Iuga Sortis III: The Beginning

Fifteen

She woke up with a gasp, her body tensing harshly before she willed her muscles to relax and sink into the mattress of her bed. She put her fist to her heart as she flung the covers from her legs and swung them over the edge of the bed, the soft cotton of her bedspread gave a quiet thud as it fell in a heap on the floor.

She took deep breaths - eyes closed - and chanted a calming incantation she thought took too damn long to work. The dream seemed so real . . . the laughter grating her tender eardrums and the look of horror on his face as that monster's hand came down-

"Don't touch me!" she screamed as a warm hand clamped her shoulder, and she jumped off the bed, her body trembling from fright and confusion. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she wiped them away, shaking her head as if trying to push all the badness and fear away.

"Love, what happened?"

His eyes were fully alert and dilated, his body coiled for action. The sheet fell away to reveal the boxer shorts he wore to bed that night - a deep red with pink hearts she gave him as a gag gift.

You're safe . . . you're safe . . .

Once she calmed a bit, she sucked in a large breath, dropping her hands and balling them into tight fists. She hadn't had a dream like that in years, but whenever she did, something big was going to happen.

"Jamilah . . ." he said, now on his knees as he crawled to the edge of the bed. Jamilah bit her lip and went to him, her fingers trailing over his face, paying particular attention to the hair that lined his jaw, chin, and upper lip. It was smooth then rough as she examined the contours of his face, but all warm . . . far different from the face she caressed in her dream.

It was cold as ice.

She sobbed again and shook her head. He whispered soothing nonsensical words to her, and Jamilah wrapped her arms around his head and clasped him to her, his head above her heart. His arms went around her waist and held her tight, his fingers caressing the bumpy vertebrae of her back. They didn't say anything; he let her cry and she let him hold her, taking comfort in the fact he was there and not . . .

"Death . . . there's gonna be so much death . . ."

He brought her closer, his lips brushing against the exposed skin from her nightgown. "Death? I'm no stranger to death," he teased.

She thumped his head, then caressed the small wound away. "Don't even joke about that, Sirius! I don't know what I'd do if you-"

She didn't finish the thought, instead kissed the top of his head lingeringly. He kissed the curve of her breast and she sighed.

"Come back to bed, love," he said softly, pulling back and looking into her eyes. They were full of concern and compassion. Jamilah kissed his forehead. Sirius pulled her hands from his neck and kissed her knuckles, and she squeezed his hands in response before taking a step back.

"Where are you going?" he asked, crawling further on the bed and bobbing up and down for his efforts.

"I have to talk to Albus," she said with a frown. "Severus can't go to the next Death Eater meeting . . . if he does, he won't be coming back . . ."

Though it was dim in the room, she saw him grow pale and shake his head. "No . . . no ... you must be mistaken-"

"I saw it wit' my own eyes, Sirius. I saw Pettigrew hold that knife over his head before plungin' it down and-"

Another sob claimed her, and Sirius pulled her to him, reclining in the bed and resting her atop him. Hot tears fell on his neck and he rubbed her back in long, comforting strokes. They both knew this remedy would only calm her temporarily, and considering the lack of sleep she'd been getting these past few weeks, neither could just write this dream off as a bad one.

"This is the clearest one you've had yet, love," Sirius whispered after a while. Jamilah nodded, tucking her feet under the bunched covers while playing with the tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck. Soon she felt the heavy spread upon her, and she felt cocooned and safe.

"Dumbledore called it, didn't he? That Crabbe boy is a sneaky lil' bastard!" She pulled back and stared into his eyes, her own wide with fear. "What if they know about you, now? I mean, how did he know your nickname for Severus? He's probably known you were there all this time! Or maybe not, maybe he looked into a Pensieve . . ."

Sirius lifted his head and kissed her words silent, a soft peck, which caused her to whimper. "Go to sleep, Jam. We'll tell him in the morning."

She shook her head and scrambled out of bed, grabbing her dressing gown before pulling on a tassel rope hanging from the ceiling. The wall rumbled as a portrait of unicorns rose and the stones behind it tumbled in configuration to reveal a set of stairs. Sirius sighed and collapsed on the bed.

"He's probably sleeping, love," Sirius said wearily.

Jamilah sucked her teeth. "Well I guess Imma hafta wake him up, ain't I?"

He was about to speak again but she started up the stairs, her steps efficient so that she reached Dumbledore's door quickly. She'd barely lifted her hand to rap it when it opened, revealing a tired, yet awake Dumbledore.

"Jamilah, dear, I was expecting you . . ."

Jamilah huffed and brushed passed him; she hated it when he did that. Fawkes was preening atop his cage and the portraits dozed; yet to Jamilah's ears the snores seemed affected rather than genuine. Dumbledore went to his desk, straightening parchments and quills in a show of neatness. Jamilah placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head to the door.

"Ain't you gonna close it?"

Dumbledore looked at her above his glasses, his eyes sparkling. "Sirius should be here soon, it would be rude to close the door on him."

Jamilah pursed her lips together and Summoned a chair so she could sit. She closed her eyes and tried to recall her dream, wanting to make sure everything she'd say would be accurate. She heard the heavy footsteps echo in the stairwell and soon Sirius took a seat beside her, grabbing her hand from her lap to place it on his armrest, yet her eyes never opened. The click of the door was the last conscious sound Jamilah heard, her mind focused on her memory . . .

The moon was half shrouded by thin clouds in a dark, starless sky, providing an ominous backdrop for the meeting. The field where they were was large, open, and full of brown, dying grass - weeds more like it.

Men stood in a circle, masked with chilling, blank gray faces, and black robes covered them completely.

There were three bodies in the circle - one of the robed men, a green, snake-like creature, and a short, bent-over man whose puny stature belied the venomous strength he held. The man in the black robes was on his knees, mask-less, but his face was stoic and unafraid. The bent-over creature's hands were behind his back, and his eyes were maniacal. The snake-like creature's red eyes were angry, yet amused.

"Well, well, well, seems I found a snake in the grass . . ." Snake-like Creature hissed.

The circle cackled on cue, and the man's cheek tensed in response. Bent-over Man's lip curled slightly, but nothing of his posture changed.

"I don't do well with traitors, Severus. I thought we kept you at Hogwarts to spy on them for us, not the other way around . . ."

Severus said nothing, merely looking ahead as if Snake-like Creature and Bent-over Man weren't there. Snake-like Creature began twirling his wand between his fingers before pointing it at Severus.

"Crucio."

His body spasmed, convulsed, and trembled; yet he didn't utter a sound. Blood trickled from his nose, and his eyes rolled into his sockets - the only signs he was in extreme pain. The circle was quiet throughout the entire ordeal - immovable as statues. Bent-Over Man's lip curled even more, and an eerie red glint formed in his normally blue eyes.

The curse stopped, yet Severus continued to twitch as he rested on his side. His feet and hands, it turned out, were bound with leather and it cut into his flesh, red stain marks streaming from his wrists. Bent-over Man stepped closer to the man.

"I hope you know, all you've done, has been for naught. If it hadn't been for our loyal follower Young Crabbe, we would've never got the information you oh, so conveniently forgot to tell us-like her name . . ."

Severus still didn't speak, and the red in Bent-over Man's eyes became darker. Yelling, he kicked Severus hard in the gut, but again the other man didn't emit a sound, merely wincing in reaction to the kick. Snake-like Creature glared at Bent-over Man, who stopped his leg from continuing the arc headed to Severus's groin. Bent-over Man cut his eyes at Snake-like Creature, yet put his foot down and backed away from the prone man. Severus managed to get back on his knees and look ahead as he once did, only to have Snake-like Creature nod to Bent-over Man, who finished his foot's initial trip to Severus's crotch. Severus's eyes bulged and his teeth clenched, but otherwise he was silent.

"Why don't you scream out?" Snake-like Creature asked, and though the voice was calm, there was underlying frustration and anger. Severus heard this, and he allowed himself to smirk. Snake-like Creature nodded to Bent-Over Man and he backhanded Severus in the mouth with his silver hand.

Severus's head snapped back with a sickening crack; blood and bigger white chunks fell out of his mouth onto his robes and in the grass. Both Snake-like Creature and Bent-Over Man chuckled, and the circle mimicked them. Severus still remained stoic and silent.

"Of course, the name didn't mean much," the Snake-like Creature continued. "It was what Young Crabbe said afterwards that piqued my interest . . . favored of Snape, very powerful magic . . . secret training with Young Malfoy, Miss Weasley, and Potter . . . it was all too intriguing to ignore . . ."

The clouds now completely covered the moon, and the circle used wands to provide light. The blue glow cast shadows across Severus's face, making the blood streaks on his cheeks appear magenta. The temperature had dropped significantly, but no one made a move to draw his robes tighter across his body. Bent-Over Man crouched to Severus's level, a broad grin on his face.

"Her name, then, is Nia-Nia Roberts. Her mother's name was Malika Roberts - the nigger bitch whom you fucked before bringing her to me for the Conception Ritual . . . methinks you've been playing us for fools since then, haven't you?"

Severus dragged his black eyes to meet the blue of Bent-Over Man's, only to break contact and look over the field again. Bent-Over Man hissed and gripped Severus's chin with his silver hand, the metal tearing the flesh and bruising the skin. "You ruined her!"

"I saved her . . . and made her stronger in the process."

"You lied to us - that moment in Lucius's study when we asked you about the conception! You said it didn't take!"

Severus grinned and met the other's eyes. "It didn't take; she didn't become the spawn of evil as you wanted her to be."

It was frighteningly still, the wind coming to a complete stop and the circle unmoving. Suddenly Bent-Over man moved his hand from Severus's chin to sock him in the throat. The Potions Master's eyes widened and watered as he began to choke, his body heaving, desperate for air.

"You insolent fool! You've been around those bloody Gryffindors too much!"

Severus finally caught his breath and chuckled, the sound more a wheeze. "This coming from an actual Gryffindor himself!"

Bent-over Man stood and kneed Severus in the nose, blood squirting in a crimson arc past Bent-over Man's thigh. Severus's head bent forward briefly before he faced ahead again, the blood running along his lips and chin down his throat.

"Imagine all of the re-teaching we'll have to give her when she joins our ranks . . . I'm sure Young Crabbe, and others, will be most happy to 'tutor' her . . ."

The circle snickered, and Severus's jaw clenched. Bent-Over Man scowled at the circle and glared at Snake-like Creature. "The only one who'll be doing any 'tutoring' is I! She's mine, Voldie - don't ever forget that!"

Snake-like man merely waved the declaration away, claiming it as no consequence.

"Regardless, she will be with us, and kill the very boy she tried to save when she made the deal with us . . . that young voice finally has a name," Snake-like Creature muttered.

"Nia Roberts . . . she's the spitting image of my Isis . . . I cannot wait to claim her . . ."

"You touch her and I will kill you," Severus said lowly, but its meaning echoed throughout the plain.

Bent-over Man raised an eyebrow at the threat, then began to laugh. The circle did not participate. There was something basically evil about it; a morbid, sinister sound that curled hairs and toes with dread. His flesh hand clutched Severus's throat, and his face became red from lack of oxygen. "I'd like to see you try . . . with no hands . . ."

Suddenly, Severus screamed, a bloodcurdling wail that vibrated through the night from its loudness and force. Behind the kneeling man was a pile of ashes - the remains of what used to be his hands.

"And even if you could do wandless magic, I'd love to see you command it without being able to speak . . ."

Severus's face contorted and he retched, large red chunks coming from his mouth onto the brown grass below. He screamed again, but his mouth was a black cavern of nothingness - his teeth, gums, and tongue no longer there. Then his lips were melded shut; his face only had eyes and a nose.

His mouth no longer existed.

Bent-over Man stepped away from Severus and lifted a foot, showing a spiked blade from the toe of it. "This is just in case you ever have the inclination to 'save' someone again" The foot disappeared between Severus's legs, and he slumped over, muffled screams coming from him and his shoulders wracking. Finally, Bent-over Man brought both hands before him to reveal a knife - the very knife used to resurrect Snake-like Creature three years prior.

"And since you apparently have a soft spot for Mudblood filth now, here's a concept I'm sure you know: What's that expression used for vengeance?" Snake-like Creature asked, tapping his bony fingers in the area below his lower lip. "Ah yes! An eye for an eye . . . meaning: you stab our back, we'll stab yours!"

The moon was revealed, and its light danced across the blade held high above the fallen body, right before plunging it into his-

" . . . Back, love . . . come back to us . . . you're safe, you're safe . . ."

She opened the eyes only to be greeted by darkness. She screamed and tried to push away, only to be met with resistance. Her fists pummeled something hard and unyielding before the bands at her back grasped her fists gently. The tenderness made all of her anxiousness flee and she pulled back slowly. Black eyes greeted hers and shaky hands caressed the cheeks below them.

"Oh, Severus!" she cried, and buried her head in his chest. Those arms came around her again and she allowed herself to be held. Another hand caressed her back and squeezed her shoulders, and a kiss touched her temple. After some time, she finally calmed and was well enough to sit back in her chair, her hand linked through another's tightly.

Severus stood behind her chair and he looked at the Headmaster with an expressionless façade.

"I've been Summoned."

The pronouncement dropped like an axe and she immediately tensed. Sirius squeezed her hand and she willed her body to relax. Dumbledore's eyes closed for the space of a second before he opened them and his hand, revealing a feather.

"This is a portkey. It will be activated the moment you are in life-threatening danger. Touch it; it only needs the barest of contact, and you will be sent to safety."

Jamilah was angry. After all she went through, all she saw him experience, Dumbledore was still going to send him to his death? "He ain't goin'!"

The snarl caused three heads to snap in her direction. She glared at her grandfather in disgust. "Ain't he purged himself from his sins yet? I won't have my granddaughter's father goin' to his death! I won't!"

Dumbledore looked to the ceiling and sighed. "It cannot be helped, Jamilah."

"The hell!"

Sirius snickered, and she shot him a scathing look. He shrunk in his seat and whimpered.

"I see she has you trained rather well," Severus said silkily.

"Bite me!" Sirius growled.

"I'll leave that to Jamilah, thank you."

Jamilah rolled her eyes, not believing they could quarrel at a time like this. Things were escalating into proportions where they would not be easily contained. Apparently, Crabbe told the Dark most of the secrets - the main of which was Nia. Sending Severus to the Death Eater's meeting was like putting a snowball into the hottest recess of hell.

And the snowball had a better chance of surviving.

Apparently, she'd said that out loud, for Severus crouched before her, taking her free hand and clasping it to his heart. His eyes were determined and bored into hers. Her body trembled from their intensity. "If my death protects Nia for even a second longer than my life would, I will forfeit my life. She is the most precious thing in this world to me, and I'd gladly give anything up for her."

Jamilah felt her eyes water and she ducked her head until she regained control of her emotions. "You shouldn't have to do that. She's gonna need you with her."

Severus snorted and looked around the room. The portraits had since stopped their pretend sleep and looked upon them with fascination and interest. "These portraits watched me as I came to the Headmaster almost twenty years ago, begging for mercy for my actions with the Death Eaters. He warned me it was not going to be an easy road, and Merlin knows it wasn't."

"But you traveled it well, my boy, very well," Dumbledore said softly.

Severus allowed a rare genuine grin to grace his face. "Along my journey came Nia, and I realized why I was saved - to protect her, my daughter, from the likes of Voldemort and Set . . . now there are others who can do the job for me: Mr. Malfoy, the younger, Mr. Potter, the younger-"

"The same 'Mr. Potter, the younger,' you've forbidden her to see?" Sirius said with a bit of an edge.

"They can see each other once they've had The Talk. Have they had The Talk?" Jamilah and Sirius said nothing. "Then Mr. Potter will have to hold off on his methods of 'protection' at the moment, considering a Contraception Spell does little against Avada Kedavra . . ."

Jamilah stopped Sirius from saving Voldemort and Set the trouble of killing Severus, using her arm as a barrier to keep him in his seat. Sirius snarled but stayed put and Jamilah glared at the other man.

"Kind of hard to 'talk' when Nia won't," Jamilah said in her defense.

Severus sighed and rolled his eyes.. "It doesn't require her to speak. You talk, she listens, and we won't experience another debacle as occurred two weeks ago with Mr. Crabbe - speaking of which, even Mr. Goyle, the younger, watches out for my daughter. And let's not forget Miss Weasley, who has blossomed into a formidable opponent in her own right; but more importantly, Nia is growing into a beautiful woman who may force Voldemort and Set to find protection from her!"

Any annoyance Jamilah felt toward the Slytherin dissipated once they went back to the original conversation. Though he'd been on these missions before, sometimes very badly affected, he always came back. There was never a doubt he would survive a Death Eater meeting, but now that black cloud hung over them just waiting to burst. Her hand cupped Severus's cheek and he leaned into it. "But she needs you!"

Severus nodded. "She'll continue to have me. I remember what you told her the day we buried Malika; that she was looking down upon her from heaven. Well, wherever I'm going, I will be watching her, too. I won't leave her, just as Malika didn't."

Jamilah took a deep breath and looked beyond Severus's shoulder to Fawkes's cage. The phoenix's eyes locked with hers, black eyes so much like Severus's it was uncanny.

A man who rose from the ashes.

Jamilah smiled then, placing a chaste, motherly kiss on Severus's lips. "You'll be fine, boy. You gonna come back." She hugged him tight, and sighed when he returned the embrace. They all stood, and Sirius, in a rare show of compassion, offered Severus his hand. The Slytherin looked at it skeptically before shaking it firmly and briefly.

"Go kick some Death Eater arse," Sirius commanded.

"I fear I don't have the requisite amount of legs for that feat, but I shall do my best."

They smirked at each other before Severus turned to the Headmaster. Dumbledore was sad, yet calm as he clasped his hands on either side of Severus's face. Severus grasped the older man's wrists and offered a wan smile.

"My dear boy . . ." Dumbledore began, the typical hoarseness even quieter. "My Son . . ."

Jamilah should've been surprised by the tear that fell from each man's eye, but she wasn't. Neither made a move to wipe it away, letting it run its course to the Oriental carpet below.

Severus began to nod and Dumbledore patted his cheek. "Headmas - Albus . . . Albus . . . thank you."

Dumbledore shook his head and smiled softly. "Thank you."

Severus squeezed Dumbledore's wrists as the other man patted his cheeks one last time.

The young Slytherin Head of House looked around the office with an air of nostalgia. The portraits had looks of pride on their faces and Severus bowed his head. Soon, he straightened his back and schooled his features to an expressionless glass as he stalked out of the room to meet his fate.

Sirius helped ease Jamilah's trembling body to her seat and she gripped the armrests tightly. Her lids slid over her eyes and she breathed deeply and swallowed thickly. She desperately needed some water.

"What do I tell my grandchild when she wakes up tomorrow? How do I tell her her father may not be coming back from this Summons?"

Dumbledore sank gingerly into his seat behind his desk, and Fawkes began to sing. Jamilah felt light and easy at the song and Dumbledore smiled.

"Severus can hear Fawkes's tune still, for it echoes down the stairwell."

"Is that a good thing?" Sirius asked.

Dumbledore's smile widened. "A very good thing; can't you hear him whistle?

"Whistle? He can whistle?"

Dumbledore grinned. "Who do you think taught him? 'Just whistle a happy tune' I say . . . I've always loved The King and I . . ."

Jamilah laughed then, a joyous sound that bounced all over the walls. Between Fawkes's song, Severus's whistling, and Dumbledore's randomness, her fear and dread began to lessen. There was hope; not all dreams became realities. There may be nothing to tell Nia when she woke up in the morning.

Nothing but "Daddy's home."

~~~~~~~~~

Light murmuring provided background music in the Great Hall, full of students studying and doing homework for their upcoming classes. Candlelight licked the golden walls of the Hall and the enchanted ceiling showed a clear, starry night. Sometimes a book would slam onto a tabletop from the weight of its heavy pages, or a round of giggles bubbled forth, but the quietness of the space almost rivaled Madame Pince's beloved library.

The snap of a point breaking shook her out of her trance, but the sound she heard next completely drew her attention from her work.

"Fucking quill . . ."

Ginny's ear twitched at the foul language coming from her left. She watched Harry throw the useless quill away from him and ruffle through his bag for another. Her eyes darted to the others around her, and they all seemed concerned by Harry's surly disposition. This was bordering on his fifth-year angst all over again, and he was barely bearable then.

Ron sent her a pointed look, glancing at his best friend briefly. "What crawled up his arse and died?"

"Ron!"

He merely rolled his eyes at his fiancée, and arched an eyebrow as he waited for Ginny's answer. "Well? I really don't fancy a repeat of fifth year . . ."

Ginny used her finger as a bookmark while her other hand pinched the bridge of her nose. Quite frankly, neither did she; but it wasn't her place to tell them what was wrong - even if she did know - and she told Ron as much. Her brother didn't really want to hear that answer and scowled at her.

"Fat lot o' good you do, then," he snapped.

"Don't take Harry's bad mood out on me, prat! You want to know what's wrong, ask him yourself! He's more bloody likely to open up to you than me anyway!" Harry, the subject of the mini-argument, seemed not to have registered he was the topic of discussion. Ginny cursed him for his obliqueness.

Ron's eyes narrowed. "Right! I'm not a god in this outfit! It may have something to do with that! Ever consider it?"

Ginny frowned slightly yet shook her head. If it was god related, she'd probably be feeling some effects as well . . . then again her bond with Harry wasn't nearly as strong as hers with Draco or even Nia for that matter.

"I think his issues have more to do with 'earthly' matters," she said with a shrug as she began to take notes again. The quill's scratching proved to be therapeutic, and her irritation lessened. "In any case, that gives you no call to get snappy with me!"

Blue eyes flashed briefly before becoming muted, and Ron sighed. "I just . . . worry about him, that's all. We are entering the final days of school, Ginny; nothing would be worse if Harry has to remain for another year because he didn't pass his N.E.W.T.s!"

Ginny raised an eyebrow at that. Hermione's really done a number on her brother, and she grinned. "Never knew you cared about marks so much, Ronald!"

He scowled at her again as Hermione kissed his cheek. "If he wants to be a top-notch Auror, he has to make the marks of one; isn't that right, love?"

Ron didn't answer save a roll of his eyes, but he brought Hermione's hand to his lips. Ginny felt a slight twinge of jealousy; they were able to express their love all the time . . . she and Draco; not so much. As it was, it had been a few weeks since they had been able to meet outside of patrolling rounds - for some reason they were no longer training partners. She ached for her Dragon.

"What's wrong with staying an extra year, then? Ginny'll be here . . ."

The redheaded witch looked at him as he stared at the relatively empty Slytherin table.

So will Nia . . .

Her eyebrows rose in understanding. Whatever put Harry in this funk had something to do with Nia. Ginny frowned; Nia hadn't said anything about problems between the two, but to be fair, her conversations with the young Slytherin were rushed and clipped at best.

Hermione noticed the direction of Harry's eyes. "You have to move on with your life, Harry. She'll be here in three years. You have to be the Auror you've always dreamed of, and you have to let her figure out what she wants to do."

Harry's eyes dropped and he was dangerously close to snapping another quill. Ginny eased it from his hand as it fell, his palm flat on the table.

"Fucking Malfoy . . . ."

Ginny arched an eyebrow. "Don't tell me that's why he's been unable to meet with me - because you're 'fucking Malfoy!'"

Harry jerked as if he'd been slapped and blanched. Ginny sniggered and looked at Ron, who was an ugly shade of green. Hermione's lips were in a fine line and a crease appeared between her brows.

"Don't tell me you've been fu-ouch! Bloody hell, Hermione!" Ron gritted out as he rubbed his side where Hermione elbowed him.

"That's none of your business, Ron Weasley!"

"Like hell it isn't!"

"Well then, I suppose you wouldn't be adverse to it if Ginny asked us similar question, hmm?"

Ron scoffed at that. "She's just the baby! Why would she care? Besides, we're engaged!"

Ginny was fast approaching a headache, and she really didn't fancy going over all the technicalities as to why her love life was eligible for public perusal but her brother's wasn't. She ignored the two squabbling and tried to focus on her studies. The text began to blur together into one large black blob and she sighed. Clearly, she wasn't in any mood to study. Ginny glanced at Harry and saw him staring intently at his own piece of parchment, though the quill had yet to move.

Ginny sighed again and stared at the enchanted ceiling. A star shot across her field of vision and she smiled, vaguely remembering something Nia said about shooting stars . . . that making a wish on them would make it come true. Ginny wondered if it would work if the star were in a magical ceiling . . .

Suddenly the doors slammed open and everyone's attention turned to them In marched a rather peeved girl, who looked wildly around the room until her eyes settled on the Gryffindor table. They narrowed, but then she smirked, and all but sauntered to where Ginny and her friends sat. She didn't know whether to be concerned or amused, so Ginny merely raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"I need to talk to you," she said speaking to Ginny, but looking at Harry the entire time. Before Ginny could answer, the other girl sat between her and Harry, her back slightly turned to the boy, but not enough to completely shut him from the conversation.

"Nia? What's wro-?"

"Imma 'bout to flippin' kill your boyfriend, Ginny, that's what's wrong! He's being the biggest punk e-ver, and if he don't stop, Imma finish Set's job for him!" Ginny glanced at Harry, whose face was set in a frown. Nia looked at him briefly, and Ginny noticed the younger girl's hand pat Harry's knee soothingly. Harry clutched the hand, and didn't let go of it as he went back to his work. He was much less tense now that Nia was there.

"Hey . . . while I don't like the wanker, either, isn't killing a bit too extreme?" Ron was met with four incredulous looks and the redhead snickered. "I tried . . ."

Ginny merely rolled her eyes.

"No matter how insincere that was, Ron does have a point, Nia. What's he done?" Hermione asked.

Nia groaned and rested her head in her propped-up hand and told them in hushed tones how Draco had "forbidden" Nia from seeing Harry (speaking vaguely, of course) until after the Leaving Feast since Harry didn't know how to 'keep it in his pants' and people were obviously picking up on something between them. But here was the kicker: Draco convinced Snape and Jamilah that was a good idea, so now Ginny had Harry as a partner instead of Draco, and while Draco was not pleased by that development, he knew he could pretty much see Ginny whenever he wanted.

Ginny set down her quill and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh really now; he said that, did he?"

"Bloody prat-I can't believe he'd do this to me! Does he forget I'm like, three years behind y'all? It's so unfair!"

Nia's ire gave way to sadness, and her voice wavered at the end. Ginny felt Harry's need to comfort the girl, but he couldn't and risk exposing Nia to the eyes and ears that no doubt exist at Hogwarts. After the Crabbe debacle and almost being exposed, they'd taken great pains to be more cautious with behavior. And while Ginny appreciated Draco's measure to keeping Nia safe, it was a bit extreme. There are ways to meet without being seen.

No one said anything, but there was a heavy air about the group. Ron and Hermione shot the couple sympathetic looks, not willing to say more to draw a response from either. Nia had her eyes closed, but her other hand was still being held by Harry. Harry's face had a frown, but Ginny figured it was less in anger and more in contemplation. He'd figure a way around this; he wasn't almost Sorted into Slytherin for nothing!

A quill scratching the parchment provided some sound to their immediate space, and Ginny watched Harry scribble furiously, highly attentive on the document than perhaps necessary. Nia's body was tense, and an almost pleading look was on her face as she stared at a far corner in the Hall. Ginny figured they were using the link to talk.

Harry was not letting her leave. A sudden wave of sympathy and tenderness washed over Ginny, and she realized just how nice she had it. Though she and Draco couldn't be together as often as she'd like, they could at least be open about it. It was killing Nia and Harry to keep it a secret, and the one time they decided to let loose, it almost cost important secrets and knowledge. If for no other reason, Set and Voldemort needed to fall so Harry and Nia be in the relationship they wanted.

Ginny caught the doors opening again out the corner of her eye, and her blonde-haired god walked in with his perennial sneer. It deepened when he looked at their table and he approached it, standing behind Ron and Hermione as he glared at Nia and Harry. "This is not the Slytherin table."

"Last time I checked, I could sit wherever I dang wanted to!" Nia said lowly.

Draco sighed and looked at the ceiling. "Nia, do not try my patience today. Come and sit with me."

She raised an eyebrow. "Or why don't you sit here with me? I'm already comfortable, thank you."

Draco glanced at Ginny before moving to Harry. His jaw was set and his eyes were narrowed; Ginny knew they were linked. Tense moments passed and Nia's eyes darted between the both of them. Suddenly Harry stood, the bench knocking over and making Ginny and Nia stumble to standing positions.

"What are they doing?" Ron asked, a look of alarm on his face. Nia climbed over the table and walked Draco to Slytherin's, his eyes never leaving Harry's.

"What was that all about?" Ron tried again, a small frown on his face. Ginny was highly annoyed, but what could she do? Harry was glaring at the Slytherin table where Nia and Draco were in a hushed, yet animated discussion. Ginny could see Nia's eyes flash and hoped the younger girl kept her temper in check. Draco was walking on thin ice.

"I hope she bloody blasts him into oblivion," Harry muttered darkly. Ginny sucked her teeth but did not respond. Nobody should blast anything, in her opinion, but if it must be done, it should be done in the privacy of training.

Just then, Nia stomped out of the Hall, and Draco's bravado drained away as he slumped on the table, a hand going through his mussed hair.

What the hell?

A few moments later Harry stalked out of the Hall as well, yet Draco made no move to stop him. The murmuring faded to the background as Ginny focused her mind on the link.

~Draco, what exactly is going on here?~

The blonde didn't move from his current position, and Ginny all but went to his side.

~I'm fucking afraid, okay?~

Ginny jerked back at the expletive, almost tearing her parchment in the process, her quill's feather swayed loosely against her hand, her fingers far too relaxed to hold it properly.

~What's happened?~

She felt him sigh, and it made her uneasy. A foot tapped her shin and she looked at Hermione. The brunette's eyes were filled with concern, and Ginny shook her head.

There was nothing she could say, because she didn't know. The not knowing was driving her nutters.

Draco still hadn't answered, and just as she was going to link with him again, he got up and left, his steps measured and heavy.

Ginny gritted her teeth and threw her head back. The sky was darker than before, and it became eerily still. Suddenly the stars' formation began to shift until there was a message formed across the sky-ceiling.

Death.

Ginny gasped and leapt from the table, ignoring Ron and Hermione's calls, and rushed into the main corridor to the dungeons.

"Draco!" she yelled, her voice echoing off the gray stones. Suddenly a hand grasped her upper arms and pulled her to the wall. A scream lodged in her throat when she realized who held her.

"Harry!" she whispered harshly. She smacked him hard in the shoulder; half-angry with him scaring her as he did, and half in relief it was only he.

"Something's happened."

"What's happened?"

Ron and Hermione approached them, slightly winded from chasing Ginny.

"What are you two doing here?"

"You can't just gasp and leave like that without telling us why!" Ron said with a small scowl.

"Something's going on and we want to know what," Hermione added.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Well . . . it's complicated . . ."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him and shifted them to the stones next to his head. They were actually jagged and not as smooth as their appearance suggested from a distance. Ginny felt herself in a similar situation; these declarations of "something" were far worse than the tone used to utter them.

"Well, are you bloody going to tell us what?"

He didn't reply, instead enveloping her in his arms and squeezing her. Ginny was becoming very scared and she didn't like the feeling. She returned Harry's hug and buried her face in his neck. From the message in the stars to Harry's cryptic pronouncement added on by the fact Draco and Nia were acting very strange, Ginny's nerves were on edge. What could possibly be wro-?

"Snape left last night for a Death Eater meeting . . . no one's heard from him since . . ."

Ginny froze, barely registering the gasp Hermione let out, then trembled violently. No no no no no no no! No! There was no way that message meant Professor Snape! No way! Nia would be devastated! But then again, it explained Draco's behavior in the Hall . . .

"Well, maybe the meeting went long . . ." Ginny whispered, her grip on Harry tightening. He was warm and alive and felt good in her arms, a sign of life amid the Death trying to creep into her space. First Sirius, then Draco, and now possibly Professor Snape. Ginny didn't think they could push their luck and make it three for three.

"I overheard Sirius and Jamilah talking about it this morning when I went to training early . . . Jamilah was very upset, kept mentioning something about a dream - have you had dreams recently?"

She hadn't, and she thought that meant things were okay; apparently, that thought was wrong and now Professor Snape could be dea-

She wasn't going to think like that, and she shook her head to stop the idea from taking strong root in her mind. Ginny separated from Harry and bit on her thumbnail. The candlelight created a shadow diagonally across his face, so only his right eye to his mouth was visible. He lifted a foot to the wall and crossed his arms, watching her watch him.

"It's a serious possibility-"

"No."

He sighed and looked at the ceiling. "Ginny . . ."

"How can you be so blasted calm about this? I know you don't like him, but for Merlin's sake, he's Nia's father! This would just devastate her!"

"Harry has a point, Gin. He's only one bloke among many - two of which are Dark Lords and ancient gods. Things don't look too well for Snape," Ron said sympathetically.

"Look, I don't want him to be dead any more than you do, but knowing how Voldemort and Set work, I'm not going to hold my breath he's alive. It's almost been twenty-four hours and no one's heard a word . . ."

A door down the hall slammed open and hurried footsteps came in their direction. It was a while before the person stepped out of the shadows, and when they saw it was Nia, Ginny gasped again.

"Get back here, Nia!" an annoyed masculine voice bellowed.

"You can go flippin' hang yourself! I'm goin' to get my father!"

Harry's lackadaisical posture tensed and he pushed himself from the wall, standing in the path of a very angry Nia with Draco at her heels.

"Where do you think you're going, love?"

Nia glared at him, not in the mood. "I think you bloody well heard me yellin' down the dang hall, now move it!"

Harry shook his head and grasped her shoulders. "You're not going anywhere but the Slytherin Common Room or Jamilah's room. You're not leaving this castle."

Nia was so appalled she gaped. "The hell I ain't! Ain't you the one who rushed to the Department of Mysteries when you thought Sirius was captured?"

Ginny really tried to keep the smirk off her face, but Harry's guilty look, aided with Draco's snort made that impossible.

"But Nia, that's completely different-"

Nia rounded on Hermione, eyebrows raised and arms crossed. "Oh really, then? Let's hear it."

Ginny loved Hermione like the sister she would soon become, but the poor dear really needed to learn when to keep her comments to herself. Hermione blushed and glanced at Harry for help, but he only shrugged. Ron rubbed Hermione's shoulders and frowned at the young spitfire.

"Sirius isn't a Death Eater, that's why! Snape knew what he was doing when he took the role as double agent!" Ron answered. Hermione closed her eyes and bit her lip at her fiancée's accusatory tone and Ginny shot him a warning look.

"If it weren't for his work, the lot of you wouldn't even be here right now!" Draco said lowly.

Ron stepped around Hermione and got in Draco's face. "And if it weren't for your lot, we wouldn't be in this state of war in the first place!"

"Enough!" Ginny snarled and shoved her way between them, her back against Draco and her glare pinned on Ron. "Would you stop it already?"

"Yes, especially since Nia's not here," Hermione sang nervously.

"Sneaky little bint!" Harry muttered and rushed to the main corridors.

"That's my girl," Draco whispered, dropping a kiss to Ginny's temple before following the black-haired boy. Ginny moved to follow but a hand stopped her.

"You're not going!" Ron said through gritted teeth. Ginny laughed at his audacity and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Is there something in the testosterone that makes men so daft?" she asked Hermione as she tugged her hand out his grasp.

"Apparently," Hermione sniffed. "We'll go to the library and see if we can't find something that could give Snape and Nia a leg up."

Ron opened his mouth to retort but Hermione kissed him, walking him backwards to the stairs for the library. Ginny took a deep breath and opened her link with Nia. After five tries, she finally got an answer.

~Come to the Room.~

The stairs were already aligned for her ascent and she reached the Room quickly. Ginny opened the door slowly and saw Nia in a heated discussion with the gods.

"I forbid it! You will not go, do you understand?!"

Aset and Nephthys rolled their eyes at Apedemak's impassioned command. Asar snorted. "That'll make her not go."

Nia had her arms crossed and she tapped her foot impatiently. "I didn't come for your permission, I came for your advice, for help!"

"And I'm advising you not to go! Think of poor Harry-"

"Poor Harry nuthin'! Apparently bossiness gets passed down through the years because he made the same charge. I ain't listen to him, so what makes you think Imma listen to you?"

The sound of the door shutting and sealing caused both girls to look at the now bare wall, which formerly held a door.

"No you didn't!" Nia gasped.

Apedemak smirked. "Yes I did. Now is not the time for you to meet Set and Voldemort. To do so would upset destiny and put the world's fate on a course which cannot be rectified-for the worse!"

Nia's bluster evaporated and her shoulders sagged. "But he's my father!"

This was Ginny's cue and she wrapped the younger girl in her arms. Nia buried her face in Ginny's neck and held her close, drawing from the comfort the redhead offered.

"Trust me when I say, love, everything happens for a reason, and things all work out in the end."

"I want my daddy!" Nia whined, not at all appeased by Asar's words. Ginny looked at Nephthys and pleaded silently. The goddess could only shrug and look upon Nia sympathetically. A couch materialized to their side and Ginny guided them to it. Nia was not crying, but she was sniffling an awful lot and held onto Ginny's waist tightly. Ginny pulled Nia away from her and pushed her toward her lap.

"Place your head here," she whispered, and Nia followed without protest. The Slytherin's hair was in two braided pigtails and Ginny's fingers ran over a plait in a comforting gesture, but for whose benefit she wasn't entirely sure. The pyramid continued to flash gold, scarlet, silver and green as it turned behind them and Ginny's eyes glanced the markings on the walls-pretty much the legend of Asar, Nephthys, Aset, and Apedemak.

It wasn't working - looking for something to distract her from the worry she felt for Snape and Nia . . . she remembered the fright she got her fourth year when her father was attacked; but at least she had a mother and six brothers as her support system. Sure Nia had Dumbledore and Jamilah, but both were way too involved with the Order and other matters to totally devote their time to support the girl resting in her lap. Snape was not a popular bloke by any stretch, and what Nia needed now was someone to lean on without judgment.

Harry should be here, the prat.

Ginny heard the door reform and two bodies rushed through it. Nia became rigid in her lap; she knew Harry was here without even seeing him. Ginny gave the boys a warning look. "Upset her and you'll have to deal with me."

Harry frowned and was about to answer when suddenly the pyramid began to rumble and shake. The four of them ducked behind the couch, cautious yet anxious to see what was happening. The sides of the pyramid opened and a slab of alabaster was raised.

"Shit," Draco muttered, both by the sight on the table and his unsuccessful attempt to stop Nia from climbing over the back of the couch. She sprinted to the pyramid and ran up a side to the slab.

"NO!"

It was her scream that unfroze them, and they raced to her side. Nia was gripping something and sobbing when they approached; Harry sucked in a hissing breath before dropping beside her, wrapping his arms around her and placing his chin atop her head. Draco stood very still, his hands in fists at his side and his mouth clamped shut. Ginny put her arms around his waist and her cheek at his chest.

On the slab was a body - broken, bruised, and bloodied with blackened, puffy eyes and spit lips. The robes were in tatters and ribbons and there were grass stains on the shins. A swollen, blistered hand clutched one frayed scarlet phoenix feather.

The body was Professor Snape.