Sitting up with a groan, Animo winced at the ache in her back. She had refused to sleep in her parent's room again, instead choosing to curl up onto the small mattress she and Gellert had shared in their childhood. Tom had taken the sofa downstairs, although she was certain he would have altered it for better comfort. She was again hit with an intense longing for her wand. Intricate charms were nearly impossible for her without it. It was another problem she had avoided. There was no way she could stand a chance at holding off Gellert until her wand was back in her hands. She could only hope Albus would work his persuasive influence at the Ministry.
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, thankful that she had been able to bathe last night. The stench of grime and sweat no longer lingered on her fresh robes. Yet she was rather disappointed that the smell of Tom's cologne had left her skin. Animo had tried not to linger on the memory of yesterday, but her heart was insistent on reliving every painful detail.
Fumbling through her robes, Animo searched for Gellert's letter. The parchment was rough and flaked as she unfolded her hurried creases. She scanned the handwriting once more, wondering how long ago it had been written. And how long had her brother been in possession of Fawkes? Perhaps that was another reason for Albus's hesitation. If it had been revealed he had given Gellert such a powerful creature..
Animo's eyes caught on the second sentence.
Dementors.
Springing to her feet, she took the stairs two at a time, no longer plagued by exhaustion as she tumbled into the kitchen. Tom barely looked up from the book he was reading, a journal Animo was fairly certain he had snuck from her father's stash.
"I want to go to Azkaban."
Tom didn't bother to look up and simply flicked to another chapter. "I would suggest getting some more rest." His droll expression hinted at none of their interaction yesterday.
Animo sighed, feeling rather insecure and knowing her poorly laid plan was foolish. "It's the only way I can think to weaken Gellert." She tossed the parchment down upon the table and waited for Tom to read its contents. "He can't face dementors. I know that he can't produce a Patronus."
"And to my memory, neither can either of us," Tom pointed out, examining the parchment with a critical eye. "That is a death wish."
Ignoring his dismissal, Animo scanned her mother's bookshelf that stood behind the kitchen table. Prying out a tome on magical creatures, she leafed through the pages. The writing was old and Animo knew the information was decades outdated. Yet surely wizards had not been able to gather much more about dementors. There was so much that was unknown.
"They can communicate with us, you realize?" Animo looked up to pin Tom with a questioning glance. "That's the reason they agreed to guard Azkaban. The minister offered them the position and they knew they could feed on the souls of the prisoners."
Tom raised a sarcastic eyebrow in response. "And do you plan on walking up to the gates to ask them to help you? Something tells me Grindelwald's soul isn't beaming with happiness."
Pushing down her frustration, Animo scanned the unfairly short passage on the creatures. "I have to try. I don't know if Albus will be able get close enough to Gellert to obtain the blood vial." She muttered a quick shrinking charm, stuffing the book into her pocket.
Tom jerked up his head as she pulled open the front door, striding across the grass. "Where are you going?"
The mud beneath her heels squelched with her weight as Animo faced her companion, pulling her hair back from her eyes and into a low bun. "I don't know how much time we have left." She tried to hide her fear and her tone came out clipped and cold. "But I can't just sit and wait for Albus to fight this alone."
"Isn't that what he did in your time?" Tom stalked down the steps, the hem of his robes sweeping across the peeled wood. "Why not let him take charge? The Ministry already has the map of Nurmengard."
Grimacing, Animo tried not to think about the frustration that bit at her chest every time she remembered the map. Had all that time been worth it? Dauphina's betrayal had changed everything. She was supposed to storm the fortress, not linger in the confines of her childhood yard. "I've already changed so much." Averting her eyes, Animo exposed her greatest fear. "What if Albus can't defeat him this time?"
A bird cawed overhead, reminding Animo of Fawkes. Then there was the crunch of gravel as Tom stood beside her, extending his elbow with a begrudging tilt of his head.
"You're coming?" Animo's eyes were wide as she glanced over to assess his sharp features.
"Please, you're without a wand and look like you just tumbled off a hillside." Tom sent a sharp smirk that Animo hadn't seen in weeks. "I am a gentleman, you know."
Pressing her lips together, Animo resisted the urge to grin. She laced her fingers around his elbow, feeling strangely relieved to have him beside her. Tom's arrogance, while irritating, helped ease her fear.
Then there was a tightening in her stomach and a small pop following their disapparation. Instantly, Animo was nearly drowned by a large wave, a rush of seawater dousing her body while she stumbled for purchase on the rock beneath her feet.
Gasping for air, Animo reached out for Tom, who had nearly tumbled into the sea. A great storm raged above them, rivaling that of the one they had witnessed last night.
"Excellent spot!" Animo shouted sarcastically over the howling wind, holding up her arm as another wave threatened to pull them into the swirling ocean. This time, the water hit her protection charm and splatted into an array of large droplets, drenching their robes but no longer a danger.
Tom gritted his teeth, pulling his hair away from his face as he observed the sea behind her shoulder. "It's a bit difficult to apparate into the wizarding world's greatest prison."
Animo swallowed, realizing why his expression was so dark. She turned around.
A massive building rose from amongst the waves. The storm made it appear was if the rock foundation were simply floating in the sea. The prison's ominous presence hung heavily in the salty air as lightening crackled directly over its highest point. It seemed nature itself was eager to destroy the hulking mass of stone and waves beat at every edge, lapping at the rock. Most terrifying of all were the lone sentries that hovered throughout the air, their dark cloaks rippling in tatters. One reached out a hand and for a moment, Animo froze, believing they had been seen. But the dementor soared into one of the thin windows with a menacing cry, its disappearance followed by a human scream.
Animo shivered, her soul sinking into her chest. She couldn't help but look at the waves, wishing to disappear into their depths. Perhaps emptiness was all there ever was.
"Animo!" Tom pulled her from the rock's edge and Animo snapped up her head, realizing her toes were centimeters from dipping into the foaming depths. The Slytherin dragged her further towards the center of their small base, his scowl deepening. "What were you thinking?"
For some reason, Animo felt the urge to cry. She had just wanted the pain to be over. "I—" she broke off her train of thought, knowing they couldn't afford to linger. "How do we get closer to the prison?"
Clearly dissatisfied with her answer, Tom pinched his nose but turned back towards Azkaban with an analytical eye. "It would take a half decent wizard years to reach those gates without detection."
"The great Tom Riddle never thought about storming the wizarding world's most dangerous prison?" Animo raised a surprised brow. "How disappointing."
Tom didn't seem to find the humor in her barb and instead stared at the walls of Azkaban, his gaze flickering over the clouds. "I'm not immune to fear."
"Are you afraid of the dementors?" Animo edged nearer to the Slytherin, keeping one eye on the menacing guards.
A muscle throbbed in Tom's jaw. "I fear how similar we are." Without another word, he strode towards the edge of the rock.
Deeply unnerved, Animo returned her attention towards the fortress. She had known Sirius Black used an Animagus form to escape. But she had never taken the time to find hers. Albus had always insisted that transformation could be achieved in much more delicate ways.
A fragment of Tom's words stuck with her. That it was nearly impossible to enter Azkaban undetected. But the whole point was to get the attention of the dementors.
Animo sank down on the rock, thinking carefully. She couldn't appear as an intruder or alert too many dementors at once for fear of causing a feeding frenzy. But perhaps if she gave up a bit of happiness..
Before she could second guess her plan, Animo lunged from the rock, diving headfirst into the waves.
The cold water bit at her limbs, numbing her movements as she extended her arms in an attempt to cut through the sea. Already beginning to regret her decision, Animo silently cast a strengthening charm, bolstering her movements so that she shot through the dark space. Several slimy strands brushed past her ankle and she could only pray that the ocean was not infested with grindylows or other dark creatures.
Just when her haphazard charm began to wear, weakening her legs, Animo brushed against rock. The uneven surface tore at the delicate skin on her spine and Animo swore she felt blood begin to trickle down her back. However, it was difficult to discern blood from the swirling water around her. Her vision had begun to blur from lack of oxygen and Animo silently cursed herself for not casting a bubble-head charm. Yet her lack of wand would have made such an incantation difficult.
To her horror, her body began to sink, swollen with water and her lungs empty of air. Animo threw out a hand, shouting "ASCENDIO!"
The spell came out in a rush of bubbles as water seeped into her open mouth. Just as her eyes began to close, Animo felt her body hurtle through the watery depths, shooting into the air. For a brief moment, she seemed weightless in the salty atmosphere. Then, her body crashed down onto rock.
Animo could barely move, coughing up the contents of her stomach as she lay with her face pressed into the ground. Her hands weakly splayed out at each side of her head in the attempt to push herself upright. Then Animo remembered her plan and went entirely limp.
After a long moment, she dared to crack open her eyes. The seawater stung her vision, but she could barely make out the shadow of a great wall a few meters away. She had made it onto the banks of Azkaban.
Further out in the midst of the sea, a series of bright flashes pulsed through the stormy mass. Tom was succeeding in drawing the dementors attention. Many of the creatures were already swooping in the direction of the light, their scabbed hands outstretched and eager for souls. Animo's heart pounded as she felt a pair soar over her head. She had to wait until most were distracted. It wouldn't be long before they sensed her presence. For now, she was but a washed-up corpse. She assumed that such an occurrence was common in a place so full of despair.
Finally, the icy darkness that trailed after the dementors lifted slightly and Animo dared to raise her head, still trying to hold her breath. To her left one of the hooded creatures remained, hovering outside of a barred window. Strange mutterings echoed from inside the chamber in a voice that no longer sounded human.
Animo clenched her eyes, attempting to shield her mind with Occlumency. It was one of her few defenses against the hunger of the dementors. If she buried her emotions, it was harder for them to feed. Then she stirred slightly, drawing the attention of the hooded creature. It snapped its head in her direction.
Beneath the hood was nothing but darkness, at least nothing that Animo could see. Yet she knew the tales of the face that lay beneath the frayed cloaks. With a cry, the creature swooped down towards her body.
Animo felt a wave of terror, her arms shaking as the creature hovered above her head. "Wait," she protested weakly, raising a pale hand. She swallowed. "Wait."
This time the command was stronger and to her surprise, the creature paused, its scabbed hands outstretched towards her face. It was as though the creature sensed she had something to offer.
Stretching out her fingers, Animo let a glimmer of memory slip through the walls of her mind. She thought of her tea parties with Albus when she was a child. The events had been some of her few interactions when she had been trapped within the castle walls. The dementor tilted its head forward, inhaling a deep breath. Or what should have been one. Instead, the air around them rattled, as though the creature had no lungs to take in oxygen. Animo felt the memory of her joy slip away and the image of Albus's smile dulled until it no longer seemed significant.
Perhaps the man had never really cared for her in the first place.
Animo shook the thought away and once again steeled her nerves. She couldn't fail this time. Her and Tom's lives hung on her success.
"Please," Animo murmured, thinking now of her brother. She hoped the dementor could read her emotions. Her feelings of betrayal and heartache, of the monster that Gellert had become. Yet threaded through all the negative memories was the deep love she held for him. It outweighed everything that had happened.
Animo outstretched her hands towards the dementor. The creature floated backwards, surprised at her boldness. The hunger did not leave its shoulders, however, and Animo spoke warily. "You must help stop him."
The dementor tilted its head and somehow Animo understood what it was asking. What would it receive in return?
This was what Animo had been so afraid of. A sort of encroaching terror lapped at her heart and she sensed the time limit of Tom's distraction was quickly expiring.
"You can have this."
Animo reached up, touching the creature's wicked finger. She shuddered at the gaping emptiness that instantly filled her chest.
Was there even a point to what she was doing? She was a failure.
"Please," Animo whispered, willing her thoughts to focus on all the emotions she had suppressed. For so long, she had built a wall around who she was. She had hidden from the world. Even this year at Hogwarts, she had buried herself in a new identity. That was safe. Her shame. Her anger. Her fear. Those were not. Now she fed the dementor her feelings, grasping for a glimpse of hope.
The creature sank closer, sucking in greedily.
Perhaps she should just give up, Animo wondered dully. She crumpled back against the stone wall. Why try anymore?
Then, a great cry resounded through the air and Animo tilted her head weakly.
"Fawkes."
The phoenix soared down, clawing at the hooded creature with his talons. The dementor gave a scornful scream that created a string of goosebumps down Animo's spine. She forced herself to stand, trembling against the wall as the dementor retreated. It wouldn't be long before it returned with the rest of its kind.
The bird landed on the rock beside her, craning its neck with a sort of disapproval. Animo grimaced, knowing her plan had been foolish. The emptiness had not left her chest and it tightened her throat with anguish.
"We have to get to Tom."
Fawkes gave a soft cry before beating his wings once more, grasping Animo by the top of her robes. Quite thankful that she did not have to hold her weight, Animo closed her eyes briefly as the salty atmosphere enveloped her once more.
Then, her heart dropped in her stomach as she searched for the rock on which she had left Tom. A robed figure was encircled by a storm of dementors, so many that it was difficult to make out one creature from the seething mass.
"We have to get down there," Animo reached for her wand before remembering once more that she had none. A sense of dread raced through her veins. What had she done?
Fawkes gave a cry, circling through the air before he plummeted towards the rock, too fast for any of the dementors to make a move. Animo fell from his claws and landed on her right shoulder with a sickening pop. Biting her lip, Animo stumbled beside Tom, pulling at his sleeve with her good arm.
Then she realized that the dementors hadn't moved. Instead, they remained still in the air, as if waiting for some sort of silent command. Animo looked over at her companion.
His dark eyes were laced with a sort of fear that Animo had never before seen in the cold Slytherin. A murky cloud hung over his gaze, obscuring the passion that usually burned in its depths.
"I know," Tom muttered. Animo couldn't tell if he was speaking to himself or to the dementors in front of them. His hand twitched and she grabbed it, terrified at its icy temperature.
"Tom?"
"I killed her," whispering to himself, Tom sank to his knees, mindless of the water that soaked his robes. "And I felt nothing."
"Tom?" Animo tried again, tugging at his hand desperately while she lowered herself beside him. "Look at me."
Tom tilted his gaze away from hers towards the dementors over her shoulder. It seemed as though he could see beneath the hoods, for his eyes sharpened with pain. His expression was hollow. "We are nothing."
Animo whipped around, attempting to break whatever hold the creatures had over him. "STOP IT!" she cried, tears filling her eyes. Yet she couldn't deny the emptiness that resounded inside her. Perhaps they were all the same. Why not just give up? There was freedom in feeling nothing.
Letting out another cry, Fawkes circled above their heads, seeming unable to breach the barrier of dementors.
The sound sent a thud of shame in Animo's heart. How could she forget all that she had been taught?
She held out a hand, her palm outstretched in front of Tom. "Expecto Patronum." As she had feared, there was not even a glimmer of light. The dementors stirred as one, nearly amused at her poor attempt.
Tom remained frozen, fighting some sort of unseen battle. He would not be able to help.
A gale of wind howled over the rock, making Animo's skin prick with pain. She clenched her eyes, trying to remember what Albus had taught her.
Don't you want to give up? A small voice taunted at the edge of her mind, pulling at the despair she was attempting to shove away. To be numb is to be free.
"That's a lie," Animo muttered, water spraying her face as she tightened her grip on Tom's hand. His skin was growing more frigid. "Emotions are what make us feel alive. Better to hurt than to feel nothing at all."
The emptiness in her chest grew more cavernous and Animo hissed with pain. The dementors drew in closer and she could feel the brush of fingers against her throat.
It takes but a single moment, Ani, for everything to change.
Albus's words swirled from a forgotten memory, stirring gently against Animo's soul. The thought made her shoulders straighten and Animo opened her eyes, staring at the dementor in front of her.
"You have no power over me."
A smile burst across Animo's cheeks. She extended her fingers in a simple motion, still keeping her other hand firmly in Tom's. A strange peace settled in her chest and she no longer doubted her abilities.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A small songbird burst into flight, taking form from several streams of light. Animo had used to watch similar birds outside her window as a child, wishing that she could fly away with them. Now, the creature had become her guardian as it hurtled towards the dementors. The hooded figures gave screams of rage as they soared away from the burst of light, diverting into clumps of darkness.
Then, Animo felt the claws of Fawkes rest softly against her shoulder and the world burst into flame. She held back a cry of fear as orange blazes encircled her robes, making the sea and all its inhabitants disappear.
As quickly as it had appeared, the flame was gone and Animo stood once more in the front yard of her childhood home. Fawkes was no where to be seen. A golden feather rested in the sand below her feet, the only sign that the bird had existed at all.
Animo collapsed to her knees, feeling incredibly weak as she turned to Tom. "Are you alright?"
The strange trance had lifted from Tom's gaze, although the pain still lingered in his tightened features as he blankly turned to address Animo's question. She feared the emptiness in his eyes.
Lacing his nimble fingers through his dark curls, Tom sank to his knees. "You don't understand. The things I heard.. what I think." His tone was brittle as a crisp breeze encircled their cloaks, lifting their hems above the dusty ground. "It will never stop."
Animo paused, staring out at the sunset and watching as the golden colors of the Hungarian sun dipped below the horizon. The rays were as familiar as the back of her hand, a bittersweet iridescence that whispered of her past. "Maybe it's not having the thoughts that matters. It's what you do with them." She remembered the peace that had sunk into her chest. "Perhaps it matters what voice you listen to."
Tom didn't respond, although she saw the tension in his shoulders slacken as he sank back against the porch. It was a strange sight, the wind-tossed boy slouched amongst the rumble of her old home. His aristocratic features were a stark contrast to the crumbling walls, but there was a deep sense of forlorn that resonated in each.
Dipping down beside him, Animo curled her knees close to her chest, letting their hips brush. Her throat was dry and when she parted her lips to speak, her tone was barely a whisper. "What voice do you choose, Tom?"
The Slytherin stiffened, his hand twitching against his knee as he draped his elbow over his leg. His dark gaze was fixed on the sky ahead, although there was no recognition in its depths. There seemed to be some sort of inner battle being waged behind the umber orbs. Then, his expression shifted and the brunette tilted his head towards hers.
Animo's breath caught as their eyes locked. Tom's face filled with a great intensity. He reached up a hand, his fingers barely brushing the side of her cheek before he lowered his lips to hers.
This kiss was different from the others, not infused by a wild passion or a desperate desire for comfort. Animo parted her mouth slowly, lacing her fingers through his curls and smoothing out the damage his fit had caused. She could nearly taste the uncertainty on his tongue, the wariness in his posture that spoke of his doubt. Yet there was a softness in the way he trailed his thumb down her throat, pulling her closer to his chest with his other hand.
Animo placed her palm against his arm, leaning into his grasp. Perhaps there was a chance of redemption for them both.