The Legend of Chime

Chapter Twenty-seven: The Curse of Culpability

The ancient book was unnaturally heavy in his hand and he absently adjusted his grip to account for its weight as he walked down the narrow landing. All powerful dark books were the same. Like a festering disease, they looked completely innocent to the untrained eye, their darkness hidden long ago by their creators. At first glance, the books spouted complete nonsense about flowers or other droll things to distract from their true contents. A wizard, who was unaware of the spell used to unlock them, saw only a dull book of no real importance, concealed benignly among other dark books of a much weaker nature that only annoyingly screamed at you when you dared to open their covers. But like the analogous volumes at Malfoy Manor, Draco knew this one in particular would be there silently waiting to be recognized for what it truly was. It had taken only the briefest of glances for him to discern the small familiar crest on the spine winking at him malevolently.

Absently, his thumb found the silver emblem of a serpent entwined on two crossed swords and he softly traced its familiar form as he neared his destination. As a first year, he had been the first in his house to notice these particular books quietly nestled within the loose restraints of the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library. He had wondered why Dumbledore kept them within such easy reach. In the past, he had assumed Dumbledore to be what he pretended, a bumbling idiot. But even now when he knew the truth, the question still baffled him.

Draco stopped short but hesitated as he reached for the silver doorknob; unspoken doubts suddenly plagued his mind as they had for the last week and a half. He knew they were inside waiting for him now, practicing their duelling to past the time. He could hear Potter and Weasley good-naturedly taunting each other and the girls shouting encouragement from a distance. He slowly looked down at the book he held in his hands and his stomach churned restlessly. He knew it would change their lives forever. Dark knowledge could never be unlearned, no matter how hard you tried to forget. He shook his head, pushed aside his unwanted thoughts and quietly opened the door.

"About time, Malfoy. You told us an hour remember," Weasley grumbled, still brandishing his wand and repeating the same phrase he had at every meal for the last week, minus the raining bits of food carelessly spewing from his mouth.

Draco scowled at Weasley's annoying comment as he fully entered the room. Weasley really was a bit like Crabbe and Goyle in some respects. He glanced briefly at Weasley and noticed how he twirled his wand once between his fingers then pocketed it gracefully in his worn jeans. Draco subtly rolled his eyes. Ok, maybe, not so much.

"Watch it, Harry!" Weasley yelped, ducking his head as a flash of red flew by his left ear.

"Sorry," Potter mumbled distractedly as he turned toward Draco. "So you found it," he said, though Draco knew it wasn't a question.

"Of course, I did," Draco smirked, offhand. "It wasn't difficult. This is the Black Family home, after all. Not exactly the Brady Bunch, this lot."

Potter allowed a short chuckle at his comment and Granger gave him an odd, semi-amused expression but otherwise said nothing.

"Brady Bunch?" Weasley asked, obviously puzzled. "What the hell are you talking about, Malfoy?"

"Clearly, it's beyond you, Weasley," Draco muttered stiffly, slightly embarrassed that he allowed that small bit of information to slip. Draco inwardly cringed as he turned away. He would happily give himself over to the Dark Lord again before he would ever admit to watching such an idiotic television show at his Uncle Alphard's house as a child. He quickly pulled out his wand and conjured a small writing desk to distract from his slight slip of the tongue. Potter was looking at him strangely again. He hated when he did that. Trying his best to appear unruffled, Draco coolly laid the ancient book upon the desk.

"Is it what you needed then?" asked Potter, moving toward the unopened manuscript and staring down as if mesmerised by the sight of it....or oddly drawn to it. Draco couldn't decide which was correct.

"Unfortunately, yes," Draco said with little enthusiasm. "It seems the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black has complied a book with every dark curse known to wizardkind... and even a few unknown, or at least some I had never seen before...and that's saying something."

"If it was so easy to find, what took you so long?" complained Weasley, following closely behind Potter to peer down at the tattered volume. "I could've read the whole blasted thing in that time."

"That's highly doubtful, Ron," amended Granger quietly with a slightly warning tone and Weasley threw her a slight look of betrayal.

Malfoy gritted his teeth against a cutting retort. "I was trying to find simple curses that wouldn't scramble what's left of your tiny brain the first time you attempted them."

Unimpressed, Weasley curiously reached out to examine the book. He flipped through a couple of chapters and then eyed Draco suspiciously. "But there's nothing in here but facts on how," he glanced down at one the names, "Ignatius Leonardo Black successfully pruned a Mastagine plant without breaking out in pus-hives or being bludgeoned to death," he let out a short snort as he replaced the book on the desk and continued in his familiar sarcastic tone, "Don't tell me you expect us to attack Death Eaters by throwing bits of pus-foliage at them in the hopes that it throttles them to death for us. Now that would be something. It truly would. Honestly, Malfoy. I didn't see you using that brilliant technique in the forest. Then again, it was pretty dark....."

"Shut it for once, Weasley. What I'm about to show you is not a joke," Draco snapped venomously through his clenched teeth. "This book has the power to kill you if you let it. So do show it a bit of respect, won't you?"

Understandably uneasy with the idea of a murderous book, Weasley visibly swallowed and took a small step backward, allowing Draco and the book a bit of space.

Taking a deep breath, Draco lifted his wand and rested the tip against the emblem on the spine then quietly muttered, "Apertum Manifesto!"

The book immediately jumped, startling Weasley and the others to Draco's brief satisfaction, and then it nosily fluttered open. The yellowed pages appeared to have been wiped clean momentarily. But then like the beating of a heart, the familiar blood-red ink started pumping from the centre of the massive volume, seeping its way across the pages, leaving sinisterly scrawled words and grotesque pictures in its wake.

"T-The writing," stammered Granger who had quietly come to stand behind him, "It appears to be...."

"Blood," interceded Draco coldly. "Yeah. The authors of dark books always wrote them with their own blood."

Potter curiously rubbed the back of his right hand, but said nothing.

Weasley visibly swallowed again. "Bit mad that."

Draco allowed a slight chuckle at Weasley's comical expression. "Of course, they were mad, Weasley. They were, after all, Dark wizards. All Dark wizards are at least half mental. Comes with the territory, I suppose. I suspect that's partially why I was never very good at being one." Draco smirked, "Sadly, I'm only a third." He shook his head and rolled his eyes as the room suddenly became deathly quiet. "That was a joke, by the way."

Weasley forced an insincere laugh but quickly let it drop. "Yeah, good one."

"Actually, it was quite a brilliant idea," Draco continued. "It insured only a direct descendent of the author could reveal the true nature of the book. Even with the correct incantation."

"Fascinating," breathed Hermione, stepping closer. "And because it's a book about the Black Family, it would be easy to explain why it was passed down generation after generation." She reached out her hand, slightly in awe, to physically examine the ancient pages.

"Careful, Granger," warned Malfoy, grabbing her hand before it could come in contact with the parchment. "No touching this one. I'm afraid you'd be left with only wilted flesh for an arm. It's cursed against outsiders."

"So only you or Elizabeth can unlock the book? As well as handle it?" asked Potter.

Draco glanced at Potter warily. Something in Potter's eyes made him suddenly uneasy though he couldn't quite put a finger on what it was exactly. "Along with a few other relatives. That's right," he affirmed slowly.

"Nice inheritance," muttered Weasley grimly. "I think I'd prefer a crooked nose or something."

Suddenly noticing Elizabeth wasn't standing next to Potter or Granger, Draco turned to find her positioned a few feet behind them. When she made no move to join them at the desk, he knew something was out of sorts. "Is something wrong, Elizabeth? You seem paler than normal. You haven't lost your stomach for learning the dark arts, have you?" he asked slight concern in his voice.

"N-No, I-I'm fine," whispered Elizabeth, staring at the book from a distance. "It's just that...." she paused for a moment her eyes moving to Potter then she shook her head as she glanced up at him, "It's nothing. I'm fine," she said forcing a smile and taking a step closer. "So...What do we do now?"

Draco frowned and contemplated her question for a moment. The question itself was quite legitimate, but still he wasn't certain how to answer it. He remembered rather vividly how he was initiated into the Dark Arts. Years ago, he had been shown he had to fully appreciate the power of true anger, pain and suffering before he could hope to succeed in accomplishing dark curses. The darkness came from within oneself; the spells only focused the power into an end result. Or...at least, that had always been the explanation his father had given for his cruelty. So how was he to proceed without repeating what had been done to him ...?

Slowly, Draco's eyes found Potter's lightening bolt scar and the idea struck him. Potter had experienced things... dark things.

"Potter, you're able to produce a Patronus," muttered Draco, offhand. He paused and tilted his head, remembering his unsuccessful practical joke of a couple years back. "How did you learn?" he asked curiously.

Potter paused for a moment with a puzzled expression. "Professor Lupin taught me," he responded quietly.

"But how did you learn?" Draco insisted. "I'm curious. I've never been able to accomplish it."

Potter gave him a strange smile. "You must concentrate hard on one single, happy memory," he stated simply.

"Awww, so that's the trick," said Draco sadly, then he raised an eyebrow. "So the happier the memory, the stronger the Patronus?"

"Something like that, yeah," said Potter.

"Strangely, it makes sense," said Draco under his breath as he looked down at the blood-red pages, remembering how he had defeated the Shadow Demons by focusing on, well, not so much a memory but a recent dream, something his heart desired so much it invaded his mind while he slept. Funny, now that he thought about it, he had never remembered any of his dreams before coming to number twelve Grimmauld Place. Shaking his head, he turned to Weasley suddenly. "Can you conjure a Patronus as well?"

Weasley lifted his chin proudly and nodded. "Yeh."

"And what about you, Granger?" he asked turning to look at her over his shoulder.

"Yes. My Patronus is an Otter," she said nodding slowly, still a bit distracted by the sight of the book. "Harry taught us during the D.A. meetings last year. He's an excellent teacher."

Draco raised one slender eyebrow. "Really? So that's why you were sneaking around at night. Interesting. Hmmm....What about you, Elizabeth?" he asked, turning around to face her. "Has Potter also brilliantly taught you?"

"No," came Elizabeth's softly spoken reply.

Draco lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

Elizabeth allowed a faint smile. "You heard me correctly, Draco. As gifted as Harry is as a teacher, he's hit a wall with me. The few times that I have attempted the Patronus Charm, I've been unsuccessful." She shrugged nonchalantly. "Not even a bloody puff of smoke to show for my effort."

"Curious," whispered Draco, tapping his wand against his lips. "I wonder why." After a moment, he shrugged and turned back to the open book. "Well, anyway...it seems the key to mastering dark spells is quite the opposite of mastering the Patronus Charm." He scanned the book momentarily then walked to the centre of the room. He raised his wand and casually commanded, "Trainer Transpose. Defence postion."

Immediately, a duplicate of himself appeared on the opposite side of the room, wand raised and ready to duel. Satisfied, Draco turned and motioned Potter to come forward with his wand, "Potter, I want you to attempt it first."

Potter hesitantly moved forward, pulling his wand from his back pocket in the process. "And what am I going to attempt exactly?"

Draco allowed an evil grin. "Well, Potter, you're going to finally succeed in smashing my face in without the help of one of the Weasley's."

"Hey! How come Harry gets all the fun?" grumbled Weasley overly-loud as they walked to the centre of the room.

Draco ignored this as Potter came to a stop next to him. "Now. Potter," he pushed him directly in front of him so that he was standing face to face with the fake Draco and then he leaned in closer to slowly whisper in his ear, "Look at him. Concentrate hard. Think of your most vile memory, an actual living nightmare, something that plays itself over and over in the back of your mind while you sleep... your parents' murder, perhaps...Diggory's death... the death of Sirius Black...or Elizabeth lying burned and lifeless on the ground beneath you."

Potter visibly stiffened.

"That's it. Don't fight it, Potter. Embrace the images. Feel them start to burn inside you. Twisting your insides like a dagger in your gut." Draco felt a force suddenly radiate from Potter that he had never noticed before. He instinctively braced himself, but otherwise ignored it as he continued speaking slowly, "You feel it, don't you? The hate. The anger. The pain of helplessness. They have a power of their own, Potter. Use them. Visualise them. Allow them to breath and grow." He watched as Potter's wand started to vibrate within his trembling grasp. Potter was growing paler with each passing minute. Perspiration was starting to roll down his forehead and his scar seemed to have turned a dark red as if it was once again a fresh wound. Draco smiled painfully and clenched his jaw as he remembered the agony Potter was probably now experiencing. "You have it, Potter. Now raise your wand...Good... Now say the incantation clearly, "Vulnificus."

"Vulnificus!" Potter forcibly shouted, his wand a momentary blurr of motion.

Draco watched in disbelief as the curse immediately sliced through the air and hit the magically forged clone directly in the face, making it fall to the floor completely unrecognisable, blood spurting freely into the air. The clone lay motionless covered in its own blood then suddenly dissolved into nothing a moment later. But before Draco could react, Potter grabbed his head and emitted a tortuous scream as if it was being torn from the depths of his soul; his face distorted in pain. A second later, he collapsed to his knees, his wand emitting dark red sparks as it clattered to the floor beside him.

Elizabeth appeared next to him in an instant but Potter shoved her away with a growl, the force causing her to trip backwards and land hard on her backside. Undeterred, Elizabeth scrambled to her feet once more and quickly ceased his head between her hands before Potter could think to resist again. She let out a soft gasp and her body shook violently as she absorbed whatever damage Potter had inflicted upon himself during the curse.

But like the horrific scene of an accident, Draco stumbling backward as well, couldn't look away.

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The high-pitched laughter, screams, and heart-pounding images faded from Harry's mind and he slowly opened his eyes as the agony seeped from his chilled body and the searing pain in his scar was quickly replaced by the familiar soothing heat of Elizabeth's touch. He raised his trembling hands to hers and gently pulled them away from his face as he concentrated hard on closing his mind once again. In his eagerness to learn dark art skills, he had forgotten to protect himself from Voldemort's intrusion into his thoughts. Harry silently cursed his carelessness. For a moment, Voldemort had seen everything he had. Harry lifted a shaking hand and softly brushed the hair from Elizabeth's eyes. He had seen her. Harry knew it as well as he knew his own thoughts. Now, Voldemort knew for certain how powerful she was. Harry stared at Elizabeth for a moment, noticing suddenly her appearance. She was damp with perspiration and her hair clung to her skin. Her breathing was heavy and her eyes remained closed. Harry frowned.

"Harry? Elizabeth?" Hermione questioned anxiously as she dropped down on her knees beside them. "Are you all right? Say something!"

Ron leaned down and grabbed hold of Hermione's shoulders and lifted her. "Calm down, Hermione. Give 'em some breathin' room. They're okay," Ron looked uncertain for a moment, "Right, Harry? It was just the curse, wasn't it, mate?"

Harry slightly nodded in answer then turned back to Elizabeth, who had yet to move though her breathing was starting to return to normal. "Elizabeth?" Harry asked quietly. His voice sounded rough to his own ears as he stared into Elizabeth's flushed face.

After a moment, Elizabeth opened her eyes and two crystal tears trailed softly down her damp cheeks. Dazed, she emitted no sound as she opened her mouth and her expression became one of pure sadness.

Alarmed, Harry grabbed her shoulders and demanded, "Elizabeth! Are you all right?" He quickly searched her body for wounds he might have accidentally inflicted in the midst of his blind agony. "Tell me where it hurts!"

Elizabeth seemed to come out of her daze at Harry's panic-stricken voice and she shook her head shortly. "I'm fine," she whispered, pushing Harry's frantic hands away. She sniffed and brushed the traitorous tears from her face as she attempted to rise to her feet again. "Really. I'm fine," she assured weakly, grabbing Ron's offered hand. "Ar-Are you okay?" she asked, glancing down at him as she rose to her feet.

Harry nodded his head as he pushed himself off the floor and brushed off his worn jeans. "Yeah. Of course, I am," he mumbled as he retrieved his wand. "Never better." He knew something else had happened but he didn't want to press Elizabeth in front of the others. He silently wondered what she had seen when she had touched him.

"What the bloody hell was that, Potter?" spouted Malfoy, suddenly finding his voice.

Harry frowned. "Gimme a break, Malfoy. It was my first attempt," he said, pushing past him with his shoulder. Taking criticism from Malfoy was definitely on the bottom of his need-to-do list at the moment. Harry glanced quickly over at Elizabeth who seemed to have recovered well enough but her skin was still quite a bit paler than before. Maybe this wasn't such a brilliant idea, after all, Harry thought wryly as he walked back toward the desk. Secretly, he wasn't certain his brain could handle another go but he'd be damned if he would admit it to Malfoy.

Uncharacteristically, Malfoy appeared speechless and his mouth gaped open and shut repeatedly, resembling a very pale and ugly fish gasping for air. But then, he grabbed Harry's shoulder and forcibly turned him around. "What do you mean it was your first attempt? Bollocks, Potter! You bloody killed me!" he said, pointing toward the empty space where the fake Malfoy had landed.

"Clear off, Malfoy," defended Ron, stepping between him and Harry. "He didn't kill you. Only your evil twin. And you asked him to do it. Or did you forget that small detail."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Weasley," spat Malfoy, gazing slightly up at Ron. "I told him to smash my face in. Not kill me, you idiot." He turned again to Harry. "That curse was supposed to inflict injury, Potter. Like a blow to the face to delay or incapacitate the enemy. One of the weaker dark curses, by the way. It wasn't meant to have the power to kill anyone. Which you did or the clone wouldn't have dissipated. There's no way that was your first attempt. You've had to have done dark curses before. No amateur could do that."

"Huh?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, in a clear sign of impatience. "The ...Vul-ni-fer...Curse, Potter. The one you just performed," he stated slowly as if Harry was still a bit addled, then pointing again to the centre of the room. "You've done it before!"

Harry stared blankly toward the spot and Malfoy threw back his head and laughed; a deep, happy sound Harry had never dreamt Malfoy could ever produce willingly.

"Careful, Harry," Ron warned over his shoulder, taking a step backward and almost colliding with Harry's chest. "I believe the family madness is resurrecting itself."

"M-My G-God, You haven't!" Malfoy sputtered, gasping for breath between continued fits of mirth.

Harry glanced at Elizabeth who shook her head and shrugged helplessly, clearly at a loss for words as well.

"Bloody Hell, Potter! How dense can you be?" Malfoy shouted toward the ceiling. Then he looked down at Harry again and took a deep breath, appearing to quickly bring his emotions under control. "You can't do any better than that, for Merlin's sake," Malfoy incredulously articulated between clenched teeth as though it cost him several thousand galleons to admit it.

Finally, a look of comprehension replaced the baffled expression on Harry's face and he grinned widely.

"Awww, now, he understands," Malfoy drawled, throwing his hands up in a hopeless gesture and talking to the ceiling once more. After a moment, he glanced down and smiled genuinely again, softening the sharp angles of his pale face, "Damn. I knew I was good, Potter, but who knew I was that good. I just might have to rethink my choice of career paths. Professor Malfoy does have a nice ring to it, now doesn't it?"

"Professor Malfoy!" said Ron incredulously. He glanced at Hermione. "That settles it. I'm never having children."

Malfoy continued smiling, undeterred. "But a small word of advice, perhaps, Potter. Don't concentrate so bloody hard next time. Or your skull might just crack open and cover us all in a bloody mess." He sighed dramatically. "Poor Elizabeth would be forever in patching you up."

Elizabeth let out an indignant snort. "Whatever, Draco."

"You mean to say that was a normal reaction?" asked Hermione incredulously.

Malfoy shrugged. "Not sure, to tell the truth." He walked toward the centre of the room again and motioned for Ron to follow. "I usually passed out in the beginning."

"Wonderful, Malfoy," grumbled Ron, hesitantly following. "You really know how to set a person's mind at ease."

"I'm not here to tell you warm and fuzzy stories, Weasley," assured Malfoy lightly, raising his wand once more. "I'm here to teach you how to properly attack without causing insanity in the process. Trainer Transpose. Defence position."

"Of course. What was I thinking? What's a bit of madness when you can learn to scream really loud and smash someone's face in?" asked Ron sarcastically, positioning himself in a duelling stance as he faced Malfoy's re-conjured evil twin.

"Exactly," agreed Malfoy pleasantly, positioning himself behind Ron.

Surprisingly enough, Ron was able to accomplish the curse in less than a dozen attempts, though the clone only fell to the floor with a badly broken nose that wouldn't heal. But according to Malfoy, who did seem to have quite a knack for teaching dark arts, that was actually what was supposed to happen. Unsurprisingly, the first four attempts rendered Ron completely unconscious for a small portion of the three hours it took. And sadly, during the fifth attempt, the clone had enough time to get off a Protego Charm and Ron's curse ricocheted back towards him and hit him in the stomach, knocking him on his back side and causing him to vomit all over the floor. But luckily, Elizabeth successfully revived him every time he collapsed to the floor or accidentally cursed himself with very little effort, which was a bit disconcerting to Harry's way of thinking. He still didn't understand why it had taken so much out of her to revive him. He hadn't fainted or knocked himself senseless. Not that he wanted her to heal him at all. He was certain he would have been fine after a few minutes or so. He was, after all, use to feeling pain in his scar.

When it was finally Hermione's turn to face the clone, Hermione stood in perfect form, as was her custom, but was unable to perform the curse at all. After a good hour of trying, Hermione finally lowered her wand. "Oh well, I guess I'm just not in a bloodlust sort of mood today," she said smiling in mixed relief as she walked toward Harry, Ron, and Elizabeth. For once, she didn't seem at all disappointed in her lack of success. "I suppose I'll try again tomorrow."

"I can't say I'm surprised," said Malfoy dully, coming to a stop beside Hermione. "Most witches are unable to perform any sort of dark curse without good reason. And even then, it's pretty rare. They just don't have the heart for it. And the ones that do definitely aren't the portrait of perfect mental health." He turned his head toward Elizabeth with his signature smirk plastered to his face and gave a half-bow. "Willing to prove me wrong, Mistress Fairchild?"

Elizabeth hesitated a moment then straightened her shoulders with a determined expression on her face and pulled out her wand as she gave a slight curtsey in return. "Of course, I am," she said firmly and started toward the centre of the room.

The beautiful image of Bellatrix Lestrange floated through Harry's mind at Malfoy's words. "Wait a moment!" said Harry, grabbing Elizabeth's arm. He was fully prepared for the heated glare she threw at him over her shoulder. He'd rather have an angry Elizabeth than an insane one.

"How exactly do you expect to recover from each attempt, Elizabeth?" Ron quickly asked, trying to head off her temper. "None of us have the ability to heal you."

Elizabeth tugged her arm out of Harry's grasp impatiently. "Simple," she said, lifting in delicate eyebrow and turning on her heel, "I don't plan on doing it more than once." Harry opened his mouth to protest but Elizabeth held up her hand. "I can handle it, Harry."

Malfoy followed behind with a small shrug. "Trainer Transpose. Defence position."

Harry watched her walk away with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach then he turned his head to look at a flushed-face Ron.

Ron raised his hands defensively. "Hey! Don't look at me, mate! You heard her. She can handle it. Who am I to disagree?"

Harry watched uncomfortably as Malfoy carefully positioned himself behind Elizabeth, who immediately raised her wand and silently stared at the clone. After several minutes, Malfoy whispered something in her ear but Elizabeth seemed not to notice, her expression never wavered though beads of perspiration had started to roll down her increasingly flushed face. Then in a blur of motion and sound, she shouted the incantation, slicing her wand through the air at the same time. The clone stumbled backwards as the curse hit him in the face, blood spurting from a grotesque hole where his nose once had been a second before.

"Damn," breathed Ron, slightly in awe. He turned to Harry, who was quite impressed in spite of himself. "Remind me to never make her angry, mate."

Hermione snorted. "Oh, come on, Ron. Of course, she's good. It's only logical. She been absorbing people's pain all her life and had no where for it to go except to bottle it up deep inside. It probably isn't that difficult for her to turn it around and project it constructively. It might even be a sort of welcomed release, so to speak." She hesitated at Harry's sudden scowl. "Not that she's evil or would enjoy dark magic or anything. It's just probably cathartic, you know, therapeutic...oh, forget it." She turned back toward Elizabeth and raised her voice. "Brilliant show, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth turned her head and smiled faintly at Hermione's praise. But then her knees buckled when she attempted to move her legs once more and Malfoy caught her by the arm before she could fall.

"You all right?" he hissed anxiously.

Elizabeth shook her head as she straightened up on wobbly legs. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired all of the sudden, is all," she said weakly.

"I think we should call it a day for now, Malfoy," said Harry firmly, slipping his arm around Elizabeth, who leaned against him gratefully for support.

"Ron!"

Everyone turned at the sound of Ginny's voice as she darted through the doorway, her long mane of red hair flying wildly about her.

"They're back!" said she breathlessly. "Mum, Dad and all the others. Something's happened! When they came through the front door, they sounded pretty upset. They've shut themselves up in the drawing room again."

"What exactly did you hear, Ginny?" asked Harry.

Ginny looked anxiously at Elizabeth. "Something about Elizabeth, some bloody idiots and a decision," she said quickly under her breath.

Hermione looked over at Elizabeth and asked, "Did they put an Imperturable Charm on the room, Ginny?"

Ginny shook her head. "That's why I ran to get you. The dungbomb I chucked across the foyer hit the door!"

That said, Harry and the others flew out of the room as quickly as their feet could carry them. Pausing at the first floor landing, they quietly walked down the last flight of stairs; Hermione throwing a silencing charm at each step to dissipate the tell-tale creaks and groans for good measure.

"Wish we had a pair of Extendable Ears," whispered Ron bitterly as he tiptoed down the stairs behind Hermione.

"By the sound of your Mum's voice, we won't need them," whispered Hermione, putting her index finger to her lips as Harry brushed past her down the last few steps. "Listen."

"....idiotic fools. Absolute insanity is what it is. She's just a girl, for Merlin's sake. Not a bloomin' experiment!" came Mrs. Weasley's strained voice echoing through the door and into the foyer.

Harry's heart dropped to somewhere around his navel as he stopped a hair's breathe from the door and peered through the miniscule crack. He could only see vague shadows projected from the fire, but he recognised their familiar forms. Malfoy, Ron, Hermione and Ginny quietly positioned themselves on the other side of the door frame. Unable to peer through the crack as well, they all visibly strained to hear the words coming from the other side.

"Where were all those bloody caring witches and wizards when she was wasting away in that orphanage? You tell me that!" seethed Mrs. Weasley. Harry couldn't see her face but he could imagine it was quite red the moment. "Despicable! Outrageous is what it is! What other ridiculous lunacy is Cornelius Fudge purposing?"

"We're not certain, Molly," said Mr. Weasley, sounding exhausted. "Fudge is aware who most of the members in the Order are now. His words are monitored closely around us. But he appears to be following the law, word for word in this matter."

"He's right, Molly. Our hands are tied," Tonks quickly interceded before Mrs. Weasley could go off on another verbal tantrum. "But luckily, Fudge seems to loosen his lips around Percy or we wouldn't even be aware of this new scheme of his. But no worries. Dumbledore will sort it all out."

"Yes," said Mrs. Weasley worriedly as though fighting back tears. "Dear Percy has been invaluable inside the Ministry these days."

"Likely, trying to make up for being such a bloody git," gruffly murmured Ron under his breath.

Though he quite agreed, Harry threw him a disapproving look as he put his index finger to his lips in a silencing gesture. Hermione must have pinched Ron at the same time because he winced dramatically and quickly grabbed his arm but kept silent.

"How has Elizabeth been faring, Molly?" questioned Lupin in a concerned voice.

Mrs.Weasley gave a deep sigh. "Quiet as ever I'm afraid. Though I must say I haven't had much time with her since everything that has happened in Douglas. Hestia reports the Manx Wizarding guard have taken care of what they can to the best of their ability. But they're not very well equipped to deal with this sort of thing. It's been too long since they've had to be become involved," she softly clicked her tongue, "Those poor Muggles didn't know what hit them. They're blaming it on something called a Natural gas leak. Whatever that is."

"Yeh, and there's still that missing boy Elizabeth was friends with," said Tonks. "That's a bit strange, that is. So Hestia, Elphias and Emmaline are looking into it quietly. Dumbledore wants to know if it's just coincidence or foul play of some sort. I think Dumbledore has a mindset the boy might have been what You-know-who was after."

Douglas. Harry thought. That's where Elizabeth is from. Harry glanced over his shoulder at Elizabeth who stood a few feet behind him, still holding onto the banister. Her face was pale again, but her expression was unreadable. She slowly moved closer as Mrs. Weasley continued.

"Yes, well, overall, Elizabeth seems to have recovered fairly well from what I've seen. She studies quite a bit. Clever girl. It's no wonder she and Hermione get along so well. A lot like her mother, she is. And her appetite is ...well, let's just say she gives Ron a run for his chocolate frogs." Mrs. Weasley gave a soft chuckle. "The house-elves have been doing an excellent job of keeping the kitchen well-stocked, thank goodness. But still, she looks like such a frail thing," said Mrs. Weasley on a sigh. "If it weren't for that strange warm feeling you get just by touching her," Mrs. Weasley paused, "Sort of like a strong Cheering Charm that is," she added as an afterthought, "Well, anyway, it would be easy to forget she's a Chime. You would never think it by the looks of her. Far too thin...."

"Appearances can be greatly deceiving, Molly," Lupin quietly interrupted. "So she is still unaware of what has been happening in the outside world? What about Harry and the others?"

"Yes, of course," sniffed Mrs. Weasley, her tone slightly indignant. "All forms of rubbish, including the Quibbler, have been banished from this house. The house-elves have made certain no owls with newspapers can get through."

Mr. Weasley sighed. "Well, at least, that's something. Though we won't be able to keep all of it from her for long, I'm afraid, Molly."

"The less the girl knows, the better, Arthur," murmured Mrs. Weasley quietly, her tone sounding almost as if she was trying to convince herself. "The whole of it would be too much for her to handle with all she's been through of late. She has quite enough to be going on with. She might be a Chime but she's also a young girl with only us to look out for her."

"I don't know," said Bill's voice distractedly. "I'm not certain keeping what has happened from Elizabeth is such a wise thing. After all, in some respects, she is far more knowledgeable than all of us put together. If we allowed it, she could be a great asset to the Order."

"I don't care how gifted she is," snapped Mrs.Weasley. "She is still an underage witch and therefore too young to get involved, Bill Weasley!"

"Now, Molly, I'm not certain underage should matter now," said Mr. Weasley. "You-know-who isn't much concerned with age," he sighed again, "But... your mother is right about Elizabeth's abilities, Bill. If we were to ask her, we would be no better than the ones who seek her now. Remember, we must put what is best for her above all else."

There was a quiet murmur of agreement among the group.

"But what if she offered to help," insisted Bill. "It would be foolish of us not to accept. Keep in mind, her parents weren't that much older when they joined the Order."

"That don't count for anything, I say," came Moody's gravely voice. "All those voices swimming around in that girl's head, it's not natural. I bet she doesn't even know what they are yet." He huffed loudly. "Uncontrolled power is dangerous. Mark my words, it shouldn't be toyed with."

"I wouldn't be so certain about that, Alastor," came Professor McGonagall's stern voice. "She is quite aware of her guardians' presence and she's a quick study. Quickest I have seen in all my years of teaching, mind you. Who is to say she hasn't learnt to use them? It's not like any of us are able to instruct her properly, for goodness' sake."

"Bah, she's ignoring them completely, most likely," grumbled Moody then he paused with a curious huff. "Guardians, you say, McGonagall?"

"For lack of a better word. Yes, I believe that is an adequate description," sniffed Professor McGonagall's voice coldly.

"Well, seems to me she's got plenty of those all ready in solid form," sneered Moody, "and five of them are about to tumble through that blasted door, the nosey fools."

Harry stiffened: How could he have forgotten Moody's magical eye? He glanced over at Ron and Hermione who shrugged helplessly in unison. Not knowing what else to do, Harry straightened his spine and grabbed hold of the doorknob to open it but Elizabeth placed her hand over his and stopped him. He glanced up at her with a questioning expression and she gave him a reassuring nod before opening the door herself and entering the crowded Drawing Room with her head held high.

"I do apologise for eavesdropping," Elizabeth said walking forward and glancing about the room innocently. Harry and the others entered quietly behind her, unaware that they appeared to be just as Moody had described. "But since the topic of the current conversation is me, I believe I'm to be forgiven shortly." She paused for a moment and searched the room. Finding an open armchair, she continued talking to no one in particular as she headed toward it, "I do dislike being talked about behind my back. It's very unpleasant and not-to-mention rude." She turned with a flourish and sat down in the armchair, soothing the wrinkles out of her jeans like they were expensive robes. Then she looked up and glanced around with a sincerely demure appearance. "So if one of you would be so kind as to fill me in as to what dramatic turn my life has taken now, I would greatly appreciate it," she said patiently, folding her hands primly in her lap.

Harry fought with great difficulty to keep a straight face as he looked around the room. Mrs. Weasley, who was positioned closest to the door and had been about to serve the others tea as a silver tea set was now hovering at the tip of her wand, looked to have been caught with her hand in one of Honeydukes' candy bins; her face was flushed as red as her hair. Mr. Weasley, Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley and Bill's mouths hung open extensively, so wide in fact that they all appeared as if they had swallowed live goldfish, and Professor McGonagall's eyebrows were raised high enough that they appeared non-existent. It seemed no one in The Order had been prepared for this side of Elizabeth. Moody was the only one who appeared indifferent to her polite bluntness as his magical eye followed Harry's progress into the room.

Harry inwardly hid a sigh of relief. He had been preparing himself for a thorough telling off but it appeared Elizabeth had successfully turned the tables on the members of the Order. Unbelievably, she had made it sound as if they had slighted her by not inviting her to their meeting.

"Kind of uppity, aren't you, girl?" Moody huffed from a nearby chair. "Bah, young people these days have no respect for their elders," he grumbled, thumping his peg leg against the wooden floor suddenly. "Like her mother, you say. Codswallop. I'd say she has more Sirius than anyone else."

"How much of our conversation did you hear, Elizabeth?" asked Lupin calmly, recovering quickly at Moody's words.

"Pretty much everything," responded Elizabeth smoothly. "Or at least beginning from the part about those bloody, caring witches and wizards that allowed me to waste away at the orphanage."

Mrs. Weasley's face turned an even darker shade of red and with one angry swipe, she vanished the tea set. "Don't you feign injury with me, Elizabeth Fairchild. You know very well you shouldn't have been listening at the door. The matters of The Order are not for underage witches and wizards and that happens to include you."

"True," answered Elizabeth, appearing to be not the slightest bit remorseful. "But technically, I'm not an underage witch, now am I? Not with all these voices swimming around my head. I believe with their presence I'm the oldest one in the room."

Harry positioned himself behind Elizabeth's chair in a firm sign of support as Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to object once more. "Do you really think she won't find out eventually like I did?" he protested bitterly, trying to keep his resentment under control. "Does underage really matter? You might as well tell her now while she's prepared for it."

"And you're so sure she's prepared for it, boy?" challenged Moody, pinning him with both eyes.

Harry didn't hesitate with his answer. "Yes. It couldn't be any worse than finding out the truth when you least expect it," he said defiantly. "It's not like we're normal underage witches and wizards anyway." He continued indicating Ron, Hermione, Malfoy and Ginny standing behind him, "We've been through more than most wizards your age. We shouldn't have to eavesdrop for bits of information about our own lives. If whatever has happened affects any of us in any way, we should know about it."

"Personally, I agree, Harry."

Harry turned his head toward Lupin who was silently standing next to Elizabeth's chair now. "You may not need to know all the facts, I stand firm with Molly in that respect, but you do require enough information to keep yourself alert and safe." He glanced toward Ron, Hermione, Malfoy and Ginny, who had yet to fully enter the room. "You may all have a seat if it is acceptable to the present members of the Order," he looked around briefly and was slowly greeted with nods of approval from everyone except Mrs. Weasley. "Especially you, Molly," he smiled at her sadly, "I understand a mother's instinct to keep her children safe is very powerful. It is something I would never belittle or challenge. But you must understand, whether you want to accept it or not, their safety has already been comprised by just being who they are. They did not ask for this danger but in a sense they inherited it from all of us. And we must do everything within our power to inform and train them to meet what lies ahead." He looked at Harry briefly. "Or they might be forced to search out other means of protection, both from known and unknown sources."

Harry got the distinct feeling Lupin knew exactly what they had been doing in the exercitium room and he shifted uneasily on his feet. He remembered the last time Lupin had supported his right for information and his heart gave a slight twinge of guilt. Sirius had been with him. What would his Godfather say now if he knew Harry and his daughter were trying to learn the dark arts? Sirius had hated everything to do with dark magic.

"Whether we like it or not, it is our duty," Lupin finished quietly. "We have no real choice in the end."

Mrs. Weasley's lips trembled and her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she slowly looked over the young group, her eyes resting on Ginny and Ron. Harry thought for a moment she would deny Lupin's gentle but firm request, but then she slowly covered her trembling lips with her hand and nodded her quiet acquiescence as Mr. Weasley put his arm around her and murmured words of comfort under his breath.

"Thank you, Molly," Lupin said gently, pulling out an envelope from the front pocket of his robes. "It's for the best." He handed Elizabeth the envelope. "This arrived for you today, Elizabeth. We were trying to sort it all out before making you aware but it seems there is little to do unless you decide to defy the ministry's request. Remember, we will support whatever decision you make."

Elizabeth gazed curiously at the envelope in her hand for a moment before she tentatively broke the seal and read the letter aloud:

Dear Ms. Fairchild,

We have received intelligence that you are an alleged Chime and

have the rare magical abilities of healing and magical sight. These cap-

abilities have yet to be legally declared and registered with Ministry of

Magic's Registrar office.

Due to this severe lack of contention and subsequent testing to veri-

fy said magical abilities under section 7 of the International Confedera-

tion of Wizard's Statue of Magical Declaration, Decree for Unusual Magi-

cal Abilities, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a

disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 11 A.M. on the 22^nd of

March.

Hoping this letter finds you well,

Yours Sincerely,

Constance VanHoot

REGISTRAR OFFICE

Ministry Of Magic

As Elizabeth finished, there was an immediate uproar of protest.

"They can't do that! It's outrageous!" shouted Hermione.

"Have they gone bloody mad?" protested Ron.

"But that unfair! She didn't know," said Ginny, red-faced.

"There's no way in hell she's going!" growled Harry. "I've experienced Fudge's idea of a disciplinary hearing before."

Elizabeth raised her hands in a subtle request for silence and gazed questioningly up at Lupin. "Does this mean I'm to be detained in Azkaban for being a Chime?" she asked quite calmly, though her hands were shaking a bit as she allowed the letter to fall quietly into her lap.

"No, of course not," said Lupin quietly. "The ministry is merely enforcing the Registrar Decree. Most likely, they will only test your abilities to insure what has been reported is accurate. Once that's been done, you'll be registered and allowed to return Hogwarts with the others on the 25^{th of} this month."

"So why is Professor Dumbledore becoming involved if it's that simple?" asked Elizabeth, unconvinced. "What is it that you're not telling me, Remus?"

Lupin hesitated and he took a deep breath before continuing, "The Ministry is also seeking temporary guardianship under the guise of assuring your personal protection from Lord Voldemort," several people winced, "But that decision is pending further investigation of your grandmother's will."

"Which means?" prodded Elizabeth.

"In the end, there is a small chance you may not be allowed to return to Hogwarts with the others," said Lupin resignedly.

"But she's only just arrived this year?" protested Hermione loudly. "They can't just deny Elizabeth the right to a proper education. What about the Decree for the Proper Instruction of Underage Witches and Wizards. All Witches and Wizards are to receive thorough instruction for the proper use of their magical abilities. It's the Law! They can't change it!"

"You're right, Hermione. They can't," agreed Bill bitterly. "That is, not yet, anyway. But that's most likely the reason why some wizards in the ministry with close ties to St. Mungo's Research facility are trying to register Elizabeth under the title "Magical Creature" and not Underage Witch. That would allow them the right to study her abilities to a greater degree without the need for her consent."

"What?" shouted Ron and Ginny in unison.

"But they can't do that?" Hermione fiercely objected.

"Probably not. But they're definitely trying," said Bill disgustedly. "Several Research Healers from St. Mungo's have lodged formal arguments for the right to test Elizabeth's blood for the further advancement of wizard medical science. Their requests are contingent on the outcome of the hearing. Which..."

"That's quite enough, Bill," commanded Mrs. Weasley in a warning tone. Bill slowly let out a deep breath as if mentally squelching the rest of his words then gave his mother a short nod of understanding.

"And if I choose not to go to the hearing?" asked Elizabeth quietly.

"Then unfortunately, you will be labelled an official W.U.M.A., Witch of Unknown Magical Abilities, and the ministry will issue an official notice for your immediate detainment," said Mr. Weasley grimly. "Which will legally ban you from Hogwarts or any other school of magic."

Elizabeth allowed a short, bitter laugh. "At least I would still be considered a witch, wouldn't I?" She paused. "Only I would also be hunted, not just by Voldemort but by the ministry as well... like my father was. How ironic, my life is." she said sadly.

"Don't give up hope so easily, Elizabeth," said Lupin, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Professor Dumbledore's bound to come up with something."

"And you've got us," said Harry encouragingly, squeezing her other shoulder.

"Of course, you do, Elizabeth," said Hermione, leaning over to grasp her hand and offering a teary smile. "Always."

The room fell silent for several minutes as no one really knew what else to say to make the situation sound less bleak. The ministry had made a fine mess, it seemed, once again.

Then Malfoy cleared his throat suddenly, cutting the resonating silence.

"Actually, in reality, it's not much of a problem, Elizabeth. The ministry can't legally obtain guardianship or keep you from Hogwarts," he said reluctantly, leaning over onto his knees as bracing himself against his own words.

The room slowly one by one turned to stare at Malfoy, who shifted uneasily under Moody's sudden intense gaze. He visibly swallowed and glanced at Elizabeth who had gone suddenly very still.

"Well, spit it out, boy," growled Moody impatiently. "Go on."

Malfoy nodded briefly avoiding Ginny's sudden gaze. "Because, you see," he continued slowly, "I am all ready your legal guardian."