Shadow's Truth

The dinning room was quiet as the group entered and took seats around the large rectangular, mahogany table. Hermione had not said so much as a word to them since the comment had been made that she should get together with Marcus. Draco and Ginny seemed to be completely ignoring Hermione, while Marcus seemed more content with just watching every interaction between the group. They were not your average group of friends, and it befuddled Marcus to no end on how they managed to remain friends through the years.

For years they had learned necromancy in secret from the other Hogwarts students; they had spent hours pouring over large, old books absorbing as much information as they could possibly obtain in their late night study sessions in the library. If it were not for Professor Snape, they would never have gained access to the Dark Arts textbooks they needed to learn necromancy. Snape had, with permission from Dumbledore, told Madam Pince to allow the group of friends access to the textbooks needed to make sure his daughter could not lose control of her necromancy and inadvertently raise the dead, or control one of the school ghosts.

Now, thirteen years later they had to use that very knowledge to cure the wizarding world of a plague and end their strife with a creature no one has seen. Marcus was truly grateful that he had the opportunity to learn the Dark Arts when he was in school and that it was now a benefit and not something to be thrown into Azkaban for.

He watched as Hermione pushed the food around on her plate, glaring every now and again at the others. He had never really cared to get to know her; she was a muggle-born after all. Hermione Granger had never been any sort of eye candy in school, and even though she had grown up in the last several years, he had never thought of her as anything more than a muggle-born. Now that he was forced to work closely with her, he might as well get to know her; though, that can wait until we leave, Marcus thought to himself and turned his attention to Draco and Ginny.

Draco had been a long time family friend, and it had been a shock to learn that he wouldn't be joining his father as a Death Eater. Draco Malfoy had turned against his father and upbringing in the end and joined Dumbledore. Marcus had often speculated as to why someone would chose to fight for the losing side; but in the end Draco had made the correct decision leaving Marcus to run or risk a fate worse than death. Even now, Marcus had to wonder what had possessed Draco to chose fighting along side those he called 'friends'.

Ginny Weasley had never struck Marcus as a girl who would capture a Malfoy's heart, but she had managed to do so. Though, he didn't know how long the two had actually been a couple, and even then he didn't believe the relationship would last long. She was after all, a muggle-loving witch and Draco Malfoy was a pureblood raised by pureblood standards; they'd never last. All the years they had spent studying, practising and using the Dark Arts could only hold a relationship together for so long; though Marcus knew very little about Ginny, he didn't believe she had anything in common with Draco. She may be a pureblood, but she's a Weasley; what can she offer Draco? Marcus mused, shifting his gaze to Terence and Lenna.

Watching Lenna and Terence was like having a flashback. The two sat side by side, holding each other's hand. Marcus had known Terence since they were children; they confided in one another and knew every secret there was to know. Marcus had known how much Terence had cared about their childhood friend, and when she was sorted into Ravenclaw and he in Slytherin, Marcus had took to teaching his young friend the ropes of the house while keeping Lenna a part of their lives. The three had grown up together, spent summers together, Christmas, and birthdays; were stung by bees or attacked by garden gnomes. They caused trouble together, getting into playful brawls, and sneaking off on the families' large properties. But things changed, Terence fell in love with Lenna and Marcus was forced to break a promise he vowed to keep.

"Marcus, may I have a word with you?" Lenna questioned, turning her attention away from Terence.

If there was any woman, aside from his mother, that Marcus ever feared it would be Lenna. Having known her so long, Marcus knew that the conversation the two were about to have wasn't going to be an easy one. They would get angry at one another, he'd raise his voice, and she'd turn into a miniature version of her father. He knew what she was going to say; he knew she didn't want him there with them, she had made that as clear as the morning sky. There was fire in her brutal honesty and he respected her for that. She was one of the few women he respected, not because she was a pureblood, or because her father had money; but because she spoke her mind and told him the truth even if it would hurt. Unlike those of his former house, she told him with compassion, with respect, and dignity that many lacked.

They left the dining room for the backyard. The sun was shinning brightly above them, the birds chirped happily, and the sound of running water caught his ear. They walked in no direction at all, until they came to a small trickling stream with a bridge across it.

Neither spoke for some time, just watched the water flow and listened to the wind rustle the tree tops.

Lenna released a sigh, catching Marcus' attention. He knew that she had come to the words she was looking for. She had always been like that, weighing what she was going to say. To her, Marcus knew, her words were worth their weight in gold and she would say nothing unless they were right to the point. Nothing she said would be worthless.

"Why are you here?" she questioned quickly, looking him in the eyes.

"Better by your side than in Azkaban," he replied.

"Always looking out for your own skin. Do you ever do something that doesn't benefit you, that benefits the greater population?"

"Nope, what good would that do me?"

She blinked, watching him closely. Marcus knew this was her way of checking his honesty. She would watch him, watch the way he moved, how he spoke, how he expressed his words. If she suspected he was lying, there would be trouble.

"You're hopeless!" she resigned, shocking Marcus. "If I knew I didn't need all the help I could get, I'd send your sorry excuse of an arse to Azkaban for wasting my time."

"Wasting your time? You called me away from food to talk, and now you don't want to talk. Who's wasting whose time?" Marcus grumbled, and turned to walk away.

"I want to know why you broke your promise. I want to know why you became a Death Eater. Not what some stupid letter told me, not what Terence told me. I want you to tell me. I want to hear it come from your lips," Lenna said.

"You know why, I don't see the point in telling you again. You aren't a stupid girl, use your brains."

"Marcus, this is not up for discussion. You will tell me, or you'll go to Azkaban. I have no problem sending a Death Eater to their fate." There was no emotion in her voice, simply a neutral calm.

"You were once set against sending people to Azkaban, thinking it made them worse than what they were like before going in there," Marcus replied.

"Things change, people change. You, after all, promised you would never ever become a Death Eater."

"I'm going back inside now. This is a pointless discussion, one we don't need to have."

"We do need to have it. If you think I'm going to go off on some journey without knowing I can trust you, you can think again. I am not leaving this house until I have the answers I want," Lenna snapped and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Fine!" he said angrily, turning to face her.

"What was the benefit of betraying your friends, of going over to the losing side? What benefit does an outlaw have that a free man doesn't? You of all people, Marcus, have always weighed your benefits against your losses."

"It was betray you or betray my family. Personally, I think I'd rather have my inheritance."

"If it weren't for my father, I'd have no family except my friends. Your parents are dead, Marcus. You're a man on the run from the law. The only thing keeping you out of Azkaban are your 'friends'. So what was the right choice: money, or friendship? Money runs out, when you have none of that left, what will you have?"

"People die, people leave. Money runs out, friendships are lost. It doesn't matter what you have, it all runs out sometime."

"True friends don't. True friends stick together through thick and thin. What are you but another greedy, self-centred, arrogant..."

"You know, you're still cute when you get angry. No wonder Terence keeps things from you. Are you this feisty in bed?" Marcus chuckled and caught her incoming punch. "Not very lady-like of you."

"How's this for lady-like?" she questioned as she brought her knee to his groin.

Marcus toppled over in pain, holding himself as he tried to gasp for air. Why he ever expected her to act like a normal Ravenclaw was beyond him; of course, he had always known she was a better Slytherin than Ravenclaw.

"You...you're just like your mother!" He growled as soon as the pain subsided.

Lenna's eyes narrowed, her hands balled into fists, her breath ragged with anger. She hated her mother; Marcus knew that. She hated everything that had to do with her mother. To her, she had no mother. Her mother died the day her grandmother was tortured to death. Her mother had turned into just another Death Eater when her father was tortured.

"I am nothing like that sociopath!" Lenna said hatefully through tight lips.

Marcus laughed. "You are more like her than you know."

"Shut up! I am not!" Lenna took a step back away from Marcus. He wasn't the same Marcus she grew up with; that Marcus would never have said such a hurtful thing, not to her.

"You're afraid of the mere mention of her?" he asked, puzzled at the new discovery. "You're afraid of a dead Death Eater, yet you were not afraid of the mention of Voldemort. How?"

"She's not dead," Lenna said matter-of-factly. "She's very much alive, and a torment to my life still."

That's it darling; make him think your crazy. You are after all hearing a dead woman's voice in your head. Lenna heard her mother's voice in her head, and quickly turned her back on Marcus to hide the fear and shock she knew was in her eyes.

"Your in denial," Marcus said simply, leaning on the rail of the bridge. He was quickly becoming bored with their conversation. "If we're finished here, I think I might still be able to get a bite to eat before we leave."

"Marcus, if I ever ask you to believe just one thing I say, it would be that she's not dead. You don't know what she's capable of. She'll make the world believe her dead, and when the time is right she'll reveal the truth. Until then, she'll hide away; she'll find her ways to communicate with the outside world. In doing so, she'll haunt us until she is ready," Lenna said softly almost afraid to continue speaking.

Lenna could hear the laughter from her mother; she could hear every word of disbelief seep through the invisible cord that allowed Aleena to enter her mind. She knew Marcus would never believe her, that he would think her crazy when she was speaking truthfully.

She turned to look at Marcus, revealing her sincerity and fear. She wanted nothing more than to have her head empty of her mother's vile words.

"Please believe me," she whispered desperately, but the laughing in her mind was getting louder.

Her hands quickly clasped to her ears, as if hoping that would help the noise. Tears slipped past her eye lids, and she fell to her knees. Her body shook with sobs and silent whispers of prayer to make the voice go away, to give her a moment alone in her own head again. She pressed her hands harder against her head, and rocked back and forth as if the simple movement might help.

"Get out of my head," Marcus heard her whisper. He heard her cry, cry for Terence, for her father, for anyone that would make the laughter go away. He knew that Terence or Snape weren't coming to help her; and really he had no idea what to do to help her. Crying women were better left alone, better left for someone else to deal with. If she went mad on him, he would most certainly end up in Azkaban and the wizarding world in chaos and death. He wouldn't allow himself to go to Azkaban, and she was the only option he was given for a normal life.

Kneeling in front of her, Marcus set his hand on her shoulder and used the other to raise her chin to look him in the eyes. Any show of compassion was rare, but in this case it was called for, unless he wanted to end up like her.

"Lenna?" he questioned, hoping that the distant look in her eyes would be replaced with the angry, proud woman that was standing before him giving him hell a moment ago. "Can you hear me?"

No answer came as he watched her rock back and forth in front of him. He was getting frustrated with the unresponsiveness from the sobbing woman clutching at his robes in desperation. Any signs of Lenna Snape, the woman he grew up with, and fought with, were lost in the black abyss of temporary insanity. He could see a flicker of life behind her eyes, but not of her own, of a woman he had believed to be dead.

"Lenna, I can't help you, but without you I go to Azkaban, and I won't go there." Marcus seethed, "if believing you will keep me from that fate, then I believe you."

Nothing. Not a single sign that she had heard him. Not a single sign that she had been able to regain her composure and forget about the fit she had had; nothing but a blank stare and more tears.

"Damn it woman, pull yourself together!" He growled before he heard a cackle behind him.

Turning his attention away from Lenna, he found a wispy figure standing behind him. He knew the ghostly shape; he knew her and he hated her.

"Yes, child, pull yourself together. You have a world to save." The figure laughed. "She's a worthless, pathetic excuse of a daughter. You'll do yourself well to kill her and be rid of her."

"I will do nothing of the sort. The dead have no control over the living. Besides, she'll make me a free man again," Marcus replied simply.

"She'll do nothing of the sort. You belong to me now, boy, don't you go forgetting that. You will do as I say and kill her," Aleena hissed, her wispy figure swaying in the gentle breeze.

"He doesn't need to do what you say." Marcus turned to find Lenna pulling herself to her feet. He joined her and turned to look at Aleena.

"If you think I will do what you say, you have another thing coming. I stopped doing what you told me along time ago!" Marcus said calmly.

"You will, or you will die. Have you forgotten who makes your heart beat with life?"

"I have not, but I will find a way to remedy that problem and be rid of you," he said moments before he felt pain wash over him, bringing him to his knees, his hand grasping his chest as he tried to suck air in through his mouth. He could see Lenna trying to talk to him but couldn't make out the words.

"Marcus?" Lenna called, her hands on his shoulders. "Let him go!"

"Or you'll do what?" Aleena laughed, her hands turning a green hue.

"Marcus," she turned her attention back to him. "Don't you dare die on me."

"I don't think I get an option," he replied in raspy voice. "Believe me, I don't want to die."

Lenna laughed. "No, I suppose you wouldn't. You have too many lives to torment. If I can help it, I won't let you die. I want my friend back, and I don't want to regret not getting the chance to tell him how much I miss him."

"You may just get that chance but..." Marcus began to say before slipping into unconsciousness.

Lenna refused to start crying; instead she did the only thing she truly knew how to do. She was a medi-witch and taking care of the sick and dying was her job. Her hand reached out to check his pulse, and found he was still breathing. Sighing with relief she glared at her mother.

"What did you do to him?" She questioned harshly.

"He is dying. He drank a poison nine years ago. If I had not kept him alive for this long, he would have died that night." She smiled coldly.

"Release him from your spell. Let him die, put him out of his misery. Even you are not this cruel. Death would be better for him; even then you could control him."

"And give you the chance to use the same spell, I think not. I will not lose him to you."

"You will anyway if he dies. I will make sure he is never disturbed from his resting place. You will never have control of Marcus again; do you hear me? Marcus will be free, and I will see to it that he is!"

"You are weak, you cannot take him from me even if you wanted to."

"What do you have to fear from a weakling then? Release him and let him die. You say I am weak, and cannot take him from you, then release him!"

"You have learned much from your father, but I will not hand Marcus over to you."

"I may have learned much from him, but more from you. Marcus will die either by your hand or by the poison that courses through his veins. You can only save him from his fate for so long."

"Are you volunteering for his position by my side?"

"I made no such proposal and I will never turn my back on my father," Lenna said calmly. She knew in her heart she would never leave her father's side, her loyalties lay with him, not her mother.

"Bitch!" her mother growled and Lenna heard Marcus groan in pain before the ghostly figure disappeared.

Lenna touched his cheek, he felt cold and clammy to the touch, and she knew he was dying. She knew her mother had released him to die as a way to hurt her. She leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"I promised you I wouldn't let you die. I always keep my promises, unlike you," she whispered and placed her hands on his chest.

She could feel the tug of death on her skin, the creeping feeling of life slipping through her grasp. Death pulled at the deep core of her necromancy, drawing it from her body. Dark tendrils of magic seeped through her hands and were pushed deep into Marcus' body. Expanding, filling ever crevice, drawing the poison into an epicentre of green death. The poison solidified into a round orb of painful annihilation.

Mimicking the hand movements of grasping the orb, Lenna began to draw the circular object out of Marcus' body without causing further harm to him. She had only preformed the exact spell once before and in that case the person had been dead and removing a soul from a dead body was easier than removing a poison from a living person. She felt the skin split, and the orb rest in her hand. Lenna watched as the skin stitched itself back together, not a drop of blood spilt.

His chest began to rise and fall at a normal pace, and before long his eyes opened. He looked up at her, no word of thanks was needed. He took in the glazed look in her eyes, and the cold touch of her skin as a bad sign.

"You all right?" he questioned her, but was given no answer as she collapsed on his chest. "Apparently not."