Unforeseen Trials (Completed)

They walked shoulder-to-shoulder hunched over through the narrow passage, guided by the light of his wand.

"Stupid cobwebs." He heard Daphne grumble from behind him. "Why aren't we using the hallways like normal students?"

From in front of her he rolled his eyes. The first week of their fifth year had been filled with nervous glances and hushed whispers, the rumors of their involvement in what the 'Prophet' had dubbed the "Inferno in the Valley" had shook not only their classmates, but their professors as well, if Deputy Headmistress Sprout was any indicator.

' At least it has made prefect duties easier. ' He thought to himself.

There had been a time when he had yearned to be a Prefect.

" To be a Prefect is to be recognized as the best of the best!"

His bushy-haired friend's enthusiasm had been contagious, he couldn't help but wonder what Hermione would have thought of the mundane meetings and late nights.

' I bet she would have embraced them.' He thought with a smile.

He was ignored because of his insignificance back then.

These days nobody wanted to upset the great Harry Potter or his violent girlfriend for a much different reason.

The crowds generally parted like the Red Sea when they passed by, leaving small crowds of nervous students in their wake as they made their way through the second floor corridor with purpose.

" She probably killed her family for the gold."

The usually level-headed Michael Corner had leveled the accusation, telling him all he needed to know about their current standing in Britain.

" Fuck them all."

Daphne's flippant response had been expected, the pain she felt at such accusations have long since disappeared.

' Or it's burrowed deep within her.'

Even he was having trouble deciphering Daphne's mood these days.

The rationale side of his brain told Harry that his classmates had every right to be afraid with the Patil's and Terry still missing and the great Albus Dumbledore presumed dead.

" This is only a temporary situation." Headmistress Vector began from the Deputy Headmistresses seat, glancing at the now-vacant spot that had been occupied by Albus Dumbledore for over forty years. "When Headmaster Dumbledore returns, he will resume his place as Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The sparkle of optimism had drawn a smattering of nervous applause from the more idiotic of his classmates across the Great Hall.

Whether their idiocy was driven by fear or foolishness he did not know.

"You know why." He stated matter-of-factly as they exited the cramped passage and into the hallway leading to the second floor girl's lavatory.

She elbowed him roughly in the ribs, treating him to a rare smile, mischief dancing in her green eyes.

"All hail Dark Lord Potter!" She cackled in glee, causing the handful of students meandering about to scatter like cockroaches.

"And his fearsome Dark Mistress!" He added playfully.

His comment earned him another elbow to the ribs as Daphne raised her chin in superiority.

"A Greengrass is never a mistress!" She retorted in a perfect impression of Narcissa Malfoy, causing them both to breakout in genuine laughter.

With hardly a pause they made their way through the first group of illusions protecting Salazar Slytherin's chamber.

Behind him he felt Daphne begin to shiver as they made their way through the dank underbelly of the ancient school, unprepared for the psychological wards that lay ahead.

"Occlumency, Daph." He reminded her gently, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.

He felt her nod from behind him.

The occlumency couldn't protect her from the pain the cruel wards induced, and Daphne let out a pained cry as she clutched desperately at her abdomen.

"HARRY!" She yelled out, struggling to regain her composure.

It was taking all his self-restraint in that moment not to add her to the wards protecting the chamber.

' It would only take a few seconds.'

A drop of blood and she could move freely.

' Daphne wouldn't want that.' He reminded himself.

And she wouldn't. The blonde relished the challenge.

' Best not to anger her.'

"It's all in your head, Daph." He reminded her affectionately.

"Right." She whispered softly, joining him in the wide atrium a few laborious seconds later.

He smiled inwardly as Daphne cast the correct diagnostic charm, eyeing her reaction eagerly.

"It's like nothing I've ever seen before." She replied, biting the bottom corner of her cherry red lips in thought.

He eyed her cautiously, debating how big of a hint she needed.

' Plant the seed.'

"Do you remember when we were discussing Teemu Kapponen's odd choice of protective wards on the Finnish Ministry?"

She nodded her head in thought.

"Concealment over misdirection."

' She's almost there.'

Do you remember his original idea?

She appeared lost in thought for a nearly a minute before recognition dawned on her pretty features.

Her face lit up, highlighting her charming dimples and pearly whites, before turning to him in excitement.

"Camouflage wards? Voldemort used camouflage wards ?" She cackled, causing him to break out laughing.

"He did."

A familiar contemplative look came over her a half-second later.

"It's the exact opposite of what I would have expected." She said, dispatching of the wards with a few quick flicks.

"That's why it's so brilliant."

He gestured for Daphne to lead the way.

"If I hadn't given you a hint, you would have been there for hours."

She lost herself in thought for a moment, tapping her foot on the cold marble floor debating which of the three tunnels to take, before shrugging.

"Screw it," she said, "let's go straight."

Torches lit their path as they moved through the comfortable tunnel in silence for several minutes.

"Where do you suppose we are?" Daphne asked.

"I'm not sure."

He wasn't even sure they were in the Chamber of Secrets anymore, if he were being honest.

Tom Riddle had created more than one seemingly illogical passage on Hogwarts grounds; the tree outside the greenhouses somehow leading to the great hall springing to mind.

' Illusion and complex arithmancy?'

Slowly the path narrowed significantly and without notice, forcing them to stand shoulder to shoulder as they moved.

"It's a good thing you went on that diet over the summer, Harry." Daphne joked from behind him. "I'm not sure you could've fit had we done this in May."

' At least she's in a good mood.'

They went on like that for several meters before being deposited into a cramped circular room with no walls and an uneven brick surface.

"What do we do now?" Daphne pondered from behind him.

"I don't know." He answered, shuffling his way around the room.

He led the way, using the light of his wand to illuminate the circular room as he examined every surface for some way out of the frustrating room.

"I think we hit a dead end." He said bluntly, his disappointment evident.

' We wasted an entire evening.'

Behind him he felt Daphne fall into him, nearly knocking him over in her clumsiness.

The brick she tripped over sunk into the floor, and water began cascading into the room from unseen crevices.

Instantly he found himself flailing about aimlessly in a panic - memories of Dudley trying to sit on his shoulders at the local pool, pushing him beneath the chlorine-filled water, filling his lungs as he gasped for air, his lungs burning desperately as he slipped into oblivion.

The memory caused a bizarre sense of deja vu to overcome him as he began to flail about and lose control.

' Calm yourself, Potter.' He thought, doing his best to clear his mind.

' Legs dangling over a cliff, the sun rising over the Strait of Dover.'

Memories from his time at Professor Flitwick's after his first year overcame him, the months he spent escaping the Dursleys, honing his love of magic calmed him instantly.

Taping his head, he cast a bubble-head charm around himself, Daphne having already mimicked his actions from across from him, giving him a slightly amused look.

Her amusement turned into a questioning stare a second later, as though asking him what they should do next.

' How the hell would I know?' She knew he hadn't been this far.

They swam with the water for several seconds before a new, partially flooded pipe appeared.

Daphne swam ahead, depositing herself into the pipe and cancelling her bubble-head charm.

"What now?" He heard her say as he joined her on the slick pipe.

The water was lower here, making it possible to stand comfortably, even if sloshing about in the shin-high water was burdensome.

"I don't know." He shrugged. "Let's try and find someplace dry?"

She stared at him in thought for several seconds before Daphne gave him another shrug and a grin, highlighting her pretty dimples once more.

"Shall we?" She said suggestively, hopping several meters in front of himself.

"Be careful!" He shouted half-heartedly as he admired her from several meters back.

"I am!" She responded.

They lit their wands, highlighting the slime-covered pipes.

' Scourgify.' He thought, the grime disappearing instantly.

Seeing what he was doing, Daphne joined him in his efforts.

They walked aimlessly for several minutes, the silence of the pipes having an unnerving effect on his psyche.

"Where the fuck are we going, Harry?" Daphne inquired, the first hint of frustration climbing into her voice.

"How would I know?" He shot back in annoyance.

Taking a glance around the wide pipe he noticed a pair of torches just ahead of him.

' Foooooddd'

A voice echoed in his head, causing him to stop briefly.

"What is it Harry?" Daphne said from behind him.

' What the hell was that?'

"Nothing to worry about." He replied, shaking off the phantom voice and lighting the torches, handing her one.

The air cackled with the sparks, as a half-dozen flaming spears came barreling down on them from above, intent on ripping them apart.

' Shit!'

The trajectory of the spears made them impossible to dodge, leaving them with only one option.

"RUN!" Daphne shouted, shoving passed him, abandoning him to certain death.

Harry followed her lead, sloshing through the water for several meters with the deadly spears at their tail before Daphne dove into an enclave, pulling him with her.

"Riddle was a real asshole." Daphne stated bluntly as they tried to catch their breath.

' Understatement of the millennia.'

"At least there's a door." He replied, motioning to the knob in front of them.

"I wonder where it leads." She said with renewed interest as he cast a few diagnostic charms.

Smiling as he cleared the knob, he grabbed it and twisted it open.

"I guess we'll find out."

He sighed deeply as they were greeted with a thick plume of hot steam and a towering pipe structure clinging to the old stone walls of the castle.

' Although I didn't expect this.'

"There's platforms." Daphne pointed out cautiously, directing his gaze towards three separate platforms whizzing about in all directions.

' What the hell is this?'

They had been playing Voldemort's game for far too long, they were being directed into another trap.

' Not again.'

"No." He said, shaking his head and flicking his wand, hovering himself several feet off the ground.

"We can't continue to play his games."

She smiled, following his lead once more.

"After you."

Slowly they drifted upwards, looking for anything that may lead them out of the labyrinth they found themselves in.

Around them the floating platforms continued to dart about. Each disappearing into different portions of the wall.

"The walls are under an illusion." He said, an appreciative smile forming on his lips.

' Far more creative than I would have thought.'

Daphne nodded sharply. Canceling her charm and falling harmlessly onto one of the larger pipes.

He joined her as they both had their wands-waving, dispelling the various illusions.

Slowly the marble and the grime disappeared, leaving them in a spacious, empty cavern littered with bones.

' Where the hell are we?'

Daphne shivered involuntarily.

" Hunt. Stalk. Kill." The same phantom voice from before echoed out around him once more.

" Well good. Even in the wizarding world hearing phantom voices isn't a good thing, Harry."

Hermione had joked during first year when he had told her he could talk to snakes.

' Is that what I'm hearing? A snake?' That brought up a whole new set of questions.

' How did it get in here? How does it feed?'

The Forbidden Forest was the only answer that came to mind.

' Is that where we're heading?'

"There's a ladder." He heard in the far reaches of his subconscious.

"Hello? Harry?" Daphne said waving her hands in front of his face, drawing him out of his thoughts.

"I said there's a ladder!"

There was. At the far west corner of the room stood a single ladder that seemed to disappear into the ceiling.

Walking over, he grabbed hold of the wobbly wooden ladder, taking his time as he climbed to the top, on the lookout for any more of Riddle's traps.

Coming to a solid wall he let his fingers drift across the hard stone.

As he did so, a simple wooden door knob appeared.

"May as well." Daphne whispered in his ear.

Steadying himself Harry turned the knob, opening the door before climbing through.

' Where the hell are we?'

The dimly-lit stone corridor looked similar to every other corridor in the school, but carried a sense of unfamiliarity as well.

Glancing to his right he saw the portrait of the Fat Lady, snoring softly in her frame.

' Gryffindor's common room? Is that where the snake was coming from?'

That didn't make sense, even the Gryffindor's would notice a giant snake moving about near their common room.

' Why are we assuming it's a large snake?' It could be small, sticking to the walls.

"Interesting." Daphne added softly from next to him.

' Very interesting.'

He yawned loudly, causing the third year closest to him to scooch further away in fright.

The sight nearly made him snort in amusement at the younger kid's antics - as though he was itching to fight someone in the Hogwarts great hall on a random Tuesday morning.

He hadn't gotten back to the Ravenclaw common room till nearly ten thirty, leaving him no time to sleep before his midnight till two patrol.

The third year wasn't the only one eyeing him suspiciously, half the table appeared to be glancing nervously his way.

Terry would have laughed at the predicament he found himself in.

" You're young, rich, and exceptionally dangerous. How did you expect them to act around you?"

Terry's words from after his disqualification in the interschool battle from the prior year still rang true.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the kid, instead turning his attention to the morning's 'Prophet.'

' Hunt for Missing Muggleborn Continues!'

Penelope Clearwater, for some reason or another, had been killed by Voldemort if Tonks and the Order of the Phoenix were to be trusted.

He had a hard time believing any intelligence provided by an organization that so readily stole his land to accomplish their goals, but at the moment the group of misfits remained his only insight into the war, so he did nothing to displace them.

The inaction at Bill Weasley's audaciousness was tearing him apart.

He felt bad for the former Ravenclaw Prefect that had been so friendly to him those first few years in the castle.

' She was my first crush.' He realized to his own amusement how her simple acts of kindness manifested itself into something more. 'At least on my end.'

Was she killed because she had gotten in over her head? As Rita Skeeter had been insinuating for the last several days. Or was Penelope Clearwater another faceless victim in Voldemort's endless war?

Truthfully he believed it was the later, and any insinuations otherwise were disrespectful to the kind girl's memory.

' Hoot!'

Hedwig's melodic greeting tore him from his thoughts as she helped herself to a link of sausage while he untied the proffered letter from her front-right leg.

Absentmindedly he stroked his beautiful owl's feathers as he read the now familiar, untidy scrawl of Fred Weasley.

' 20:00. 7 th floor (across from the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy.)'

' Random location.' He thought to himself, thinking of the empty corridor near Ravenclaw Tower where Quirrell had retrieved Voldemort's horcrux.

' Where DID he come from?' It was a question he hadn't given any thought to in the years since that night.

An oversight on his part.

Quirrell had appeared out of thin air holding his wand and the lost Diadem of Ravenclaw.

' The twins were there…' He thought to himself. 'Maybe they saw something I didn't?'

He continued to stroke Hedwig - who was now nuzzling against his shoulder affectionately - for several seconds as he tried to remember that day back in first year.

Giving up with a sigh he finished his breakfast and headed back towards Ravenclaw Tower.

' I'll find out tonight.'

Answering the knockers riddle, Harry ascended the spiral stairs to the circular main common area with stunning views of the grounds before hanging a left to the private quarters reserved for prefects.

Walking through the illusion covering his room, Harry made his way to his trunk, pricking his finger, allowing a drop of blood to dampen the hard leather protecting intruders from his possessions.

The trunk unlatched itself, revealing several locked compartments.

Directing his attention to the smallest compartment, he positioned the symbols in the proper order, gaining access to a glimmering pile of galleons that lay inside.

If he was going to meet with the Weasley Twins, he would undoubtedly need the gold.

She stood silently in the doorway separating the Prefect dorms from the rest of the crowded Slytherin common room, her eyes gliding to and fro, she plotted her next move.

The room seemed to quiet slightly at her presence, the fear palpable in the air.

People could ignore the Prophet, but when your sadistic parents told you Daphne Greengrass was dangerous, you took note.

" Bellatrix Lestrange has warned the other Death Eaters not to touch you."

Tonks thought she had been crazy for smiling.

' I'm untouchable.' Nobody would dare defy the fearsome Bellatrix Lestrange, though she could handle herself need-be.

Daphne smiled inwardly at the reaction of her peers, outwardly giving no reaction as her green eyes landed on Julia Forsyth.

" This loveseat is reserved for people who matter."

She and Lily had no choice but to capitulate to the older girl.

They had been so young then.

' Who picks on first years?'

A small smile graced her face as an idea sprung into her mind.

Chest out with her chin held high, Daphne strutted through the middle of the room, groups of people separating for her as she approached her target.

Sensing her presence, the pretty brunette abandoned her conversation, facing her directly.

Idly she noticed the older girl move her wand into position under the table, just in case.

She gave the seventh year a brilliant smile. "You're in my seat." She said, her voice filled with false sincerity, making sure to recycle the words spoken to her and Lily four years prior.

If Forsyth recognized her own words being used on her, she gave no reaction.

Calmly the taller girl stood up, forced amusement dancing in her hazel eyes.

' She's terrified.'

Of course she was.

"You must be mistaken, Lady Greengrass."

She couldn't talk down to her, not anymore. Not with the power at her disposal.

Her eyes flashed in amusement.

" Miss Forsyth." She started, making sure to put emphasis on the 'Miss.' Forsyth was not, nor would she ever be a lady.

' And your family's agreement with the Flints won't change that.'

"This seat is for people who matter."

The older girl stared her in the eye for several long moments, the shadow of a sneer playing on her face as her wand twitched in her hand.

' I dare you.' She thought. 'Give me a reason.'

Forsyth didn't, instead she motioned towards her posy, grabbing her things before stalking off.

She smiled as she thought about what must be going through her classmate's heads; 'if the Head Girl is beneath her, who isn't?'

Her eyes followed Draco Malfoy as he used the commotion to slip out of the common room, she debated whether or not she should give chase.

The decision was taken out of her hand a moment later.

"Lady Greengrass." A cordial voice interrupted from beside her, drawing Daphne's attention to a tall, lanky girl with red hair and a pale complexion.

"Miss Magwood?" She replied politely to the seventh year, one of only three muggleborns in Slytherin.

"Please, call me Maggie, or Magdalene."

Once upon a time Astoria had approached the girl about tutoring her in potions. While Daphne hadn't known the two to be particularly close, the aspiring healer had been shooting her glances since the beginning of term.

"How are you, Maggie?" She said, doing the best to mimic Astoria's charming tone and easy smile.

The older girl's eyes drifted slightly towards a corner of the room almost out of her range of vision.

' Julie Atwood, Calypso Rosier, Benjamin Morningstar.'

A wealthy halfblood, a powerful pureblood, and a sixth year quidditch star.

The corner of her eyes stayed on the strawberry blonde closest to the staircase.

" She just wants to fit in, Daph. She's used to getting what she wants and now she's a second class citizen! Can you imagine?"

She frowned. "Then have your boyfriend tell them to stop."

Astoria hadn't. Instead her sister had befriended the prissy little halfblood.

Astoria had helped all three of them, she realized.

Magdalene's green eyes hardened.

"If you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask." Her eyes shifted to Malfoy's preferred seat in the common room. "They deserve to suffer for what they did to your family."

The older girl turned to walk away when Daphne reached out impulsively, grabbing the girl by the elbow.

"Would you and your friends care to join me?"

" Miss Forsyth, this seat is for people who matter."

He heard as he made to leave the common room, well aware of the eyes currently on him.

' She's going to kill me.' He thought to himself.

If Daphne Greengrass had decided to kill him, there was little he could do to stop her - he was good with a wand, but not prodigious; and those who would help him wouldn't dare to defy Bellatrix Lestrange.

' And why wouldn't she?' He'd want to kill the people he thought responsible for the murder of his family.

' I have to do something.'

But what could he do? She wouldn't believe him, and Potter wouldn't let Draco approach him directly.

' The Weasley twins.'

He had observed them enough to realize that they were keeping tabs on Diagon Alley over the summer, andif his hunch was correct, they were in regular contact with Potter.

Changing his trajectory, Draco turned on his heel and headed towards the owlery.

The quill in his pocket vibrated twice, alerting him to the new arrivals.

"They're here." He whispered to the empty spot next to him.

The twins were protected by surprisingly good disillusionment charms of their own - undoubtedly the result of spending nights stalking the dark, empty corridors of the castle late at night.

Instead of greeting them, one of the twins began to pace the hallway.

' Ten paces this way, ten paces that way, ten more paces this way.' He counted, Daphne watching the exhibit with as much attention as him.

Upon the third pass, a nondescript door appeared.

"What the hell?" Daphne said lightly, drawing the attention of the two other forms.

The other forms paused for a long moment before slipping into the room, leaving the door ajar.

A moment later the door was closed and the Weasley twins, he, and Daphne were all visible again.

' What is this room?'

A bunk sat on the wall closest to the door while a desk with two chairs and several shelves filled with vials sat on the far wall, the other three walls were covered with quidditch posters.

"Is this the house elf chambers?" Daphne asked inquisitively as she spun on her heel to get a full view of the cramped room.

He winced. He had a sneaking suspicion that this was the twin's room at their home.

But Daphne wouldn't know that. The eldest Greengrass daughter had never known discomfort.

' But how?'

"It's our room at home." Fred said tensely.

Sensing his question, Fred continued.

"No we don't know the magic behind the room. All we know is that you walk passed that space on the wall three teams picturing the room you want, and the castle provides. The elf's told us after the incident in third year."

' This is turning out to be one hell of a week.'

Ignoring the sense of terror felt by most of the castle as Voldemort waged a civil war, he and Daphne had discovered two incredible secrets of the castle in two nights.

He wanted to ask more questions, but Fred continued.

"Can you cast some privacy charms, the strongest you know?"

He raised an eyebrow at the nervous tone, but complied, too interested to question the command.

' Where's this going?'

Satisfied that they wouldn't be overheard, Fred walked over to the desk, opening the top drawer and removing a bottle of firewhisky, uncorking it and taking a long pull with a well-practiced ease.

Fred's voice cracked slightly as he passed the bottle to George; "Penelope Clearwater was one of our informants at the ministry."

He and Daphne shared a glance.

"What did she do?" Daphne inquired.

The pair had a well-practiced routine by now. Daphne would ask the questions, he would observe.

Across from him George stayed quite, playing the same role.

"She worked the front desk at the records archives."

Fred's voice quivered lightly and his eyes darted around the room discreetly, across from him George appeared less nervous.

Daphne paused for a moment to collect herself and Fred offered no additional information.

When it came down to it the twins, unlike their older brother, didn't involve themselves in the war out of honor - they needed the gold and saw their information gathering to be an acceptable risk.

"Tell me about all of her updates." Daphne asked pointedly.

Fred glanced at George and they both shrugged.

"She was useless for the most part." George spoke up, surprising everyone.

The pretty girl always did well in school, even if, as he had overheard Professor Flitwick once say, she lacked ambition.

"She liked to party in Whisper Alley, we thought she'd be able to provide some decent gossip. You know, the type of rumors drunks spew at last call." George stated with a casual shrug.

"Only she didn't." Fred took over. "We kept her on the payroll because she's pretty and can get us things a minor can't buy."

' Get to the point.'

"Where are you going with this?"

Fred nodded. "Right." He said glancing at George again. "Two weeks ago she contacted me, telling me she had some information that could interest us."

"And?"

"And we met." He said awkwardly. "She was telling us about a guy named Corban Yaxley who kept exploring the ancestral security records room."

"So?" Daphne blurted out, voicing his own thoughts.

"He went there over two dozen times the last couple of months under guise of going browsing other areas."

The Yaxley's former patriarch was a vibrant supporter of Voldemort's during the first war.

"That's awfully flimsy." Daphne sighed dramatically as she began to pack her things.

"That's what I said." Fred said, the pronounced tremor in the older boy's voice caused Daphne to pause.

"What else did she say?" She responded with interest.

He stared at her nervously for several moments.

"I don't know." He started as his voice cracked. "I told her that what she was telling me wasn't worth anything and she vowed to find something of use. She disappeared before we could meet again."

Daphne moved to respond, but George put an arm on his shoulder and directed him towards the other side of the room before casting several privacy charms of his own.

"The Malfoy's had nothing to do with the murder of Daphne's family, according to Draco." George said in a hurried whisper.

"What?" He responded smartly, the statement catching him off guard.

"We received an owl from him an hour ago. He swears it, and says he knows who killed the Greengrass family, if you're willing to listen."

It wasn't the first time that Draco professed innocence.

" He's lying." Daphne was sure of it.

' But that doesn't make it true.'

"Why should I trust a word Malfoy says?"

"Because he knows we spy for you, he knows Daphne's following him, and he's willing to betray Voldemort." George shrugged. "I don't think he's smart enough to lay some elaborate trap."

"He assured us he wouldn't say anything about us spying for you. All he wants is to meet with you alone, without Daphne."

He nodded. Even if it was a trap, he could kill Malfoy in an instant, if it came down to it.

"I'll think about it."

George nodded his head as Daphne grabbed his arm. "Pay them and let's leave." She stated bluntly.

He sighed as he handed over the large bag of galleons.

"Good work."

With a nod the twins disappeared under a disillusionment charm and left the room, leaving the pair alone in thought.

"Are you ready, my lord?"

Voldemort gave DuPont a resolute nod; not allowing the apprehension he was feeling to show on his face.

He felt a young Tom Riddle's fearful nature flicker into being as it battled for supremacy of his psyche, leaving him feeling as powerless as he had at 'Wool's Orphanage.'

" Get out of here, snake boy!"

He snarled briefly at the memory of his former bully's before a twisted smile formed on his serpentine face.

" Attack!" He hissed towards the half dozen snakes, directing them towards the three teenagers tied to chairs in front of him. "You'll die a slow death. I've made sure of that."

He felt a tinge of pleasure at the memory, one of the earliest he had of taking back control of his life.

His mind wandered back to the procedure at hand; he was not in an ideal state of mind to undergo such an experiment, but the arithmancy had dictated his schedule.

' A solution must be found.'

It was growing difficult to keep his problems from his followers.

' That cannot happen.'

He was under no illusion that his inner circle was following him over some feeling of kinship towards him or his vision. Maybe that had been true once-upon-a-time in the early years of his revolution, but the loyalty of his oldest followers had waned in his absence as they enjoyed a life of leisure while he suffered.

It shined through in Lucius's hesitation and Bella's questions; he didn't have time to justify his actions to them.

' If they feel emboldened, how long before the rest? How long until a group of them grow the nerve to challenge Lord Voldemort?'

Snape was loyal as long as his lifestyle wasn't threatened, while Rookwood wouldn't hesitate to abandon him if it meant access to more knowledge.

It was fear and the lust for power that kept his inner circle in place, right now he was having issues instilling that fear.

He moved through the ritual chamber laboriously, the air thick with magic as he crossed the heavily saturated threshold of the ritual circle, idly noticing that he was glowing a dark purple.

The glowing intensified as DuPont's chanting picked up; the man transitioning seamlessly between Latin, Greek, and Egyptian.

The Dark Lord quickly realized he wasn't the only one feeling apprehensive about DuPont's ritual - if the Frenchman's face was anything to go by.

' Potter.' This was all his fault; the killing curse hitting the boy and creating an accidental horcrux had destroyed years of arithmetic formulas and rituals meant to stabilize the seven separate pieces of his soul.

It had all been perfect, until that night.

DuPont's chanting slowed as the older man cautiously moved the goblet containing the strangers' soul onto the dais next to him.

He felt his body condense tightly, causing him to visibly grimace at the force.

"We're almost done, my lord." The nervous voice of Marcel DuPont stated from just outside the circle.

He gave an annoyed nod, motioning for the man to get on with the task at hand.

Slowly DuPont began to chant once more, his wand dancing in the air in front of him.

This time the goblet and Voldemort both began to glow as DuPont's volume picked up, both in volume and in excitement.

Voldemort felt his feet levitate off the ground as his organs compressed inside of him, eliciting a painful moan from the dark lord.

The necromancer's eyes widened briefly at his pain, and Voldemort felt his rage bubble to the surface at his display of weakness.

The pain shot through his body before settling in his chest, causing him to scream in agony.

Next to him, the goblet was floating several meters above the dais, a foul shade floating beside it.

In front of him DuPont continued his chant, his pain intensifying with each word as the shade meandered its way towards him.

Blood began to form in his mouth as the dark lord bit his tongue, unwilling to show any more weakness in front of this sycophant.

The blood began to drip out of his mouth as the shade fought against DuPont, fighting the ritual meant to unify the two souls.

The air cackled loudly as DuPont worked to finish the ritual that would restore him.

Through his blurred vision he briefly saw the shade ram itself into the hole in his chest as his world exploded in agony, his extremities twitching in pain as the shade was forcefully rejected by what remained of his own soul.

Undeterred the Frenchman tried again.

And again the unwilling shade rammed into his chest, and again Voldemort let out a pained scream.

Upon being rejected for a second time, the soul retreated to its vessel and the chanting stopped, leaving him shaking in pain.

The pair sat quietly for several seconds while he regained his composure, his rage building.

"The Dark Mark is tied to your soul, yes?"

" Crucio." He hissed by way of response, throwing all of his hatred, all of his humiliation into that one curse.

He couldn't believe he had agreed to such a poorly designed ritual. DuPont had to know it wouldn't work.

' Was he trying to humiliate me?'

He felt ten all over again.

The necromancer roared out in pain as he held him under the spell for nearly thirty seconds, breaking the curse just in time to save the man's sanity.

Black dragon hide boots echoed off the chamber floor as he approached the convulsing man; the urge to kill DuPont and look for another solution nearly overwhelming him.

' That would be rather shortsighted of you.' He thought as his boot connected with the man's ribs.

It was true; there were few necromancers in the world, none matching the brilliance of the Frenchman writhing on the floor in front of him.

' You're assuming that he is capable of discovering the answer.'

What if DuPont couldn't help him? What if the answer lied elsewhere?

He delivered another kick to the shaking man.

' Could a ritual be designed that could mimic a soul?'

Was it possible to design and create a soul?

Letting up on his punishment, he sat in thought as the older man twitched involuntarily on the hard floor next to him.

"Where do we go from here, Marcel?" His voice was barely above a whisper and laced with danger.

The necromancer hesitated slightly. "Reunification, my lord. That's your best bet."

' Back to this option?'

Walking amongst the mortals once more did not appeal to him.

' Although Dumbledore is gone. There's nobody left to fear.' Particularly if reunification returned him to full strength.

"I only have one horcrux left, Marcel." He said, his voice carrying dangerous undertones. "We don't even know if it will work."

Marcel gave a nervous shrug. "It couldn't possibly be worse, my lord."

Could a quarter of his soul stabilize him? Was it even worth it to try? How would he even retrieve his last horcrux?

Both Bellatrix's spy and Severus lacked the necessary abilities to retrieve his old diary.

' Potter doesn't.' And if Bellatrix was correct than he was aware of the Chamber of Secrets as well as his old study.

' As long as the diary remains at Hogwarts, there is a real threat to my power.'

He flattened his body against his broom in his best imitation of Viktor Krum his feet dangling a safe five meters off the ground, zipping through the early-October midnight sky.

It had been a week since their meeting with Fred and George and there had been no further updates from the twins as-of-yet, though he had caught Draco Malfoy staring at him on several occasions from across the great hall.

' Lean left.' Harry told himself, the blades of his back running parallel with the ground as he jetted diagonally across the dark quidditch pitch.

For the first time in a long time Harry found himself at a loss; did he believe the shaky evidence presented by his girlfriend against someone who would be easy to blame? Or did he take a more objective approach to the entire situation?

' There's no proof.' That was the problem. As inept as they were, the Order of the Phoenix had a habit of figuring out who was responsible for these types of things, and without any evidence as to what Lucius and Alfred were arguing about moments before his death, it was hard to condemn him for the death of the Greengrass family, no matter how despicable a person Lucius Malfoy may be.

Daphne hadn't been the only one investigating Draco Malfoy, he had spent hours reviewing what he knew about the Malfoy's and Draco's relationship with Astoria.

Recalling memories of Astoria with Draco, and conversations he had had with those who knew them best, Draco had nothing to do with the death of Astoria, though he couldn't say the same about Lucius.

" Draco stopped reporting on Astoria months ago." Blaise Zabini's words from fourth year echoed in his mind, seemingly confirming his own observations and what he could recall from Terry's reports.

' Lean right.' He thought, his Nimbus 3000 responding to his tiniest impulses, as though his mind and the broom shared a mental link.

A sharp turn had him hugging the closest of the three rings as he sped back across the pitch once more.

' Daphne will never believe the Draco had nothing to do with her family's murder. She'll want retribution.'

In that sense Draco Malfoy may have dug his own grave, having spent years giving off the impression that he was his father's confidant didn't help his claims at innocence.

He shook those thoughts from his mind, his focus returning to the broom he was guiding.

'" Happy 15 th Birthday, Lord Potter." - Henry Worth IV, CEO Nimbus Inc.'

The gesture had made him think of Terry, who had been the one to initially explain his family's involvement in the founding of Nimbus Inc.

' Terry would know how to handle Malfoy.'

A tinge of guilt shot through him as he thought of his best friend. 'Can I only be bothered to think of him when I need his advice?'

The thought made him feel guilty, Terry deserved better.

' What am I supposed to do, wallow in his memory?' The idea seemed foreign, and inconsequential, yet somehow he felt as if he owed it to Terry to show more public concern.

' I didn't do that for Hermione, or Flitwick, or Sirius; and they were dead!' He rationalized. 'Terry could be alive.' His subconscious countered. 'He could be alive, and I'm doing nothing.'

' All you can do is live your life, let his parents worry about Terry.' The rationale behind his thoughts made him feel selfish.

He pulled up slightly, shooting towards the sky fast as a rocket past Ravenclaw Tower before settling just above the legendary schools tallest tower, his green eyes memorizing every inch of the castle grounds before settling on the vast forest set just to the north of the castles walls.

Antonin Dolohov's aerial display in the valley had opened his eyes to a whole new type of warfare, presenting Harry with a new skill to master.

He pressed forward, past the castle grounds and out over the canopy of the forbidden forest until Hogwarts was a long-off dot in the distance.

As he went, he slowly began going through an uncomfortable series of dips and dives, eager to become proficient enough to survive an aerial conflict.

His father had been a great flier, Sirius had said; regaling him with stories of when the two of them starred as chasers for Gryffindor, dominating both the school and the summer leagues for years.

At least that's how Sirius had told it.

When he was confident he was far enough from castle grounds, he conjured a series of small targets, leaving them suspended at various heights off the ground.

He and Daphne had been so preoccupied with a ground attack they had nearly been killed by Dolohov's assault from above.

He couldn't allow that to happen again.

His wand in his hand and a smile on his handsome features, Harry took a deep breath to settle himself before slowly floating around the course high above the forbidden forest.

As he moved he took aim at the first target, doing his best to square his aim through the wind.

The first glob of paint flew high and to the right, missing the target completely and covering the forest floor below.

He frowned, adjusting his body slightly as he circled around to approach the target once more.

This time some of the paint found its mark, the rest finding its way to the forest floor twenty meters below.

' Progress.' He thought, refusing to let himself get dejected by his lack of instant success as he approached a third time, determined to hit the target on his next attempt.

His third attempt found its mark, causing a brief ghost of a smile to make its way across his face at his small success before he rounded on the target again, unwilling to relish in the miniscule victory.

' Faster now.'

She stood unnoticed, obscured by layers of disillusionment charms at the back of the dingy pub, observing the seemingly empty table that seemed to go ignored by the other patrons.

She had been somewhat surprised by the choice of venue for this particular meeting, having become used to the empty rooms and dingy alleyways her paranoid contact usually preferred.

' Time to make a decision.' Septima thought to herself with a frown.

' She's there.' She knew she was, Bellatrix may have done a good enough job of hiding herself, but the low-level brut watching the same table from a ways down gave away her location.

' Imbecile is practically displaying his mark.' Not for the first time she questioned the quality of the dark lords Death Eaters.

' Tick-tock, Septima. Tick-tock.' Bellatrix would not tolerate tardiness, and she was already pushing her limits.

' Maybe another time.' She thought with a disappointed sigh, removing most of her disillusionment charms, she stepped through the wards protecting Voldemort's fearsome general and sat down.

"You decided to make your presence known after all." The older woman stated bluntly, a severe look on her worn face.

Idly batting at a fly - she took a moment to gather her thoughts, only slightly surprised at having been found out.

"It took me a moment to find you." The lie came as easy as Bellatrix's acceptance of it. "Your bodyguard gave you away."

Bellatrix's violet eyes met her own for the first time as she took a sip of her water, a bemused expression on her face.

"I'll have to kill him then." She said with a casual laugh.

' Poor chap.' She thought, not envying the man in the slightest.

The pair sat in an awkward silence for several long moments, each waiting for the other to be the first to speak.

' Are we thinking the same thing?' It wouldn't surprise her; Bella had taught her everything she knew.

' Which means she realizes we've nearly reached the end of our journey together.' All that was left was to ensure her journey with Voldemort ended before Voldemort's journey with her.

There were no clever quips or lovely promises, not now, not after she had achieved her goal; Septima had ran out of use for Bellatrix and they both knew it.

She thought it would hurt more, seeing how little she actually meant to the older woman.

"Has Potter made progress on the Chamber of Secrets?"

' Enough that I cannot accurately monitor him.'

As Albus had used Grindelwald to propel his career, she had used Voldemort to propel hers.

The power wielded between Potter and Greengrass would propel her further still.

' As long as they never learn the truth.' A painful death would greet her if Harry or Daphne found out what she had done, she was sure of it.

She found the risk arousing.

"To the best of my knowledge Potter hasn't tested his luck since showing Greengrass his progress at the beginning of the year."

Bellatrix offered her a curt nod.

' She doesn't believe me.' It was a dangerous game they were playing.

"Keep me posted." Bellatrix said casually, swatting at a fly hovering next to her drink.

' Disgusting pub.' She longed for the comfort of her private bath back at Hogwarts.

' And a glass of chardonnay.'

"Is there anything in particular our lord would like me to pay attention to?" She asked submissively.

' Best to play my part.'

The dark haired sociopath stared at her intensely as she pondered the options in her head. "Not right now." Bellatrix replied, finishing her drink and standing up to leave abruptly. "We'll meet again in a few weeks."

She wasn't going to give her any more information, not now, not unless the dark lord demanded it.

Bellatrix Lestrange was a praying mantis.

' If the dark lord doesn't have use for me, Bellatrix will kill me.' She had no doubt about that.

Giving her a brief nod in return, Bellatrix turned on her heel and stalked out, leaving Septima alone with her thoughts.

Waiting until she was certain the woman was gone, Septima finished her drink, smiling despite herself.

Soon it would all be over.