A/N: So, THIS IS A SEQUEL. If you are reading this, and haven't read Escaping Darkness, you will be completely confused. :3 Um...Warnings: this story contains a malexmale relationship, male pregnancy (they are wizards after all), violence, and hints at a dark past. If you no likey, you no read-y. Um...what else...read, fan, vote, and comment if you like. Refavoment! :D I forgot what else I needed to say...whatevs. Ciao, loves!
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It had been months since Harry Potter had defeated the Dark lord, destroying himself in the process. His body was buried in a small cemetery near the Burrow, and his grieving husband and Inima, Draco Malfoy, was attending Hogwarts for his final year.
However, this year was turning out to be anything but ordinary. Draco was currently staring at a young woman, who had appeared out of the bonding ring he wore on his finger.
“I bring you a message from your Inima.”
Draco couldn’t breathe. “Harry?” he whispered, so quietly Hermione barely heard him from her position beside him.
“Yes.”
“But he’s dead.” Draco’s eyes hardened. “What kind of sick joke is this? Are you some simple charm that someone rigged? If so, I swear, I’m going to track them down and-”
“I am not a joke, nor a spell. I come from the Land of the Dead.” Draco stopped, mid-sentence, eyeing her oddly.
“If you’re from the Land of the Dead, you can answer my question…yes?”
The woman nodded slowly. “Perhaps.”
“Why can’t I die?” Hermione looked at him sharply, but Draco ignored her. The woman chuckled softly, her laugh every bit as musical as her voice.
“Your Inima can better explain that than myself. It is nothing to do with the Land of the Dead, but rather the matter lies in the heart of hearts itself.”
“Why are you guys never clear?”
“Draco Malfoy, you are an Inima.” No duh, he wanted to retort. “As an Inima, there are special rules by which you live. Your particular Inima happens to be a Viatacatre as well. That fact, in addition to the ring on your fingers, and the pendant around his neck, all play a part in your life or death. The answer you seek can best be answered by Harry, as I said before. The matter lies in the heart of hearts.”
Draco fought to keep from rolling his eyes. “Look, I don’t know what you are, or even who you are-”
“I am Sirene De Moarte. But you may call me Sirena.”
I don’t care what I can call you; I don’t even know what that means, Draco thought in annoyance. As if she had heard his thoughts, the woman spoke again.
“I am the Siren of Death. I call to those whose time it is to leave this world, and journey to the Land of the Dead. I comfort those who have died before their time, and I ferry souls from one world to the next.”
Whoop-de-do.
“You said you had a message from Harry?” interrupted Hermione. Draco looked at her incredulously.
“You mean you believe her?” he asked in a low whisper, leaning close.
“Of course I do. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Sirena?”
“No…”
“Come now. You’re a Pureblood, you have to have grown up hearing about her.”
Draco now felt stupid. “Whatever,” he muttered.
Sirena had watched their exchange with amused eyes. Draco now took the time to study her, feeling curious about the supposedly well-known Siren.
Her skin was pale, deathly pale, and there was a sort of…coldness about her. Yet, her piercing blue eyes sparkled in a warm, friendly, and inviting way. She seemed likeable enough, though perhaps that was her Siren nature. Her hair was stark white, with pitch-black ends, and it coiled about her face in the wind, seemingly alive, like a writhing patch of snakes. Despite the creepy, deathly aura about her, she was beautiful, and enticing. Draco and Hermione found themselves unconsciously leaning closer to her.
“Your Inima misses you greatly, as you miss him,” Sirena said softly, breaking the trance. “He wants to share something with you…something that you can tell the others if you wish.” She stretched out her hand to Draco, and he felt a sort of tugging within him. He slowly moved forward, barely aware that he did so. Sirena laid her hand upon his brow, her skin icy compares to his. Draco held in a shout of surprise, as suddenly, an image flashed in his mind. He fell backwards, the image growing stronger. All sight and sound faded, until he could focus on the figure. Blackness surrounded the figure, but the figure was recognizable, nonetheless.
Harry.
The young man looked like he always did – mussed black hair, brilliant green eyes covered by the round frames of his glasses, his clothes slightly rumpled. An easy smile spread across Harry's face, and Draco was filled with a longing to hold him close. But he couldn’t move.
Instead, Harry approached. Draco, he said, without opening his mouth. His voice resonated in Draco’s mind. I miss you…I wish I could be there, to explain everything to you…I’ve seen your sadness and misery…and I wish I could make it go away. But I’m trapped here, Draco. Trapped in the Land of the Dead. I cannot escape Death’s grasp on my own…I need your help. I need you, Draco…You’re the only one who can help me. Not Hermione, not Pansy or Blaise. Only an Inima can help me escape.
Harry’s outline wavered. I don’t have much time, so I’ll speak quickly. Listen to Sirena; she’s a friend of mine. I’ve come to know her within the past few months. She cannot say much, but her advice is priceless. Again, his outline wavered, and this time, his voice faded slightly as well. Look for the Secret of the Guardians, Harry said, his voice becoming a whisper. The pendant you gave me…it ties in to that. Look for anything you can find regarding the pendant, Viatacatre, and the Guardians. Look for the key…
Abruptly, the image disappeared, and Draco blinked. He was back beneath the tree, and Hermione was eyeing him with concern. He looked up at Sirena. “Is that it?” he asked desperately. She nodded sadly.
“I am sorry, young one. But to give a message that long takes energy. Your Inima is still weak after his death. He had very little energy to give. I had to supplement it with some of my own, though it is forbidden.”
Draco sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Is there any advice you can give me?” he asked in a near whisper.
“At the moment, Harry has told you all you need to know. I am forbidden to say much more. I am already breaking my word to bring you this message.” Sirena's eyes were apologetic. "I have certain limitations, and my lord will not be pleased if he hears about all I've told you."
“He said something about a key…and what’s this about him being trapped?”
“Harry died before his time. He does not belong in the Land of the Dead. You can bring him back…but he cannot come back on his own. He needs you to help him. As for the key, it is the key to the Land of the Dead. Something that will unlock the world to the living, so that one soul may enter. If that soul manages to convince Death to relinquish his hold on their Inima, then they may return with that soul. If not, they must return on their own, alone.”
“So I can go down there, and come back, no matter what?”
“No matter what. With or without Harry.”
“I’ll be coming back with him,” Draco said firmly. “Where can I start?”
“I suggest you start with as much information as you can find regarding the Viatacatre. It will not be easy. Information on that race is limited, and highly guarded. Perhaps, however, Harry inherited some vaults at Gringott’s?”
Draco nodded. Sirena continued. “You, being his husband, are now privileged to share those vaults, especially now that he has passed. The blood of the Viatacatre is from his father’s side, so use that knowledge to help you. I must go, Draco Malfoy. My time grows short, and I need to return to my duties before I am missed. If you ever need me, just reach with your mind, and call for me. I will come if I can.”
Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Sirena was beginning to shimmer. Slowly, her form wavered, and she burst into the white smoke she had arrived in. The smoke swirled around in the air for a moment, before being sucked back into the heart of his ring, as if into a vacuum. Everything went back to the way it had been before.
For a moment, neither he nor Hermione moved.
Then she spoke. “So what now?” Draco glanced at her. “What did Harry tell you?”
“There’s a way to get him back,” he said dazedly, stunned by the realization. “I can get him back…he can come back to life…”
Hermione’s eyes brightened. “How?” she asked, excited.
Draco didn’t answer her question in the way she’d expected. Instead, he stood up, brushing grass from his clothes and hands, before helping her up. “Hermione,” he said steadfastly. “We have some books to search, and a vault to find.”