"I pray the gods have
mercy on my enemies
because
I won't."
•
ON THE FIRST DAY of December, with the rush of horrible winter winds, I came to know that Harry was in possession of the cup. Luckily, my dearest boyfriend not only carried healing supplies in his pouch, but also carried killing supplies. The conversation went very strange. I had gotten some time to myself, so I wrote:
-did you all get it?
Yes-
-we have to go to Hogwarts now. The chamber of secrets has the basilisk fangs.
Draco carried basilisk
fangs in his pouch-
-wat?
Yes! I took a few broken fangs from the chamber. Just in case. Because you said there was another Horcrux.-
-Draco you're a genius.
I'm aware-
What's the next plan now?- harry-
-Hello brother dearest. The next plan is us breaking out.
Tf you mean?-
-did you destroy the cup?
Not yet-
-well, listen to me very carefully. Something strange happened to me.
Tf yOu MEAN?-
-JFC calm down Harry! Basically, good old Voldemort thinks I'm devoted to him. I've done nothing for him to think otherwise. I've even given him the location of the supposed elder wand. Now. He's gone off to Hogwarts. I know for a fact that he'll try to get the wand. I don't know what he'll find there, but it'll definitely not be the wand because Draco has it. So tonight, you are to destroy the cup at Grimmauld Place. That will leave us with only the snake. We're just gonna have to wing it.
I don't think we should be
winging anything-
-hello Hermione. And by winging it, I'm sure you know who destroys the snake?
I thought you were joking?-
-when have I ever joked, Hermione?
All the time-
TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU-
-Calm tf down Harry.
-so, Voldemort took me to Nottingshire's Hollow, an all wizardkind town where my father grew up. In short, the Firegold Manor. It's fucking awesome. It's creepy as fuck but it's fucking cool and big and everything. Now the thing is when I went there I found this strange sizzling magic all around me, in the air, in the walls everywhere. I like to believe that Voldemort only took me there because he wanted to show me that just like he trusts me to be his ally, I can trust him too.
Do you-
-of course I do. You'll see that Voldemort is a man of his word.
-me, on the other hand, I lack morals. I lie. I dont have time for ethics.
-so, there I am,chilling in the creepy house that's supposedly mine, feeling the scary magic in the air, seemingly unnoticed by Voldemort, when I feel this weird feeling down my spine.
What did he do?-
-oh, he didn't do anything.
-i saw my family tree and everything.
-DRACO DID YOU KNOW THE FIREGOLD AND MALFOY BLOODLINE FUSED IN THE ELEVENTH CENTURY?
-we are actually very slightly related to each other Draco.
Holy motherfuck-
That's not the point tell me WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU-
-Draco give my brother some calming draught, he's losing it.
-so anyway, in the sitting room, around the family tree, I saw this huge painting of rowena ravenclaw. I was like, aight, that's cool, Firegolds were all about knowledge. Then Voldemort tells me that we used to be Ravenclaws long before the curve shifted to Slytherin. Now, that's cool too. Everything is alright. Until
UNTIL-
-UNTIL I go to the library-its fucking huge and awesome, Hermione you'll love it, we'll have to fix the binding and everything, but they are some seriously wicked books.
Skylar-
-oh, yes.
-so the magic is like, electrocuting me slowly at this point. It's eerie and scary and I'm there with Voldemort on a not so romantic date in my dead parent's home who he killed.
-and I see this ghost.
Ghost?-
-yes, Ron, ghost!
Like Hogwarts ghosts or
did you finally lose your mind?-
-hogwarts ghosts. But I might lose my mind soon after what happened.
Skylar you're killing me can you
just rip the band-aid?-
-I am a descendant of
Rowena Ravenclaw.
All right, put the band aid back on-
-YES THAT IS WHAT IM SAYING Harry! so this ghost is like her other daughter Morwenna Ravenclaw. And she tells me a bunch of things about the magic running through the walls actually belonging to me, like a destiny or birthright
-i don't know she was talking in riddles. After i specifically asked the hat to not put me in Ravenclaw because I don't want to solve riddles at the end of everyday, it got really frustrating. So I did something rash.
What did you do?-
-I siphoned the magic off the walls, Draco.
-before you all go shit crazy about it, listen to the rest of it.
Go on-
-Dont write to me in that tone Ron!
I didn't have a tone-
Skylar please continue-
-alright, Hermione. So, I come back to the Manor with voldy immediately after that and I fucking collapse. I didn't have time to do or explain anything. I fell like a toddler unable to walk. And then I get this horrible fever. Healers from St Mungo's came and everything, but nothing could fix me. The siphoned magic was basically burning my skin, grinding my bones. It was horrible. I wanted it to stop. I kept getting these horrible nightmares about monsters and dead people and my mother going all Death Eater on others and my father going all evil scientist on my mother and I'm going all junior assassin on innocent people. Until
Until?????-
-until Snape comes along. And fixes me up like I was never sick.
SNAPE! HOW CAN YOU STILL TRUST HIM-
-harry I will always trust Snape. And he was the one who put magic on the walls. It's my mother's magic. She used some really dark, sacrificial, blood and Eldritch magic to get her Strecromancy out of her system to protect them from the Light wizards and also prevent the magic from transferring into me. And I absorbed it. So, because Snape was the one who put it there, he fixed me up with this Clear Potion, and now my body is well adjusted with the double doze of strecromancy.
so you're like eternally powerful now?-
-I don't know. But I can do a lot more than what I initially could.
Like what-
-they are mostly pretty dark
Tell me-
-well, dream magic, delirium magic, chaos magic, this horrid little think where I can break the minds of my opponent (kinda did that to this snatcher trying to hurt Luna), psionic magic, also my general elemental magic has skyrocketed. I actually conjured fire in my fingertips, and constricted the airflow in Greyback's throat. Like, elements in really confined spaces. I have a lot more theories
Skykar-
-weather magic. A few days ago, I tried focusing on the sky and I actually started this torrential rain upon your lake Draco. Just there, like a large tap. I also believe I'm capable of shadow magic? I don't know. I feel like there's just too much going on in my body right now. After it's all over, I might have to get rid of it.
What's a psionic magic?-
-i am surprised you don't know Hermione. It means mind or element manipulation of a large number of subjects at once.
-i have been reading your grandfather's books on dark arts, Draco
Oh-
-dont be worried guys. Dark is a part of light. I have all this power in me and I'm going to rip Voldemort to shreds
-as for the plan
-harry, remember that piece of glass Sirius gave you?
Yes-
-look into it. You'll see a man who looks like Dumbledore. That's Aberforth. Tell him to send Dobby to the cellar of Malfoy Manor.
Why-
-harry, Lunaf and Mr Ollivander are here. Dobby can apparate in and out,he can take them away.
What about you-
-i am going to meet you all at Hogwarts. Tonight.
Excuse me?-
-listen to me very carefully now. Nothing can go wrong at this point. Voldemort is, at this very instance, going to Hogwarts in search for the wand. Harry, you just disarm Draco for the mastery of the wand.
Why-
-dumbfuck
-you will be the master of Death then! All three Hallows with you!
-voldemort won't be able to you!
Oh-
-after disarming Draco, destroy the cup. All four of you, including Sirius,will apparate to Hogsmeade at nightfall.
Nightfall? What are we playing? Snitch Snatchers?
-i have no idea what that is but sure. At dusk that's what I meant. In two hours. Before that, Dobby must come here and escape with Luna and Ollivander. Take them to Hogwarts too. When you reach there, enter the Hog's Head bar. That's the bar Aberforth runs. He will show you all to a secret passage that leads to the castle.
Me too?-
-you too, Draco. It's time for some action. All sitting and plotting is over. Now is the time. Voldemort and his snake versus all of us.
-harry, round up the Phoenix Organization in school. Draco, do the same with Salazar's Army. The moment I escape from Malfoy Manor, chaos will break. They will come for the school. It will be war
Skylar!-
-yes Hermione. It's time now.
All that we could do- all I could do pretending to be Voldemort's Ally, bearing
this filthy Mark, all you all could do, looking for the last Horcrux. It's over. It was always supposed to come down to this. We were all expecting it. The longer we wait, the stronger he feels. It's time to finish it all once and for all.
-i will meet you inside Hogwarts, at the room where the secret passage from Hog's Head leads to. It's going to be a long night. Brace yourself my dear friends.
This is it then?-
-yes. This is it.
-This is what my life had culminated down to.
-Harry, the Wizarding World sees you as the Savior. They see me as the girl gone rogue. But we both know out destinies Harry. This is it. I was meant to stop the war.
-in the foretold, a lot of people die. I must save them. I must protect you. And you must protect the Wizarding World. Think of all that he has taken from you, taken from all of us. Find courage within yourself, brother. Find anger and meet me at Hogwarts.
The paper crumbled and burnt into dust from the fire emanating from my fingertips. My magic had never been stronger. I had never been more prepared for this. All my life I had thought this to be just a story, a children's book. Now I am the character. For four years, I had been here, everyday thinking and plotting to bring down Voldemort. Now he was here. And I was to finish him.
And I set to work.
I charmed my bag to fit in some clothes, a bunch of books, ink, quill, parchment. I wondered if I should pack in door too. What if the war goes on longer than it's supposed to? Because the war wasn't supposed to be happening till May. It's December now. I shook my head, stripping out of my cotton dress and sliding into a pair or trousers and a shirt. It's winter, but it's a war. I put on the Death Eater robe upon my body, magicking for it to fit in the right places. Then I shoved my bag into my pocket, my wand held in my fingers and I walked out of the room.
It's evening. It's five in the evening. Voldemort is gone now. . . Soon he will know that Harry hunted Horcruxes. They didn't get a whiff of the break-in at Gringotts-very efficiently done-so, I might have to give him time till tonight to figure out his Horcruxes are missing.
"Where are you going?" A voice spoke from the darkness as I turned around, my cloak bellowing.
"I'm leaving," I said to Narcissa Malfoy. "You can tell your Lord that when he comes looking for me. My work here is done-"
"What work?" her tone was impassive, but ultimately she was a very good occlumens.
"I was kidnapped and brought here, do you recall?" I said softly. "I didn't come here on my own accord. But I took the dark mark by choice. Everything I've done since-killing people, hunting innocents, giving You-Know-Who Prophecies-I am not a seer Narcissa," I smiled.
She stepped towards me, no threat in her appearance. "What are you then?"
"I am," I leaned to her ears. "From the future."
She jerked back slightly, her pale blue eyes widening only slightly.
"I knew that," another voice spoke from behind me. I turned around.
"How?" I asked Bellatrix Lestrange.
"I knew my friends, I know what they could've done," she said quietly. "You're leaving now. . ."
"You can try to stop me-"
"I won't."
I opened my mouth to retort something but closed it when I found nothing. Bellatrix Lestrange. . . Not going to kill me for betraying Voldemort?
"Is Draco going to be there?" Lucius Malfoy asked feebly, emerging from the shadows.
"Yes," I said, breathing heavily from being surrounded by three of Voldemort's most trusted. I reeled my magic in my fingertips.
"Meredith's eyes used to turn golden too," Bellatrix said, walking towards me, no wand in her hand. "When she got defensive." She raised her hand and I flinched. Momentarily she stood quiet, before I collected myself and she placed her palm on my cheeks. It was calloused but warm. It gave me a feeling of serenity just for a second. "We can help you leave."
"What!" I staggered backwards, my magic sizzling in my fingertips now.
"We have done it before," Narcissa said. "We helped Meredith escape before. With Alakay. For your Protection."
"We can do it again," Lucius Malfoy said. There was something in his eyes I had never seen before. Warmth, fatherliness. I addressed them all carefully-they weren't talking to a fellow defecting Death Eater. They were talking to their friends's child who was on the other side of the battlements.
"Why?"
"You are all that's left of Meredith and Alakay now," Bellatrix said, her eyes hardening. "And I am not without conscience."
In that moment I knew, Bellatrix Lestrange had her soul taken from her many times over the course of her imprisonment. But what the dementors couldn't take was what my parents had instilled in their hearts a long long time ago-family. Family above all. No matter how twisted, how dangerous, they were family to my parents. And therefore they were family to me. My bottom lip quivered slightly as I took in the warmth they radiated, the warmth that'll shield me from the cold of the war outside.
"I am loyal to my cause," continued Bellatrix. "When you leave, you might find yourself against me. Do not hesitate-"
"Bellatrix!" I hissed, clutching her shoulders. "You don't have to do this-"
"Tell me," she said, peering into my eyes. In a flash I saw the shadow of the beautiful, glossy haired girl who had taken my mother to a room in Grimmauld Place when she stumbled out of their Floo. Her bright blue eyes dazzled for a second. "Tell me, do I die tonight?"
I pursed my lips. I was seeing a side of Bellatrix Lestrange-no, I was looking at Bellatrix Black. "Yes," I said. "Maybe. I don't know."
She stepped back. "Then I fight for what I believe in, and die fighting for it."
"Skylar," Narcissa spoke sweetly next to me. "Protect my son. That's all I ask of you. . ."
Lucius Malfoy looked beaten down, broken down from the proud man he used to be.
"Slytherins are known for their loyalty," he said. "If Draco is loyal to you, he's loyal without conscience. He will fight with you. With Harry Potter. Just like I fought with Meredith. . . You've saved him before, haven't you? Please," he came closer to me. "Save him one last time."
Something cold and wild stirred in me. The only villain here was Voldemort, taking children from their parents since god knows when, for his selfish gains.
"Voldemort created seven Horcruxes," I told quietly. "We've destroyed six of them, me, Harry and Draco. His snake is the last one. In order to destroy that-I have to go to Hogwarts. When I leave," I said quietly. "Pretend that you all tried to stop me. Pretend that you are with him. . . He will wand blood when he finds out that his precious Horcruxes are destroyed, that all he is now is a mere mortal man. He will want to kill. He will attack Hogwarts. . . But I will try, that's what I'm here for. . . That's why I was brought back in time to where I belong. . ."
Quiet spread over us in the cold, dark halls of Malfoy Manor as they seeped in the information. They each had a look of horror upon their faces. Killing wasn't an issue for Death Eaters. But ripping apart your soul-that was something horrible.
"How are you planning to leave?" Narcissa asked.
"Well," I smiled slightly as a loud crack was heard below. Dobby was here. A loud comossion broke out in the cellar as the patrolling Death Eaters attempted to find out what's going on. There was another loud crack in the minute that followed, and I knew Dobby had left with Luna and Ollivander. "I have my mother's magic in me. My escape would be feasible-for, even if you all tried, you won't be able to stop me."
"And how would you break through the barriers?" Lucius asked. I liked this about him, always measuring all the outcomes. "The protective enchantments around the house."
"I have to wing it," I said, regarding a situation I definitely shouldn't wing. "I have a little plan-"
Footsteps echoed down the corridor as people tried coming upstairs to inform the escape of Ollivander and Luna. Lucius Malfoy pushed me into the shadows-
"What's the matter, Travers?" Bellatrix snarled.
"The prisoners, Madam Lestrange," he heaved for breath. "They escaped!"
"What!" Bellatrix screeched. "How can they-"
"We believe it was a house-elf," he said. "We have to notify the Dark Lord-"
"And get ourselves killed?" Lucius spat. "E have to find them before You-Know-Who comes back!"
"What are you waiting for," Bellatrix snarled. "Leave!"
At the sound of her maniacal high-pitched shout, Travers stumbled on his feel for a few seconds before turning back and moving towards the sound of the shadows. When they were out of earshot, Lucius Malfoy turned to me. He placed an arm on my shoulder, clutching tightly and said, "Go, now."
And I did. Turning the hood of my Death Eater robe above my head, I waved the wand slightly before my face, the mask materializing around my eyes. And I turned and ran towards the entryway.
"Hey!" Greyback shouted from where he was positioned at the gate. "Where do you think you're going, pretty!"
I ignored him and ran, feeling his footsteps right behind my. I momentarily turned around and let a stunning spell shoot towards him. He dodged just in time for that, but not for the bodybinding curse I sent immediately next.
"Breach!" shouted Narcissa-got to give it to the Black's for the dramatics. "Firegold is escaping-"
I ran across the garden as a flurry of spells rushed towards me. I ducked down just in time for them to collide above my head in a flurry of sparks. I felt my veins run cold as I raised my wand to the sky-what happened next stunned me as much as it stunned the Death Eaters.
The gloomy winter clouds parted and a lightening bolt as clear as a sketch, brandished down towards the garden. It collided against the dome of the protective enchantments, opening a gaping hole in the middle. I directed my wand down towards one of the many advancing Death Eaters-a shower of blue emanated from my wand: it was Delirio, the mind breaking spell-and I twisted around. The psionism in my magic attacked the same spell towards the thirteen Death Eaters and Snatchers running towards me from all sides. They crumbled to the ground suddenly, holding their heads in their hands, shouting in agony, as they lost their sanity.
I looked back at the stunned faces of the remaining Death Eaters at the exit of the driveway, ready to strike if I try to leave. I turned and saw the three people who had made it possible for me to leave-their amazing acting skills as they showed the world they were trying to stop me, just as they had done when my mother escaped. I felt something crackle in my fingertips. My blood ran hot and fine lines of electrical magic escaped from my skin, illuminating my veins in a blinding blue. I brought my hand forward, my wand sizzling with the newfound magic, and sat the glowing blue ball of magic. I laughed. I laughed like I had already won the war, and I thrust my hand below me, making the magic push me off the ground- I shot off, like a bird in flight, straight into the air where the lightening had left a gaping hole in the enchantments. My laughter sounded foreign to me as went past the enchantments, the cold freezing winter clouds condensing against my warm skin, and just as I reached beyond the clouds, amongst the stewing thunderstorm I left behind, the enchantments cracking off beneath me, I turned in spot, mid air, and Disapparated into a flurry of darkness for the first time in my life.
•
Draco's feet touched road. He saw the achingly familiar Hogsmeade High Street: dark shop fronts, and the outline of black mountains beyond the village, and the curve in the road ahead that led off toward Hogwarts, and light spilling from the windows of the Three Broomsticks, and with a lurch of the heart he remembered, with piercing accuracy, how he had appeared to Madam Rosemerta the year before, using an Unforgivable curse on her to do Voldemort's bidding; all this came in a second, upon landing- and then, even as he relaxed his grip upon Ron's, Harry's and Hermione's arms, it happened.
The air was rent by a scream that sounded like the mermaids when they spoke above the water: It tore at every nerve in Draco's body, and he knew immediately that their appearance had caused it. Even as he looked at the other three beneath the Cloak, crouching because their foot could be seen, for they were too big, the door of the Three Broomsticks burst open and a dozen cloaked and hooded Death Eaters dashed into the street, their wands aloft.
"Accio Cloak!" roared one of the Death Eaters. Harry seized its folds, but it made no attempt to escape: The Summoning Charm had not worked on it. "Not under your wrapper, then, Potter?" yelled the Death Eater who had tried the charm, and then to his fellows, "Spread out. He's here."
Six of the Death Eaters ran toward them: Draco, Harry, Ron, and Hermione backed as quickly as possible down the nearest side street, his eyes squinting in the disk, looking for the bar Hog's Head, and the Death Eaters missed them by inches. They waited in the darkness, listening to the footsteps running up and down, beams of light flying along the street from the Death Eaters' searching wands.
"Let's just leave!" Hermione whispered. "Disapparate now!"
"Great idea," said Ron, but before Draco could reply, or smack them down their heads, a Death Eater shouted, "We know you're here, Potter, and there's no getting away! We'll find you!"
Draco hurriedly waved his wand, deleting all their footprints from the snow, using nonverbal incantations.
"They were ready for us," whispered Harry. "They set up that spell to tell them we'd come. I reckon they've done something to keep us here, trap us-"
"What about dementors?" called another Death Eater. "Let 'em have free rein, they'd find him quick enough!"
"The Dark Lord wants Potter dead by no hand but his -"
"-an' dementors won't kill him! The Dark Lord wants Potter's life, not his soul. He'll be easier to kill if he's been Kissed first!"
There were noises of agreement. Dread filled Draco: To repel Dementors, at least one of them would have to cast their Patronuses. That's literally sell them off.
"We're going to have to try to Disapparate, Harry!" Hermione whispered.
Even as she said it, Draco felt the unnatural cold begin to steal over the street. Light was sucked from the environment right up to the stars, which vanished. In the pitch-blackness, he felt Hermione take hold of his arm and together, they turned on the spot.
The air through which they needed to move seemed to have become solid: They could not Disapparate; the Death Eaters had cast their charms well. The cold was biting deeper and deeper into Draco's flesh. He, Ron, Harry and Hermione retreated down the side street, groping their way along the wall, trying not to make a sound, all the while diminushing their footprints from the snow. Then, around the corner, gliding noiselessly, came dementors, ten or more of them, visible because they were of a denser darkness than their surroundings, with their black cloaks and their scabbed and rotting hands. Could they sense fear in the vicinity? Draco was sure of it: They seemed to be coming more quickly now, taking those dragging, rattling breaths he detested, tasting despair on the air, closing in and-
"Expecto Patronum!"
A wispy, white dragon, blindingly bright appeared from the other corner of their hiding spot; as it escaped from the wand, it grew bigger and bigger until it was as big as the High Street itself. It unhinged it's vast, mighty jaw and bellowed wispy blue patronian fire at the dementors: The dementors scattered and there was a triumphant yell from somewhere out of sight.
"It's him, down there, down there -"
"His patronus is a stag! What we saw was a fucking Dragon, Bárbaro!"
The dementors had retreated, the stars were popping out again and the footsteps of the Death Eaters halted quickly. Draco peered his neck and watched as another hooded figure, adored with the Death Eater mask approached them, the air rippling around her. It took him all his might to not jump out from under the cloak immediately.
"That was foolish," her sweet voice drawled. "Why did you lot call the Dementors?"
"F-Firegold!" A Death Eater stammered. She made a small humming in her throat. "Why are you here?"
"Same reason as you all are," she said. "You-Know-Who sent me here to patrol. I'm assuming one of you daft idiots thought it was Harry Potter? Hardly a surprise-"
"But," one of the Death Eaters frowned. "We've not been notified if your arrival!"
"Did you presumed the Dark Lord would notify you imbeciles about every move he makes?" she said. Draco could hear the pride and threat in her sweet voice. Something pooled inside him. Harry gripped his arm hard, but Draco had a fleeting feeling that he did so to stop himself from jumping out of the cloak.
The Death Eaters sputtered. Draco saw a cackle of purple smoke in her fingertips. "I hope none of you summoned You-Know-Who," she said, lifting her left arm to inspect her fingernails. The sleeve of her robe tipped down just enough to show here burning black Dark Mark. "It'd be a pity to lose your life over simple foolishness."
"You set of the alarm?" asked the Death Eater called Bárbaro.
"Not really," she drawled, sounding almost like Luna Lovegood. "I think it was a cat. . . I swear I saw one."
A door opened on the left-hand side of the narrow street, and a rough voice said, "Potter, in here, quick!"
They obeyed without hesitation: The four of them hurtled through the open doorway. "Upstairs, keep the Cloak on, keep quiet!" muttered a tall figure, passing them on his way into the street and slamming the door behind him. Draco had a fain idea where they were, but now he saw, by the stuttering light of a single candle, the grubby, sawdust-strewn bar of the Hog's Head Inn. They ran behind the counter and through a second doorway, which led to a rickety wooden staircase that they climbed as fast as they could. The stairs opened onto a sitting room with a threadbare carpet and a small fireplace, above which hung a single large oil painting of a blonde girl who gazed out at the room with a kind of vacant sweetness. Shouts reached them from the street below. Still wearing the Invisibility Cloak, they crept toward the grimy window and looked down. Their savior, whom Harry now recognized as the Hog's Head's barman, was the only person not wearing a hood.
"So what?" he was bellowing into one of the hooded faces. "So what?"
"That's quite true," Skylar said, addressing the other Death Eaters. "It's unnatural to just bring in Dementors for no reason, just because you thought Harry Potter was here."
Draco could see they didn't really trust her. He could see their hesitation in believing her, for she was after all Harry's cousin sister. But, the was she spoke, the way she wore her mask and hood, she was practically one of them, her red lips muttering out words like a lullaby.
"If I want to put my cat out, I will, and be damned to your curfew!" the barman, Aberforth, shouted.
"You set off the Caterwauling Charm?"
"What if I did? Going to cart me off to Azkaban? Kill me for sticking my nose out my own front door? Do it, then, if you want to! But I hope for your sakes you haven't pressed your little Dark Marks and summoned him. He's not going to like being called here for me and my old cat, is he, now?"
"Don't you worry about us," said one of the Death Eaters, "worry about yourself, breaking curfew!"
"And where will you lot traffick potions and poisons when my pub's closed down? What'll happen to your little sidelines then?"
"Are you threatening -?"
"I keep my mouth shut, it's why you come here, isn't it?"
"It's hardly productive," Skylar said in a bored tone. "Potter isn't here. And you lot are arguing with a barman for setting his cat out. I suggest, before you lot make a bigger fool of yourselves, go back to Three Broomsticks and wait for the real Harry Potter to come. Go now," she waved her hand dismissively as if talking to them was beneath her.
"What about you, Firegold?" the second Death Eater sneered. "If you're here to patrol, you should come with us."
Draco saw her lips curl into a scowl as she said, "You're forgetting who you're speaking to, Famel. I am the Dark Lord's first lieutenant. I don't need to be there couped up with the lot of you waiting for someone to come. I'm going in for a drink," she said turning to Aberforth. "I'm sure he can open the shop after hours for the Dark Lord's right hand?"
Draco hoped Aberforth wouldn't hesitate, and he was glad when he didn't. The Death Eaters strode back toward the High Street. Hermione moaned with relief, wove out from under the Cloak, and sat down on a wobble-legged chair. Harry drew the curtains tight shut, then pulled the Cloak off himself, Draco and Ron. They could hear the barman down below, rebolting the door of the bar, then climbing the stairs.
The barman entered the room. Followed by Skylar, in her Death Eater gloriousness, mask and hood and all.
"You bloody fools," Aberforth said gruffly, looking from one to the other of them. "What were you thinking, coming here?"
"Thank you," said Harry. "We can't thank you enough. You saved our lives."
"And you," Aberforth turned towards Draco, "How are you alive-"
But Draco's eyes were fixed in Skylar, as she waved her wand around her face, dissolving the mask into thin air, her eyes a dark brown, her cheeks flushed red from the cold, as she ran her fingers through her dark auburn hair, letting the hood fall behind her head. Draco leaped from where he sat the same time as Skylar did, pushing Aberforth out of the way, meeting Draco in the middle, their lips connecting instantly, her arms around his neck, sending bolts of electricity up and down his spine. He held her so tight that he was afraid he was crushing her. He cup her face, her hands entangled in his hair, his other hands snaked around her hips holding her in place.
Five months. He had waited for five months with hesitation, madness and uncertainty. Five months of not knowing is she was alright, what was happening to her, how could she survive in a place he used to call home. He kissed her without warning, without thinking, simply deciding that if there's anything in this world that might be the last thing he did, it'd be kissing Skylar. Kissing her after so long, after so much longing, made a fire spark within his bones, like his soul had turned to water and every part of him that came from a dead constellation, was alive again. He couldn't get enough. He couldn't afford to lose her again.
They parted only moments later by the clearing of someone's throat. The stood there, staring at each other, his lips stained with her red lipstick, foreheads pressed to each other. She looked ethereal, donned in dark robes, eyes a bright purple-he wondered what that meant-her dark red hair falling around her face like a rippling waterfall. He couldn't get enough of her.
"It's like she didn't even miss me," Harry Potter said from behind them. Draco assumed it was he who cleared his throat. Skylar turned as red as her hair, pushing her hair away from her face, dropping her hands from around his hair to clutch around his arm.
"I did miss you," she said. And then she burst into tears. And it was horrible. Everyone was stunned.
"What happened!" Ron asked, bounding towards them. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," she said, watching them all with her big almond shaped eyes, as if drowning their every inch inside her mind. He could understand, because he did the same with her, drinking her in like this was the last thing to do. "I just missed you all."
Draco wrapped his arms around her shoulder as she sniffled to a stop, wiping her eyes. Harry approached, hugging her. He lingered for a moment, and Draco let her go. She was safe now.
"It's your eye I've been seeing in the mirror," Harry said after pulling away from Skylar, planting a kiss on her forehead.
There was silence in the room. Harry and the barman looked at each other.
"You sent Dobby."
The barman nodded. He turned away, lighting lamps with prods of his wand, not looking at any of them. "You're Aberforth," said Harry to the man's back. He neither confirmed nor denied it, but bent to light the fire.
"How did you get this?" Harry asked, walking across to Sirius's mirror, the twin of the one he had broken nearly two years before.
"Bought it from Dung 'bout a year ago," said Aberforth. "Sirius told him to bring it to me-"
There was a loud crack in the room. Draco noticed how Skylar jumped out, pulling her wand at the direction, eyes blazing golden.
"Didn't miss much, did I?" asked Sirius Black, eyeing the room before settling on Skylar's figure leaning between Harry and Draco. She beamed.
"That's how you do it!" she cheered. "Not apparating in the middle of Hogsmeade under watchful eyes of everyone! Here. Inside the Hog's Head! Sirius-"
Sirius Black practically pushed Harry and Draco out of the way, hugging Skylar so tight she was almost lifted off her feet. Draco blinked, having stumbled across the room.
"If we're done with pleasantries," Aberforth grumbled. "Who are you?"
"Me?" Skylar squeaked, grinning ear to ear. "I'm Skylar Firegold!"
"You're a Death Eater."
She looked stumped for a second before Draco said, "She was kidnapped, Mr Dumbledore. From Bill and Fleur's wedding-"
"You're the Malfoy boy, aren't you?" Aberforth gruffed. "You're a Death Eater too."
"He was a Death Eater," Sirius said hotly. "He defected. He's a member of the Order now. Even as a Death Eater, he served the Order, like a Spy."
Aberforth looked back and forth between Draco and Skylar, both their eyes hardened. Then he said, "Smart work out there. You were the dragon?"
"Yes," Skylar said stiffly. "I brought them here. Sorry for the inconvenience."
"Right then," he said. "We can't get you away now. The caterwauling charm-"
"We're not going anywhere," Harry said. "We have to go to Hogwarts."
"Don't be stupid, boy," said Aberforth.
"We've got to," said Harry.
"What you've got to do," said Aberforth, leaning forward, "is to get as far from here as you can."
"You don't understand. There isn't much time. We've got to get into the castle. Dumbledore-I mean, your brother- wanted us -"
The firelight made the grimy lenses of Aberforth's glasses momentarily opaque, a bright flat white.
"My brother Albus wanted a lot of things," said Aberforth, "and people had a habit of getting hurt while he was carrying out his grand plans. You get away from this school, Potter, and out of the country if you can. Forget my brother and his clever schemes. He's gone where none of this can hurt him, and you don't owe him anything."
"You don't understand," said Harry again.
"Oh, don't I?" said Aberforth quietly. "You don't think I understood my own brother? Think you knew Albus better than I did?"
"He didn't mean that," Skylar. "It's . . .he left us a job."
"Did he now?" said Aberforth. "Nice job, I hope? Pleasant? Easy? Sort of thing you'd expect an unqualified wizard kid to be able to do without overstretching themselves?" Ron gave a rather grim laugh. Hermione was looking strained.
"No, it wasn't easy," said Skylar. "But we've done most of it. We've got to-"
"'Got to'? Why 'got to'? He's dead, isn't he?" said Aberforth roughly. "Let it go, girl, before you follow him! Save yourself!"
"I know you think the Order of the Phoenix is over," Skylar said. Draco could see her fingertips turning smokey. "That You-Know-Who has won. But I didn't serve that noseless bastard for five months, suffering, hiding, keeping secrets from the darkest wizard in the history, just so we can run away and hide, Mr Dumbledore! We have a job to do!" she seethed. "And we are going to do it, whether you help or not. We're not going to give it to someone else and we're not going to hide."
"Did Dumbledore explain it all to you?" Aberforth asked.
"He didn't have to," Skylar said, putting her chin up. "I already knew everything."
"I knew my brother, Firegold. He learned secrecy at our mother's knee. Secrets and lies, that's how we grew up, and Albus . . . he was a natural." The old man's eyes traveled to the painting of the girl over the mantelpiece. It was, now Draco looked around properly, the only picture in the room. There was no photograph of Albus Dumbledore, nor of anyone else.
"Mr. Dumbledore?" said Hermione rather timidly. "Is that your sister? Ariana?"
"Yes," said Aberforth tersely. "Been reading Rita Skeeter, have you, missy?"
Even by the rosy light of the fire it was clear that Hermione had turned red.
"Elphias Doge mentioned her to us," said Harry, trying to spare Hermione. "That old berk," muttered Aberforth, taking another swig of mead. "Thought the sun shone out of my brother's every orifice, he did. Well, so did plenty of people, you three included, by the looks of it."
Skylar stifled a laughter. A eyes turned on her. She cleared her throat.
"Professor Dumbledore cared about Harry, very much," said Hermione in a low voice.
"Did he now?" said Aberforth. "Funny thing, how many of the people my brother cared about very much ended up in a worse state than if he'd left 'em well alone."
"What do you mean?" asked Hermione breathlessly.
"He's talking about Ariana," said Skylar, looking adamantly ahead. "I'll show you how much I know. When your sister was six years old, she was attacked, set upon, by three Muggle boys. They'd seen her doing magic, spying through the back garden hedge: she was a kid, she couldn't control it, no witch or wizard can at that age. What they saw scared them, I expect. They forced their way through the hedge, and when she couldn't show them the trick, they got a bit carried away trying to stop the little freak doing it. Isn't this what happened?"
Hermione's eyes were huge in the firelight, just like Draco's; Ron looked slightly sick. Aberforth stood up, tall as Albus, and suddenly terrible in his anger and the intensity of his pain.
"It destroyed her, what they did: She was never right again. She wouldn't use magic, but she couldn't get rid of it; it turned inward and drove her mad, it exploded out of her when she couldn't control it, and at times she was strange and dangerous. But mostly she was sweet and scared and harmless. And your father went after the bastards that did it," said Skylar, "and attacked them. And they locked him up in Azkaban for it. He never said why he'd done it, because if the Ministry had known what Ariana had become, she'd have been locked up in St. Mungo's for good. They'd have seen her as a serious threat to the International Statute of Secrecy, unbalanced like she was, with magic exploding out of her at moments when she couldn't keep it in any longer."
"We had to keep her safe and quiet. We moved house, put it about she was ill, and my mother looked after her, and tried to keep her calm and happy," Aberforth picked up the story. "I was her favorite,"he said, and as he said it, a grubby schoolboy seemed to look out through Aberforth's wrinkles and tangled beard. "Not Albus, he was always up in his bedroom when he was home, reading his books and counting his prizes, keeping up with his correspondence with 'the most notable magical names of the day,'" Aberforth sneered. "He didn't want to be bothered with her. She liked me best. I could get her to eat when she wouldn't do it for my mother, I could get her to calm down when she was in one of her rages, and when she was quiet, she used to help me feed the goats. Then, when she was fourteen . . . See, I wasn't there," said Aberforth. "If I'd been there, I could have calmed her down. She had one of her rages, and my mother wasn't as young as she was, and . . . it was an accident. Ariana couldn't control it. But my mother was killed."
"So that put paid to Albus's trip round the world with Doge. The pair of them came home for your mother's funeral and then Doge went off on his own, and Albus settled down as head of the family."
Aberforth spat into the fire. Draco blinked. It was like a contest now.
"Then he came, Grindelwald. And at last, your brother had an equal to talk to, someone just as bright and talented as he was. And looking after Ariana took a backseat then, while they were hatching all their plans for a new Wizarding order, and looking for Hallows. Grand plans for the benefit of all Wizardkind, and if one young girl got neglected, what did that matter, when Albus was working for the greater good?" Draco thought Skylar was reciting, acting out a verse at this point.
"But after a few weeks of it, I'd had enough, I had. It was nearly time for me to go back to Hogwarts, so I told 'em, both of 'em, face-to-face, like I am to you, now," and Aberforth looked down at Skylar, and it took little imagination to see her as a teenager, wiry and angry, confronting her elder brother. "I told him, you'd better give it up now. You can't move her, she's in no fit state, you can't take her with you, wherever it is you're planning to go, when you're making your clever speeches, trying to whip yourselves up a following. He didn't like that," said Aberforth, and his eyes were briefly occluded by the firelight on the lenses of his glasses: They shone white and blind again.
"Grindelwald didn't like that at all. He got angry. He told you what a stupid little boy you were, trying to stand in the way of him and youe brilliant brother," Skylar recited. Draco wondered how she knew all that so precisely.
"Didn't I understand, my poor sister wouldn't have to be hidden once they'd changed the world, and led the wizards out of hiding, and taught the Muggles their place?"
"And there was an argument. . . and you pulled out your wand, and he pulled out his, and you had the Cruciatus Curse used on you by your brother's best friend- and Albus was trying to stop him, and then-"
"-all three of us were dueling, and the flashing lights and the bangs set her off, she couldn't stand it-" The color was draining from Aberforth's face as though he had suffered a mortal wound. "-and I think she wanted to help, but she didn't really know what she was doing, and I don't know which of us did it, it could have been any of us - and she was dead."
His voice broke on the last word and he dropped down into the nearest chair. Hermione's face was wet with tears, and Ron was almost as pale as Aberforth. Draco felt nothing but revulsion: He wished he had not heard it, wished he could wash his mind clean of it. Skylar looked like she came out if a trance after the whole incident was narrated.
"Your brother was never free, Aberforth," Skylar said quietly. "He always regretted that day. He keeps hoping it was him who had died that night, not Ariana. After what I just,you must believe I know a little too much about everyone," she continued, her voice soft but challenging. "I know what you must be feeling-"
Aberforth seemed lost in contemplation of his own knotted and veined hands. After a long pause he said, "How can you be sure, Potter, that my brother wasn't more interested in the greater good than in you? How can you be sure you aren't dispensable, just like my little sister?"
"Even if he is dispensable to Dumbledore," Skylar said firmly. "He isn't dispensable to me. Like you said, Dumbledore is gone. But this mission isn't to appease Dumbledore or something. It is to stop You-Know-Who."
Draco waited for Aberforth to jeer or to argue, but he did not. He merely scowled.
"We need to get into Hogwarts," said Harry again. "If you can't help us, we'll wait till daybreak, leave you in peace, and try to find a way in ourselves. If you can help us- well, now would be a great time to mention it."
Aberforth remained fixed in his chair, gazing at Harry and Skylar with the eyes that were so extraordinarily like his brother's. At last he cleared his throat, got to his feet, walked around the little table, and approached the portrait of Ariana. "You know what to do," he said.
She smiled, turned, and walked away, not as people in portraits usually did, out of the sides of their frames, but along what seemed to be a long tunnel painted behind her. They watched her slight figure retreating until finally she was swallowed by the darkness.
"Er- what - ?" began Ron.
"There's only one way in now," said Aberforth.
"You must know they've got all the old secret passageways covered at both ends, dementors all around the boundary walls, regular patrols inside the school from what I know. The place has never been so heavily guarded," Skylar informed them.
"How you expect to do anything once you get inside it, with Snape in charge and the Carrows as his deputies . . . well, that's your lookout, isn't it? You think you're prepared to die."
"But what. . . ?" said Hermione, frowning at Ariana's picture. A tiny white dot had reappeared at the end of the painted tunnel, and now Ariana was walking back toward them, growing bigger and bigger as she came. But there was somebody else with her now, someone taller than she was, who was limping along, looking excited.
His hair was longer than Draco had ever seen it: He appeared to have suffered several gashes to his face and his clothes were ripped and torn. Larger and larger the two figures grew, until only their heads and shoulders filled the portrait. Then the whole thing swung forward on the wall like a little door, and the entrance to a real tunnel was revealed.
And out of it, his hair overgrown, his face cut, his robes ripped, clambered the real Neville Longbottom, who gave a roar of delight, leapt down from the mantelpiece, and yelled, "I knew you'd come! I knew it, Harry, Skylar!"
•
A/n
I got a little carried away with this chapter. It's 8317 words, the longest I've ever written.