Once the hedges had closed behind them any sound from the crowd was blocked leaving them to stand in eerie silence. It was far too dark to be natural. The shadows were almost oppressive, even to Eliza who had spent half her life in the dark. Eliza and Tom both cast a lumos as they walked down the path until they reached the first fork in the maze. The hedges were high, stretching towards the sky and blocking out any sign of the crowd beyond them.
“See you on the other side?” Eliza asked turning to the right fork as Tom took the left.
“Not if I get there first”
And then they split, walking their separate ways.
The maze was a lot creepier without Tom by her side and she tried to stay as far away from the hedges as she could. She had the odd sensation that the leaves were reaching out to grab her. She couldn’t hear anything beyond her own footsteps, leather soles crunching the dry grass beneath her feet. Barty had told them there would be nothing too dangerous in the maze. The entire point was for Eliza to make it to the cup after all. But that didn’t exactly fill Eliza with confidence. There hadn’t meant to be anything too dangerous in the lake either and yet look at what Eliza had swam into.
Eventually she came to another fork in the maze. Whispering a quick ‘point me’ she decided to take the right fork again only to stumble back when she almost walked into Hagrid’s blast ended screwts. Cursing she edged backwards debating what spell to use to take them out. Their shells were practically impenetrable which was what made them so annoying to handle. She wasn’t saying she and Draco had actually proven that theory but there had definitely been a lesson were Hagrid had left them unsupervised. Really he should have encouraged his students curiosity.
Eliza tried a knockback jinx and then a stupefy but each jinx was easily deflected by the Screwts rock hard shells. Instead of continuing to fruitlessly curse them Eliza instead cast a quick 'alerte ascendare' and simply jumped over the damned things and continued on her way.
It was then she encountered a rather strange fog blocking her pathway down the maze. There was an intersection near her that would allow her to divert from her chosen path but the quickest way to the cup was through the strange mist. Casting a myriad of detection spells she determined it was nothing that could harm her, merely some illusion magic.
Eliza took a bracing step forward.
The world span around her for a few jarring seconds and she slammed her eyes closed. When she cracked them open again she found that the sky was beneath her. She was stood upside down on the ground.
To say it was mind boggling would be an understatement.
Eliza decided to bite the bullet and shuffled forward. She didn’t go plummeting to the floor (sky?) and so she charged forward. It was kind of like when she did a roll when she was flying, it made her feel vaguely nauseous. She was extremely relieved when she finally exited the mist and the world returned to rights.
She passed a few more minutes silently weaving through the maze continuing to head North West to the maze’s centre before encountering anything else. She had just rounded a corner when she almost stumbled head first into her room at the orphanage.
A boggart then.
The boggart stayed like that for a few moments, showing a world where Eliza was nothing but a muggle, nothing but ordinary before the image flickered. With a crack it shifted showing Daphne being held at wand point. Blonde hair matted and hands coated in blood. Crack! Draco pale and shivering on the floor, limbs contorted at awful angles, bone piercing straight through his leg. Crack! Blaise doubled over, blood running from his mouth as he choked on a poison she couldn’t save him from. Crack! Theo lying on the floor, his throat torn and shredded, eyes looking out unseeing.
There’s another loud crack and then Tom was stood in front of her. There was a manic smile on his face and his hands were coated in blood. There’s a cavity in his chest, a giant concaved gaping hole. She could see his bone white ribs, could see the hollow cavity where his heart should be pounding. She tried not to throw up as she watched maggots crawl up his ribs, wriggling absurdly as he continued to smile at her.
(Did you just summon my heart?)
The wind could blow right through him.
(I wanted to see if you had one)
“Riddikulus” Eliza shouted, wand hand wavering as she faced down the boggart.
The boggart shifted. Tom was still stood in front of her but this time he was surrounded by ducks – just like he had been from the duel all those months ago.
“Really darling?” His doppelganger said and his face was so exasperated that Eliza let out a bark like laugh and the boggart retreated.
She continued on through the maze.
10 minutes passed and Eliza hit two dead-ends as she traversed the maze. The maze grew darker and darker, the hedges looked more vicious as she continued on which reassured her that she was on the right track when she suddenly heard a yell.
Darting around the hedge Eliza paused when she saw Diggory caught in a floor trap in front of her. The grass climbing and weaving around his feet as he struggled. His wand was lying on the ground a foot away from him.
“Potter” he yelled when he saw her approach “help me out would you? For Hogwarts?”
Eliza paused to raise a singular eyebrow as he struggled fruitlessly.
“Sorry Diggory, no hard feelings” Eliza chirped and before he could even shout she hit him with a stupefy.
She was sure he’d thank her for it later.
Eliza moved on, using the ‘point me’ spell again to check she was heading in the right direction. She continued down the straight stretch of the maze and felt her heart leap to her throat when she saw what creature was now blocking her.
A sphinx.
She really was an incredible sight, the great clawed paws and lion body. The sphinx was fearsome.
It was also in her way.
“You are very near your goal” she spoke in a deep hoarse voice “the quickest way is past me”
“What do I have to do?” Eliza asked, gripping her wand as the sphinx sat down on its haunches.
“Answer my riddle. Answer correctly you advance, answer wrongly I attack. Stay silent and I may let you leave”
“Give me the riddle” Eliza demanded tilting her chin up.
The sphinx recited the riddle as asked and Eliza mulled over the sphinx’s words before replying steadily
“A spider”
The sphinx smiled at her and moved out of her way. Eliza didn’t even pause before she dashed forward – she had to get to the cup and Tom quickly. She couldn’t afford to waste much more time.
Eliza jogged forward through the maze now, the hedge walls closing in as she drew closer and closer to the centre. She tripped suddenly and barely managed to save herself in time. Lifting her wand higher Eliza inhaled sharply as she saw carnivorous vines slowly unwinding from the hedges all around, closing in on her. Breathing in deeply Eliza held her wand aloft and cast the largest incendio she could and dashed through the maze. The vines uncurled quickly to get away from her as Eliza left charred plants and ashes behind.
Dashing forward Eliza had to screech to a stop when at the next intersection she almost collided with Delacour who had also ran out from her chosen to path. Eliza immediately rose her wand as Delacour shifted into a duelling stance tossing her muddied blonde hair behind her.
“Get out of my way Potter” Delacour demanded but Eliza refused to move, even when a dangerous look came over her face.
Out of the pair of them Eliza was far more monstrous.
“I said move you freak” Delacour spat and Eliza immediately felt her anger rise – cold and overwhelming.
It was a quick duel.
Eliza didn’t bother sending up red sparks for the fallen champion.
The vines could have her.
After another few minutes she rounded yet another corner. Finally, ahead of her, she saw the gleaming cup.
But that was not the only thing in front of her.
A giant looming spider – an acromantula stood between her and the cup. It was gigantic, each of its legs as thick as her arms with eight menacing glittering eyes all trained on her. It snapped its horrifying razor sharp pincers once before it scuttled towards her.
Thinking quickly Eliza cast a cutting hex at one of its horrifically hairy legs but it didn’t even manage to impale the thing. Eliza darted to the side just as one of its legs landed where she had been standing. Eliza fired of as many hexes as she could think of but they weren’t even making the spider stumble and she had no time to stand her ground as she weaved between its legs to avoid its pincers. Desperately shooting a cutting hex at its stomach Eliza stumbled backwards as the spider reeled around with ridiculous speed. Its mandibles glimmered in the faint light.
She couldn’t risk using any dark magic in front of such a crowd but she was quickly running out of options. She had one last spell to try.
“Incendio” Eliza shouted pouring her magic into the spell and watched as the spider reeled back with a wailing screech. Eliza didn’t let up even when she was assaulted by the acrid scent of burning flesh. The spider gave one last blood curdling screech before it fell over, rolling onto its back – dead and still faintly smoking.
It was of course at that point that Tom finally rounded the corner. He paused in surprise as he took in Eliza and the charred gigantic spider behind her before
“Have fun?”
“Shut up”
Tom chuckled softly before meeting her on the path – the both of them turning to face the gleaming cup.
“You do remember the plan Eliza?”
(‘why can’t the dark lord just go alone Eliza?’ Daphne had asked one day in the commons. ‘How can we contain something that’s incorporeal?’ Eliza had responded with a smirk ‘I have to resurrect him first’)
“Yes” Eliza said seriously.
They grab the cup together.
Immediately Eliza is grabbed by the yanking feeling that only came with portkey travel and she landed heavily on the other side, jarring her ankles as she made impact with the ground. She let the cup fall from her hands clattering to the ground and drew her wand nervously. Tom had already disillusioned himself beside her to avoid being spotted. The element of surprise was one of the only things that could give them an edge over Voldemort.
They were in the old section of the Little Hangleton cemetery. The graves and tombstone statues were littered around them creating an ominous backdrop against the night that closed in around them. There was a yew tree to the right of them and all around they are surrounded by rolling hills, completely isolated. Eliza’s hands were trembling ever so slightly.
Out of the darkness scuttled a small figure; Peter Pettigrew.
Eliza had to stop herself from casting the reflexive curse she wanted so badly to let loose. Pettigrew had to complete the ritual, she knew that. But her wand arm twitched with the urge to do something to the snivelling traitor that was walking right towards her. It would be so easy.
Instead Eliza allowed the rat to slam her against a marble headstone, allowed herself to be tied to the angel’s outstretched arms like a martyr, like a perverted biblical sacrifice. Eliza didn’t struggle, didn’t spit or curse. Instead she looked Pettigrew in his watery blue eyes as he finished tying the last knot and said calmly
“I’m going to kill you tonight”
She relished saying the words, felt the truth of them settle heavily around them – it felt like a promise.
Pettigrew let out a terrified little squeak and ran away. He began dragging forward a large cauldron to the middle of the cemetery and the small bundle he had left on the ground which Eliza knew to be Lord Voldemort’s homunculus form.
Eliza was distracted from watching the ritual when she saw a gigantic snake slithering through the grass at her feet, coming to the rest at the bottom of the tombstone. The snake didn’t seem particularly hostile, in fact it was coiled up much like Jormy did when he was in a good mood. Eliza continued to focus on slowly loosening her shoddy bindings. A minute later she heard Tom’s hissing voice.
“He has turned Nagini into a horcrux” came Tom’s distressed voice and Eliza felt her heart drop. They had never planned for this, had never thought to expect something like this.
“I can’t do this- I don’t-” Tom’s hissing stuttered from beside her.
“It could kill her Eliza I-
Eliza could feel Tom’s distress as acutely as her own.
“Stop” she hissed back as discretely as she could as she kept an eye on Pettigrew who was still struggling with the cauldron.
“We continue as planned – you having two horcruxes left won’t affect anything. Everything is fine Tom”
He let out an audible relieved sigh beside her.
“Has she agreed to work with us?”
Nagini coiled further around the headstone, her head raising up so she could look at Eliza.
“You are helping my master – I have told master I will help protect little speaker as you are saving master”
Eliza nodded and Nagini sunk back down, Tom disappeared again to avoid risking detection.
Eliza breathed out slowly. Hopefully that would be the last diversion to their plans tonight. She already felt uncomfortable, could feel her heart pounding in her chest as anticipation thrummed though her. They couldn’t encounter any more problems.
They couldn’t afford for anything to go wrong.
“It is ready master” came Pettigrew’s snivelling voice as he finally readied the cauldron. Pettigrew’s whole body was shaking as he approached the homunculus. He picked it up with barely concealed revulsion before he slowly lowered the homunculus into the simmering cauldron.
“Bone of the father unknowingly given you will renew your son” Pettigrew incanted haltingly and Eliza itched to make him bleed. The grave beneath her cracked open, a fine trickle of dust rose into the air and fell softly into the cauldron that began spitting madly.
Pettigrew whimpered as he drew a long silver ritual knife from inside his robe, breaking down into petrified sobs that had Eliza wrinkling her nose in disdain.
“Flesh – of the servant- willingly given. You will revive – your master”
He stretched his right hand in front of him, the one with the missing finger and raised his dagger high above himself.
Eliza watched in intrigued fascination as Pettigrew sliced off his own hand with the enchanted dagger. A scream pierced the night and a sickening splash echoed from the now blood red potion as Pettigrew’s hand dropped in it.
He wailed for a few moments, clutching his bleeding arm close to himself before he seemed to remember his orders.
Pettigrew scuttled over to her clutching the dagger and his bleeding stump as sobs were torn from his throat.
“Blood of the enemy…forcibly taken. You will resurrect your foe”
She and Tom truly had no idea how this would affect the ritual but they had hoped for the best. Voldemort still considered Eliza Potter his enemy – the pair of them had figured the placebo effect would be enough.
Eliza restrained herself as Pettigrew brought down the dagger, slicing open her left arm. Eliza barely felt the pain through her seething roiling anger.
Not long now.
Eliza watched intently as Pettigrew stumbled back to the cauldron with a phial of her blood. The second Pettigrew completed the ritual Eliza would free herself. It was a shame she wouldn’t have as long with the rat as she would have liked but Eliza had no problem with brutal efficiency.
Pettigrew dropped her blood into the cauldron.
Now.
Eliza ripped through her binds with her magic as Pettigrew slumped to the ground. The cauldron behind them began to emit a brilliant white light.
Pettigrew scrambled for his wand the second he realised she was free but he was too late. Eliza aimed her ever faithful wand at the snivelling coward and cast the most brutal curse she knew.
Pettigrew let out a horrible mangled scream as he was quite literally skinned alive. His skin peeled away from him in a matter of seconds. The curse would soon go on to shrivel his organs and then break down his bones – a quick death. A painful death. For betraying Sirius, for pushing the doimino that led to the worst moments of Eliza’s life.
It was nothing that he didn’t deserve.
She was just sad she couldn’t look into his eyes while it happened.
The cauldron was steaming now and Tom finally came to stand beside her, dropping his disillusionment charm. Eliza could feel the tension coursing through him as they both slipped into rigid duelling stances. They had planned for this, been working towards this very moment the entire year.
That did nothing to smother the fear coursing through her veins.
Through the mist in front of them she saw the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletal and frightening. He moved from the cauldron pulling a robe over his head and seemed to pause taking in the sight of Pettigrew’s torn savaged body. Eliza watched as he stretched out his arms, seemingly studying his new body before he plucked Pettigrew’s wand from his still warm corpse.
The mist cleared.
Whiter than a skull, with livid scarlet eyes and a looming skeletal figure, he turned to face them.
Lord Voldemort had risen again.
“Ah the chosen one” Voldemort greeted in a high cold voice that Eliza still remembered from her first year – that she still heard echoes of in her nightmares. They watched as he wrapped his unnaturally long fingers around an unfamiliar wand studying them curiously “I would have thought Wormtail would have disposed of your pet brat by now”
He turned away from the sight of Pettigrew’s body, dismissing him.
“No matter”
“I’m afraid you’re wrong about me being a pet brat” Tom said liltingly standing rigidly next to her. Voldemort let out a high cold laugh before he finally looked at Tom properly. Then the man (if a man he could even be called) reeled back in shock – red slitted eyes widening.
“You” Voldemort almost screeched taking one large step forward “you insolent little horcrux” he spat out viciously. Tom’s wand hand twitched beside her but he doesn’t raise it. Not yet.
“Are you willing to listen to me?” Tom asked clearly “Join me. Join me and we can finally achieve what we have worked for for so long”
Eliza pretended not to notice the soft plea in his voice. She knows it hurt Tom to see himself like this, to see what he would become.
“I have achieved our goals” Voldemort roared angrily “I am immortal, horcrux, I am your god” Voldemort growled, lips curling to reveal too sharp teeth as he moved forward again.
Tom finally raised his wand hand. They had expected this, expected resistance from the husk of a soul that contained most of Tom’s memories. They had hoped Voldemort would recognise his own soul piece, that he would acknowledge his words. She can now see how far gone Voldemort really was. It’s a strange thought, knowing that her Tom could have grown – did grow into the monstrous figure before her.
She wondered what might have happened if things had just been that bit different. If she hadn’t gone to the orphanage. If she hadn’t found her court.
If Ginny Weasley had never bumped into her and dropped an old ratty diary on a corridor floor.
“You are wrong Voldemort” Tom said and Eliza shuffled backwards discretely but paused at Tom’s next words – an echo of what she had one told him.
“We don’t become God’s. Men only become monsters”
Both Tom and Voldemort cast their first spell at the same time.
There was no warm up, no easing in or any bows. There was just violence, violence and anger and the desperate need to stay alive. Tom and Voldemort clashed in a frightening flurry of spells, Eliza couldn’t even name half of them, and she backed away as they duelled one another. Voldemort wasn’t even using his own wand, hadn’t even had time to become familiar with his new body and yet he was still vicious. Still terrifying.
They tore the graveyard apart around them as they traded spells. The magic was so thick in the air she could practically taste it on her tongue as bright flashes of light erupt around them. And as she watched them with her heart in her throat the only thing she could think of was that at one point in time this was supposed to be her. That she was the one expected to be facing this monster and she wondered how the hell she was ever supposed to survive it.
And then she remembered she was never supposed to.
Her hand clenched and unclenched around her wand as she watched the duel. Watched Tom fight harder than he ever had before, sweat pouring off him.
They hadn’t wanted to risk Eliza duelling against Voldemort. Not when they knew Voldemort would be aiming to kill, not when they had an unbreakable vow hanging over their heads. They didn’t know what would happen but Eliza had never felt as helpless as she did now. Never felt so helpless than she did watching Tom face off against a monster who could predict every move he was going to make.
Tom was losing ground. It was clear to see that Voldemort was playing with him until he could destroy his unruly horcrux.
“I am indispensable” she heard him hiss between spell fire “but you- well I can always make another”
Voldemort cast fulgur, a giant bolt of lightning headed towards Tom and Eliza was reminded of their mock duel in the chamber. Tom caught the lightning bolt in a tight whirlpool of water. The water crackled viciously and Eliza watched incredulously as Tom shaped the water to take the form of her kelpie, directing it to charge at Voldemort.
Voldemort conjured roaring vicious flames and the water evaporated into thick steam, the smell of ozone lingering in the air. In an overwhelming show of control Tom transfigured the steam around them in to pointed arrows and let them fly at Voldemort in a never ending torrent. Voldemort swept them all away with a large slash of his wand but a few managed to sneak through his shield.
Eliza and Tom both watched in horror as Voldemort glanced down at the arrow that had pierced his shoulder like it was an irritating pest. He reached up with one hand and yanked it out viciously, tossing it onto the floor. Only a thin trickle of blood left the wound.
Voldemort grinned wildly and cast another spell.
(Men only become monsters)
The two went back to duelling viciously, dark magic permeating the air and Eliza’s heart stuttered when she saw a nasty hex cut through Tom’s shields. Her magic leapt out around her even though she could do nothing to overtly interfere with the duel. She doubted she could watch any longer though – not when Voldemort was flinging dark curse after dark curse at Tom who was growing weary. Tom was slowing down but Voldemort wasn’t tiring. He moved quickly in a never ending assault. Hopelessly she thought that it was only a matter of time.
Then – she felt her magic brush up against something that made it leap and crackle. There was a sort of awareness tickling at it slightly, something old and familiar, dark and heady.
Eliza didn’t waste a moment before she plunged her magic into the ground around her, letting it course through her and act how it wished. She felt it tugging at her, rushing down through her veins and she panted heavily as she felt her magic rip through her as it never had before leaving her shaking and struggling to stand.
A rotting arm broke through the ground next to her.
Eliza had to muffle a scream.
All around her graves awoke their sleepers – dead rotting corpses crawled out from their shallow graves as Eliza tried not to heave. Neither Tom nor Voldemort had noticed yet and Eliza watched as the inferi – for that was the only thing they could be – slowly crawled and staggered towards Voldemort.
Eliza clutched onto the grave in front of her, leaning on it heavily as her magic slowly calmed down and ten disgusting corpses converged around Voldemort. She thought she saw Pettigrew among them, a bone white skeleton with pieces of skin clinging absurdly onto the bleached bones.
They had both forgotten about little Eliza Potter, crouched and hiding in the graveyard. Had forgotten all about the girl who had just woken the very dead themselves.
Voldemort reeled back in shock as he took in the limping mangled muggle corpses surrounding him before he leapt into action. The inferi screeched and wailed as fire leapt and scorched them but as he fended off one another took its place. Voldemort cast a ring of fire around himself warding off the inferi and Eliza watched sickened as they threw themselves through the flames. They would do her bidding. Old collapsed arteries infused with her own magic, propelling them relentlessly forward.
Voldemort was too preoccupied with the dead to return his attention onto Tom. Brave, smart, protective Tom who took Voldemort’s distraction to finally land a finishing blow.
The second she saw Voldemort freeze, his flames stutter, she called back her magic and felt sick when the bodies she had called forth all slumped down limply, now nothing more than normal corpses. Her magic still felt the same, the faint lightning crackle that always filled her veins, but Eliza’s heart still pounded wildly in her chest.
She staggered forward until she was at Tom’s side. The pair of them were pale, shaking and haggard but at least Voldemort was petrified at their feet.
“Hello little necromancer” Tom greeted, voice rough as gravel. Eliza didn’t reply – too exhausted to formulate the words – but she snapped to attention when Tom shifted and winced with a low groan.
“Do we- do we have to do this now?” Eliza asked hesitantly, eyeing Tom with blatant worry “could we not do it later?”
“You think that hex is going to hold him for long?” Tom hissed viciously “He didn’t have his own wand, he had been freshly resurrected and we barely managed to beat him. But yes Eliza we can wait”
Eliza didn’t let his harsh words bother her. She could read the panic in those dark eyes, the weariness in the set of his brow.
Instead Eliza gently took the chalk that Tom had brought with them from his clenched hands and began to draw the circle for the ritual on the ground. Tom didn’t protest. He was still breathing harshly, his hands trembling from his white-knuckle grip on his wand.
Nagini slithered up to them, resting just beyond the line of the circle keeping her unblinking eyes trained on Voldemort.
“Is Little Speaker healing master now?” Nagini hissed, tail twitching in agitation.
“Yes precious” Tom hissed as he came to stand in Eliza’s now completed runic circle “we are going to heal now”
Tom lowered himself to the ground with a low curse and Eliza watched him, worry increasing, but Tom waved her off. Levitating the frozen figure of Voldemort (and Merlin he was even more monstrous close up) Tom took one of his ritual knives from his ripped and torn cloak.
He began the ritual.
Eliza watched on anxiously as Tom begun the ritual to re-join his soul. Listened on as he began to incant raising the dagger and slicing it across his right palm before doing the same to Voldemort’s left – digging it in harshly to draw enough blood. Voldemort was like a marble statue, frozen as he was, he looked like he could be one of the statues in the cemetery surrounding them. Slowly a thin trickle of blood leaked from his palm, dark and oozing.
With one last stuttering breath Tom slammed their hands together.
A blinding white light erupted from the ritual circle, encompassing Voldemort and Tom. A beat later she heard a blood curdling harrowing scream. She wanted to break into the circle immediately, wanted to grab Tom and get back to Hogwarts, return to safety. Instead she waited listening to the hoarse screaming for minutes, for eternity, for seconds until the bright light faded.
There were still bodies littered around them, their graves still upturned. Surrounded by death Tom Riddle was reborn. It was almost poetic really, poetic as it was violent.
Voldemort was gone, ashes and dust and tattered robes left behind and Eliza immediately knew that was why Tom never wanted to do the ritual on her and Nagini. Tom himself was lying flat out on the ground, his eyes were squeezed shut and Eliza approached slowly so as to not startle him. He’s pale. Too pale.
“Tom?”
He didn’t stir.
Eliza edged closer. It was probably just magical exhaustion – she could just poke his nose and she’s sure he’d wake up with an offended squawk and indulgent smile.
“Tom?” Eliza spoke again throwing herself to the ground beside him when he doesn’t reply.
“Little speaker” Nagini hissed worriedly by her side “he smells of blood”
Panic clawed at her lungs.
Eliza ripped at his robes with shaking hands. They’re soaked through.
Pushing them away Eliza choked when she saw the large puncture wound just above Tom’s stomach. He’s covered in blood.
“No, no, no” Eliza murmured frantically, the word falling repeatedly from her lips as she took in the sight of the bloody wound. She pressed her hands down against the wound and tried not to cry when her hands were instantly coated in Tom’s blood, horribly warm and stickily against her palms.
“No, Tom. Tom, wake up” Eliza pleaded as her eyes burned with unshed tears as she tried to increase pressure on the wound. He didn’t move, his eyelids didn’t even flicker.
“You know I’m shit at healing spells” she choked out, breathing stuttered as she tried to fight back the panic.
“Come on, please” she begged “you have to wake up”
She repeated the words like it was a prayer.
He didn’t move, he was barely breathing.
She didn’t know what to do. He was bleeding out in front of her, dying in front of her, and she didn’t know what to do.
She sobbed as she tried to stop the bleeding, bundling up his robes and pressing them against the wound, her heir rings digging into her hand harshly as she increased the pressure, something else on her wrist getting caught on a loose thread as she shuffled them around.
It took a few moments to register what it was through her panic hazed mind but then it hit her with a startling clarity.
Her Malfoy Bracelet.
Gripping onto Tom as tightly as she could she slammed her eyes shut as she fed her depleted magic into the bracelet.
“Toujours pure” she shouted desperately.
The portkey pulled them both away.