Music of the Night

Chapter Two: Aria

The woman added a few more words to her novel, trying to ignore the knocking on her door. "Damn solicitors," she muttered. Eventually, the knocking was so loud and obnoxious that she couldn't focus anymore. She got up and opened the door, only to shut it again.

She leaned her full weight against the door, trying to slow down her heart. She could feel pressure on the other side of the door. The woman glanced over to the mantle, to the pictures of her husband and daughter. Her daughter!

Casting a quick spell on the door that would postpone him for at least a few more minutes, she ran forward and grabbed the pictures of her child. She dashed upstairs, ripped open her closet, and quickly hid the pictures among the many robes that hung there. She sent her novel away with an owl. Jack would find it, that way. She started to Disapparate, but dropped her wand. It rolled under the bed! She got down on hands and knees scrambling, desperately trying to find her wand.

"I don't think so, my dear," came a cold, all-too-familiar voice. "You still haven't paid me in total."

The young woman got up and turned slowly, smiling a little. "Hello, Christopher. So nice to see you. I hear you've been growing in power."

The man grabbed her wrist tightly. "My name isn't Christopher anymore. Don't presume to call me by my childhood name. I am called Lord Grindelwald now. Even a traitor like you should know that."

"Master, please, I know I broke the bond of blood, but I love Jack. I'm happy now. I'm married, for Christ's sake!"

Grindelwald smiled slightly. "Yes, and I've heard you have a daughter. A child as pretty as you, from what I know. Attending her fourth year at Hogwarts, correct?"

"Yes, Master," the woman replied, shaking her head. Lord, please forgive me for the lies I'm about to tell. "She's a complete disappointment, though. No good at magic. She's almost a Squib. And, honestly, I don't know why she's so brainless. She can never remember anything, and she doesn't have anything in her mind. She may be pretty, but she's useless."

"Well, I suppose I can ignore her in those circumstances. Your husband, though , is too dangerous. Half human, half Dark Elf, and no way to sway him to his rightful side. I'll have to kill him. Where is he?"

"No! You can't hurt Jack!"

"I was always fond of you, my dear. If you come quietly, you'll escape most of the punishments I had planned for you."

"I'll never come. You can't make me. Not anymore."

Grindelwald smirked. "Oh? I can make you do just about anything. You just need the right impetus. Your life, and that of your child, in return for his."

"Never."

"Very well. I'll get it out of you. And then I'll make you join me again. You're the only one of your kind that hasn't joined me yet. You'll be the final clinch to my power."

"Not if I can help it." The woman closed her eyes, whispering quietly, "May child receive her birthright as one of our kind." She leapt for Grindelwald's wand, they were struggling for it, and she yelled, "Ignis!"

And the room burst into flames...

Hemera woke up, gasping for breath. She whimpered slightly, trying to gather her thoughts. "Please, just leave me alone," she whispered, beginning to cry. "Things have been going terribly. God, just help me..."

Voldemort's Fortress, 1997:

It had been a year since Diana had visited her parents in Azkaban. True, she didn't really know them that well, they were still her parents.

Her father, Gabriel, had lost a lot of weight in Azkaban, eventually catching some illness and dying. Her mother, Natasha, was also losing weight, and even some of her beauty. Years ago, she had been gorgeous. Now, she was simply lovely. They had both been very cold and very bitter about losing most of their magic to the Dementors.

Voldemort kept on promising to free Natasha, but Diana was getting pretty exasperated. How much longer would she have to wait? Honestly!

She had become a Death Eater to follow in her parents footsteps, but she had also joined for other reasons. Quiet, sweet Diana Lestrange desired power above all else. Power that she would get.

"Any news?" Sybelle asked. Diana shook her head, blowing on her oatmeal to cool it. "Are you worried?" Diana shook her head again. "Are you going to do anything but shake your head?" Diana shook her head one more time.

"Hey, girlies, anyone seen the new kid?" the other member of their group asked. Both Diana and Sybelle shook their heads. "I've heard she's completely nutters."

Sybelle snorted slightly. "Sounds like she'll get along with the other prisoners."

Diana cleared her throat. "Astrid, aren't there...Well, rumors about her?"

Astrid shook back her long red hair, laughing a little. "Like you wouldn't believe. Some say she and our Lord used to have a little something going on. Hint, hint..."

Diana glanced over to where Voldemort was sitting, eating some oatmeal. "Do you think she could get in our way?"

Sybelle's blue eyes flashed brightly, and she sucked in a quick breath. "Maybe. She could be big trouble, if she gets too close to him. Oh, God, the possibilities, though...We could...Oh, yes, that would be good, or that, that would be..."

"You're right, Syb," Astrid muttered. "She could be useful. But you know, first we need to decide who we're going to throw at him. Which one of us?"

"You're thirty-seven, Astrid, the oldest of us all. You're closest to our Lord's age," Sybelle suggested.

"But we could try to push your power at him," she argued. "After all, who do you think Lord Voldemort would rather go for? An old hag like me or a twenty-five year old diviner?"

"Or..." Sybelle's big blue eyes glanced over at the youngest group member. "Diana, you're eighteen years old, so there would be one hell of an age difference, but you're also definitely the prettiest. After all, he's immortal. What's he going to care about a few decades?"

"No, Syb. I don't want to go after him. He's...Well, I'd prefer it if one of you went after him. Astrid..."

"No! I've got my eye on Lucius!"

"Sybbie..."

"No, no, no, I like the prisoners!"

"But I don't want to act like a slut in front of the Dark Lord!" Diana whined.

Sybelle's eyes flickered back over to Voldemort, now drinking a cup of wine. "The new girl could be useful...Yes, indeed..."

"You'll never destroy Hogwarts!" Harry yelled. "Never! Do you hear me?"

Voldemort smirked. "Oh? 'I believe I already have. Dumbledore is in hiding, most of the students are cowering back home, and I have you in my grasp. My Death Eaters have completely taken the castle over. As they say in chess, my young friend, 'Checkmate'."

Harry glared at him, hot rage surging through his body. He struggled at his bonds, only inciting more laughter from the Dark Lord. "Your Death Eaters can swarm the castle halls, you can turn it into a Dark Arts school, you can take the castle apart piece by piece, but you'll never take away what Hogwarts means! Never! Dumbledore's stronger than you think! And I'll fight back, too, for all of my life, no matter how short that may be! Hogwarts will stand much longer than you ever can, you bastard! You'll never destroy it, because you're not strong enough!"

The smile on Voldemort's face was quickly replaced by a very ugly look, twisting his handsome features. "Oh? Oh. Well, perhaps we should see how your vision of Hogwarts stands up to this." He pointed his wand at the castle, smiled again, and yelled, "Ignis!"

The castle burst into flames.

"No!" Harry yelled. "No! There are still people in there!"

"Exactly," Voldemort hissed.

"No!"

"Help! Someone, help, please!" came a cry from the castle. Harry recognized the voice with a jolt. Little Colin Creevy, who had constantly followed him around with a camera, begging for pictures. "Help! Fire!"

"Colin!" Harry yelled. "Colin! No!"

"Harry! Help, please!"

The anguished cries of the trapped students and teachers grew fainter and fainter as Harry struggled against his bonds. Several times during the night, Death Eaters came up to the two men, asking if the Lord would be leaving yet. Every time, Voldemort would quietly reply, "No. I want him to see this. I want him to see it burn to the ground. And I think I need to see this."

And so, as the sun finally rose over the horizon, staining the sky red with blood, the ashes of the castle and people were blown away with the wind. In the dim light, Harry almost thought he saw something wet on Voldemort's face. But that was impossible. It was completely dry outside. It was probably just the tears blurring Harry's vision.

Harry rolled over in bed, wiping his eyes. He was the only one of the prisoners who had seen Hogwarts burn. How could he share what it was like? They would never understand.

Sometimes he wished he could just give up.

Hemera plopped in a seat at one of the breakfast tables, smiling slightly as oatmeal appeared in front of her. It was a good thing her door had been unlocked in the morning. "Smells nice," she muttered. "And I'm too hungry to ignore it." She took a huge bite. "Mmmm, pretty nice. No, I correct myself. Very nice."

"Hullo."

Hemera yelped slightly, turning around suddenly. "Who are you?" she asked the dark-haired girl behind her.

"Diana Lestrange, Miss, and have I got a deal for you. I could show you around, introduce you, other things like that. All I ask in return is friendship, maybe a few favors-"

"No."

"Just the friendship, then?"

"You're a Death Eater, right?"

"Yes."

"Then, in that case, I suppose the answer is...No."

Diana's dark eyes got even bigger. "Okay. Sure." She walked off, and Hemera resumed her eating in peace, trying to find some sign of the other prisoners.

Her breakfast was yet again interrupted, this time by a loud crash. "Oh, Mr. Malfoy, I'm so sorry, you know I didn't mean to do that, you know me, Astrid's little buddy, I'm so sorry, sir, please don't hurt me, I'm sorry!"

"Lestrange!"

"I'm sorry!" Diana squeaked, her wide eyes fixed on the floor. Lucius Malfoy was standing right in front of her, cranberry juice dripping all over him.

"Lestrange, I've been much too lenient in the past! This time, you die!" Lucius brought out his wand, then looked up again, only to see two girls instead of one.

"Lucius, leave her alone. She's just a kid, and she tripped."

"Hemera MacNessa. I heard you were here. So, tell me, who-I mean, what are you doing?" The slip of the tongue was just obvious enough to be an insult.

"Oh, nice one, Lucius. Where'd you get it? A garbage dump? Stinks almost as much as you do."

Lucius gripped his wand, bringing it up to point at Hemera's chest. "Remember, woman, in this place, I rule. They may say Voldemort is the Dark Lord, but I have him wrapped around my finger. What I say goes."

"You say woman like it's an insult."

"Believe me, here, it is."

She smirked a little. "One more word, Lucius, and I'm pulling out the chipmunks. You like chipmunks, don't you, Lucius?"

The tall blonde blushed ever so slightly, sniffed, and walked away, muttering, "Not worth my time anyway...Righteous little bitch...mumblemumblegrumble..."

Diana looked at Hemera gratefully. "Thanks. He...umm...he scares me a little. Scares just about everyone."

"Well, he's an obnoxious jerk. Imagine, picking on someone not even half his age!"

The younger woman smiled shyly. "Do you want to sit with me and my friends?"

Hemera glared a little and started to walk away. "No!"

In a darkened hollow, lit only by a few neon lava lamps, stars glowing on the ceiling, a young dragon was adjusting his typewriter. How should he work on his dream? Where would he even begin?

Draco loaded paper into his typewriter, trying to organize his thoughts. "Okay, let's see here...How should I start?" After thinking a while, he grinned and started typing.

The Opera ghost really existed. He was not, as was long believed, a creature of the imagination of the artists, the superstition of the managers, or a product of the absurd and impressionable brains of the young ladies of the ballet, their mothers, the box-keepers, the cloak-room attendants or the concierge. Yes, he existed in flesh and blood, although he assumed the complete appearance of a real phantom; that is to say, of a spectral shade.

They called him Lord Voldemort.

Where did he come from? Where was he going? What went on in the mind of that twisted genius? Does anyone even know, other than himself?

That is why I have taken advantage of my imprisonment by the so-called "abomination". I will write a narrative answering all of these questions, and many more.

Where does he stand on the fine line between genius and insanity? Was there a Christine to this Phantom? Why did he embrace the music of the night? And why

"Hey! Draco! Coming to breakfast or not?"

"Shut up, Potter, I'm coming!"

Voldemort's Fortress, 1947:

"You can't marry him!"

"I have to!"

"You can't! You don't love him!"

"Don't tell me how I feel!"

"But it's true!"

"How do you know?!"

Voldemort flopped into a seat, sighing. "I've known you for ten years. By now, I can read you like a book."

The bride just smiled a little and sat beside him. "Or so you think." She paused for a while, racking her brain. "Maybe there's some way to stop the wedding."

"No, you're right. We can't stop it. We're not legal adults yet," he sneered.

"I don't love Orion Malfoy."

"I know."

"How can he do this to us? You're his best friend, Tom!"

"It's not him that's doing it. It's his parents, and your aunt and uncle."

"He's in favor of it."

"No, he isn't. Believe me, once you're both of legal age, he can divorce you, you can marry me, and we'll live happily ever after, ruling the world, raising our six children-"

"Six?" the bride laughed.

"Yes, six," Voldemort replied seriously. "Not enough?"

They both laughed a little.

"Besides, even if he can't divorce you, we can still meet. It will have to be in secret, but we'll still be together."

The bride gazed into his eyes. "I love you, Tom."

He lightly stroked her cheek. "And I'll always love you. You have no idea how much."

And as they embraced, the sound of wedding bells echoed over the horizon, sounding oddly sinister...

Voldemort's Fortress, 1997:

"So the new girl won't help us?"

"She wants nothing to do with Death Eaters."

"Told you she was nutters."

"We can still try to get her close to us."

"I'm telling you, it's going to be hard."

"So? A challenge is good every once in a while."

"This isn't going to be a challenge, it's going to be Hell on Earth."

"So?"

"Hemera MacNessa, you know why you've been summoned to my throne room."

"No, actually I don't."

"How have you been?"

Hemera eyed Voldemort with an incredulous look. "I've been fine. Living on inheritance, so I'm bloody rich. I'm happy enough, I guess. Every once in a while, I'll date someone, but not that often. Dating's much too messed up for me. And you?"

"As you already know, I'm very happy. I rule the world, since Hogwarts was the last step."

"Seeing anyone?"

"No."

"Stayed faithful to your love?" she asked with a mocking smile.

"No. I just haven't made any commitments. I tend to get turned off by the mortal types these days. They seem too trivial, simple, innocent. Now I'm looking for someone with Elven blood. Someone my equal. Someone else immortal."

Hemera's smile widened. "That means I'm out of the running."

"Don't worry. I'm not considering you. You've made it clear enough what you think of the Dark Side. Plus, I don't need a courtesan, I need a queen."

Hemera put a hand to her chest in mock pain. "How can you say that, Tommy? That just hurts. Especially coming from you."

Voldemort smiled slightly. "You had so much potential. You could have been so powerful."

"I chose my path long ago. I don't need you to try to choose it for me again."

"Now when did I do that?"

"Let me put it this way: When did you not?"

"You were a princess among death. Now look at yourself. No more than a jester of prisoners, captured only for amusement."

Hemera's face grew dark. "A jester, am I? Well, then, My Lord, we'll see how hard you're laughing in a few days. I'm going to give you Hell on Earth."

"Like you always have?"

"Worse."

"That's possible?"

"My Lord, do me a favor. Shut up."

Voldemort smirked. "Ha. Ha. Ha."

Hemera turned and stalked out of the room, grumbling under her breath.

A week had passed, and Hemera had begun to adjust to the life of a prisoner. Every morning, she rose as dawn stretched her rosy fingers over the horizon. Her wardrobe, apparently, was enchanted to provide a number of clothing selections in her size for any occasion she asked for. Breakfast was always taken in the Great Hall, where Death Eaters, Dark Lord, and prisoners would mingle. From there, the day was hers, except for meals.

At first, Hemera was merely content to just wander the halls, getting reacquainted with her old hideouts. Eventually, though, she began to frequent the library, although she would always run into Voldemort there. She merely contented herself with sitting on the opposite side of the huge circuit of rooms.

Sometimes, though, she would just watch the Dark Lord. She noticed that, while he sometimes took books from the shelves, he usually just wrote in a very large book. It seemed to be covered with a silvery-black material, its pages edged with silver. The book was only filled a third of the way, though, almost as though Voldemort was waiting for the next chapter to happen.

Finally, she worked up enough courage to start talking to him. He was perfectly civil in the library, even friendly. It was almost as though the library loosened him up.

She also noticed that some of the other prisoners came to the library. Draco, Remus, and Snape. Snape and Remus spent much of their time around the Nonfiction Section, doing research on things apparently. However, Draco stayed with Hemera and the Dark Lord, in the Fiction Section.

Diana, the girl who had talked to Hemera, tended to stay where Draco was. The two of them seemed very close. Hemera enjoyed listening to their conversations.

"I'm telling you, the chipmunks are in it with the invisible pink monkeys."

"No way! They would never betray me!"

"They already have Mwahahahahahahahahaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The two children definitely seemed very different around each other.

Harry opened the window very, very slowly. It was just big enough for him to slip out. He put his feet in the opening and started to wiggle through.

"That's it," he muttered. "I'm skipping dessert for a while. Oh, God, I think I'm stuck."

He was.

Harry wiggled again, and finally popped out of the window. He landed on a small balcony and started to climb down the side of the fortress.

"All right, get out, find Dumbledore, get help. Get out, find Dumbledore, get help. Don't get caught. My friends will kill me if I do. I'll just sneak through this garden."

Harry let go of the wall and dropped the last couple of feet. He then bolted towards what looked like a rather large rose garden. He got lost rather quickly, though. It seemed like a maze, a labyrinth that stretched on and on without end.

"No way," he muttered. "I am not letting a stupid flower garden get to me! It's not going to beat me!" Harry started to run forward. "Have to get out!" he chanted to the beat of his footsteps. "Have to get out!"

He was interrupted, though, by a noise. Something pounced from behind, tackling him. Harry felt his head hit the ground with a sickening crack. Colors danced before his eyes as he tried to shove the crushing weight off of his back. Long claws sunk into his shoulders as he heard the low purr of, "Hello, little boy. You're just in time for dinner..."