in Badru's eyes as he looked at
them, something small and glittering, kept alive by faith and trust, fanning
brighter with hope. She just wondered what it was that he was hoping for.

"The price?" Blaise finally questioned, his voice soft
and barely audible. But something in it made her shiver, and she wondered if
they might seriously be considering it. But surely they wouldn't�

"The price."
Draco demanded when Badru didn't answer. The man cleared his throat and trained
his eyes onto the floor.

"A single death, my lords." He responded, his voice once
again neutral. He didn't sound the least bit horrified over the thought of her
boyfriends killing someone outside of the dueling ring, and she had to remind
herself that he was a member of the Brotherhood.

"So he wishes us to kill for him? In order to gain his�protection?" Blaise asked, saying
the word as if it were a foul joke and draining the rest of his wine before
pouring another glass. "Kill who? A disgusted lover thrown off by the
forked tongue and body rot? A rebellious Death Eater who just couldn't torture
some mublooded little four year old? Or, my personal favorite, Harry Potter,
The Boy He's Dying To Fuck?"

"No, my lord." Badru said. Another spot of hesitation. "He
wants Dumbledore's head." Virginia barely stopped
herself from gasping.

"How stupid does he think-" Draco started, then stopped
abruptly.

She knew that Voldemort wanted Dumbledore, but for him to ask two seventeen year olds, and these two seventeen year olds at that,
was ridiculous. They didn'ke Dke Dumbledore, true, but they hated Voldemort. And for him to send
such an offer to them was insulting. Rage building quickly, they both stood
simultaneously, brushing their lips over her cheeks before stalking off across
the room. They then proceeded to throw the biggest, heaviest objects they could
find at the far wall. She and Badru watched silently as an enormous cherry wood
desk flew through the air and busted into pieces no bigger than her hand,
splinters flying everywhere.

It was followed shortly by the second desk and a slew of priceless
possessions, which were just that to them. Possessions, nothing more. One of
the statues alone could have fed her family for over a year. Shaking her head
and grinning, she turned away from their fury, knowing that they would calm
down in a minute. Hell, she was pretty mad about it herself, and she wasn't
even the focus of the offer. Finishing her wine, she poured another glass,
wondering if they would ever just be able to relax, to not have to be constantly on guard. Knowing how slim that
chance was, she turned her thoughts from that path. Badru looked over at her,
his face still grave, and pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket.

"This," he said, motioning to it, "was to be given
to you. I had it checked for curses, of course." He handed it to her, and
curious, she took it, unrolling the crisp parchmeIt rIt read:

'Dearest Virginia,

Forget not my words.
All will be forgiven should you return to me. You will be betrayed, angel, and I shall pick up the
pieces.

Tom.'

The paper fluttered from her fingers to the floor as a sick sense
of dread engulfed her. That voice whispered in her mind, the voice from her
past and, she now realized, from Reverie. 'Lies�Treachery�You
will be betrayed. Trust no one but me, angel.' The same words, words she
had also known so long ago, huddled over a worn diary in her bed at night. He was who had been inside her head in
Reverie; he was who Draco had saved
her from. Tom. Voldemort. Oh gods. Her
vision began going black, and she vaguely heard voices shouting before she realized
that a spell was at work on her. She felt so tired, so weak, so alone. She
ached, she wanted, she needed, but for what, she couldn't remember. Then he was there again, scratching at her
mind and trying to spread his poison.

'Come freely, angel. I
would never harm you.'

She fought desperately against the hold that he had on her, but
everything was so foggy and she couldn't remember how to call her magic,
couldn't remember why she was even fighting. It was stupid not to have Draco or
Blaise check that bloody note before she touched it, it was from the Dark Lord, after all, but she couldn't
even concentrate on that thought for very long. And the pain would stop if she
surrendered�That word jolted through her system, screaming in her head.
Surrender meant defeat. Defeat was death. Death was not an option.

'You shall show me
nothing!'

'In denial, are you,
angel?'

'No. In vengeance,
Voldemort.'

Gathering everything of herself that she could, she released it
all in a tidal wave of power that swept through their open link like a
maelstrom. A ragged shout echoed through her head and the Mark on her arm began
fueling more and more power into the blast. Her vision cleared as the link,
which spanned quite a large distance, snapped, but the power kept coming, both from
the Mark and from her core. She saw that a black shield shot with electricity
and rimmed in ice was surrounding her, and saw why it was necessary. The room
was full of Death Eaters and Draco and Blaise were black and silver stars, slaughtering
them like giants would a heard of sheep.

Blood sizzled and crackled along the shield, as did bodies and
limbs that were unfortunate enough to be thrown into it. She couldn't even see
her boyfriends for the blinding silver glow around Draco and the absolute, blue-shot
blackness that obscured Blaise. Her real problem, however, was the fact that
she had called on more power than she could control, and she couldn't stop it.
And if she didn't get help soon, it would burn her up from the inside. She'd
known she'd called too much from the beginning, but it was her only hope of
getting free without one of them helping her. And they, obviously, hadn't had a
chance to, only having enough time to throw up a shield around her. An idea
fizzled into her power-high brain, and she figured she might as well use what
was left in her to help them.

Leaping to her feet, magic coursing through every inch of her
body, she sprung out of the circle and onto a Death Eater's back. He tried to
spin, but she snapped both of his arms backwards and hit him in the throat with
her fist. His wand fell broken beside him, and she went for the next. Judging
from the bodies on the floor and those still fighting, almost sixty Death
Eaters had come on this little escapade. It appeared that Voldemort had an idea
of what he was fighting if he had sent so many. It was apparently
underestimated, however, as Draco and Blaise weren't even pulling on the Marks'
power, and half already lay dead or unconscious on the floor, their bodies
mangled and ravaged. They really had caught her boyfriends at a bad time.

She hit the next man in the head with a curse, watching him hit
the bloody floor with satisfaction. Battle k'> lust was thrumming
through her for the first time, enriching smells and slowing everything down.
She threw the link between their Marks open wide to stop the constant humming
that was usually reassuring, but was only distracting her now. And she knew,
somehow, that that distraction could be very deadly in such a situation. Their
blood lust mixed with her fervor as their hearts began beating as one, and she
felt their relief and anger as if it were her own. In moments, one of each of
their swords had appeared in her hands, and she sent them a silent 'thank you'.

She threw another man flying into a wall seconds later, his head
cracking against it before he fell limply to the floor. Another rushed her and
she spun, feeling a slight tingling before seemingly unlimited knowledge of
sword fighting somehow materialized in her head. She knew that they had somehow
sent her their own abilities, though she wasn't sure for how long, so she moved
quickly, not wasting any time. The knowledge wasn't controlling her; only
guiding, showing her the fastest, most efficient ways in which to handle the
situation. The man got right up on her, no wand in sight, and she hit him hard
in the face with the flat of Blaise's blade, knocking him to the floor before
slamming his face into her knee.

She left a trail of unconscious and seriously wounded wizards and
witches on the ground at her feet, time blurring, before she felt someone
behind her, sensed that they meant her death, and flipped around, the blades
sinking through the person's chest. Her eyes met theirs as they spat a weak
curse at her, the poisoned dagger that had been about to plunge between her
shoulder blades dropping to the floor. Remembering the old legend about looking
your first kill in the face, she ripped off their mask as she kicked another
Death Eater in the neck and took out his knees. Then her charcoal eyes met a
man's. An all-too familman'man's. She screamed, backing away and falling over a
body, landing hard on her hands and knees.

She kept backing away, the swords dragging the ground and slicing
the carpet, as she watched the light flicker out of eyes that had smiled with
her, laughed with her, cried with her. She couldn't breathe as she watched the
freckled hands that had held and comforted her countless times go limp and
lifeless. She couldn't move anymore as she saw his head fall back, saw him
glaring at her with a hate she hadn't even known he could possess, even as he
died. She couldn't stop looking at the wound in his chest that she had
inflicted, all because he was trying to kill her. Trying to kill her. Her own brother, his scent
filled with murder and warning, sneaking up behind her with a dagger dripping
nightshade.

Her own brother, who had been plunging that dagger down when she
had turned, and had been hidden behind the mask of an enemy her family loathed
more than any Malfoy or Zabini. Her hand came up automatically when someone
grabbed her shoulder, and she flipped them over her prone form, running fully
on instincts. She looked down into Badru's shocked face and released him. Draco
and Blaise. He worked for Draco and Blaise. He couldn't be a traitor, they
would know. Traitor, traitor, traitor�It
echoed through her head, and her eyes went mor more to her brother. Traitor. Choking on tears, a fierce rage
built inside of her, burning hot and oh-so-glorious.

The power that was dwindling inside of her flared back into
existence, coating her inside and out and lifting her to her feet. Badru was
scrambling away from her, suddenly realizing that he was face to face with
something much more dangerous than the Death Eaters. Light burst from her skin,
surrounding her in a wild red storm that sent a ring of heat billowing out from
her and scorching the walls and people in her path. Spinning the blade with an
expert's finesse that she didn't usually have, she released her fury on their
attackers in blinding flashes of consuming fire and the deadly edges of the
blades. No one so much as scratched her after that, as she turned into a
whirlwind of metal death and fiery agony. So absorbed was she, that she didn't
even notice when the last Death Eater fell.

"Virginia!" Was someone
daring to actually face her?

"Virginia, stop! You have to
stop!" Whirling, she looked for more of the enemy, but her vision began
clouding again.

"Virginia, ma cher�, please!" She knew that voice,
didn't she? Knew that that voice should never have to beg for anything�But who
was it? And where? Why was everything so bloody dark? ((my darling))

"Foutr�! She's slipping too fast! Just do it!" And that
voice, too�Familiar�Was she lying down? When had that happened? And why
couldn't she feel anything? Or see? She could hear and think since the battle
fury was dispersing, but otherwise there was nothing. Except the voices that
she was sure she should recognize. ((Fuck!))

"Cocidius!" The name shot through her consciousness like
a hot knife, jarring her back to reality and to her pain-filled body. Her eyes
flew open and she saw two angels kneeling above her. Wondering if she was dead,
she tried to sit up only to scream as the pain tripled. Gentle, urgent hands
pushed her back down again, baring her right arm.

"Heed us, Cocidius, by blood and bone, for your Chosen need your aid!"
One of the angels called out, and her arm began burning hotter than the rest of
her. She vaguely thought that she usually loved the heat, but it was as
strained and blurry as everything else was, except for the pain. But then it
was gone, as quickly as it had come, and soothing darkness covered her in a
tight shell. Slowly, she felt herself healing, and then faster as more energy
poured from her arm and from something attached to both of her hands. Memories
began coming back, speeding by in flashes and bursts of feeling, before she
bolted upright, gasping.

"Thank you, my Lord." Two melodious voices intoned from
either side of her, and she looked up to face her 'angels'. Hah. But they were currently her heroes, and she
figured she was entitled to be very, very shaky and clingy.

"What the fuck happened?" She asked as their arms
wrapped around her. The scent of their blood reached her after a moment, and
she stiffened. Were they hurt?

"It's nothing, ma �me." Draco said softly, as if reading
her thoughts. Which he wasn't, or she would know. "Scratches. We needed
blood spilled on our Marks to ask for help. You burned too much power, love,
too much for even our Healing skills. But you are fine, now, oui?" He
asked, stroking her hair with his hand. They were soaked in blood, as was she, but
the scent of theirs stood out over the rest, like a rose among weeds. ((my
soul)) ((yes?))

"I'm okay." She said, but that wasn't entirely true. A
face flashed in her mind, bringing the horror rushing back. "I killed
him." She whispered, her voice cracking.

"Killed who, love?" Blaise asked softly. "You
blocked us suddenly, right after you screamed."

"Percy." She choked out, her throat tightening. They
pulled back the smallest bit, in order to look at her, shocked.

"But isn't that-?"

"Yes." She responded, the first tears spilling down her
cheeks and steaming as they hit her skin. "My brother."

"I don't understand." Draco said, which was rare.
"He was here? As a Death Eater?"

"He tried to kill me." She said, her hands beginning to
shake. "Oh gods, oh fuck. Percy. Percy
tried to kill me. Nightshade�This can't be happening. It just can't." She
moaned, covering her face with her fingers. Their hands ran over her, soothing
and petting as they cooed soft words of regret and sorrow in the Old Tongue,
their musical voices coating her soul. Her tears flowed for what seemed like
hours, and she felt as if someg weg were constricting around her chest, getting
tighter and tighter with every breath that she took.

"My Lady, is there anything I can get for you?" Badru's
voice floated to her through her haze.

"I'm not a Lady." She replied blankly.

"Yes, my Lady, you are." He said with conviction.
"A most magnificent one."

"Magnificent?"
She questioned, acid creeping unconsciously into her tone. "How can you say that? Perhaps you didn't hear
correctly?" She asked, her voice rising. "My brother just tried to stab me in the back. Literally. My brother was a traitor, and his blood
flows through my veins." Saying it aloud brought tears she didn't think
she had left pouring from her eyes. "What's my family going to say?"

"What do you mean?" Blaise asked, kissing her tears away
for the umpteenth time. "I'll doubt anyone will brand you a murderer like
they did us."

"No." She said, fighting to find the right way to
explain. "This is going to fuck them up. Badly. The first Weasley to ever
betray the family, and it happens now.
My brothers will never be the same, and my parents�" She trailed off in
misery, not looking forward to the next few hours nearly as much as she had
been. Another date, ruined. Draco and Blaise exchanged glances, before Blaise
nodded slightly and Draco turned back to her, something strange in his eyes.

"It can all disappear, Virginia, if you but say the
word."

"What?" She asked, confused. Blaise's fingers stopped
tracing mindless patterns on her hip, and he looked at her through hooded eyes.

"It can disappear." Blaise repeated. "They'd never
know what really happened; never know that he betrayed you all. If you wish to
spare them this," he hesitated briefly, "we will leave no
trace." She did understand, then, what they offered her.

They wouldn't be in trouble for killing Death Eaters, as it was
imprisonment or death on sight for anyone with the Dark Mark, let alone the
fact that they were on their own property when it happened. And it would be a
perfect way for them to say 'See? Fuck
you' to the general population, and to get pesky Aurors who thought that they were Death Eaters off of their
backs. And what could be a more perfect way for the two of them to do something good? Mass slaughter was definitely a unique
way to achieve that goal. Their publicists were going to love this. That, or commit suicide. But they were offering to make
it all go away, to give all that up, as if it had never happened, just to save
her more pain. And she couldn't let them do that.

"No." She said, shaking her head weakly. It just sounded
so nice, as if she'd be able to
forget her brother's eyes in those last few seconds if only she could spare her
family the same pain.

"Yes." They both countered, helping her to her feet.

"Badru, assemble a clean up team, now. Move this pathetic
filth and burn it. And it's not your fault you didn't detect the curse on the
letter, so quit looking so bloody guilty. And yes, that is how they got in. The curse activated a portal, one made by a
Demon Lord if it was strong enough to get in here, even with that curse
helping. Voldemort paid a high price for such a risky plan. That or he's
stupider than I gave him credit for." Draco said, and it was the most
information she'd ever heard him willingly indulge at once to anyone except for
herself and Blaise.

"You can't do this!" She said. "You need something
to convince them that you don't work for that fucking lunatic or you'll be
fighting two wars! We'll be fighting two wars!"

"And why should we need to prove aing?ing?" Blaise
hissed in anger, not at her, but at the situation. "Even if they believe we're not traitors,
they'll just shun us for something else. The Dark Arts, our names, our magick.
And people wonder why we want the remaining bloodlines kept pure. Before we
started interbreeding with muggles, all magic
was understood and accepted. Our families were their fucking protectors, for the love of Gaea, up
until our fathers. It's amazing how quickly people forget that our titles hold
actual meaning, isn't it? Amazing how
quickly they'll line up to call you evil and foul for practicing the same magick
that defended them from threatening Dark Lords for centuries." Slightly
stunned at the venom in his voice, she said nothing at first. She couldn't
really argue with that anyway.

"And now that your fathers are gone?" She questioned after
a minute. Midnight blue eyes met hers, filled with dark knowledge and the kind
of resignation only duty can bring. They then flickered to Draco, who nodded in
understanding and continued for him.

"It cost them their souls to ignore our families' binding
ties to the land. And we are Chosen, after all. But many of the customs that
came with our families' protection were mere cosiessies, courtesies which we
have decided to ignore. We will fulfill our role as we were meant to, and offer
refuge only to those who kneel and bind themselves as we are bound. Those who
refuse will be on their own, and quite literally when the fighting begins, as
those whose loyalties are not certain shall not live on land owned by us. And
they're going be horribly surprised when they realize just how much of their precious
little world we own."

��..

"I've got a bad feeling." Ron said out of nowhere while
the trio was catching up on their studies in their common room.

"What do you mean, Ron?" Hermione asked, reluctantly
looking up from her Charms essay. She was surprised when she saw that he was
almost green and sweating slightly. His eyes looked slightly wild and his hands
were shaking like autumn leaves. "Ron!"

"We have to go to Dumbledore. Now." He said, getting
unsteadily to his feet and swaying. Harry jumped up, his books falling
unnoticed to the floor, and put an arm around Ron to get him steady. He then
shot her a worried glance, and she nodded, putting away their stuff.

"Okay, Ron. We'll go see Dumbledore." She agreed. He was
starting to scare her with the crazed, vacant look in his eyes, and she thought
the presence of their Headmaster would be a huge relief. He would tell them
everything was fine, and send them to bed. Oh, no, wait, that would only happen
if they were any other students. They
scrambled out of the portrait hole, and had to run to keep up with Ron as he
dashed down the hallways. They were
halfway there when he started really freaking out.

"She's so sad�Why is she so sad?&; He; He was mumbling to
himself. "Something's wrong, someone's sad, but who�GINNY!" He yelled
suddenly and tried to bolt away in the wrong direction. They pulled him back,
and had to drag him the rest of the way while he spat curses at them and tried
to get his wand, which Hermione had pocketed. But when they found Dumbledore already
waiting for them, they were so surprised they let him go. Luckily, he was just
as shocked. Dumbledore nodded at them, his eyes blank, and it was almost scary.
A tight feeling settled in her stomach, a growing sense of unease spreading
throughout her body.

"Yes, I expected you. Tonight was promised to be a dark one,
and now I believe it will be. I had still hoped when you had not come sooner�But
alas, they must be found. Perhaps help can still be given." Dumbledore
said, trying and failing to look like his usual cheerful self.

"We're going with you!" Ron stated boldly, defiance in
his eyes. But Dumbledore only nodded again.

"You are of age now. I cannot stop you. And I would rather
have you with me than running all over the place looking for your sister
yourself." He said, and Ron temporarily deflated.

"Okay. They're at The Silver Swan." Ron said morosely,
alternating between clutching his stomach and his head. Dumbledore turned sharp
eyes to him.

"What ails you, Mr. Weasley?"

"I don't know." He said. "My stomach and my head
started hurting, a girl started screaming and crying, and then�I'm not sure. We
found you? I just know that something is wrong.
I don't know how, so can we please go?" He asked, the desperation creeping
back into his voice. Dumbledore agreed, and then on their way out of the
castle, got Professor Snape to come with them, much to the trio's discomfort. A
standard horse and thestral-less carriage already stood by the gates, as one
always did for the teachers and parents to use, and they hopped inside. A spell
later and they were rolling down the drive.

"We pass under the wards in a minute." Dumbledore said.
"We'll Apparate to The Silver Swan from there. Agreed?"

"Yes, sir." They chorused, and Snape sneered at them,
his eyes full of loathing and disgust.

"Honestly,
Albus," he said sarcastically, "when did we start bringing children on this sort of thing?"

"We're not children!" Harry said hotly. "And your
precious Slytherins that we're going after are the same age as we are!"
Snape's glare was positively withering.

"You're a fool, Potter." He said softly, his voice low
and unlike they had ever heard it before. "You believe yourself grown when
you know nothing. Mr. Malfoy and Mr.
Zabini are older, wiser and more mature then you could ever hope to be. And if
I were you, Mr. Potter," he wore
a look that said he was very pleased not to be, "I would reconsider my
holier-than-thou views on everything, because I'm under the impression that you
need a favor from a few of my students. And I can guarantee you that you won't
keep their help long if you act like � well, you."

"That's enough, Severus." Dumbledore said. "We've
cleared the wards. Come along." The carriage lurched to a stop and they
climbed out onto the gravel drive. They Apparated seconds later, appearing
outside a restaurant the size of a small mansion. It was also a hotel, and it
catered only to society's elite. They were the only one's who could afford so
much as a glass of water there anyway. The doorman took one look at the trio's
robes and sniffed, sticking his nose in the air until he saw Dumbledore and
Snape.

"My lords!" He exclaimed, and hurriedly opened the door.
Harry looked surprised at the titles, but Hermione, naturally, already knew
from her studying, and Ron did because he had grown up knowing who was who in
the wizarding world. They walked into a large room that practically oozed
elegance, and a finely dressed waiter in immaculate robes came up to them.

"How may I help you, my lords?" He asked, not even
acknowledging the trio after an initial glance. It was obvious neither he nor
the other wizard had seen Harry's scar because of his hair.

"We're looking for Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and Virginia
Weasley. They had reservations tonight." Dumbledore said. The waiter
nodded.

"What time was the reservation for?" He asked.

"Eight-thirty, my lord."

"But they left at seven." Ron said miserably, his
previous panic beginning to return. Dumbledore thanked the waiter and they went
back outside.

"They have an office here in town." Snape said as soon
as they'd gotten away from the doorman. "I think we should look there
next." Everyone agreed with him, as they had no idea where else to start
looking. They didn't even notice the rich surroundings of the place they
entered after Apparating that time, too distracted to appreciate the dark
beauty around them. They headed straight for the large desk, ignoring the
hisses of the goblins.

"Can I help you?" A blonde witch asked when they stopped
in front of her. She passed Dumbledore over with a slight grimace, did the same
with the trio, but then stopped when she saw Snape. "Oh, hello,
Severus."

"Good evening, Jaelin. Are Blaise and Draco in?"

"Do you have an appointment?" She asked, and he shook
his head. "Sorry. Can't let you in without one. Anyway, they already went
to their real office."

"In Alexandria?" Snape hissed,
and the witch rolled her eyes. Hermione gasped softly and Ron paled. Alexandria?? What the hell were
they doing there?

"Where else? This is
the Hogsmeade location, after all, and it's a one-way ride, as you should know.
Anything else?"

"No, we'll use the floo, I suppose." Snape replied, sighing,
and they turned and went to one of the rows of fireplaces that people were
coming steadily in and out of, even at that hour. The fireplaces all had large,
accessible pots of floo powder ready to use, one of which Snape dipped into to
floo Narcissa and Silana, who agreed to meet them in Alexandria. He tried Molly, too,
but no one was at the Burrow. Then he held out the powder.

"You want to go first, Albus? I'll follow after them."

"That'll do." Dumbledore replied and took a pinch of the
powder. "Malfoy and Zabini Enterprises, the Alexandria branch!" He said
clearly, throwing the powder in and disappearing in a flare of flames.

Harry went next, then Hermione. She stepped into the flames after
giving the location, and felt the familiar spinning sensation. Fireplace after
fireplace whipped by, continuing long after it would normally have spit her
out. When she had finally given up hope that it was ever going to end and was positive
she was about to be nauseous, it slowed gradually, which she had never felt it
do before. Feeling as if she had landed on pillows, she looked up and into a room
nearly three times the size of the one they'd just left. It would have reminded
her of the British Ministry building, with the size and all of the fireplaces,
except that it had the same dark colored decorating and art that the other
office had. She stepped out onto the plush carpet, seeing that she wasn't even
covered in soot.

"Move, Hermione!" Ron said from behind her, and she
hurried forward to where Harry and Dumbledore were waiting. Snape appeared a
moment later, and the three of them began the long walk to the front of the
crowded building. An exotic witch looked up to help them when they finally made
it there, staring at them blankly.

"Welcome to Malfoy and Zabini Enterprises." She said in
a high, sweet voice. "How may I help you?"

"We need to see Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini, please."
Dumbledore said, and there was no recognition in her eyes as she looked at him.

"Do you have an appointment?" She asked, mimicking the
other woman perfectly.

"No. It's an emergency."

"I'm afraid I can't help you." She said, her face
turning hard but her voice staying polite. "Unless you have an
appointment."

"Would it help at all if we told you that scrawny rat was the
Potter boy?" Snape asked, smirking at Harry's glare.

"No." The woman snapped. "But it might get you
removed from the building." Well, that
was definitely different from any reaction they had received before when people
discovered who Harry was. They saw Narcissa and Silana step out of a different
fireplace suddenly, and waved to them. They began walking over, and the woman
behind the desk gasped, quickly straightening her robes.

"M-My l-ladies! What c-can I d-do for y-you?" She
stammered when they joined the small group.

"We wish to see our sons." Narcissa said regally, an air
of authority wrapping around her like a cloak. "Now." She said when the girl just kept staring.

< sty style='font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Verdana;
color:black'>"Of-Of course, m-my lady. The lords activated the s-stone
almost two hours ago, and Badru already went up. They said if you ever came to
this office and they were here that y-you were to be let up. Here," she
said, and waved her wand, which made a noise like a bell chiming. "Garai
will show you the way, as you've n-never visited us here before." She
said, and a young, balding Egyptian man came out of a door behind her. He bowed
to them and led them silently to a different door. They climbed two short
flights of stairs to another door, which the man whispered a series of
passwords into, did a few complicated, blurred wand movements, and then pressed
his palm flat on the door's surface.

"Accepted." A disembodied voice intoned, and the door
swung open. Fresh, cool night air hit their faces as they stepped out onto a black
marble balcony. Looking around, they couldn't see anywhere to go besides back
inside or two stories down.

"What the hell?" Ron asked. "What are we doing here? I want to see my sister!" The
man said nothing, simply touched one of the banisters and twisted. Without a
sound, the entire balcony began slowly moving upwards, to the trio's
astonishment and Dumbledore's delight.

"Excellent!" He exclaimed. "Whoever did you find to
do this?" He asked the silent man, who still said nothing. Silana did
answer him, however.

"I'm imaging that our sons did it. All of the balconies at
our homes do this now." She said, and Dumbledore actually looked slightly
surprised. And impressed.

They rose higher and higher over the city, the view becoming
dazzling and more than slightly frightening until Narcissa noticed their
distress, and with a long-suffering sneer, informed them that there wards were
encircling the balcony. They asked how she knew, and the look she gave them
could have wilted a flower to its roots. She didn't look at Ron, though, only
at her and Harry, and Hermione knew it was probably because of her new
friendship with Molly, and because her son was with Ginny. Or maybe it was just
because Hermione and Harry had 'tainted blood' in her opinion. But whatever the
case, and even with the numbing dread in her gut, Hermione couldn't help but
become entranced with the sight afforded them as they rose and rose. Finally,
so far up the ground was nothing more than blackness and twinkling little
lights, the balcony stopped.

"Blood is the living river." The man said from behind
them, the first truly audible noise that he had made.

A door appeared in the wall, carved of glossy ebony wood and
engraved with ancient runes. The man did another series of movements and
whispered words, before the door swung open and the smell of sweat and fresh
blood hit them full on. Pushing forward, their movements becoming hurried, they
nearly fell inside in a heap, barely disentangling themselves in time. The
sight that greeted them was one that Hermione would remember forever. The floor
looked like a lake of liquid darkness, but they soon realized that that was
just what an enormous amount of spilled blood like on black marble and carpet.
The walls were wet with it too, especially the glass one, and the room had been
torn almost to pieces. Bodies in stiff black robes and telltale masks littered
the floor along with severed limbs and�Was
that a head?

She'd been wrong. Now
she was nauseous. Running to the wall behind her, she threw up until there was
nothing left, the thick smell of blood and death still choking her. Wiping her
mouth, she looked up and saw that Ginny was huddled between Draco and Blaise,
and all three of them were covered from head to foot in gore. Willing herself
not to dry heave, she walked around the bodies on wobbly legs, Harry running up
to her and letting her lean on him. He was ashen and looked as if he, too, had
been ill, and Ron was running towards Ginny. Narcissa, Silana, Snape and
Dumbledore were also moving towards her and the two Slytherins, and Hermione
noticed another man she'd never seen before crouched beside them. Draco and
Blaise each had a twin set of swords strapped to their backs, and the long,
deep gashes down their forearms were the only wounds that she could see.
- 8
- 9
- 10
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Unexpected