Purpose

~ Chapter 50: Strange Moods ~

Friday, 18^th January 1997. Late afternoon...

"Fenix?" Ginny waved her hand repeatedly ahead of the Fire Master's face. The girl exchanged a look with Hermione and she resumed her seat. The senior girl was helping her to revise her Transfigurations but they were more or less distracted with the Fire Master's strange behavior. Ginny whispered into Hermione's ear for the fifth time that afternoon. "What's wrong with her? She's really freaking me out with the way she's staring out of the window."

"I wish I knew," Hermione sighed, rubbing her fingers tiredly. "Anyway, let's take a break."

Ginny lifted an eyebrow and stared at Fenix in surprise when the woman got out of her chair and headed out of the library quickly. And they did not miss the anguished look on her face.

"Is she in a tiff with Lupin or something?" Ginny asked the Gryffindor prefect uneasily.

"No, they aren't. Whatever Fenix is experiencing, it's more serious than a lover's quarrel."

**********

Thursday, 22^nd January 1997. In a dark mansion...

Two sets of dark brown eyes watched the Dark Lord sleeping in exhaustion on their couch. All over their house, Voldemort's followers slept for the first time ever since they had been on the run. The pair however, was careful not to trust the Dark Lord. The latter might not be truly asleep after all. The two Ancients in the room stared almost needily at the sleeping Voldemort and they wondered if they had chosen the right path that would lead them to their ultimate goal.

"Don't say it," Damien whispered as he watched the Dark Lord's chest moved up and then down.

We're going to die anyway, Isaac thought to himself. Death is better than having to live with the abomination that we have tied ourselves into. His darker thoughts managed to push the lustful ones away.

Damien didn't like what they had to do any better than his twin did. But it really was unfair that the Light have all the favors and he knew that the Phoenix wouldn't want it to remain that way. That was why the two Ancients decided to ally themselves with the Dark Lord and let him hold the wild cards.

Isaac gave an unspoken signal to his twin. It was sick but they still had to do it. They kissed and they felt Voldemort's eyes watching them with interest. They kissed because that was the only way for them to communicate with each other without being detected. They wished they had the Fire Master's ability of mindspeech, but sadly, they had none.

What I don't understand is, why didn't she tell them about us? And that she wouldn't be there to see the Duel? Isaac asked his twin.

It's because she couldn't. She knows what can happen if she tries to tamper with natural Time. It is meant to happen this way. It's a safeguard too, because the green-eyed one and the Dragon have to overcome their enemies by themselves. They have to grow up or they'll forever be depending on those they love for opinions. Damien hugged his brother tightly to fight off the waves of revulsion building inside him. He wanted to scream but he couldn't. Dear Gods! We're brothers!

I know, Damien. I know...

The other twin felt the tears welling inside his eyelids. Love between our kind is forbidden, Damien choked in his feeling of disgust. How did we end up like this? He wailed helplessly.

I don't know. Isaac sighed into his brother's mouth. Maybe it's our retribution for our own unwillingness to have life cycles like the rest.

I can't handle this much longer! Damien placed all his anger, frustration and self-loathing on that one particular thought.

Please... You've got to hang on just a little longer. It will be over soon. His brother said reassuringly.

But Fenix would feel guilty after that... Could she handle that? Damien shivered and couldn't help feeling the despair that was slowly consuming his heart.

She's a strong woman and in time she would understand why we had done it. Just look at how she reacted when Luis visited her. Her dead lover had told her that she would have to fight off her own kind. She was horrified by the very possibility. We can't deny her from being what she truly is. Isaac bit down at Damien's lower lip and his twin whimpered.

What if we're too strong for her?

So? That doesn't mean we have to hold back our strength. Have faith in her, Damien. She's old and she's a damn fine warrior to boot. And like all warriors, they have their own egos to maintain. She would not think about letting us get away. No, not after the threat we had made on destroying the world. Isaac grinned despite the darkness that had started making a home in their hearts. Voldemort relaxed as he watched the two.

But is the threat true in any way? That our kind might disappear if she starts having children? Damien felt the small flicker of happiness that had risen at the thoughts that the Fire Master was at last, settling down.

Isaac gave a small chuckle. Of course not! And the rest knows it but it's queer that she does not. I'm having suspicions that He had a hand in that. He answered his twin.

Makes sense, Damien agreed then tightened his grip on his twin when he felt Voldemort's feet touched the cold, black marble floor. But I really hope she'll be able to finish us and that she is still as skillful as a true Slytherin. He felt a headache starting to build in his head.

We just have to cross our fingers. All we have to do now is wait until the green-eyed one is ready to end the war, Isaac said to his brother in determination. He flinched as he felt Voldemort's cold fingers traced his backbone. He sent one last thought to his brother before he submitted himself to the Dark Lord. We've come all the way here to make our future a permanent one, and we can't afford to die by the hand of this one or we're back to where we had started.

Damien sent his agreement and broke off from his brother's embrace. Isaac hated it. He hated how he was letting Voldemort drain his power of Destruction away from him willingly. Fenix, I hope you will prove to us that you are a true-born warrior. I want you to fight us as hard as you can to send us out to Death. Yes, I think we are making the right choices. We're doing her a favor. It would really leave a sour taste in her mouth if Voldemort had been beaten far too easily. Now that I think about it, we can't afford to have Voldemort sucking our power on the day of the Duel or she'll be insulted. I guess I'll worry about that later.

Damien gave a typical Slytherin-like sneer (that was faked) and Voldemort echoed it. This might be the first time in the history of the wizarding world that a Slytherin had willingly let a Gryffindor truly influence her. A Slytherin, who truly honors truth and justice above all else. Damien felt his world grew hazy around him as the Dark Lord began to harvest his power of Creation. The touch of Voldemort's palm on his naked chest thrilled him to the point that he hated himself for enjoying that simple touch.

**********

Saturday, 24^th January 1997. At the Gryffindor table.

They were quiet as they ate their dinner. Even Ginny felt it was totally useless to fill the silence with small talk. Fenix had not come down to dinner. They had found out that she was not with the wolves or any of the elves. She had shielded her mind tightly so that it ruled out the possibility of contacting her via mindspeech. However, there was one thing they could say. Fenix wasn't distraught because of them.

**********

At Nowhere...

Fenix was in a magical wood where she used to have long, extended discussion with the Sun God but since He was still occupied with the Council, she used the place for her own purpose. She began her brooding.

I don't bloody well understand what the two meant by going over to Voldemort. Did they tell him about our peculiarities? Gods, I certainly hope not. She leaned back against the broad oak trunk and concentrated on her thoughts. One thing I had noticed during our brief meeting, they were weakened by something but what? One thought flashed in her mind repeatedly in her mind and she felt her insides turn cold. They're letting Voldemort drain them? Are they nuts? And yes, why did the rest of the Ancients act as if they didn't care of me getting pregnant, as that would certainly confirm that they would be extinct in the next few years or so?

Fenix gave a frustrated sigh. Fighting off my species. Damn, that's a horrible thought. The twins have Harry's powers but they're not quite the sacred Gift. But even separate, their powers are still powerful and what if... What if they manage to do me in?

She cursed softly as images flashed through her mind and it made her heart ache when she thought of a broken werewolf. Sirius... His charming, deep blue eyes winked at her and her eyes stung painfully. No, I guess not. I can't deprive Harry of his godfather. He is rather quiet about the issue of me getting pregnant and the extinction. So the threat the twins gave me could be possibly untrue, such as that prediction that Trelawney made. In that case I will prove my determination of being a married woman. I haven't had the chance to taste motherhood and I am absolutely not going to let that chance go. So I will be there Damien, Isaac... When it's time.

**********

Montague was trying not to panic but it was extremely difficult not to do so. There was no doubt about it. His revered gang leader, Draco, was missing.

**********

The Slytherin was calmly walking through the gates that screened off the Malfoy property from everything else. It was quiet. Deathly quiet. Not even the crickets chirped. There were no bats flying around the house.

Draco calmly walked up the steps. He was not sure of what to make out of a note that had been sent to him by an owl two nights ago. He didn't know what to think, because at the back of the small, dark brown envelope, was his father's own signet. His father had written only a few words on a small piece of white paper. And I wonder if he had to make the envelope himself.

He placed his hand over the lock that secured the front door of the house and it was released with a loud snap and Draco winced. The door opened slowly and he paused at the threshold. The house was dark and his nose twitched uncomfortably. Where are all the house-elves? Or my mother for that matter? Huh, she probably joined up with Father. But I seriously hope she isn't here. The very sight of her curdles my blood. His movement made the pile of dust swirled up into a cloud and he suppressed his sneeze.

He had sneaked out of Hogwarts right after dinner, saying to Montague he had to go to the library. But Draco hadn't. Instead, he had run quickly to a corridor that pointed him to the direction of the Forest. He had made sure that the elves, his oathbrother or Fenix wouldn't be able to feel the disturbance of magical energies by transforming himself near a group of house-elves that were keen on spring-cleaning the castle. The Dragon took flight and he flew in the direction to a place that he had called home.

And now he was there. Where is he? The back of his neck prickled and with a wave of his hand, the door swung close. His eyes watered and he sneezed. Irritating pile of dust! He thought in irritation. ‘You really are a smart kid. Gone off by yourself to see a man who is just likely to kill you', his small voice nagged constantly. And so is he likely to get killed by me, Draco thought back testily as he looked for signs of human activity. ‘Patricide?' the voice said skeptically. Shut up! His eyes watered at the possibility. He went up the staircase that would ultimately lead to his bedroom, the master bedroom, the study, and his father's office. And that's probably where he is waiting for me.

There was no doubt about it. He missed his spoilt upbringing. He stared yearningly at his bedroom door but walked stealthily toward the office. He noticed that door was slightly ajar. With a soft command, the door opened wider and he scrutinized the interior of the office. Dust lay thick everywhere and he noted that there were no footprints except his own.

A bloody trap? He frowned and tightened his shields when he heard a hollow laugh. He finally noticed the man standing by the window. A man with extremely, pale blond hair that was the verge of being silver.

"You have changed greatly," Lucius Malfoy said slowly. "And I am pleased enough that you are doing well in your academics."

Draco maintained his silence although he had moved closer to his father.

"What? No respectful greetings from you?" Lucius turned his remaining eye to face him and smiled faintly when he saw his son's impassive face. He continued to sip his wine slowly.

"Why did you want to see me?" Draco asked abruptly into the silence.

"Malfoys don't need a reason to do anything," Lucius stated in a sardonic voice.

"I see. So there was really no reason at all to my disownment," Draco answered in a flat tone and for a moment, Lucius saw the great disappointment in Draco's pair of silver eyes.

"Exactly," Lucius smiled again and moved in closer to the young man. My son. The pride of my clan. Lucius's hand reached out to cup Draco's chin and he stared at the silver eyes intently. "Perfect, crystal clear silver. How curious." Abruptly, Lucius moved over to his store of precious wine and poured Draco a glass. "I assume that the Fire Master is in good health?" he asked Draco in a civil tone.

"Yes, no thanks to you," Draco answered curtly. He watched his father carefully as Lucius returned to his side and offered him the glass of wine. Draco accepted it without hesitation. His father had poured him the wine that Draco personally liked and he winced when his father had shown him that Lucius had been perfectly aware what his son had been up to ever since he hadn't lavished the house with his presence. "So Narcissa did keep in touch with you."

Lucius smiled thinly at his son's words. He could not blame his son for that. More than once ever since Lucius had married the harridan, he had forgotten all forms of endearment and called her by her first name, and others that went unspoken. They had a rather loveless marriage. Oh yes, he had been lustful for his wife but that's it. Pure, uncomplicated lust. He had wanted an heir and she wanted a name. Both got what they had always wanted, but he was afraid that he would lose the priceless one. The Fire Master had been a good mother to him.

Draco watched his father's cynical smile and wondered what his father was thinking. He let the wine fill his mouth and shivered as he tasted the bitterness and slowly let it down into his gullet. Not to fast Drake. You haven't been drinking anything stronger than Butterbeer for the past couple of months. He cautioned himself. As the room fell into comfortable silence, Draco sipped on his wine and examined his father. He looks healthy. Neat and charming. But he does look a little thin and he's paler than usual. Or is it just my eyes?

Draco finally couldn't stand the silence and asked his father in a weary voice. "Why did you even have a family even when you know that Vol–" His question was rapidly cut off as his father lunged at him. Both their glasses shattered as they hit the floor, the remaining wine quickly seeping through the thick carpet. Draco choked as his father's hand closed in on his throat.

"Don't... you ever! Don't you ever speak his name!" Lucius hissed and Draco stared at his father in detached amazement. He had never seen his father shown that kind of expression on his pale face. Lucius was absolutely terrified. The tightness on his throat lessened but his father did not release him.

"Dragon's teeth! Why on earth did you ask me to come here, old man?" Draco stared into his father's fiercely, as if by just looking at his father, he could get all the answers from the wizard. "What is it that you expect to gain by sticking with him?" Draco continued his questioning. "Answer me!"

Lucius opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. The haunted look in his son's eyes made him fear about more than his Master knowing that his servant had sneaked out to arrange a secret meeting with his son, without authorization. "Run away, Draco. Don't be with them when the time comes," Lucius said in a deathly cold voice.

"Run?" Draco asked incredulously. "You're asking me to run? That's a damn Slytherin-like thing to do, isn't it?" the Slytherin spat and his father's hand tightened around his throat once more. "He got it all wrong, you know. Snape managed to get it right. Even before Fenix showed him the truth." Draco's eyesight blurred, both from the effects of strangulation and alcohol.

"What?" Lucius asked, feeling slightly confused by his son's words.

"Slytherins... We're not supposed to help..." Draco struggled against his father's grip and he turned into a black fiery-like substance and reappeared several feet away from his father. Lucius was staring at him in mingled surprise and horror. "You knew what I am, didn't you? You named me Draco for that purpose," he said coldly, managing to conceal his drunkenness from his father. "Snape got one thing right. Slytherins aren't meant to be followers. We're solitary and free to follow our own hearts."

**********

In the Potions Master's office.

Snape's face paled, then turned red and paled again. Montague stood nervously before Draco's godfather. Angrily, the Potions Master swept away from his off and headed off to a particular area. First, it is Fenix who had disappeared without even a notice and now this spoilt brat, Snape fumed. There was only one thing he wanted to do badly at that moment. He needed to get his hands around the neck of a particular green-eyed chap, if he was not missing like his Slytherin counterpart.

**********

Draco's words echoed in Lucius's mind over and over again. His son was speaking to him. "Tell me Father," Draco approached him in a menacing gait. "What can he give you? Power? You are powerful so why do you need more? What do you want from him?"

Lucius remained mute. For the first time in his life, he saw his son staring at him not as an inferior to his provider, but rather like an equal. And Lucius was torn between pride and vexation at his son's attitude. He hadn't noticed how much his son had grew and the strength that was in the lean frame until Draco started shaking his shoulders.

"What's so good about him that you have to worship and kneel before him?" Draco choked on his words and Lucius saw his fair son began to cry angry tears. "Damn you, Father," Draco whispered as he rested his forehead on his father's left shoulder. The Slytherin seemed to have forgotten the anger that he had harbored for his father. "Why?" Lucius heard his son's faint whisper that was muffled by his shoulder. "Why did you disown me? Why do you want to tear my life apart?"

Cold tears began to penetrate his black cloak as Draco cried onto his shoulder. Lucius trembled, then his strong arms held onto his son when the boy's knees gave way, and they both sank to the floor.

"I miss you, Father," Draco whimpered. "I miss the way you sound all witty when you thought I needed discipline. I miss the time in which we had did the house accounts together during the summer holidays. I miss those times when you had bribed me to get Mother out of your ears."

Lucius said nothing but he held his son tighter and tried to keep his dignity but it was hard to do so. He blinked his eye furiously. Although Lucius thought that he did not deserve it, but his son cared for him and it helped to ease the turmoil in his heart. "You're your own man now, Draco. Nothing in the world can influence you to do things which you don't want to. Walk the path that you had chosen for yourself with confidence," Lucius said hoarsely, wishing that he had not been a Death Eater. He had wished he had been a normal wizard who had taken great pride on raising his children. But his ambitions that were abnormal had crashed his dreams decades ago. Lucius was glad that he had kept his son totally in the dark when it comes to issues of his Master.

"Father you can leave with me. You don't have to stay with him," Draco looked at him fiercely. His eyes turned hopeful when he saw his father contemplating the offer.

Lucius was uncertain. But running away won't help. It didn't help Karkaroff all that much, a voice spoke up. So Lucius shook his head stubbornly and Draco began to look more desperate. His Dark Mark started to burn and he gasped in pain. He's discovered me, a fleeting thought passed in his mind. Draco stared at him when Lucius helped him up roughly to his feet.

"You've got to leave!"

Draco stared at his father, incomprehension showing on his face. He did not move. "But..."

"Just do it!" Lucius snapped but his son remained still. "Dear Lord! Listen to me!" He shook Draco to get his son to think. "Whatever you do, don't get caught by him! Swear it to me! It doesn't matter to him that you're my son! He sees you just as a great source of power and he will drain you if he has you in his clutches!"

Draco's silver eyes flickered with dark emerald fire and the room steadily grew warm. "You know that Snape can never replace you."

Lucius's sharp facial features softened. "Stay safe, Draco."

The Slytherin gave his father one last hug and stared at Lucius for a long time before he whispered. "At least I know you care about me but I don't think I can stop missing you." And then, Draco was gone, turning into a black sheet of fire and slid out of the window.

The Death Eater waited patiently for the Dark Lord to appear. His arm burned but he ignored it. Instead, he went over to the cabinet and looked for the strongest whisky he had in possession. He uncorked the bottle and took a huge gulp. It burned his throat and he coughed. It will be wiser if I get myself drunk before he arrives but I wonder... I guess he has no choice but to finally kill me...

Minutes passed and he finally felt a strange tingle across his arms. Ahhh... He's finally here. Lucius smirked, feeling glad at his success of getting drunk in a short time.

"Lucius, Lucius, luscious Lucius," someone clucked in faint disapproval. Lucius swayed and turned to the source of the voice. Voldemort was gazing steadily at him. "You're drinking without me Lucius?"

Lucius stared at his Master and grinned. "Why don't you get over here and start drinking Master?" he slurred and winced when he heard his own casualness. Then again, he is drunk and maybe his Master would let that pass. Or maybe not.

Voldemort smiled slightly then frowned when his foot crunched on several pieces of shattered glass. He noted that there had been two wineglasses. And who, I wonder, had been drinking with my dear servant? Voldemort thought distractedly.

Lucius did not care that the Dark Lord had noticed that the wine stain on the carpet was fresh. He was too busy in selecting a bottle for his Master.

"Let's go to somewhere more comfortable and ah... less irritating to the nose," Voldemort said sweetly as he bent over to pick up a sharp glass fragment and he hid it in his pocket.

Lucius's stomach revolted at the suggestion but the Death Eater was beyond the point of rational thinking. He groped for a second glass and managed to get himself through the door and led the Master to the bedroom. Lucius sighed with relief when the room appeared to be free of dust and vermin. The Death Eater lazily kicked off his shoes.

**********

He is a strange person when he is drunk, Voldemort thought with amusement and he finally understood why Lucius had seldom drank more than what was good for him. I have the feeling that tonight will be an entertaining one for me... Lucius had discarded his cloak carelessly to the floor and Voldemort picked it up and started sniffing. Lucius was unalarmed by his Master's peculiar gesture. His Master scowled when he picked up the salty scent of tears. And who had been crying on your shoulder?

Voldemort circled the damp area with his fingers several times and was satisfied when images flashed into his mind. He still had not reached his maximum wizard strength but he was certainly capable of lighting up than just a small candle. Short black hair appeared in his vision but the top half was pale blond. Voldemort wondered who it belonged to. Then he saw a pair of silver eyes. The Fire Master? The Dark Lord frowned. Then he saw the fire in the eyes and he knew them only too well. Have you been slandering me behind my back, Lucius?

Voldemort snapped out of his thoughts when Lucius handed him a glass. He watched his servant slowly crept onto the bed and was directly drinking wine from the bottle.

**********

Lucius was perfectly aware that he was on his own bed and somehow, his Master had removed his shirt from his body. When did he do that? Lucius felt his Master's cold hand on his chest and he stared at it. Why must it always be cold? His Master inched closer to him. Lucius felt extremely feverish and disgusted at the same time, but his Master knew him and his weaknesses.

"You've been playing when I'm not looking," Voldemort whispered into his ear. "I am very displeased with you."

Lucius certainly did not register his Master's first sentence; he was too preoccupied with the unmoving hand on his chest. But he heard the second sentence and he sulked, snorting his disdain. If he had been sober, he would have been galled by his own actions. "You've never been pleased with me."

Lucius heard his Master laughed sweetly at his remark and felt something sharp poking on his chest. Glass? Lucius thought hazily. He raised an eyebrow at his Master. That explains the coldness, and I see that the torture is just about to begin. Lucius watched Voldemort maneuvered around so he could lie down on Lucius's chest. And he hadn't drunk his wine. How rude... Lucius flushed when he felt his Master's free hand trail lightly on his upper body and stopped slightly above his navel. Lucius saw his Master's devilish smile.

The glass cut deeper into his skin and red haziness began to fill his vision. "But I think you would be able to please me tonight," his Master said in a hushed voice.

**********

Outside the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"I told you sir! He hadn't told me anything about a night-trip!" Harry's angry shout made Sirius quicken his steps and was shocked to find that Snape was attempting to strangle his godson.

"Severus! What in the name of Merlin are you doing?" Sirius thundered, scowling so furiously that to Hermione, he resembled quite like an enraged bull and was about to charge on his target.

The Potions Master let go of Harry's collar and the Gryffindor staggered backwards and landed on his best friend. The two godfathers stared at each other angrily.

**********

I thought He had mentioned that I'm quite alone in this place, Fenix frowned to herself and sought for the source of depression. I haven't even dealt with mine! Then she stopped when she felt something familiar. Her own trace of magic was emanating out from a boy's upper arm. I am going to be strangled by Sev tonight, she thought in resignation as she approached Draco. I see that he remembers this place well enough to come to it on his own. I wonder if this is his first time coming here. Now, why is he crying? Damnation! Is Harry in trouble again? Alarm rose in her but it quickly died after she probed the boy further. Draco wasn't distressed about anything relating to his oathbrother.

: Drake? :

The Slytherin stared wildly around him and looked at Fenix without any signs of recognition. She slowly knelt beside him, her eyes not leaving his dark, depressed silver ones. He suddenly flung himself at her and sobbed uncontrollably. She sat into a more comfortable position and began soothing the boy, but was distracted when he overwhelmed her mind by hundreds of impressions.

: He loves Voldemort! : Draco kept screaming in her mind. : My father's in love with him! :

What in hell? She stared at the top of his head and the truth finally hit her. : Dear Gods Drake! What have you been up to?! Where did you go?! :

: My father... I went to our house to see him, : Draco answered tiredly. : And Fenix, I saw what Voldemort did to my father... :

**********

Fenix tucked the blankets about the sleeping Draco then signaled to her partner to follow her. She extinguished the candles in her room and left her office to see her oathbrother. Through their oathbond, she had felt Sirius's rage and the bond that were present between her and Snape told her that the Potions Master was fantasizing about several torturous devices to experiment on the Black.

"Stop it." Her quiet voice stopped the two wizards before they managed to decorate the corridor with blood.

"And where the hell had you disappeared to?!"

Fenix was surprised that it was Snape who had asked the question but felt relieved when she saw Sirius glower at the Potions Master.

"Drake's missing," Harry informed her, although he was staring fearlessly at Snape who stared back angrily at the Gryffindor.

"I know. I was with him," Fenix answered and then turned back to walk in the direction from which she had came from.

"And what do you mean by walking off without giving me an explanation?" Snape growled and grabbed her arm to turn her around.

Fenix stared at his hand. "Let go of my arm, Sev," she said softly. All about them, students stared at her.

: Severus, I've just made myself a new friend and I don't think I care to lose you to my mate now. : Snape heard the werewolf's mindvoice spoke softly into his mind. Snape released his hold on her arm slowly and Fenix went on her way without another word.

"I need a goddamn bloody drink," Sirius growled and stormed off. "Who's coming with me?" He didn't turn to look behind him.

Harry was about to follow them when he was stopped by Hermione's grumpy look. He sighed and patiently reassured her that he was not about to pick on an alcoholic habit and he swiftly joined Remus as they headed onwards to Sirius's quarters.

**********

Sirius felt hurt that Fenix had informed Remus first and not him. Snape was massaging his forehead and Harry was looking slightly green in the face.

"I didn't know about their... relationship," Snape said in a small voice, which sounded rather peculiar and Harry wondered if he was referring to Lucius's relationship with Draco or Lucius's relationship with Voldemort.

: It's the second one, : Fenix pointed out helpfully.

Harry couldn't quite hide his anger from her and the Fire Master let him rave. It was quite some time before Harry felt satisfied with his lecture. In a much calmer tone, Harry said, : What's bothering you? : Harry felt her sigh.

: I've been bothered by the same thing this past week or so. I had received a message from someone who had been dead for eight years plus and I happened not to like it, : she answered. : But it absolutely had nothing to do with you or the war of Voldemort. :

: Are you sure? : Harry couldn't help but be suspicious.

: Yes, Harry. I'm sorry for making you guys worry. :

There was a knock on Sirius's door and the Black waved his wand lazily to open it. It was Fenix and she paled when she saw that they had been drinking.

"Come here, and kneel down and start apologizing!" Sirius growled, looking at her angrily and frowned at Remus who had spluttered on his drink.

"Oathsib, that wasn't funny. That was absolutely not funny at all," Fenix answered flatly and Sirius frowned at her, not quite understanding her comments.

"Please excuse me," Snape said and Harry watched the Potions Master quizzically as Snape bolted for the bathroom. Seconds later, they heard the sound of retching and Harry paled even more.

: I think I'm going to be sick too, : Harry commented and slowly went into the bathroom and he joined Snape. That made Sirius realize that he was reenacting a particular scene and he swore pungently.

"Sirius," Snape gasped, as he leaned against the bathroom door, wincing as he listened to the noises coming from the bathroom. "Make them disappear right now," he pleaded hoarsely, not quite looking at their glasses and the lone bottle of whisky. For the first time, Sirius was in total agreement with the Potions Master about something.

**********

Lucius woke up with painful itches from all over his body and his head was pounding terribly. He opened his eyes blearily and was thankful that the room was still dark. But then, he was confused by a dark shape on his chest and suppressed a moan when he realized it was his Master's head. Lucius flushed darkly with shame and disgust. I'm still alive? I should have got drunker than this... Lucius gulped and willed himself to sleep once more.

Voldemort smiled with satisfaction as he felt his servant's uneasiness. I'm afraid I can't lose my plaything that easily... Voldemort trailed the sharp edge of the broken glass over his servant's left hip and carelessly threw the fragment away. Lucius suppressed his groan, still refusing to entertain his Master by waking up completely. Lucius realized he was crying when his Master started to whisper in his ear.

**********