Disclaimer: Though I would like to imagine myself a fiction writer like the great JKR, I am but a humble fanfic-er who means no disrespect or copyright infringement!
Pansy silently berated herself for taking so long coming back from the dungeon with Draco. He was clearly coming around to the idea of their becoming a family. Now she felt as though she’d have to start over. He seemed to be just short of ballistic at the moment.
And really, who could blame him? she thought. She had been more than a little bit disturbed to see Narcissa on top of the Mudblood, her hand in the bitch’s knickers. Peter’s gaping drooling mouth did nothing to enhance the picture, either. Personally, she was glad the Mudblood had enough in her to push off Narcissa’s body as much as she did before they walked in. She had no desire to see just how much of Lucius would come through Narcissa.
Draco’s yelling had surprised them all, though. He was livid. Pansy sighed just a bit at the memory- she loved an angry Draco- those stormy darkened gray eyes- and all that volatile passion just oozing from the tiny cracks of his usually unyielding demeanor.
His thunderous voice had struck every one of them. Peter had fallen backwards out of the circle, sputtering incoherently. Lucius had jerked Narcissa’s head back and was laughing at the incensed look on Draco’s face. Although Pansy had thought that there was something interesting buried in the laughter- something not too far away from fear. Even the Mudblood had reacted. She took the opportunity to shove back on Narcissa’s body, rolling the older woman off of her.
And now he was standing there- just looking slowly and determinedly- at every detail in the room. Pansy caught her breath. She had loved him for so long. But she’d never thought she’d have to do something as momentous as what now stood before her.
But he’s worth it, she thought. Quietly, she Accioed his wand from where she had hidden it earlier. It came from the top of the bookcase behind her. She gripped it in her hands and made to walk closely by him, brushing herself against his side. She found his hand, and pushed his wand into it. He looked at her then- it was the briefest of glances. She gave him a near imperceptible nod of her head before making her way up to the top of the circle.
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“I see four of them standing just outside the door,” Ginny whispered. She turned to look back at the ragged remnants of her team. Neville gave her a small smile, despite his swollen and bleeding lip. His torn robes were hiding his other injuries, though he had assured her that he was all right.
Ron’s arm was around Harry’s shoulder. She looked down at her brother’s mangled leg. Ron had been leading the group when they’d rounded the corner to find the manticore. Even in Auror training, she hadn’t come up against anything other than a simulation of the beast. Ron had surprised it. She imagined that if the creature hadn’t been napping, he would probably be dead. The thought made her shudder. As it was, hers and Neville’s combined efforts at stalling the blood flow seemed to be barely adequate. But they couldn’t leave him as there was no telling what else was lurking around this house.
“Where are Remus and Tonks?” Harry whispered. Ginny shook her head. She had been more than worried that their two friends hadn’t joined them yet. Furthermore, she was worried about Hagrid and Fang. The first attack they’d sustained had been from behind. Though the house was huge, Ginny couldn’t help but suspect that the mercenaries had come in from behind them- possibly following them from the servants’ entrance that they had used. That meant that Hagrid and probably Remus and Tonks had been ambushed, too.
There had been more of a resistance than Ginny had initially considered. She still thought that they had the element of surprise, though. The Death Eater guards outside of the drawing room didn’t seem to be especially concerned about an impending attack. Ron had surprised the manticore. And the mercenary fighters that might have followed them in had all been dispatched before they could alert anyone to their presence. Despite her worry for her friends outside, she knew they’d already been very lucky.
“I don’t think we should wait for the others,” she whispered back. Neville nodded his head and the looks of determination on both Harry and Ron’s faces indicated their agreement.
“Nothing new- we’ll have to be quick and quiet. Even from here, I can see the shimmering charm of a Deflection spell on the guards,” she reasoned. They quickly ran through a set of scenarios until they found one that seemed appropriate. Once again, Ginny found herself thanking Hermione for her coaching work.
Ginny allowed herself to take a deep breath. She looked at her brother and two friends. Neville was the only other Auror besides herself- they’d gone through training together and she trusted him implicitly. After all, Hermione had coached him, too. And she knew she’d rather face any danger next to Harry and Ron over any other fully trained Auror in the Department.
She muttered another Blood Clotting spell over Ron’s leg. He gave her a weak smile of thanks. She looked her team over once again and nodded at Harry. She felt a familiar jolt in her chest as she watched him pull his Invisibility Clock over his head. Then she pulled herself up to a standing position, ready to make the next move.
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One.
Two.
Three.
Four… the familiar stillness washed over her.
Five.
Six…. her heartbeats slowed but she still continued to count them.
Seven.
Eight.
Nine… grayish mists swirled behind her eyes.
Ten… she opened her eyes to the scene around her.
The place felt familiar. She was sure she’d been here before- maybe not in this room- but definitely in this place. She wished there was a little more light and that the funny buzzing noises would dissipate so she could hear what They were saying.
And she recognized Them, too. All of Them.
The scene in front of her wouldn’t stay still long enough for her to make sense of it. After standing there for several moments, she realized that she was seeing the same scene play out over and over- with only subtle differences. She felt like someone kept hitting rewind and fast-forward buttons, stopping and starting at nearly the same place each time.
It was horrible. Death. Destruction. Fire.
She had to think of something. There had to be some way to gain control of this.
She walked in front of each of Them, in turn, watching the subtle differences each time around.
She spent quite a few moments in front of a woman with light blond hair and familiar features. She could plainly discern two presences within the body. There was some amount of variance in the woman’s actions, depending on which presence was most dominant. She thought it was interesting that there was no pattern as to which would emerge. She had initially thought the masculine one would force the feminine one into compliance. However, as she watched the strange interplay, she could tell that the feminine presence was carefully controlling the masculine one- was allowing it to emerge. It could easily be called back within. She pondered this for a while, wondering what sort of threat this posed. The masculine force was clearly a menace; however, the feminine one was far more difficult to assess. She just couldn’t get a handle on its thoughts and emotions. She deduced that they must be masked to her for some reason.
She stood in front of the dark haired woman, finally. She watched her more than any of the others. She had the most contrast between her actions. Of all of Them, she seemed to be the most susceptible to variation. How can this be used? What can I do?
No sooner had she thought that then she felt a new presence in the scene. The room had gone very hazy now. She turned around and around, struggling to identify the new person. She felt a sudden rush of heat that bothered her for some vague reason. She tried to remember if she was supposed to feel anything like that. She thought maybe if she were to close her eyes and then reopen them, she might better see the scene and thus, the new person.
She closed her eyes and counted several quickened heartbeats. In just the space of a few seconds, the heat had tremendously increased around her. She opened her eyes now to a blindingly white-hot light. This was very strange to her and she struggled to maintain control of her heartbeat. She could almost feel flames tickling her fingertips now. So she looked down at her hands though she knew she wouldn’t see her corporeal body.
But her hands were there. She gasped. She wasn’t supposed to be there.
I have to tell Dumbledore! she thought.
She struggled to open her eyes- open her real eyes- eyes that were supposed to belong to a little girl sitting next to an old wizard down in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place.
With a huge concentrated effort, she did open them. But she was surprised to find that the kitchen and the old man were as hazy as the scene that she’d just left.
“Louisa?” she heard from far away. She saw the wizard’s mouth move before she heard his words. She concentrated even harder to be in the right space to hear and see at the same time. She tried to speak back.
“Dumbledore?” she croaked. He nodded back to her, bringing the Pensieve closer to her now. He held his wand next to her temple and muttered something that she could not hear. In the indistinctness of the kitchen, she saw wispy silvery images trailing from her head into the vast depth of the stone bowl.
She had to try to tell him again. She felt as though she was fading- literally being pulled back into the scene. She saw him rapidly look through the images. She felt the return of his sharp gaze.
“Louisa- you must resist. You must stay here,” he was saying. Now the discord between his lips and his words was even greater than before. Then she felt something strong wrap around her- something binding her to this reality. But the tug of the other place was growing, too.
She felt the heat again- the welcoming flames of the fire. She could feel it gently flickering at the bottom of her feet and the tips of her fingers.
Why shouldn’t I go? she thought. She felt rather like her brain was sticky- as though someone had poured honey all over her and it had seeped into her thoughts.
I really need to go to Them.
“They’re expecting me,” she whispered aloud. She saw the concern shining brightly in his eyes as the bindings were becoming weaker.
The heat was now licking up her legs. She could feel the fire beginning to travel inside of her. Stupidly, she wondered if her blood was changing colors now that it, too, seemed to be on fire.
She looked once more at the fading vision of the wizard sitting next to her.
“They’re expecting me- but not like this,” she said, before giving over to the fire.
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Draco felt the wood being pressed into his hand. He looked over to see Pansy nod her head before she strode past him. Carefully, he slid the wand into his sleeve, with the base of it remaining in his palm. He held his wand arm causally at his side, palm- and wand- facing inwards. He had not been expecting this.
He walked towards where his mother and his wife still lay. Hermione had- thankfully- pushed Narcissa’s body off of her and then rearranged her own clothing. His wife had met his eyes ever so briefly sending him the silent message that she was indeed all right and that he should maintain his own composure.
Easier said than done, he thought. If he were to make it out of all this in one piece- and Hermione with him- he knew that he was going to need some therapy to deal with the images that he’d just seen.
He had long accepted that Lucius was an irredeemable person. He had not mourned the death of the man who had been his father. Rather, he felt as though that man- his father- had been dead long long before Potter’s Killing Curse had downed him. Though he knew he would have been able to do it himself, he also thought that Potter’s timing had been a bit of a kindness. He could have killed Lucius but ultimately he was thankful that he hadn’t been the one to do it.
But now, as looked at his mother’s body, he had the inklings of doubts in his resolve. For some morbid reason, Lucius was back. But he was back within in Narcissa. Draco had no qualms about acknowledging that his mother was past redemption herself. He was perfectly aware that she’d been on the sidelines of Voldemort’s activities only because of her mental instability. But her vulnerability is what kept Draco from damning her to Lucius’s fate. He’d never considered her as anything other than a nuisance- one incapable of causing real harm.
But there she was. She had obviously been some defining part of the orchestration this entire scenario. Draco faltered- what part had she played? he mused. He needed to know how his mother fit into this.
Had this been her plan all along? Or has this been the outcome of bringing Lucius back?
He had been hovering over Narcissa and Hermione for several minutes, lost in his thoughts, and only dimly aware of his surroundings. Narcissa had her eyes fixed on him and he felt trapped in her gaze. He had only been slightly aware that Hermione had inched away from both of them.
Movement from the front of the room caught his eye. Though he did not want to let Narcissa out of his sight, he knew he needed to be cautious of Pansy and Pettigrew. Draco assumed that Pettigrew still expected Pansy to bleed Hermione during the ritual. And now Draco thought that Pansy would attempt to kill Hermione prior to the ritual to spoil the effectiveness of her blood- but she had also said that she would bring Louisa here first.
That thought brought him sharply to attention. He offered his hand to his mother. He would take her with him, away from Hermione, and move to keep a closer eye on Pansy.
He saw Narcissa’s eyes widen in surprise at his proffered hand. And then he knew that Lucius was gone for the moment.
“Mother,” he said gently.
She allowed him to pull her up. Very tenderly, he turned her around, and brushed the dust off of her clothing. He straightened out the wrinkles of her elegant dress robes. He watched as she patted her slightly toppled hair-do back into place.
His gaze shifted back to the front of the room where Pansy now was pulling out three vials of dark red liquid. Pettigrew was standing next to her, assisting her in her preparations. He gestured to his mother that they should join them. As she turned to walk forwards, he quickly looked at Hermione. Reacting on instincts, he drew out his wand away from his body.
Swiftly and imperceptibly, he cast the most powerful Shielding Spell that he knew over her, tying it into the already powerful magic of the Annulus Aeternus ring around her finger. He felt the rush of energy drain from him. He nearly stumbled into his mother at the sudden loss. But he knew that Hermione was now as safe as he could possibly make her- she’d even have a few seconds to dodge the Killing Curse with the strength of that charm.
Narcissa turned around and gave him a piercing look.
“What did you do?” she asked suspiciously.
But anything Draco might have said was suddenly drowned out by Pansy’s shouts and then a low but ever increasing buzzing noise.
Draco looked over at Pansy. Three empty vials were carelessly strewn in front of her. He noted the other ingredients now that he was close enough to see them. Then, in a rush of understanding, he felt overwhelmed with dread.
Pansy had started to violently shake as a result of the Dark Magic she had invoked. Her eyes had rolled back into her head and she looked as though she might fall over at any moment. Pettigrew made a movement to grip her shoulders but Narcissa’s rough voice stopped him.
“Do not touch her!” she yelled. “She must complete her task.”
Draco recognized the spell. He’d seen it years ago in one of his father’s books- the Blood Summoning Spell. It was powerfully Dark Magic to bring people together through the force of their own blood- and he also knew that the three vials had indeed contained Hermione’s, Louisa’s, and his own blood. With a sinking heart, he realized that the spell was strong enough- or rather that Pansy was determined enough to endure whatever it would take- to bring Louisa from the safety of the Order Headquarters as well as from whatever magic Dumbledore was using to bind her to him.
Pansy was still shaking and now lurched forward over the smoking basin of blood. Draco heard a snap and then a shriek from Pansy. She had clutched her chest and he realized that the force of the spell had probably broken one of her ribs.
He had to stop her before she brought Louisa here. He made a jerky movement towards the dark haired woman. But he was knocked to floor before he realized what had happened. Narcissa was upon him but it was Lucius’s rage that kept him pinned there. He met his father’s presence in her smoldering blue eyes.
“You will kindly not interfere in the resurrection of the Dark Lord,” he hissed. Draco just heard him over the loud buzzing.
Draco was shocked but pretended to be even more so. Lucius had one of Narcissa’s hands holding down Draco’s arm while the other was thrust against his chest. Her long robes had bunched around her waist. Lucius had one of her shapely legs pinning Draco’s other arm while her other leg was stretched out across his legs. Draco didn’t spare a thought to be disgusted.
He squeezed the base of his wand, carefully angling it towards his mother’s body.
Before he could say anything, a wave of heat knocked the woman off of him. Draco snapped his head around to see the source of the overwhelming warmth but was blinded by the burst of light. The buzzing had turned into a roar.
With his mother off of him and his vision temporarily blinded, he aimed his wand in the general direction of Pansy and Pettigrew.
“Obstruo!” he shouted. Though he saw nothing, he barely heard an explosion of sorts and fervently hoped he’d destroyed the basin of blood before it called forth his daughter. Then he crawled as quickly as he could to where he hoped Hermione was still laying.
The entire room seemed to be consumed by the blinding light. Draco tried unsuccessfully to shield his eyes from it. He could barely make out other noises now against the roar. He sensed the burning heat of fire creeping upon him. He felt disoriented and giddy. He breathing was labored now and he knew he was struggling just to maintain consciousness.
Then he felt cool strong hands dig into his shoulders. He couldn’t see or hear anything. But the hands pulled him. His body temperature dropped quickly as he leaned against a near icily cool body.
“Draco!” he heard over the din of the fire. “Stay with me!”
He heard the voice more clearly now and thought he would chance opening his eyes.
Hermione.
There was no mistaking the warm brown eyes of his beloved. She leaned in to kiss him quickly- her lips cool against his own.
“Now get up!” she cried. “But stay with me!”
He took her hand and allowed himself to be pulled up. Then he understood. The Shielding Spell had protected Hermione from the dazzling brightness and heat of the fire. He squeezed her hand and pulled out his wand.
“We’ve got to restrain them but do nothing about the fire! It may hurt her,” she commanded. Though this didn’t make sense to him, he knew that she was right.
The fire had spread now and divided the room in half.
“We have to get to the other side of the fire- we need to go through,” she yelled.
Again, though this made no sense at all, he knew it was the correct thing to do.
Still grasping her hand, he hoped that the Shielding Spell would withstand the blaze.
The two plunged into the fire. Draco was surprised to feel only a mild and somewhat comforting warmth. He even felt a familiarity within the flames- like the presence of…
“Louisa!” he shouted.
With his hand still clasped in Hermione’s, the two made it out of the fire. Slowly, his eyes focused on the scene before him.
Pansy was on the ground, still clutching her heart. A bright bloody patch was growing on the front of her dress robes. The broken basin was shattered around and underneath her- Draco could see that the traces of their blood were still smoking. Pettigrew was nowhere in sight. He felt a tug on his hand. Hermione was pulling him around the high table.
Louisa.
He saw his daughter standing over a charred heap of robes. She wasn’t moving. She was just staring at what was in front of her.
He finally let go of Hermione’s hand as they both rushed to their child.
“Louisa?” he said tentatively, his arms already around her.
“It’s my Grandmother,” the child calmly responded as though deep within a trance.
Both Draco and Hermione looked from Louisa to the pile of robes. Draco moved over to look more closely. Just as he was reaching towards the smoldering ruins, he felt Hermione’s cool hand in his own, extending the protection of his Shielding Spell once again. He looked back to see that she also kept a hand on Louisa.
Hesitatingly, he pulled some of the now-blackened robes away. The flat blue eyes of Narcissa looked back at him. She was badly burned but still breathing.
“Mother?” He clutched his wand. He was only a spell away from easing enough of her injuries to spare her life. He hesitated and knew that Narcissa saw it in his eyes.
“Draco, just let me go,” she pleaded softly. He was surprised to hear the gentleness of her tone and to see tears slowly leak out of her eyes. He nodded his head, unable to speak, and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead.
“No!” he heard from behind him. Louisa had snapped out of her trance. She broke away from Hermione’s grasp and knelt beside Narcissa.
“I See you now!” the child cried. She put her tiny hands on Narcissa’s chest. Draco watched in horror as his mother shifted her gaze to Louisa.
“Daddy- don’t let her go. It’s not supposed to happen.”
“Child,” she whispered. But Draco heard it- he heard something deep within Narcissa’s voice- something clear and pure and beautiful- something that was fighting not to die. Hermione squeezed his hand. He didn’t hesitate.
“Vivere!” he cried, the most basic medi-wizard spell- designed simply to keep a person from slipping away.
Narcissa closed her eyes but her ragged breathing became calmer. Louisa kept her hands on the woman’s heart for a few more minutes.
“There’s more,” Louisa said, fear now creeping back into voice.
Draco pulled Hermione and Louisa towards him as the immediacy of their desperate situation encroached.
“The fire is out of control. We need to get out of here,” Hermione shouted.
“The Shield Charm will get you and Louisa through the fire- you’ve got to go,” Draco yelled back.
“We’re not going without you!” Hermione looked back at him and he clearly heard the desperation and fear in her voice. She gripped his hand tightly, pulling him up.
He pulled out his wand and tried to dowse some of the fire near the far wall with an Extinguishing Spell. It lessened somewhat so that they could at least see the other side of the room. He pushed Hermione and Louisa through the blaze before letting go of their hands. He felt the flames lick against his arms as soon as he broke contact. But he didn’t notice because he was so relieved to see that Hermione and Louisa had made it to the other side. He ardently hoped they’d be safe.
He ran back to his mother. Pansy was now sitting up, her back against the high table. She was muttering incoherently.
“Pansy, you’ve got to help me get us out of here!”
She looked at him oddly as if genuinely surprised to see him.
“Draco? What are you doing here?” she mumbled, gingerly fingering a broken piece of the basin.
“Did you come over to visit? I’m sorry the place is such a mess,” she said, her voice eerily strained. She was now trying to wipe her own blood off of her hands.
“Pansy! Listen to me!” Draco said, shaking the woman. She dropped the piece of basin and put her hands on her chest, moaning in pain.
“What happened, my love?” she replied, looking around as if suddenly seeing the crazy scene at last.
“Pansy, we have to get out of here now. Do you have your wand?” Draco tried more gently. She nodded her head and pulled her wand out of her pocket.
“Okay, wait right here and pull yourself together. I have to get Narcissa,” he said.
He went over to where his mother lay, though he heard Pansy’s voice still behind him. As he picked up his mother’s body, he turned back to see a little red box flying towards the other woman. He walked back to her as she opened the box. He knew what she’d find.
By the time he reached Pansy, she had pulled herself into a standing position, though she was leaning heavily on the table. The flames were bearing down on them now. He had to get them out of there.
“Where is it?” she bellowed.
Draco wanted to keep quiet but the magic of ring compelled him to speak the truth.
He chanced to look down at his mother in his arms. Her eyes were open and fixed on him as she too seemed to be awaiting his answer.
“I gave it to Hermione,” he said, unable to hide the depth of his love.
He felt the full weight of both women’s scrutiny. His mother’s eyes closed but he could feel the rise and fall of her chest. He looked at Pansy. The flames behind her dark black hair surrounded her with an unnatural glow.
“I love you,” was all she said.
She raised her wand then. Draco felt as though he was moving in slow motion. His wand was still in his robes and he had both arms around his mother. He tried to put her down on the table to reach his wand- but he felt her spell hit him.
The force of her own spell knocked her backwards. He looked up into Pansy’s black eyes just as a wall of flames consumed her. He pulled his mother closer and tried to take a step back but found he was against the table. There was nothing he could do now for Pansy. He pulled what was left of his mother’s robes over her face. Hoisting her to one side, he managed to reach into his robe to pull out his wand.
Pointing it at the fire, he screamed the Extinguishing Spell. The fire seemed to pull back just enough for him to see movement on the other side. Taking a deep breath he ran into the inferno.
And he didn’t burn.
Pansy had cast the Shielding Spell over them- giving them everything she had left.
Cool hands belonging to a person with bright green eyes pulled his mother out of his arms. Then he couldn’t see anything else.
More cool hands wrapped around him and tugged him away from the fire. He slowly noticed that he was having trouble breathing. He coughed, trying to claim some air.
Before passing out, he felt Hermione and Louisa next to him.
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A/N: we’re not done yet!
obstruo “ Latin- to build against; to block up , close, stop.
vivere “ Latin- to live, be alive; to live well, enjoy life; to survive.
From:
University of Notre Dame Latin Grammar Guide. http://www.nd.edu/~archives/latgramm.htm