Shadow's Truth

Harry Potter and the Shadow's Truth

By Leanne

Chapter Five:

She slept peacefully through the night, hardly moving or whimpering in her sleep as Terence had presumed she would. He had spent most of the night drifting in and out of sleep while watching her rest. An hour ago, he had slipped into the bed to grab a few hours of comfortable sleep while his old love slept beside him. Terence knew quite well that when Lenna woke up she'd yell and scream and throw another childish temper tantrum because he 'knew full well' she didn't want him in her bed. He smiled at the thought, and closed his eyes again.

The bed creaked as he felt movement beside him. Lenna had rolled over and her eyes shot open when her hand landed on bare skin that wasn't her own. Startled, and a little freaked out, she jumped out of bed and stared down at her bed. Terence laid there, eyes open, and chuckling, while she fumed.

"What in the name of Merlin are you doing in my bed!" she yelled at him, her hands resting on her hips. Her eyes bugged out when she felt soft silk under her palms and glanced down at her sleeping attire. "Never mind that, who the hell changed me? It had better not have been you, Terence Higgs!"

Terence laughed harder at her outburst. "No, I did not change you, love. I had asked Madam Pomfrey to come and check on you an hour after you fell asleep. I laid out something more comfortable, and flattering, I might add, for her to change you into."

"You're sick! You just picked out this horribly skimpy thing because you bought it for me six years ago! I hate this thing! I am not yours anymore, Terence. You had no right!"

After storming out of the room, Lenna slipped into the common room she shared with her father and gasped when she found it full. Hermione and Ginny sat comfortably on the sofa while Draco took up a seat in the armchair across from her father. She had one of two options: return to the bedroom and deal with Terence while she found something better to wear, or join them in the silky black lingerie, neither of the two she wanted. What she wanted was a hot bath, a change of clothes, and every one to get the hell out of her personal space.

"Are you going to stand there all day dressed like a Playboy Owl, or are we going to have this meeting?" Draco sneered, watching crimson wash over Lenna's face and chest.

"Actually, Malfoy, I'm going to go take a long, hot, steamy bath, get dressed, have some breakfast, and then I might join you all down here," Lenna retorted, in spite of what Draco had said. Sure she was blushing, but who wouldn't if they found themselves in her situation?

"Make it quick. I don't have all day!" Draco seethed, his hands lightly gripping the arm of the chair as he shifted his weight to lean more on his left side.

"You're the one that showed up here yesterday and demanded I attend this meeting. If I'm so damn important to whatever plan you have, you can just bloody wait until I'm finished. I didn't ask for you to come here, nor did I ask for this meeting. Now,"--she began to head for the door-- "if you'll excuse me, I have things to do!"

Lenna walked out of the room, leaving behind, she was sure, a none too happy Draco Malfoy and a bewildered Hermione and Ginny, not to mention the fact that she had left Terence sprawled out on her bed, and ignored her father completely. She felt like she was being rude to her father, and quite frankly, probably embarrassed him as much as she had herself. After all, he was the head of the Snape family, and she had just sauntered into a room filled with people in nothing more than slinky cloth covering her unmentionables.

"What's got your knickers in a knot, babe?" the ghost of her mother said as she appeared looking back at her through the mirror in the washroom.

"Go away you psychotic bitch! I don't have time for you!" Lenna cursed as she ran hot water into the tub. She was already fuming from her morning wake up call, and now she was seeing her dead mother's ghost again, which should have been impossible.

"You're the one talking to a mirror-- and you say I'm the psychotic one." Aleena chuckled lightly. "Did he tell you the truth?"

"Yes," Lenna replied simply and slipped into the hot soapy water, and closed her eyes.

"And, how did you react?"

"I wanted to kill him, like I stood there and watched them kill you. I wish it had of been my hand, my wand, my spell, that took your life. Watching your death was satisfying, but killing you would have been even better."

"Ah, the joys of killing. My dear daughter, you are becoming more like me everyday."

Sighing, Lenna sunk under the water relishing in the utter silence the water gave, even with the ambience of her mother's incessant banter. Again, her mother had said she was more like a psychotic maniac, and she was beginning to believe it. Who in their right mind actually wanted to commit murder? She had wanted so badly to feel the warm sticky crimson liquid run cool on her fingers, to feel the flesh tearing under her nails, and the bones crack under stress; but she had never thought of herself as a psychotic murderer before. As long as her thoughts were like that, she really didn't want to help Hermione, Ginny and Draco. All she really wanted was to be normal again.

Her head was spinning with thoughts and memories of her past, of the night her mother was killed, the night when Voldemort had been destroyed, the night she witnessed Albus Dumbledore's body slump to the ground in grim defeat, and watched the Dark Lord take his head as a trophy. She had watched Harry fight against the three masked Death Eaters, holding him as he tried to save the Headmaster of Hogwarts from his fate. She had done nothing, because she couldn't, because she was terrified of what she was and what she could do. It still terrified her.

Coming up for breath, Lenna found herself alone in the bathroom. No voices of dead mothers, no apparitions of great annoyance, no one but herself in the dark wood room. She washed herself in quiet resolution.

You could have saved them, you know, her mind whispered as it had a million times before. You had the power within you, all you had to do was use it.

"No, no I couldn't. I could only raise the dead and watch their bloody bodies get hacked to bits by scared Death Eaters. They were my classmates, my Professors, they were members of the Order, and I knew them all the same. I would never condemn them to die a second time. Hearing them scream once is enough; I could not bear it a second time," she cried, standing up and watching the beads of water rush to her feet.

Stepping out she looked at herself in the mirror, her face pink from the warmth of the water, her black hair soaked, and her eyes dark with remembrance. Still sickly thin, and deathly pale (aside from the rose in her cheeks), she was the same uncertain Lenna from so many years ago. She could brew a potion to cure an ailment, but she couldn't confront the ghosts of her past, she couldn't deal with what she was. Knowing that, she knew she couldn't be of any help to the people who had once trusted her for the right decision so many years ago.

Looking at the door, Lenna knew she had to confront her once long time friends with her decision. She wasn't, and couldn't possibly, help them if she couldn't accept what she was. As much as it pained her to let her friends down, she knew she had no other choice; there was no say in the matter, it was her fear that had cost so many lives that need not have died in the previous war against evil, and it was her fear that kept her from ever picking up a Dark Arts textbook again. It was fear of becoming a monster that lingers in the dark, waiting for its prey to step around the corner so it could feed. She didn't want to become a monster, or anything that could cause harm to others.

Sure she had been stupid in her teen years, but most teens were. Lenna had not thought things through, and it had cost lives-- too many for her liking. Now she was paying the price for being so naïve, paying the price for using the Dark Arts.

He warned you that the Dark Arts came with a price! her mind screamed at her, as if trying to will the twenty four year old woman to remember the words Damian Delacourt had told her.

"I know, I know he did and we were silly not to heed his words; now we pay penance to him!" she wanted to scream, but instead she slunk down and sat against the cold tile, not caring that she still hadn't grabbed a towel. "He was evil, how could we have known he was telling the truth?"

"We didn't," Ginny whispered as she stepped into the washroom. "Damian tricked us into believing he was something he wasn't. He was a perpetrator and we were his prey. He wanted us to fear him, and we, being silly little children, believe him. We should have feared him."

"Gin, you're not helping my mood any." Lenna wanted to yell, but her voice came out as a mere whisper.

"No, I suppose I'm not." Ginny smiled and grabbed a towel out of the cupboard and walked to Lenna. "We were children then, Lenna. We made choices that we never should have made, and it helped Harry in the end."

"Helped get him killed. I couldn't do anything, Ginny. I watched them die and I hid from it all. I couldn't raise my wand to speak a single spell, and the one thing I knew I could do, the one thing I was born as, I feared the most."

"Oh no you don't! I had to deal with Harry going all moody on us, so did Hermione, you are not about to go like that on us! I don't care what you could or couldn't do back then. There were a lot of people that couldn't do anything to help and they did the same thing! I knew you feared what you were, I knew quite well if you remember at all!" Ginny snarled and glared at Lenna.

"I remember," Lenna whispered and closed her eyes. "I remember."

"Good, now stand up so you can dry off before you catch your death!"

"You sound like your mother, you know that?" Lenna laughed, a real genuine laugh as she stood up.

Ginny handed Lenna the towel, and turned to find a bath robe to give her to cover up in until Henderson, Lenna's house elf, brought her clothes. Finding a fluffy blue one hanging on a hook near the door, Ginny grabbed it and turned around to face Lenna.

"I had Henderson grab you something comfortable to wear and then head off to the kitchen to get you something to eat. He said he'd have a place prepared for you in the Great Hall. Then we'll go out for a walk, if you feel up to it that is."

"I'm not a sick little child, Ginny. I may look sick, but I'm not."

"No, you just let your body go. Terence and Jonathan said you were hardly eating at St. Mungo's, and that you hadn't come up from your little hole in the ground. That's not like you, Lenna, what changed?" Ginny questioned, a look of concern in her eyes. She walked over to Lenna, who had put the robe on and sat down at the vanity in the corner of the bathroom.

"I didn't, the world did. There were too many dying at St. Mungo's. One after another, I had to do something, anything to ease their suffering. I watched my co-workers die slow and painful deaths, and I was left as the only Medi-witch alive. I had asked the Ministry to spare some more medi-witches, but was told we were out in the middle of 'ground zero' and that no medi-witch would come near the place. It was only me, I had tried to train some of the young witches and wizards to help me, but they too seemed to pass away," Lenna explained, watching Ginny in the mirror.

"Brush," Ginny requested, still listening to Lenna. "That's no excuse to stop eating or sleeping," she chided her friend.

"No, I suppose not," Lenna replied, handing Ginny the brush. "But, it was the choice I made. In the final stages of the toxin the patient becomes agitated, they want out of the bed and to see the world one last time, but it's the last stage that is contagious. They convulse, vomit, and run high fevers, they can't be left alone for very long or they'll try and make an escape attempt. If I had more people to help, I could have taken care of myself better."

"Dad told us that they were getting reports from the St. Mungo's district with updates on the toxins. I never thought it was you writing them. You should write a paper or publish a book on what you've learned. You could help a lot of people with your knowledge," Ginny stated and noted the scowl on Lenna's face from the comment. "Think about it, how many people will have to deal with the after effects of the toxins? How many people might still have it when all of this is over? Your paper or book could at least help them understand what they have and what will happen to them."

"I don't know the cause for it, or the cure; but I plan to find out. Ginny, my best friend is lying in the Hospital Wing dying from the toxins, and she's already lost her son to it, what help can I be, if I can't find a cure? I spent three years in solitary down there with the sick and dying, and the years before on the surface dealing with what I could. If I could pray to some god or goddess to help us, I would. Believe me, Ginny, I would. I wish I could do more, I wish I could find a cure. The only thing I've found is that the burning of the dead bodies helps to eliminate some of the toxins," Lenna continued to explain, though if Ginny knew of the reports she had sent to the Ministry, she was sure Ginny knew more than she was letting on. "Tell me what you're research found, please?"

"I'm not sure what I found. I was in Tibet, studying their ways, when Hermione informed me of what was going on back home. I had wanted to help anyway I could. Hermione told me to stay put for a while, and I searched around the area to see if there was any sign of this Shadow, or if it was just affecting home. Tibet was unaffected by the toxins and by the Shadow. I presumed it was some kind of magic they had, but when I asked about the Dark Lord's reign they asked me whom I was talking about. The Dark Lord never thought of using the people in Tibet for his grand scheme. I came home a week after receiving Hermione's theory. We discussed it with Draco, as none of us were allowed near St. Mungo's and we weren't allowed to send mail either. Only the Ministry was allowed contact with those working at St. Mungo's," Ginny began. "So we held our information until we could get to you guys. I searched the other camps, I saw the effects the toxins had, but only a brief glimpse of it. So I waited, and hoped I could see this infamous Shadow. I found nothing, no sign of him. So I figured I'd try another route; find the Death Eaters who were still alive. I found Lucius, who was talking to a female in South Africa. The two were avidly discussing the effects the Shadow was having on Britain."

"What does this have to do with anything? Lucius is a sick bastard, we already know that," Lenna snapped.

"I'm getting to that if you'd just be patient!" Ginny laughed, as she twisted Lenna's hair into a messy bun. "Now, as I was saying, they were discussing the Shadow's effect. What they didn't know, was that I was listening. They went on to explain how and why it was created. The Dark Lord, as some of us presumed, created the Shadow. He searched the world over for things, evil things, and deadly things, to put in his creation. I'm not sure how he managed it, but some how he concocted this thing, and it's wreaking havoc just like he had planned. It was his backup plan, tied to his death. If he died, the thing would be released."

"Okay, so Voldemort created this thing, its toxins kill muggles and wizards a like, but how do we know it's just some dead thing like Hermione thinks?" Lenna questioned as the house elf appeared with her clothing. Changing quickly, Lenna looked at herself in the mirror and noticed that she was beginning to look almost human again, even if her clothes hardly fit.

"My, my, aren't we the inquisitive one today," Ginny laughed.

"Ravenclaw privilege!"

Still laughing, Ginny went on to continue how Hermione's theory fit in with the history of the Shadow.

"According to Lucius there was supposed to be someone watching this creation, controlling it. But they were killed, or so he thinks. He hasn't seen the woman since the night of the final battle." Ginny paused and watched realization dawn on Lenna's face. "As Aleena was the only known Necromancer among the Death Eaters, Lucius wasn't surprised the creature was running amuck in Voldemort's plan. If he finds out she's dead, he'll try to resurrect her. After that, I don't know much else. I left to report back to Hermione on what I had found." Her face turned serious again, as her friend paced the floor in the bathroom as she had done before when they were younger.

"So, the Shadow is death, not just dead, but Death. We have never thought of Death taking corporal form. I don't think we can fight this, I don't think we have the knowledge to, not right now at least," Lenna sighed and walked to the door. "I'll need my books... but for now lets see what Hogwarts has to offer us.. Go get Hermione, Draco and Terence, and I'll meet you up there with Jonathan."

"No, you need to eat!" Ginny growled and grabbed Lenna's child sized wrist.

"Listen, I'll eat double at Lunch if it'll make you happy, but right now we need to get upstairs. We don't have time to worry about my health; we need to find out what can defeat the creation of Death."

Sighing, Ginny gave into Lenna and walked out to go tell the others of what the new game plan was. She, however, never told them what Lenna had come up with, after all, it wasn't her place to inform the group of new information that wasn't hers to give.

Lenna slipped out of the washroom moments after Ginny had, and headed up to the Hospital Wing where she was sure to find Jonathan sitting with his wife. She was light-headed with all the information she had to sift through; Death, Voldemort, Lucius, some unknown woman, her mother, and finding the answer to their problem. She just wanted a break from it all, but she knew she wasn't going to be getting one. No, instead she was thrown right back into the world she had tried to forget she was apart of; in a world where she was a born Necromancer, and her friends were Learned Necromancers; where the dead could be controlled, and magic came with a price.

Hardly paying attention to where she was going, her feet knowing the direction to go for the shortest trip to the Wing, she thought of what she hoped to accomplish. What did she want to accomplish when she stepped into the Library after she found Jonathan? What had driven her there? Of course, she knew Hogwarts had the largest supply of Dark Arts and History tomes; she was sure something in the large quantity of books would have the answer to their dilemma. Which book it was exactly would take some time to locate, but she was going to find it.

As she stepped into the Hospital Wing, she smelt the stench of ages of decay lingering on the walls that she hardly remembered being there when she was a child attending Hogwarts. She could here the muffled cries of Isaac, and the whimpers on Jenna hidden in her corner, and the soft murmurs of Sarah trying to comfort them both. In that very moment, Lenna knew she had been neglecting her duty to her three survivors, and instead of staying like she had planned on when she arrived, she had thrust herself into finding a cure.

Her mind was stuck on the smell; decay, why did the Hospital Wing smell like decay? She had never smelt such a disgusting, distinctive smell, as she had as soon as the doors opened. The basement of St. Mungo's had it's own musky damp smell, but never a smell of rotting flesh. Could it have been because she had spent three years down in her little hole without smelling fresh air for so long, that she had never noticed the smell of death?

As she rounded the corner, she found Isaac's small body bandaged in what would have been white cloth, but now was yellowish grey with pus. His once soft blond hair was stringy and sweaty, and his cinnamon coloured eyes were dark with pain and longing. Lenna knew the longing was to see his mother, or a familiar face of family but he, like so many other children, was the last surviving member of his family. A smile crept on his pale sickly face as he saw Lenna and knew he was no longer alone in the unfamiliar room.

Walking across the room, Lenna took a seat on Isaac's bed and smiled pleasantly down at him. She wanted to save him more than any other child she had ever met, more than any child she had held in her arms and felt their last breath leave their bodies. Isaac was different. Isaac was sweet and innocent, alone, and dying even more because of it. She opened her arms and he crawled into them as if he were two again. Cradling him, she hummed a lullaby and watched him drift off into an uncomfortable sleep.

"Sleep well my little Isaac," Lenna whispered and lay his small body down and covered him with the white cotton sheet.

Turning, she met the watchful eyes of Madam Pomfrey, who was smiling all the same. Lenna greeted her old Medi-witch with a hug, and whispered something about having found some information that might help, but that she had to leave again to find it. She explained that she wanted Isaac and the others alive as much as possible for when she returned.

"It might not be today, or tomorrow, but we'll return, and hopefully with a cure," Lenna said carefully, not to divulge too much information to the elderly witch.

"Promise me you'll be careful," Poppy whispered, a tear glistening in her eye.

"I can't promise I won't get hurt, or that some of us might not return. I don't know where the information we've found will lead us, or what trouble will find us, but if it means saving the world, yet again, we'll do it."

"I know that my dear, but your father is not one to be reckoned with when it comes to your safety. If he finds out..."

"Poppy, my dear old Poppy, I'll make sure he understands where and what I'm doing. Or...at least as much as I'm willing to share with him." Lenna sighed and watched as Jonathan whispered a goodbye to his wife and made his way over to them. "I must be going Poppy, we'll be back as soon as we can. Please, take care of them. If you need anything, Henderson will be here to help you. He knows the schedule for the three of them. If Isaac asks where I am, tell him, I'm doing some fieldwork trying to help him. He'll understand that I've not abandoned him."

Lenna and Jonathan left, with Poppy saying that she would keep the three patients safe and well. The two walked in silence for the longest time, neither wanting to say what had always been apparently known. They would never be in time to save them. They would never have enough time to find the cure, brew it (if it was indeed a potion they needed), and administer it before one of the three passed on.

They stood outside the library and waited for Hermione, Draco, Ginny, and Terence -- who they were sure (as they'd checked inside already) were on their way. Ginny had been the first to arrive, followed shortly by the others. No one said anything as they entered, Lenna taking the lead, only because it was her idea to come to the library in the first place.

Standing inside the, dusty library, Lenna looked around. Nothing had changed. Towers upon towers of books lined the walls, and somewhere in that mass was the answer to the problem of Voldemort's creation.

Stopping to glance at Madam Pince, who was sitting with a book in her lap, her square shaped spectacles resting low on her nose, and her hands gripping the edge of the book.

"Good book?" Lenna questioned and watched the librarian jump. "You don't see many people in here anymore, do you?"

"No, I don't. What brings you lot back to Hogwarts?" Irma questioned the Alumni Students of '96/98.

"We need some information; can you arrange a table for us? Sort through any history or dark arts text with the reference to 'Death' as in the Muggle version of the Grim Reaper," Lenna explained, but still no one knew what she was talking about, and she hardly thought the librarian would allow her access to the Dark Arts texts without written permission from one of the Professors.

"Yes, yes of course," Irma replied, and with a flick of her wrist and a simple spell, the books began to shift throughout the library and pile themselves on three - no four - no five -- different tables near the back window.

The group released a unanimous groan, and begrudgingly walked to the table and sat down. Everyone, except Hermione that is, waited to find out what the heck was going on. Hermione was looking at the book titles: The Grim Reaper, 1678, How to Defy Death and Not Owe Him One Later and so on and so forth. She muttered something under her breath and sat down.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Draco insisted.

"Jeeze, aren't we the impatient one today." Lenna smirked, and rested her head on her left hand.

"Just tell us what's going on."

"Well, Malfoy, for your information, Ginny's given me an idea," Lenna began.

"I did?" Ginny said, confused by the statement.

"Yes, you were the one that said my mother, who is quite dead and in her grave, was to control the Shadow. That means one thing: she must be immune to its toxins. And if she is, so are we. We've studied everything she has, and now, somewhere in this lot of books, we're going to find the answer to the ancient question: How do you defy Death?" Lenna said and watched Hermione pick up the book by that title.

"We should start here then," Hermione stated and began sifting through the pages.

They began reading in quiet resolution; the only sound was that of pages being turned. Every now and again there was a disgruntled groan when there was no useful information found in the book one of them was reading. The stack of books grew larger on the empty table, while in the centre of the one they were sitting at held none. Book after book was discarded while they continued to read late into the afternoon. Missing lunch, and dinner, their stomachs grumbled every now and again, and soon, eyelids slipped shut and books fell to the table with a heavy thump.

Soon, the only two awake were Hermione and Lenna, who continued to ruffle through pages after pages of books and scattered parchment hoping to find some useful information. Even Hermione was becoming distraught by not finding anything; she began pacing the aisle of books while Lenna sat perched over Dark Wizards of the Dark Ages. She had read over something about Necromancers, grumbled and slammed the book shut to pick up another book.

"Found it!" Hermione said happily as she sat down at the table, waking the others with the noise of her book against the oak table.

"Found what?" Ginny mumbled, wiping sleep from her eyes.

"The answer! I don't believe I didn't think of this sooner. Honestly, I've read this a hundred times!" Hermione said excitedly, opening the book again and pointing to the page so that everyone could get a closer look. "Lethifolds are shadow like creatures that only come out at night and attack the sleeping. That's exactly what we've been dealing with. The Shadow only comes out when everyone is asleep, even though we have our patrols and guards."

"They're supposed to be rare, and they live in tropical areas, Hermione," Terence stated, pointing it out in the text.

"Did anyone else besides me forget that Lucius said the creature was to be controlled by a Necromancer?" Lenna said as she crossed her arms over her chest. "We don't have the complete answer, just another piece to the puzzle. We need more information, but I suggest we travel to some tropical area."

"I have relatives in Greece that might let us stay with them for awhile," Terence informed the group.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Draco stated abruptly, and stood.

Now that they had the answers they were looking for, or at least part of the answer, he was ready to return home and begin preparations for their travels. No one was sure where they were heading, or what plans they were going to have, all they knew was that somewhere in Greece they would hopefully find the answer to how Voldemort had created the Shadow, and then find out how to defeat it.