Iuga Sortis III: The Beginning

Seventeen

It was far too bright for his liking, and he blinked his eyes rapidly to adjust them to the sudden light. It was a temperate place, with aromatic pleasures hitting his nose and wind rustling through the grass.

He clearly wasn't in England anymore.

He tried to sit up but firm pressure on his shoulders stopped him, accompanied by a soft, feminine "easy now" as his back hit something soft and rounded.

And it wasn't a pillow.

He turned his head to the left and saw a knee--a dark brown knee with a darkened, crescent like scar along the upper curve of it, and there was only one person in the world who could possibly have that scar.

But she's--

"Right here, love. I'm right here . . ."

He turned quickly, and was greeted with a stomach. The voice chuckled and he tilted his head upward where his eyes greeted golden ones.

And they didn't belong to Nia.

"Malika . . ."

She smiled brightly, then bent her head to place her lips on his. He immediately deepened the kiss; it had been five long years since he last kissed her.

"My love . . ." he murmured against her lips.

She kissed him harder before pulling away to clutch him to her. "Severus . . ."

His heart leapt at the sound of his name coming from her lips. He'd only had his Pensieve to hear it such, but hearing his name from the real Malika gave him unmatched joy.

Yet if he was here, with Malika, that could only mean--

"No . . ." he whispered, pulling back and shaking his head, scrambling out of Malika's lap and trembling.

Malika looked at him sadly and bit her lip, nodding. "Yes. You are."

He ran a hand through his hair. "But Nia--"

"Will be fine," Malika reassured him. "She will."

"I can't just leave her alone--"

"She's not alone, love. She has Mama and Caleb and Draco, Ginny--she has Harry . . ."

Severus scowled at that last name. "Harry Potter . . ."

"My, my, Severus, if I didn't know any better I'd say you didn't like my son . . ."

It was then Severus realized he was in the hottest circle of hell, and his scowl deepened. "James Potter . . ."

"James . . ."

Severus stopped glaring at the bespectacled man to regard his wife, a far more pleasant Potter than the former. "Lily."

The redhead embraced him warmly. "You're here far too soon," she whispered.

"Then how do I return?" Severus asked once Lily let go of him. Potter shook his head and Malika linked her fingers through his. "I certainly cannot stay here. My daughter needs me!"

"And Harry needed us, too! Yet here we remained. Few return to the land of the living, Snape. You may as well get comfortable here."

Severus glared at the other man. "Even in the afterlife you're still a pain in the ar--"

"Come with me, Severus," Malika said, looking sharply at Potter before walking Severus to a secluded spot in the garden paradise. Birds chirped, wind blew softly, and the weather was moderate, yet Snape was highly disgruntled.

"Is it true I shall not return?"

Malika looked at him and sighed, sinking to the ground. Severus towered over her for a moment before following suit, sitting with her between his legs. "Partly true," she murmured.

"Lovely."

Malika sucked her teeth and shook her head. "I missed you. It's impossible to miss you when you're alive, but now that you're here . . . I'm suddenly aware how much I missed you."

Severus threaded his fingers through hers and kissed her hair. "But I am here now, love, and apparently I won't be going anywhere . . ."

She snuggled into him, kissing the underside of his jaw. "You never did, love. You've been with me all along; I watched you in the reflecting pool. You were rather nasty to Sirius during the Shrieking Shack incident four years ago, babe . . ."

"I thought he was trying to kill Potter," he said blandly, tightening his arms around her.

"And now he's shagging Mama . . . to think . . . I thought he liked me," she pouted.

Severus looked at her sharply. "You sound far too disappointed, love."

She laughed. "Who wouldn't? He's oh so dreamy . . ."

"Too bad your daughter saved his life . . ."

His voice trailed and Malika grasped his hand, kissing the back of it and placing it over her heart. "All with your guidance. I wish you were her father . . ."

Severus felt his throat go tight and he cleared it. "Everything happens the way it should."

Malika snorted. "Not everything. If it did, Set wouldn't be terrorizing the world now."

Severus sighed. "So what does this mean, then? What does my death mean for . . . Nia and the others?"

"Well, I do know this--she can't bring you back; at least not yet."

Severus nodded. "I see. I don't think Little One will appreciate that bit of news."

"She won't; in fact I'm sure she'll try to do it. If she does then you'll never be resurrected."

"Well why can't she?"

"She's not ready."

Severus frowned. "Why?"

"Well for one, she's not old enough yet."

Severus rolled his eyes. "She's one of the most proficient witches I've ever seen. Just the things she's accomplished lead me to believe that's all rubbish."

Malika lifted her eyebrows and shrugged. "Caleb was a Ravenclaw . . ."

He scowled, kissing her knuckles. "You are the descendant of Aset . . ."

Malika smiled shyly. "You have a very valid point, honey, but the fact remains she really isn't old enough. Thing happen at a specific time and in a specific way. Once she is old enough she'll be able to set into motion events that will finally allow her to face Set."

Severus said nothing, wrapping his arms around Malika tightly. "Mind telling me what these events are?"

Malika shook her head, burrowing into him, and smirked. "I don't think you wanna know . . ."

~~~~~~

The Great Hall was strangely quiet this breakfast, especially the Slytherin table. The news Dumbledore just shared completely shocked everyone. Snape couldn't be--Draco couldn't even think it let alone say it.

He ran a shaky hand through his blond hair, then dropped it heavily on the table. He knew his hand should hurt, considering the loud crack that echoed through the large room, but Draco could feel nothing. His flat, silver eyes regarded everyone with cool detachment, almost hoping someone would jump up and start cheering that the surly Potions Master wouldn't darken the dungeons anymore. At least then he'd have an object upon which to unleash his fury. He could feel the magic flowing in him, begging for release on anything and everything.

Someone sniffled, and Draco was vaguely surprised to see it was Pansy shedding the tears. There was certainly very little love lost between the two, but now that Crabbe was at Durmstrang, she'd seemed to soften a bit . . . lose the edge that'd made her such an overbearing bint.

Draco's lip curled unconsciously. He'd just bet Crabbe got in his licks on Snape good; taking out his frustration of being caught playing for the Dark Lord.

Fucking Dark Lord, he thought, clutching his knife so forcefully it began to glow silver. He didn't notice until Goyle nudged his arm, giving him, then his knife a sharp look. He threw it on the table, causing it to clatter noisily and the sound to echo.

"Fuck him," Draco muttered. He grasped his head, frowning, confused, lost . . . what did this mean? What did this mean for him and Nia?

Where was Nia? . . .

She certainly wasn't to his right, where she usually sat every morning. She was nowhere to be seen. Draco's eyes drifted to the Gryffindor table, half-expecting to see grins and hands being slapped in celebration, yet they were just as sorry a lot as the rest of them. Ginny, his Ginger, was sobbing profusely, and Granger hugged her, tears drifting from her eyes as well. Weasel seemed more confused than anything else; as if Snape just gave him the world's hardest Potion to make and had no idea how to go about it.

Potter . . . was looking at him, then to the conspicuously empty space next to him. Draco arched an eyebrow and gave an imperceptible shake of his head.

~Have you seen her at all?~

Draco's ear twitched as Potter's voice filtered through his head. Draco gave Potter a mild glare, then shook his head. Knowing Jamilah, they probably gave Nia the news privately . . . or Nia just knew. Draco looked to the Head Table, and Jamilah was not there.

~You think--~

~I just tried to Link with Nia . . . she's not receiving me. I'm really worried, Draco.~

His eyes widened when Potter used his first name. If he had doubts before about Potter's intentions toward his "Little One", they were answered just then. Draco gave Potter another imperceptible nod and rose, keenly aware of them being the object of everyone else's attention.

~Draco--~

~We're going to find Nia, love.~ He told Ginny through the link, and was glad when Ginny decided to stay.

It wouldn't do well to alarm the other two of the Golden Trio, and Ginny's presence would quell their curiosity just enough.

"You don't think she'd--"

"Not without me," Draco replied, and the two continued to walk in silence.

She better not have gone without me, he thought to himself as they turned the corner. It was then he realized they were on the way to the training room; he'd made the trek there so many times during the last few months it became automatic. Draco hoped she was there--still there he should say. Among the cardinal rules of a Slytherin was to go into a fight with all of one's faculties. Passion could be a deadly hindrance to one's goals.

She is half-Gryff, he thought sardonically, but now was not the time for the fiery Gryffindoric zeal to flare. Nia had to have all her wits about her when they went to Set and Voldemort. Anything less could get her killed, and if she died, they may as well hand over the world to Set with a gold bow.

Just as Draco expected, they found her in the training room, beating the mess out of the punching bag--literally. The stuffing fell softly as snow to the blue mat, yet he didn't think she recognized that fact. She was going at it raw, too, her fists becoming red and bloody with each blow. Her face was hard, like stone, so different from how it usually was.

Draco sighed, and Potter frowned, running a hand through his unruly black hair. This was better than expected, but still not good. Nia would hurt herself if she kept going the way she was, and Draco thought her aggression would be put to better, happier use against Voldie and Set.

The sound of the punching bag crashing to the floor snapped him out of his thoughts, but it didn't seem to phase her one bit. Crimson drops fell on blue as she walked to the weapon wall, pulling out her favorite--the bo stick--and began twirling it expertly. A sheen of sweat glistened against her dark skin and one drop trailed from her neck to the valley of her breasts hidden from his view. Draco couldn't help but be impressed at her skill, no movement wasted and every one with a purpose.

And her purpose was clearly to destroy.

The mirror shattered as she rammed the stick into it, and apparently, Potter knew enough was enough. He pulled out his wand to fix it, but she merely destroyed it again, then knocked off the balance bar from the wall. Potter pocketed his wand, knowing it would take physical strength to stop her.

~I wouldn't do that if I were you.~ Draco intoned.

~She needs to stop!~

~She needs to grieve . . .~

Potter glared at him, and Draco threw up his arms in surrender. If Potter wanted to turn out like Nearly Headless Nick, then by all means . . .who was he to stop him?

"Nia--"

Potter narrowly missed the stick by ducking, and he kicked out a leg, sending her sprawling to the ground. Nia jumped back up, twirling the stick behind her back, then bringing it to connect with his side. Potter groaned and staggered, but gripped the weapon when it came at him again. She didn't release her grip, and stared him down. Her eyes were becoming gold and so was the stick, and he quickly let go of it. Draco snickered. At least Potter wasn't so stupid to try his luck when she began to glow.

Nia glanced down at it and threw it away from them, where it exploded in mid-air. Some bits of wood hit them in the face, but Nia seemed unaffected by it.

Both men watched her, breathing heavily while her hands clenched into fists. She was about to go for another weapon but Potter stepped in front of her, grasping her shoulders.

"Nia--"

"Go away, Harry." Her tone was flat and she looked over his shoulder to the destroyed wall.

"Nia, he's gone," he whispered, his hold on her tightening.

Stupid Potter.

She slid her eyes to his. "Fuck you, Harry."

Draco smirked. Nia was definitely better than he hoped she would be.

She tried to step around, but Potter grasped her waist, pulling her back against his front. "Being mad won't bring him back."

"I brought Draco back," she reminded him monotonously, glancing in his direction.

"Brilliant job that was, love," Draco drawled, trying to lighten the mood. He shrugged when two pairs of eyes rolled at him.

"Sirius came back. I know I can bring my father back . . ."

"How? He didn't die from magical causes. He died from injuries caused the Muggle way," Potter reminded her, and Draco knew that was not the wisest thing he could've done.

Nia spun around, her eyes flashing dangerously. "THERE HAS TO BE A WAY!" She was shaking violently and her fists began to pound his chest. "There has to be a way!"

Potter wrapped his arms around her, even as she hit him repeatedly. "He's gone . . ."

"NO!"

Draco felt tears sting his eyes and he blinked rapidly, seeing Potter press a kiss to her temple. "I'm so sorry, love."

"No."

"Nia--"

"Dumbledore's a liar, Harry," she said, her voice cold.

Admittedly, that was Draco's first thought, too, but when he saw no sparkle in the eccentric man's eye, Draco knew it was the truth.

"Stop it! Don't do this to yourself!" Potter said, growing angry.

"Don't you yell at her, Potter," Draco said lowly. "She's not deaf."

"But she's not listening to reason!" Potter defended.

Nia looked between them in a mixture of annoyance and anger. "Daddy wouldn't leave me alone, Harry! He promised!" Nia's voice was full of pain, and his heart ached. "He would've said good-bye if he did! He wouldn't just LEAVE ME HERE!"

Her fists hit Potter's shoulders, then slid down his body as she fell to the ground, her face buried in her lap. Her body shook with sobs, heart-wrenching sobs that scared Draco to death. There it was, Draco thought, the point where it hit her. He only hoped Nia wouldn't do something rash and get herself killed.

He'd be damned if that happened.

Potter kneeled before her, pulling her up gently and cupping her face in both of his hands. A tear fell down his cheek. "WE will figure this out, do you hear me, Nia? Don't you do something stupid--"

"What's so stupid about me wanting to kill Set and Voldemort? I want them to pay!" she snarled.

"And I want you to live! I love you, Nia Roberts, and I'll be damned if you end up like Snape," he whispered, shaking her a bit.

"You think so little of me--"

"I think the world of you, which is why when you go after them, you'll take me with you. They killed my parents, too," Potter whispered, wiping her tears with his thumbs.

She stared at him, then nodded. "I will."

Potter breathed a sigh of relief before kissing her gently, then held her as she mourned the loss of her father.

Draco watched them for a moment before backing out of the room silently. At least the bloke finally told her his feelings. It would make what he and Nia had to do easier.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway and he turned to see Ginny approaching him. Tears glistened from her flushed cheeks and her bottom lip was swollen from her biting it. Draco regarded her with a blank expression, and Ginny let out a shuddering breath before rushing into his arms. Automatically they went around her, and he buried his face in her red hair.

"I'm so sorry, Draco . . . so sorry . . ."

He held her tighter in response, taking long, calming breaths as he was determined not to cry. She put her cheek on his chest, rubbing the small of his back with her fingers. The gesture soothed him considerably, and soon his breathing returned to normal.

"He didn't deserve to die," Ginny whispered after a few moments.

"No, he didn't. But he won't die in vain."

Ginny squeezed his waist. "Don't do anything stupid. You died once already. That's all I think I can take!"

He dropped a kiss to her head. "The only people who'll die now are Set and Voldemort. They played their hand; now it's time we played ours."

Ginny shook her head. "I don't want you killed--"

"And I won't be, love. You've just got to trust me."

She pulled back, her brown eyes full of tears even though she had a grin on her face. "I trust you . . . it's those damn Death Eaters I wouldn't trust with my raggedy robes let alone you!"

Draco looked up with a quick lift of his eyebrows. "Nice to know you equate me with your hand-me-downs, love."

Ginny sniffled again and laughed, arching her eyebrow. "Wanna know what else I equate you with?"

Draco grinned and nuzzled her nose with his. "As long as you say, 'the love of my life', I think I can oblige you."

She nodded and kissed his lips lightly. "That's funny . . . I didn't feel you enter my mind but you totally read it . . ."

Draco was glad Ginny was here--in his arms and completely safe. He needed her to stay safe; the amount of people he completely loved and cared for could fit easily on one hand, and now one of them was dead. That was one too many according to Draco, and Voldie and Set would rue the day they hacked him off.

Potter came out of the training room with Nia's hand intertwined with his. Nia looked at Draco sadly, then closed her eyes, beginning to cry again. Ginny let him go and he went to Nia, just holding her as she cried. Potter put his arms around Ginny's shoulder as she pressed her face into his chest, crying as well. A look passed between the two boys; a look of vengeance and understanding.

Voldemort and Set would definitely pay.

"I want to go to the Room," Nia murmured after a few minutes, pulling away from Draco and he wiped her cheeks. "I need some advice on how to handle the . . . situation . . ."

Potter nodded. "I think that's a good idea. They were certainly helpful when--" Ginny whimpered and Draco's heart clenched. There was no need to revisit that time in history.

The four of them went up the stairs, and the landing was thankfully present for them. Once they entered, the gods looked upon them with sadness in their eyes; but Apedemak looked more angry than mad.

"If I could, I'd kill that bastard with my bare hands," the lion-headed god muttered once the door shut firmly behind them and disappeared.

"Then why in heaven's name are you in battle mode, then?" Asar asked with a long-suffering sigh. "You are nothing more than paint and wall!"

Draco snickered and he shrugged at Potter's glare. "My guy has a point, you know."

Apedemak peered at Draco then tilted his head toward Potter. "You'll settle the score for me, won't you, dear boy?"

Potter glanced at Nia, who was staring blankly at a spot on the floor. "If I have to die doing it, sir."

"The hell you will!" Nia snapped, pinning sharp eyes on Potter. "No more deaths, do you hear me! No more!"

"Nia--" Aset began, but her reincarnate cut her off with a loud groan.

"This ends right now!" Nia vowed, pulling away from Draco and marching up to the mural. "How many more millennia, huh? How many more people before one of us gets it right? It's been FAR too long! They've had theirs coming far too long! It ends now! This year! No more mistakes or missteps!"

Aset shook her head slowly. "But it won't--at least not totally."

Draco watched Nia's shoulders slump and the wind leave her sails. This whole reincarnate thing had made him soft, he reasoned, for he felt remorseful and helpless despite all his Slytherin cunning. "Then why the hell do we bother, then?" Draco snapped, not liking that helpless feeling. He grew level to Nia, glaring at the four painted figures. "All this talk about how we can do it, and you're telling us we can't?! Why do we do this then?"

Nebt-het gave them a sympathetic glance. "You're not ready--not completely anyway."

Nia's hands began to glow and the gods eyed her warily. The younger girl took a series of deep breaths before regarding them with a sarcastic smile. "Why am I not ready, then? Why did I go through all this training with Draco for all these months if I ain't ready?!"

"You're simply not old enough, love."

Nia was ready to retort but Draco covered her mouth.

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, coming next to Draco. Potter stood on the other side of Nia and they waited for the answer.

"She's not of age yet. That's part of the reason you've been kept out of the battles, Nia," Aset said patiently. Nia's tense posture relaxed some, but she frowned in confusion.

"But I thought--"

"Believe me, if you were old enough now, you could whip those two blokes good," Apedemak said with pride, winking at Aset. "But while you are a formidable witch, you are not yet old enough to completely vanquish Set permanently. Similar to why Voldemort didn't completely die when Harry was a baby."

"And now it's harder to kill him," Nebt-het added. "It'll take a lot of power, Harry, to totally annihilate Voldemort."

"Power I've got; it's the time that's running out . . ." Potter murmured with a glance toward Nia and Draco.

"So what are Ginny and I supposed to do then? Cheer Nia and Potter on? We're reincarnates, too!"

Apedemak rolled his eyes. "Are all your reincarnates this self-absorbed, Asar?"

"Shove off!" the other god replied.

Aset and Nebt-het sighed and shook their heads. "Another reason why Set and Thanatos are running around like they are! You two are so childish it's unbelievable!"

The two gods looked down, properly chastised for their behavior. Potter and Draco shared an amused glance, considering they'd had their own share of chastising from Ginny and Nia.

"How old does she have to be, then, before she can fight them?" Ginny asked, getting the conversation back on track.

There was silence, and it made Draco uneasy. Nia lifted her eyes to the ceiling and Potter took her hand and squeezed.

"Honestly, we do not know," Aset said finally. The four teenagers gave incredulous sighs and Aset talked quickly to explain. "It's different for every reincarnate, I mean; but we do know that no one has ever been able to face Set or Thanatos under fifteen years of age."

"My birthday is next week. I'll be fifteen then," Nia said flatly.

Asar shrugged. "Aset was almost thirty before she was ready to fight Set; even then there were circumstances that allowed him to get away. That is one secret we cannot answer for you, because we don't know. The One has yet to reveal that to us, and I'm quite sure he won't reveal it to you, either."

Draco rolled his eyes, annoyed. "This is just great! We're pretty much sitting ducks, then!"

"We cannot wait until Nia's thirty, either! We may not live that long!" Potter exclaimed.

"Well sorry I wasn't born fifteen years earlier!"

Potter grinned and kissed Nia's temple. "Not that it would've mattered if you were; I'd still love you anyway . . ."

Draco thought he'd be sick, and Ginny pinched him, giving him a glare that clearly told him to behave. He swallowed a snicker when he saw Asar had the same reaction he did.

Great minds truly did think alike.

"Well then, how will I know? How do I know I'm finally ready to face them?" Nia asked.

Aset sighed, then shrugged. "You'll just know."

Ginny frowned. "There has to be more to it than that!"

Draco thought the same, and by the surreptitious glances the gods were giving each other, they knew there was more than they divulged.

Nebt-het looked at them a bit helplessly. "That's all we can tell you at the moment, dears. Some of these things you'll have to discover for yourselves." She was looking pointedly at Potter and Nia, and Draco arched an eyebrow, his mind turning over the words.

"But what--" Ginny began, fruitlessly. The mural had gone still; obviously done with saying whatever information they were allowed to give. The quartet walked back to the stairs, seeming more lost than found after the very odd meeting.

"Should we go to Dumbledore with this information?" Potter said before they reached the stairs.

"If the gods could tell us only that, what else could Dumbledore say? He's not a god!" Ginny reminded them.

"He is a reincarnate, though. Maybe he does know . . . he's not under The One's influence, you think?" Potter pointed out.

Nia and Draco remained quiet throughout the discussion. The only thing Draco could suspect to making Nia ready was some sort of ritual; but what kind? Would Nia have to do some sort of Conception Ritual like her mother did, or Ginny almost did? Virgins contained very powerful magic; perhaps Nia would have to lose her virginity in order to gain her full powers . . .

Draco shuddered. No wonder the gods didn't want to go into detail about that! Nia was certainly too young to engage in that kind of activity--with Potter no less! Draco clenched his fists, thinking how close the two came on their first date . . . that definitely would've been too soon for the cause; if only because Nia wasn't fully mature enough yet.

Draco regarded the two as they made their way downstairs. Potter was so close to her it was amazing they could walk downstairs without tripping over each other. There was nothing sexual about the contact, however; more like Potter reassuring Nia he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon; that he could be dependable and her shoulder to cry on should she need it.

Draco's lip curled at the thought.

"After all that's happened, all that we've learned, you still have the gall to sneer at them," Ginny said through the side of her mouth, slipping her arm through his.

Draco continued to glare at the couple even as he dropped a kiss to Ginny's temple. "I know why Nia's not ready yet, or won't be for a while."

Ginny's eyes widened. "Really? Pray tell."

The words left an unpleasant taste, and he all but spat them out. "She's a virgin . . ."

Ginny blinked, then covered her mouth, but not before a few giggles slipped through it. "Oh my! You mean she and Harry--"

"He will not touch her," Draco snarled, his lip curling even more.

Ginny gave him a sharp look and slapped his arm, casting a glance at the other couple as they went further into the dungeons. "You can't say that! If it means Set's final destruction, why aren't you all for it? It'll bring Snape back, apparently . . ."

"But they have to--" Draco began, then shuddered. He didn't want to think of that git touching Nia.

Ginny smirked. "You're so like Ron it's not even funny."

Draco stopped walking and gave her an icy stare. "Don't ever liken me to that Weasel."

Ginny shrugged and grinned, still walking. "Well you are. I'd imagine Snape would be just like my father if--" She frowned, then her lip began to tremble. "If he were alive . . ."

That put things in perspective for Draco, and he nodded, swallowing down the lump in his throat. "We'll get him back. We have to. Nia needs him."

"You need him, too," Ginny murmured as she went to him, linking her fingers through his.

"I'm of age," Draco muttered.

"Doesn't mean you don't need him. Bill and Charlie still need my Dad and they're certainly of age. Snape is your family, just as much as Nia is."

Draco said nothing, kissing Ginny's temple as they turned the corner. Potter and Nia turned into the Potions classroom, and his steps grew heavy. He didn't know if he was quite ready to go in yet, his emotions raw despite his snarky front.

"You'll have to face it sometime," Ginny said kindly, her own voice hoarse.

He stopped walking, a few paces from the door. "But it's too bloody soon. We just got the news!"

Ginny kissed his knuckles, leaning against the wall behind them. "I know, love . . . I know . . ."

He swallowed thickly, glancing at Ginny then the door. "I--this . . . Nia's in there," he settled on finally.

Ginny nodded. "And she needs you."

Draco took a deep breath, and with his hand firmly ensconced in Ginny's, went into the classroom. Dumbledore was there, standing at Snape's desk without the familiar twinkle in his eye. Jamilah was there as well, the door to Sirius's room opened.

"Harry and Nia are already in there," Jamilah said flatly.

"We should meet there so we may discuss . . ." Dumbledore trailed off, closing his eyes for a moment before clearing his throat to continue. "What needs to be discussed."

Draco gave a short nod, then went into Sirius's room. He saw Jamilah sitting on the couch, one hand in Sirius's, the other holding a tissue to her weeping eyes. Sirius was staring at the coffee table, his jaw set firm and eyes dead. Though there was no love lost between the two men, Draco knew Sirius was just as affected by Snape's death as everyone else in the room. Nia was in a straight-back chair; Potter stood behind it, grasping the posts of her chair. He was also staring at the coffee table, his green eyes a bit bright considering the darkness of the room and in the air in general.

Ginny pulled Draco down to share the loveseat with her, and Dumbledore sat in the easy chair at the "head" of the coffee table. The wizened wizard looked at each occupant in the room with grave eyes, before steepling his hand and placing them under his chair.

"Well . . ." he began, the word a sigh full of consternation, sadness, and resolve. "It seems we're in a bit of a . . . situation . . ." Draco glared at Dumbledore, bristling at the choice of words. Ginny rubbed his hand to calm him. "And by situation," Dumbledore continued, with a brief glance in Draco's direction, "I mean that of retaliation. Severus's death will not go unpunished, nor will the many other deaths caused by Voldemort and his followers, but this particular death hits a little too close to home for some very important people in the battle."

Dumbledore regarded Draco and Nia gravely. "Do not do anything rash."

Nia sucked her teeth and slumped in her chair. "We already got this lecture."

Dumbledore grinned slightly at the young Slytherin. "And it is so important, I deign you to hear it again."

"You cannot go after Voldemort or Set--particularly not now," Jamilah said with a pointed look to her granddaughter.

"And why not?"

"Because they're expecting you to, and they are far more ready and have less to lose and all to gain," Dumbledore said patiently.

Nia glared at the adults. "And just what do I have left to lose, huh? Everyone's dyin' around me and it's all my fault! Maybe I should give myself up and everyone won't have to deal with this crap anymore!"

Potter put his hands on Nia's shoulders and squeezed. She embraced the gesture, eyes closing and a soft, frustrated sigh escaping her.

Dumbledore's eyes flitted to Jamilah before looking at Draco. "She's not ready, Draco. You know this."

He frowned but nodded. "I know. But she's right; we have to do something--anything to rock their foundation a bit. Right now, they think they have nothing to lose. There has to be something!"

Dumbledore sighed, looking from Sirius to Potter. "There is something."

Potter stood straighter, looking at none but Dumbledore. "I have to fulfill the prophecy, don't I?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Before the end of term, or the adversary you face may grow far beyond any of your capabilities. Severus's death strengthened them far more than I imagined--not in terms of magic, but in terms of resolve, of confidence. A spirit strengthened does much for ability."

"Which is why, as hard as it may be, you four especially need to find the positive, the silver linin' in all this, or else the lack of spirit will lead us all to trouble," Jamilah predicted. Sirius squeezed her hand in support.

Draco snorted. "Why don't you pick someone from the other three houses. We all know Snape's death isn't really bringing tears of sadness to the other houses . . ."

He felt Potter's glare and heard Ginny's indignant gasp, but ignored them. Draco remembered hearing his schoolmates wish a slow, painful death to the Potions Master many times in the past. Well, they got their wish, didn't they?

"I don't think that's entirely justified, Draco," Dumbledore said quietly.

"He has a point, you know," Nia said, her voice hard as steel. "No one liked my father; the people in Slytherin barely tolerated him!"

"But it's unfair--" Potter began.

Nia jumped out her chair and whirled to face him. "Is it? Tell me something, Harry: are you really upset he's gone? Hell! You and Weasley were the founders of the 'I-Hate-Snape' club!"

"Actually . . ." Sirius began hesitantly.

Nia sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes at Potter's godfather. "Don't even get me started on you . . ."

"Nia! I know you're hurtin', but you ain't grown yet!" Jamilah snapped.

Nia raised her eyebrows in sarcastic revelation. "And that's precisely the problem, ain't it? 'I ain't grown!' Why the hell is all this happening now when I can't do a damn thing about it?"

Jamilah's eyes furrowed, no doubt at her granddaughter's dirty mouth, but did not chastise. That was a very fair, valid question in Draco's mind. If they were supposed to be the four reincarnates, why not four who could actually do something about it while the battle ensued?

Dumbledore placed his hands in his lap. "I need to talk to Nia and Draco alone."

Their reluctance to leave was apparent by the slow pace they took following Dumbledore's orders. Neither Nia nor Draco looked at the others as they left, Draco finding his nails far more fascinating than they should be.

When the door clicked shut, silence reigned in the room before Dumbledore's soft voice took over.

"Do not do anything rash."

Nia snickered and Draco smirked. "I thought you said that already."

Dumbledore smiled a bit. "But you've been planning something ever since Severus was hurt."

Draco shrugged, not bothering to deny it. The headmaster knew everything anyway.

"But we have to do something, Grandpa Albus," Nia said with frustration. "We can't just sit here and let them get away with it!"

Dumbledore nodded, regarding both of them with a curious expression. "What was it you've been planning?"

The two teens gave each other quick glances before Draco cleared his throat. "Invisibility . . . without the aid of a cloak."

"And flying without a broom," Nia added.

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. "And have either of you been successful yet?"

The two looked a bit dejected. "Not yet," Draco admitted. "But we're close to figuring out the Invisibility Spell."

"Have you tried potions?" Dumbledore asked.

Nia sniffed and Draco gave her a sympathetic look. "Potions aren't what we want. It has to be something we can command at will at anytime, any place."

"Without the use of wands, too, I imagine," Dumbledore added.

"We'd been going to the gods for advice, and they've given us some. But I don't think they'll continue to help us since they know I want to go fight," Nia muttered.

"But you can't, love. You're not ready," Dumbledore reminded her.

Nia left her seat and began pacing around the room. "Sometimes you have to force Fate's hand, and I intend to do that! I ain't gonna just sit on my bum and wait for myself to get older! I know I can be of use, and if we ever figure out the Invisibility problem, I can do that without being seen."

Dumbledore stood as well, and went to Nia, grasping her shoulders gently. "I still discourage the thought. Your intentions are good, Little One, but you belittle your importance to the cause. What is the point of winning one battle if we lose the war at the end?"

Draco stood and walked to Nia, rubbing her back in comfort. "With all due respect, Headmaster, we've thought this through, and it is a chance we're willing to take."

"Dra--"

"Losing is not an option--certainly not a Slytherin's option," Draco interrupted. "We will not get caught."

Dumbledore put his arms behind his back, staring intently at his two students. "Set is no paltry opponent. He's survived millennia because he's such a powerful god. You not being ready, my dear, puts you at a distinct disadvantage."

Nia smirked. "This is why I'll be invisible, Grandpa Albus. He can't destroy what he can't see . . ."

Dumbledore remained unconvinced. "And what makes you think you will succeed in this . . . plan?"

Draco smirked, raising a pale, thin eyebrow. "Simply because failure is not an option, and revenge is most definitely sweet. It takes a Slytherin to beat a Slytherin."

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "Pettigrew was a Gryffindor."

Draco winced. He'd forgotten, but Nia laughed; clearly she hadn't.

"I'm half Gryffindor and half Ravenclaw, and I'm in Slytherin, yet Hufflepuff in my loyalty. Pettigrew is mine."

Dumbledore nodded, the same disturbingly kind smile on his face. "How convenient. Set thinks you are his, too."