The Legend of Chime

Chapter twenty

She could hear the crowd of people gathering downstairs in the foyer as Olivia finished arranging her hair. Elizabeth stared at her reflection numbly, not caring that she probably had never looked more beautiful in her life. Her evening robes were made of pale blue silk and edged in gold, inlaid with blue jewels. Low on her waist, she wore a matching gold belt. The robe was made to fit her body perfectly and she resented the fact that it was so snug. It only reminded her of its original purpose. To entice the male guests into offering for her. She felt sickened with the knowledge and she looked away from the image in the mirror.

I can’t do this . . . but I have no choice . . . if I want to escape.

The door to her room opened and her grandmother strode gracefully in wearing elegant robes of midnight blue. “Don’t look so melancholy, my child. You have everything a woman could possibly want in life,” she said briskly. “A handsome fiancee and more wealth than you could possibly spend in a lifetime. Olivia, see that the guests are made comfortable.”

“Yes, Lady Isabella,” Olivia said as she curtsied then hurried from the room.

Elizabeth bit back a harsh retort. I have to convince her. She plastered on a demure smile as she slowly rose from her vanity. “You’re right, grandmother. I apologise for my words this morning. I can only say it came as quite a shock, since you had chosen to keep the truth from me for so long.” She swallowed before continuing. “But my home is here . . . and Draco thoroughly convinced me it was the right thing to do.”

Her grandmother lifted her eyebrows. “I’m certain he did, my child.” Elizabeth inwardly cringed at her grandmother’s subtle insinuation, but her smile never wavered as her grandmother continued to study her closely for a moment. “But like I’ve hinted at before, I would prefer that the next heir arrive after the wedding, Elizabeth. Not before.”

Steady . . . Elizabeth silently gritted her teeth. “I will do my best to resist Draco’s obvious charm, grandmother.”

Her grandmother still eyed her suspiciously. “And have you given up on your fascination with the famous Harry Potter?” she asked smoothly.

Elizabeth forced herself not to hesitate. “I’ll admit. I still fancy Harry, grandmother. His bravery is well noted in history books, after all. But Draco has also been able to turn my head,” she lied. “And since you have made it quite clear Draco is who you prefer, it seems I have no choice, but to comply.” She paused. “Though I still don’t like being forced to choose,” she said, lifting her chin, trying to make it appear as if she was hiding a pout. She prayed her acting skills were up to par.

“I repeat, Elizabeth. Harry Potter is a half-blood and therefore, unacceptable. Had you been raised properly, you would not have allowed his fame to tempt you,” her grandmother coldly corrected. Elizabeth let out an inward sigh of relief. Her grandmother was buying it with, surprisingly, very little effort. Just as Malfoy said she would.

There was a quick knock at the door and Malfoy entered looking extremely handsome in his evening robes and dinner jacket.

“Here is your fiancee, Elizabeth. He will escort you down in a few minutes. If you will excuse me, I must attend to our guests,” said her grandmother and Elizabeth watched her stroll from the room with a slight curve to her lips.

Elizabeth let out a deep breath as she walked over to her window to look out. Several golden carriages lined the cobbled drive and were slowly pulling to a halt in front of the veranda. Guests could be seen in all their expensive finery, slowly making their way inside.

“There has been another attack.”

Elizabeth jumped at his sudden voice, surprised that Malfoy was so close behind her. She turned around and took a step back then looked up at him with a furrowed brow. “Where?” she asked hesitantly, slightly afraid to hear the answer.

“At the Ministry.”

“Has anyone been hurt?”

“The battle is still going on.”

She let out a growl of frustration and turned toward the window. “And we are here, entertaining, pretending there is no war, and worrying about who is to marry who,” Elizabeth said in a tone of disgust. “This is completely insane.”

“I agree,” said Malfoy quietly. He placed his hand on her shoulder to turn her back around and stared into her eyes. He looked for a moment like he wanted to say something more on the subject, but then smiled and said, “But I believe your grandmother is expecting us to put in an appearance downstairs before dinner is served.” He held out his arm toward her.

Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly as she took a steadying breath then placed her hand on Malfoy’s arm and allowed him to lead her downstairs. She tried not to think too much about what she was doing. She knew she wouldn’t be as convincing if she did. She forced herself to become slightly detached from what was going on around her as they slowly made their way down the grand staircase. She was only vaguely aware of the whispers and covert stares from the guests that surrounded her. But she still absently gripped Malfoy’s arm a little tighter as several people approached and introduced themselves.

“Good evening, Mistress Fairchild, Master Malfoy” said a short, balding man whom she remembered her grandmother had introduced as Percival Truitt, the day before. “Allow me to introduce my wife, Anita.”

Elizabeth inclined her head to the rather tall, thin woman. “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Truitt.” The woman looked as though Elizabeth had given her a rare gift as she shook her hand, her smile was so wide.

“And my son,” continued Mr. Truitt, puffing out his chest, “Charles.”

Elizabeth turned to find a huge bulk of a man who did not seem to belong to either of his parents. He was easily well over six and a half foot tall with wavy brown hair and kind eyes. He gave a half-bow as he leaned over her hand. She smiled as she inclined her head and murmured a greeting.

Another man nudged his way forward. “Mistress Fairchild, I hope it’s not too bold of me to mention how stunning you look tonight.”

“Thank you, Mr. Giles,” said Elizabeth graciously, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Let me guess you also have a son . . .

“May I introduce my son . . .”

And so the evening went. Every few feet, she was introduced to another proud father and mother fawning over her then quickly displaying their son for her perusal. She would have been flattered in any other situation, even found it quite comical. But tonight, she discovered it was very annoying. She felt like the prize in a testosterone-filled competition and each introduction was grating on her nerves.

Malfoy was fairing much better. He seemed to be in his prime environment. The ladies openly admired his handsome appearance and a few even had the courage to introduce their daughters, who were either rendered speechless by his charm or blushed and smiled at him coyly.

Finally, the tinkling of a bell could be heard over the noise of the guests and Olivia appeared at the top of the grand staircase. The foyer immediately fell silent. “Ladies and gentlemen. Please follow me to the Banquet hall where dinner will be served shortly.”

The crowd parted to allow her grandmother to lead the way. Malfoy instinctively escorted Elizabeth up the staircase behind her grandmother and the rest of the guests followed suit. As they entered the Banquet hall, Elizabeth was secretly impressed with the obvious extravagance. Her grandmother clearly sought to dazzle her guests. The Hall was immaculately decorated to resemble a Grecian Palace. There were three long, marble tables to one side of the hall and an open area at the other, for after dinner dancing. The place settings were made of pure gold with matching goblets and reminded Elizabeth of the plates used at Hogwarts for the start of term feast.

They took a seat at the head table and patiently waited for all of the guests to find their places. Within minutes, everyone was seated and dinner was served. Elizabeth barely noticed what she was eating as she took several tentative bites, a subtle throbbing had emerged behind her eyes and it completely vanished any trace of an appetite. She took several small sips of her wine and absently pushed her food around her plate.

“. . . with the attack on the ministry.”

Elizabeth’s head jerked up. “I’m sorry, Mr. Giles. But did you mention the attack on the ministry?” she asked the man who was sitting across from her.

Mr. Giles seemed delighted that Elizabeth had taken a sudden interest and was happy to fill her in on what she had missed. “I was just saying to my son, Roderick, that Lady Isabella is someone to admire. She hasn’t allowed anything to interfere with her business dealings. Or her social commitments, with the one exception of postponing this party until you were well, Mistress Fairchild, of course. Though, it doesn’t surprise me that none of the representatives from the ministry are here tonight. With the attack on the ministry and whatnot.” He gave a small laugh. “Can’t have Giants and Death Eaters running around destroying everything now, can we?”

Elizabeth was shocked that the battle at the ministry was of little concern to Mr. Giles. “No, we can’t,” she ventured absently, “I just hope that they aren’t successful in overtaking the ministry, Mr. Giles. That would put the wizarding world in a very precarious situation indeed, would it not?”

“Maybe for the muggle-born and half-bloods, Mistress Fairchild.” Mr. Giles gave her a patronising smile. “But for purebloods, it will make very little difference.”

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but before she could deliver a nasty retort, Malfoy interrupted her. “Pardon me, Elizabeth. Would you care to dance?” He pushed back his chair and stood. His eyes flicked momentarily to her grandmother who was listening intently to her conversation. She blushed slightly at her near mistake and readily took his hand, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. She was surprised to find she was a little lightheaded and increased her grip on his arm as she concentrated on where to place her feet. She was puzzled that so little wine would effect her so, but said nothing of her condition as she turned to face him and they started to dance. They circled the dance floor several times before Malfoy suddenly pulled her closer and whispered in her ear, “Relax, Elizabeth. Relax.”

She attempted to do as Malfoy suggested, but the throbbing in her head gradually increased with every turn and Elizabeth eventually faltered in her steps. The air in the room suddenly felt thick and hot almost as if it was suffocating her. “I-I need some fresh air,” she said weakly as she swallowed an abrupt wave of nausea. Her eyes scanned the room over Malfoy’s shoulder. She saw the nearby door that led to the outside balcony. She stepped away from Malfoy and headed toward it through the throng of dancing couples.

Elizabeth pushed open the door and gasped in the cold air, allowing it to fill her lungs. She ignored the sudden shiver that ran through her body from the frosty wind. The nausea dissipated after a few moments, but was then replaced by an unnatural drowsiness and her head still pulsated with every beat of her heart. Something wasn’t right. She closed her eyes as she grasped the railing of the balcony. Her heart was racing in her chest as if she had run a long distance.

“Your grandmother’s right. You are a very beautiful woman with a very strong will.”

Elizabeth turned to find Malfoy walking slowly toward her. She shook her head slightly and winced at the pain. It was becoming difficult to focus. The balcony was dark and Malfoy’s face was half-shadow in the faint light of the clouded moon. They were alone.

“But you have one true weakness . . . one Achilles heel . . . you feel too deeply the hurt of others,” he said softly, coming to stand next to her. He lifted his hand and caressed her cheek. “And it causes you to sympathise with them too easily . . . and trust those who should not be trusted.” His expression was unreadable. She felt a sudden heaviness wash over her body as she tried to understand what Malfoy was saying and it suddenly became a struggle to remain standing. Her knees buckled and she realised she was sinking to the stone floor.

“Very eloquently spoken, young Malfoy.”

She could barely keep her eyes open and her breath was coming in gasps now, but she turned her head in the direction of the familiar deep voice. She saw nothing, but two shimmery shadows. She fought the crowding blackness as she gazed down at the ring on her hand. Two blood red diamonds glittered in the moonlight. And as if from a far off distance, echos of frightened screams came from inside the house to reach her ears.

Betrayed.

Steel grey eyes met sapphire blue. She tried to speak the words that resonated in her head. “Dissi-Dissilio Ve-Venefic-cium . . .” Then she was engulfed by the descending darkness.

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“Are you all right, Harry?” came Mrs. Weasley’s worried voice.

Harry stumbled to his feet. “No,” he said, his voice raw. “I have to go to Elizabeth. Voldemort is waiting for her . . . somewhere in a forest.” Harry let out another hiss as his scar seared to life once more. “They’ve got her.”

Hermione’s face was white. “B-But how?”

“I dunno how,” said Harry, his voice shaky as he started for the door, “I only know what I saw.”

Mrs. Weasley stepped in front of him with an anxious expression, but a determined set to her chin. “Harry, I can’t let you leave. That’s what Voldemort wants. You need to wait . . .”

“Wait for what?” Harry shouted. “For members of the Order to show up? They’re already involved in the battle at the ministry! By the time they get back, Elizabeth will be dead!”

“Then let’s go get her,” said Ron, walking up to stand next to Harry.

“I’m in,” said Ginny quickly.

Mrs. Weasely’s face flushed. “None one of you are going anywhere!”

Harry opened his mouth to shout once more, but Hermione piped up quietly. “Harry? What if Voldemort is just using you again? To get to Elizabeth this time? What if he meant for you to see what you did? It could be a trap.”

Harry lost some of his venom, but none of his resolve as he glanced down at Hermione. “Then that’s a risk I have to take. I can’t stay here and do nothing. Elizabeth needs me.” He turned back to Mrs. Weasley. “You’re going to have to stun me, Mrs. Weasley. That’s the only way you’re going to stop me.” He started to open the door.

“Wait in minute, Harry,” Mrs. Weasley pleaded. “You don’t even know where you’re going.”

“Yes, I do,” said Harry, striding out into the hall. “Fairchild Manor. I can apparate there and get through the security wards as a falcon.”

“Then I’m going as well,” said Hermione firmly, following him and Ron. “I can transform. Ron can’t yet. He won’t be able to get past the front gate. You heard Professor Lupin.”

Ron gave her a scowl. “I’m still going, Hermione.”

“If he’s going then so am I!” spouted Ginny.

“No!” shouted the three and Mrs. Weasley in unison.

Hermione turned to Ron. “Well, at least go and get Harry’s invisibility cloak. We might be able to find a way to shut down the wards so that you can enter later. Harry and I will go ahead . . .”

“You’re not going anywhere without me, Hermione!” said Ron furiously.

“And I’m not waiting around for you two to figure it out,” Harry said, opening the front door and slamming it shut. The noise from the hall was cut off instantly. He ran down the stone steps in front of number twelve, which vanished the moment his feet touched the pavement. He swung his head from side to side, making sure no one was watching then pulled out his wand. He shut his eyes and concentrated on the location of Fairchild Manor. A second later, his body felt as if it was being sucked through a straw then he heard a loud “Pop!” and immediately opened his eyes.

A great iron gate stood open before him and the large manor house was visible in the distance. Harry made certain he remained in the shadows as he glanced around looking for Mr. Diggle who was suppose to be standing guard. The light from the floating lanterns that lined the cobbled drive showed no evidence of human presence and Harry’s senses prickled with alertness. It was eerily quiet except from the faint rustle of the wind against leaves.

“Pop!” “Pop!”

Harry swung around in an instant, readying himself for attack, but allowed a small sigh of relief as Hermione apparated behind him. “You didn’t have to leave us,” he heard Ron say in a disgruntled voice though he couldn’t see him. He was obviously wearing the invisibility cloak.

“Stay here and keep an eye out. Hermione and I will try to find a way inside the house,” Harry whispered and Ron nodded as he transformed into Talon then fluttered to the top of the stone wall. He looked down briefly and saw Hermione turn into Vulpes. Her eyes reflected brilliantly in the dark as she streaked off through the gate. He silently spread his wings and took flight then headed toward the manor house.

The house was still brightly lit to display its magnificent grandeur. But there was no sound coming from within. No soft strain of music. No murmur of voices. Talon circled the house completely, peering through the windows in hopes of finding some clue as to what was going on. His keen vision spotted an open door on the first floor balcony and he landed on the railing then hopped down. He looked around cautiously once more then transformed. Harry pulled out his wand and stepped quietly inside. The room was clearly a banquet hall that had recently been in use. The golden table settings were still in place and the evidence of dinner was smeared across their shiny surfaces. The goblets still half-filled with wine, though quite a few had been turned over and their contents were currently staining the marble surface of the table.

As he warily proceeded into the room, Harry’s eyes fell on the crumpled forms of several wizards scattered throughout hall. Their wands laying limply in their hands. Their eyes vacant and unseeing. Their mouths open and gaping, as if surprised by their own death. Harry’s jaw clenched and he silently cursed Lady Isabella to a fiery hell for her arrogance. During a war was no time for a bloody dinner party. Death Eaters had clearly infiltrated the guests and taken the guards by surprise. His gaze swung to the head table. An elegant witch in expensive midnight blue robes was half-stretched across the table. Her face frozen in an expression of utter shock. Harry knew instinctively the witch was Lady Isabella, Elizabeth’s grandmother. He reached out a shaky hand and shut her eyes. A quiet squeak alerted Harry to the presence of a house-elf. He peered under the table and an ancient-looking elf with a long cucumber nose and frightened tear-filled eyes stared back at him. Harry recognised him as the same house-elf that had measured Elizabeth in Gryffindor tower.

“It’s okay. I’m a friend of Elizabeth’s,” Harry said gently. He noticed Baxter was softly petting was dead mistress’s hand and he felt a fleeting pang of guilt for cursing the dead. “You’re Baxter, right?”

The house-elf nervously bobbed his head. “Baxter is all alone, sir. Bad men came and killed his Lady Isabella and carried his mistress away. Everyone else runs away, but Baxter stays. Baxter has nowhere else to go.”

The door to the hall suddenly burst open and Harry reflexively crouched down behind the table next to Baxter. Several people had entered the room and Harry held his breath. He could hear them creeping forward. Soon they would practically be on top of him. He gripped his wand and mentally braced himself for the coming battle.

“Come out, boy.”

It was Moody’s voice. Harry let out a sigh of relief and pushed himself up. Tonks, Lupin, Kingsley, and several other Aurors stood in the middle of the room. Tonks leaned down to touch the body of the nearest dead wizard.

“They haven’t been dead long. The body is still warm,” she said straightening up. She turned to look at Harry. “Where are Ron and Hermione?”

“Outside. Hermione is in fox form and Ron is . . .”

“Right here,” said Ron breathlessly as he and Hermione ran into the hall. He answered Harry’s puzzled frown. “I decided to try to walk through the gate, to see what would happen and what do you know, it let me in with no problem. There doesn’t seem to be any security wards on this place.”

“That is because there isn’t any,” said Dumbledore quietly as he and Firenze walked through the door behind them. Everyone turned and watched as Dumbledore strode through the hall with determined steps and out the balcony door. He lifted his wand to the night sky and muttered a stream of words that Harry could not hear. So Harry ventured closer. A sudden glittering of purple dust arose from the ground and formed the shape of a woman. She grasped the railing then fell to the ground and dissolved into thin air. “She couldn’t say the words correctly. This, I did not foresee,” he heard Dumbledore whisper and Harry’s heart twisted in his chest.

Moody clumped over to chair to the right of the dead body of Lady Isabella and pointed his wand at the half-full goblet. “Excursi!” he rasped then muttered a curse. “The girl was given a dark sleeping draft hidden inside her drink.”

There came a clip-clop of hooves on marble tile. “Harry Potter will know where the Chime has been taken,” said Firenze. “I have glimpsed it in the fumes of burnt sage this night.”

Dumbledore turned toward Harry suddenly and he could feel the fierce power radiating from him. “Harry, you are capable of learned sight. Elizabeth has given this to you. I need you to concentrate only on her. You are connected. Your souls are entwined. She will call to you. Her life depends on you hearing her.”

Harry didn’t question Dumbledore’s knowledge. He closed his eyes and quickly did as he was told. His brow furrowed as an image appeared inside his head, blurry at first and very dark. Then slowly it came into focus, like the images of his dream so long ago. She was unconscious and lying on a cloak under a tree on the cold ground, surrounded by dark shadows patrolling the area. An uncloaked wizard with silver-blonde hair was leaning over her, checking her pulse. She was alive, but very weak. Her body shook with the effort to heal itself. Harry’s instinct was to drift closer to her, to touch her, but he knew he needed to find out where she was. He steered his vision toward the sky and memorised the position of the stars above. His gaze shifted to the surrounding trees and he saw the looming stone altar not far from where Elizabeth lay. He had seen this before . . . not tonight in his dream . . . but somewhere . . .

Harry suddenly opened his eyes and turned to look at Dumbldore. “I know where she is.”

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Elizabeth briefly grimaced as her body shook violently. She could feel the perspiration on her skin and it chilled her already frozen body. She resisted the urge to open her eyes and continued to lie motionless as her mind immediately recalled what had occurred. She had been betrayed once again, by someone she thought she knew almost as deeply as she knew Harry. Her Chime knowledge had been wrong. Malfoy had laced her drink and handed her over to Death Eaters. Her anger cut through the weakness that lingered in her body and her thoughts focused on devising a way to escape.

She had no wand. She heard several different voices murmuring in the dark. She knew they were waiting for the effects of the drink to wear off to present her to Voldemort. So she remained still, hoping to delay what would soon come to pass.

Then she felt someone softly touch her wrist. “That’s my girl, Elizabeth. You’ll be awake soon. I just hope I can get us both out of here alive when you do,” she heard Malfoy whisper. She was confused by his softly spoken confession. It didn’t make sense. She was here because of him.

Things are not as they appear.

“How does she fair, Draco? You didn’t give her too much, I hope. The Esbat draught is slow to effect a person’s body, but can still be lethal if one’s hand is too heavy,” asked a man whose voice she had never heard.

“No, father. Though the amount would have killed a weaker witch. Elizabeth is far from weak. The Dark Lord knows this. She will awaken soon. I assure you. Her heartbeat and breathing have already returned to normal,” said Malfoy.

“You sound as if you admire her,” Lucius said silkily. Elizabeth heard him approach then felt his hand on her face and resisted the urge to pull away as his hand traveled down her body. “It’s a pity that she is the one the Dark Lord seeks. She would have made an excellent daughter-in-law. Your mother was quite upset when she heard about the ritual. She had such high hopes that the Chime could be milked of her blood slowly, allowing you to beget an heir. The children of Chime are powerful indeed.” He paused. “You haven’t . . .” His hand rested on her lower abdomen.

“No, father. I performed the correct charm before . . . just as you instructed me,” said Malfoy.

“Good. The Dark Lord was disappointed that you could not contain the darkness within the ring. But he was pleased to learn that the Chime’s power was so great that she could affect you so strongly even in sleep. I, however, was not so pleased to hear of your weakness,” Lucius said coldly. His hand returned to her face. “But after seeing her myself, I can understand how you could lose control while pleasuring yourself in the delights of her body. You were clever to send the ring back to the Dark Lord before the ring’s power tempted you to give it to her. Even with the dark curse, the ring will always prefer her touch.”

“Thank you, father,” said Malfoy. She felt Lucius’s steps move away from her. A few minutes later, Malfoy quietly spoke again. “I know you are awake, Elizabeth. But keep your eyes shut. I have a plan.” She felt something being slipped inside the hidden pocket of her robes. Malfoy had given her back her wand. “Just trust me.” He squeezed her hand briefly then let it go.

He draws near. He will be here soon.

“On my word, run as fast as you can to your right.” Elizabeth had to concentrate hard to understand his words. They were barely a whisper. “You’ll see a stone bench. Upon it is the portkey that was used to bring you here. Take it. But don’t stay at the house. Summon my broom and leave as quickly as possible. Hogwarts is due west.” Malfoy quietly stepped away.

As the minutes passed, Elizabeth struggled to remain motionless. The foot that was curled under her was prickling with the loss of circulation from the weight of her body. She needed to somehow revive it before she could run properly. She slowly wiggled her toes inside her shoe, ignoring the sensation of thousands of tiny pins stabbing her at once.

Then suddenly, someone grasped her hand and quickly lifted it. A second later, a knife pierced the tip of her finger and she instinctively cried out. Her eyes flew open. One blue and one green stared into her own as he sucked on her bleeding wound and moaned as if he was enthralled in the grasp of pleasure. Before she could throw him off, a flash of green hit his back and he crumpled over lifeless. She was momentarily stunned by what had just happened then she heard Malfoy growl, “Move!”

She sprang to her feet and stumbled slightly as the blood rushed to her frozen limbs, but she pushed herself to run as fast as she possibly could, silently cursing her snug robes. She dodged in and out of the trees as stunning spells whizzed by her. She could see a clearing up ahead. She could hear the pounding of footsteps running behind her. Then she heard Malfoy shout, “Avada Kedavra!” as a hand caught her by the hair and she cried out. She heard a thump directly behind her and her head was jerked backwards as some of her hair was ripped from her head, but she continued to run. Her brain barely had time to register that Malfoy had just killed two people as she reached the clearing. Shit! There are so many benches . . . Her eyes suddenly caught a faint glimmer. She lunged for the goblet as Death Eaters burst through the trees. She grasped the goblet with both hands as she landed hard on the ground, expecting to be immediately whisked away. But nothing happened.

She dropped the goblet as she was wrenched to her feet. She instinctively threw up her hands and the Death Eater went flying backward, flipping over a stone altar. Then she was knocked out of breath by the force of a stunning spell to the chest. Her body burned as if on fire and she stumbled, but she did not fall. She whirled on the spot, throwing her arms out and several Death Eaters flew out of clearing and into the trees. She whipped out her wand from her pocket, but it went flying out of her hand.

“That is enough,” hissed a high, cold voice. “Incarcerous.”

Thick ropes flew out of thin air and wrapped themselves around her wrists then curled once around her body, sufficiently enabling her the use of her arms and hands. The Death Eaters that were not already on the ground fell to their knees immediately. Elizabeth lifted her gaze and stared into the glowing red eyes of Voldemort and her blood ran cold.

“Fools. Have you no knowledge of how to sufficiently stop a Chime?” He clicked his tongue as if scolding a group of children. He leaned over and picked up the goblet that lay useless at his feet. “Pity. You had such high hopes for this . . . and so did young Malfoy,” Voldemort whispered. “Bring him forward.”

Elizabeth watched as the limp body of Malfoy was dragged into the stone circle and thrown to the ground.

“I think a lesson is in order.” Voldemort pointed his wand at Malfoy. “Enervate.” Malfoy opened his eyes, but looked dazed for a moment. Then his eyes focused on Voldemort and an expression of terrror flashed his face. “You may all rise,” Voldemort said lazily. The Death Eaters stood and formed a silent circle within the stone ring.

Malfoy slowly rose and quickly glanced over at Elizabeth. “Yes, young Malfoy. The Chime is still here. Did you think I would not learn from past mistakes?” Voldemort leisurely circled him. “I knew as soon as word had reached me of your healing that the Chime had infected you with her weakness. It’s what they do. The power of Chime is great and I knew you could not resist it’s call. But . . . I also knew that you were trapped between two worlds and there could be a chance for you still. I’ll admit I was not certain, until tonight, which path you would choose.” Voldemort held up the goblet in front of Malfoy then dropped his hand and the goblet hovered for a brief moment before vanishing. “You disappoint me in your choice.”

Voldemort turned suddenly toward his Death Eaters with a cruel smile on his hideous face. “Chime have the power to heal. Throwing spells at her that would damage the body of a normal witch, will do nothing, but temporarily stop a Chime. You’ve already seen how she reacted to being hit by a stunning spell. Now observe the use of the Cruciatus Curse . . . first on young Malfoy . . . Crucio.”

Malfoy fell to the ground writhing and shrieking with pain. Voldemort laughed.

“Stop it!” Elizabeth shouted, unable to stand to watch the torture any longer.

Voldemort slowly raised his wand and turned toward Elizabeth as Malfoy lay gasping on the ground. “You do not fear pain, Chime. It is, but a minor annoyance to you. This, I understand. So I’m certain you won’t mind giving my Death Eaters another small demonstration of your power, just to compare the difference . . . Crucio.”

Elizabeth was struck down by the intense agony. Her body shook violently and started to curl up into a protective cocoon. But then the familiar burning sensation rose up inside of her and gradually banished the pain. On shaky legs, she stood once again and faced Voldemort.

Voldemort raised his wand. “Your powers have increased immensely, I see. No wonder Couture risked death for a taste of you. He must have felt it in your touch.”

There was silence, but for the heavy breathing of both Elizabeth and Malfoy. Then the Death Eater directly behind Malfoy stepped forward. “Master, I beg your forgiveness for my ignorance, but I crave to know . . . how do you kill a Chime when their body refuses to surrender?”

Voldemort turned his head in the Death Eater’s direction. “You are new to our united clan, Giles. You were but a boy when last I rose to power. So I will help you to understand. You see . . . no wizard or witch can kill a Chime who has acquired her full power . . . unless she wills it.” He turned to face Elizabeth. “As Malfoy has discovered, the true weakness of Chime is her ability to feel another’s pain. The closer she is connected to a person, the deeper the pain is felt when the other suffers. Notice she cried out when young Malfoy was under the Cruciatus Curse, but not when she was put through it herself.” He raised his wand and gave a slight flick and a silver ring appeared. “That is were this becomes very useful.”

Elizabeth’s eyes locked onto the ring and a familiar prickling appeared in the back of her mind.

Voldemort smiled. “Yes . . . you want the ring . . . I can see it in your eyes . . . it calls to you . . . How fortunate I was to have found it before your mother could give it to you. Oh, that’s right you do not know the story . . .You see, your mother and her friends were quite a nuisance during my first reign of power. They thwarted me at every turn. I had to get rid of them. And as luck would have it, one of their own came to me and told me of your parents plan to marry and much like your grandmother’s dinner party, I decided to take advantage of the opportunity. But your mother, I’ll admit, surprised me and she escaped my Death Eaters. Quite a clever little witch, she was. But I couldn’t let her get away with spoiling my fun. So I had her hunted down and brought back to me. Several times she avoided recapture, but my Death Eaters finally succeeded when her pregnancy made her slow and vulnerable. I used the Cruciatus Curse on her as well, but I noticed she didn’t suffer as thoroughly as she should and she refused to give me the information that I sought no matter how many times Bellatrix put her under the curse. I’ll admit it puzzled me at first, but then . . .” He rolled the ring between his long white fingers, “I noticed this on the floor where she had recently been tortured and knew immediately what it meant. She was carrying you, a Chime, and you were protecting her even while you were still inside her womb. But before I could rip you from her body, she slipped through my fingers once more. All but vanished from the face of the earth. I’ll admit, to this day, I still don’t know how she managed it. But I still had the ring and without it, you were vulnerable. So I played with it a bit. I could not erase its power so I added my own. The effects to which young Malfoy is quite familiar. Untouched, the ring provides protection from all who wish to harm you in every form, not just physically, but mentally as well. Where you are most vulnerable, Chime . . . with this ring you can not be touched.” Voldemort turned back to Giles. “Now tell me . . . how do you kill a chime?”

“By making her do it herself.”