That Which does not Kill

The greenhouse that day would be better off described as a madhouse. The Slytherin and Gryffindors had found ways to use the Lidovera plant's flowers as effective weapons against one another. Professor Sprout scrambled around to separate pairs of students exploding the flowers against one another.

"Stop! All of you stop! This is not acceptable behavior of Seventh Years!"

Harry and Ron had the time of their lives, targeting the easiest Slytherins they could find. Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy all suffered from hits of the exploded Lidovera flower. Even Draco generated amusement by throwing a fast one at Harry and laughing heartily when it exploded and created a green smudge on the black robe.

Hermione was trying her best to help Professor Sprout stop the insanity. She tried to hold Ron back from picking a whole plant and chucking it at Draco.

"Ron, please! Don't make me put you in a body bind!" she threatened.

But instead of listening to her, Ron laughed hysterically and broke free of her grasp. He picked an amazing number of the combustible flowers and managed to throw them all up in the air, his intentions being to create a small shower of Lidovera explosions.

Professor Sprout nearly fainted, but managed to shout, "Everybody get down and cover your heads!"

Hermione dove under a lab table. Harry and Ron hid under a Featherhot tree. Draco found refuge under a stool, while Crabbe and Goyle remained where they were, confident that they could face the wrath of the explosions. Pansy cowered in fear, whimpering quietly. Quiana couldn't help but be amused at the scene. I guess it's time to do my one good deed for the day. She thought as she took out her wand. These are the two classes Hogwarts calls its best? Spare me. In Alastriona, we used to grow mutated species of Lidovera to create flowers with the power of explosion equivalent to that of a Muggle hand grenade.

"Demitasse!" she ordered. A clear, bubble-like shield amassed itself over the group of hidden Slytherin and Gryffindor students. Crossing her arms, she looked upwards to see how the flowers would respond on contact with the shield. With each popping sound, she knew that the basic shield spell had been performed correctly.

Professor Sprout was the first to come out of hiding. She looked like a groundhog coming out of hibernation for the first time in months. Several students, seeing that no kind of danger fell upon their teacher, peeked over the desks and eventually stood up. Looking around her, Professor Sprout's face registered in a surprised appearance. All of the students hid during the crisis...with the exception of one. That new student she had just seen Sorted only a few hours ago.

"What is the meaning of this?" Professor Sprout asked curiously. "How did you know to use the Dome Bubble Spell against the Lidovera flower?"

"Finite Incantatem," Quiana closed the spell and faced the Professor. The bubble vanished. "Oh, Professor, it was nothing. I just acted on instinct and it happened to work. Plain luck, I guess."

Professor Sprout straightened and smiled. She looked relieved. "It was a very good instinct, Miss..."

"Quiana Llewellyn." What does it take for someone to remember my name? It isn't that hard, is it?

"Well, Miss Llewellyn, for your act of courage today, Gryffindor will be awarded 50 points. Class is dismissed." Professor Sprout waved a short finger at them. "And you had better thank Miss Llewellyn, because if it hadn't been for her, I would have reported your behavior straight to Headmaster Dumbledore..."

Quiana didn't bother to hear the rest of Professor Sprout's schpeal. It was nothing to her. All she did was make a good guess and it happened to protect the already hidden students from a couple of little stings and stains. Woo-ie. Well, I guess that covers my good deed for the day, she thought as she meandered lazily out of the greenhouse.

Hermione seethed with rage as she watched Quiana walk nonchalantly out of the greenhouse. I could have done it. I could have saved the class. But no, I guess she had to save them first. She's doing this on purpose--she knows how much it pisses me off. All right, Quiana, Miss I'm so Perfect, I promise that I will find a way to get back at you. I'll find out all your secrets, and I'm going to use them all to my advantage. I'm going to expose you for the true bitch you are...

~ * ~ *

I only have Transfiguration and Arithmancy tonight. That leaves a good 4 to 5 hours to do...whatever. Quiana's room was darkened, save one small light for studying her schedule. She rubbed her tired eyes. It'd be best to get at least 2 or 3 hours of practice, which would leave her with plenty of time for a break afterwards. I wonder where the Hogwarts Quidditch field is located...

~ * ~ *

Peeves the Poltergeist hummed happily to himself as he wreaked havoc one ceramic piece at a time in the Great Hall.

"Oh, happy day..." (crash) "My, there goes another one..." (large crash)

He was just about to send a heavy vase to its demise when he was suddenly disturbed by the sound of an opening door.

"Do you happen to know where the Quidditch field is located?" the girl poked her head in and asked.

"Next to the greenhouse, what's it to you?" Peeves sneered. He didn't get much of a chance. The girl had already left.

~ * ~ *

The wind blew gently through Quiana's long black hair, which was tied in a low ponytail. The grass in the Quidditch field rustled along with her. Dressed in a form fitting shirt, pants, gloves, and boots, she looked every ounce the professional Holder of the Blade staff. She inhaled a large breath of air.

"Accio Blade staff!" Here goes nothing... Launching herself into a practiced routine of handsprings and round-offs, anyone who came upon the scene might have mistaken her for some stowaway acrobat from the nearest gymnastics training facility. But in actuality, Quiana was fully self-taught in basic gymnastics and self-defense. Living in the filthy, deserted alleyway of the Zhou-Xian district of Nanhai had taught her any form of self-defense was necessary for survival. After the fifth consecutive handspring, while in mid-air, a long handled ebony staff with a thin double crescent blade came from possibly nowhere and was caught in the sure grasp of Quiana Llewellyn, the newest assigned Holder of the Blade staff. Once the staff was caught, Quiana stopped all of her acrobatics and began to perform smooth, controlled motions with it. The staff spun so gracefully on her arms, one would never think that it weighed nearly 10 pounds.

~ * ~ *

It was then that the Slytherin Quidditch team decided to show up for practice. Their captain, Fox Roselyn, was about to send his team running onto the field when he spotted a far away figure on the field. It was a tall girl who had instantly snared his eye. Fox frowned and squinted.

"Who the hell is that and what is she doing on the Quidditch field where the great Slytherin team is supposed to be practicing?"

"Quiana Llewellyn, the newest Gryffindor inductee. Didn't you pay any attention at all this morning?" Pansy spat her name like a bad taste.

"Pansy, you know these things are never worth paying my attention to," Fox remarked with disdain. He sighed. "We'll just have to show her who's boss around here. Such a pity too, she's really a pretty one. Release the Bludgers."

Draco couldn't believe his eyes. Could it be? The Fourth Holder actually existed?

~ * ~ *

Quiana knew perfectly well that the Slytherin Quidditch team was there. She knew about the Bludgers that were flying straight at her from a distance. She even felt the stares of the team...but there was one stare that was slightly different, on a different level. It was the gaze of another Holder. She paused and set down her staff. Her gaze wandered back to the team, most of who were gaping in awe. That guy with platinum hair...the one with the hypnotic eyes. The different stare I felt was his. Oh, look, it's Fatty, she mused. I wonder how she even got on the team, more or less on a broom. It's amazing what you can do with a few galleons here and there...Quiana closed her eyes. They're coming for you... she could feel the Bludgers' presence. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, lit with an icy fire. A sly smile crawled from her lips. Let's have some fun, shall we?

~ * ~ *

Crabbe, Goyle, and Fox were laughing madly. They seemed to seem this current situation 'funny'.

"Oh come now, Malfoy, have a little fun in your life. Why don't you try chucking the Snitch at her too!" Fox jeered.

Draco simply stared past him to Quiana. The fact of the Fourth Holder existing was nearly impossible. The original Holder of the Blade staff was lost in the legendary First Mage War. Not another had graced the world of magic for at least a century. So that was why I was drawn to her... Since she was the last Holder, the prophecy foretold that she would be by far the most attractive of the Four, but also the most protective, defensive, and rebellious. Fighting to the end. Those Bludgers have no idea what will hit them next.

~ * ~ *

Two black spots approaching at breakneck speed. Quiana half-smiled to herself. Picking up her staff with the smoothest grace, she broke into a fast sprint directly into the path of the Bludgers. Considering she was looking for trouble--she'd take what she could get.

"What, in the name of Voldemort is she doing?" Fox had stopped laughing.

Crabbe scratched his brillo-pad style hair. "Um...it looks like she's gonna charge them...ha..."

Charging would probably be a bit of an understatement... Draco thought. If this had been in a different situation, he might have enjoyed himself. Quiana was putting on a magnificent show for the team. Whipping her staff from behind her, she brought it crashing down on the first Bludger. There was virtually no sound as the thin but diamond-sharp metal of the blade sliced it easily through the middle. The second Bludger was closing in fast, but Quiana seemed to know already. Sensing its presence, she ducked and swiftly brought the blade around her head, catching the Bludger just as it had wheeled back to try and hit her from the back. By now, Quiana was bent on one knee; her Blade staff aligned parallel with her arm. Staking her staff into the ground, she leaned on it for support as she helped herself to stand. She flipped her loose hair back, and casually sent her Blade staff back with a simple storing spell for inanimate objects: "Requitetium."

Draco swallowed hard. She was within a short distance from him. His heart was beating nearly as fast as those Bludgers had been flying. He could hear his blood roar in his ears.

I wonder why he's squirming like that, Quiana thought, slightly amused. Why don't I just go over there and tell him why I think he's so fidgety. She took a few steps more until she stopped deliberately a few millimeters in front of his face. Funny, he didn't look this tall from far away. Even though he was only a few inches taller, she still had to look up at him.

"Do you know the prophecy?" she whispered, practically breathing down his throat.

Draco could die. He couldn't manage to say anything back. He was still in the process of absorbing the whole chain of events.

But instead of smiling, Quiana's lovely face remained the same. Her eyes froze over. Pushing him to the side, she commented, "Too bad I can't fall in love with such a self-conceited bastard as you." And with that, she walked quickly off the Quidditch field in the direction of the Gryffindor tower, leaving the (very) stunned Slytherin team to themselves.

~ * ~ *

Meanwhile, Hermione's eyes were starting to ache from reading by wand-light. The sun had set long ago; holed up in her room and surrounded by books, she could not find a place to set down her Omnioculars. Screw this bloody thing. She threw it angrily across the room, managing to nick Crookshanks' tail.

"Meow!" Crookshanks shot Hermione a look of animalistic reproach.

"Oh, Crookshanks, not now." Hermione flipped through some class books she had borrowed from Professor Binns to supposedly 'study'. The Legendary Holders of the Staff, from the History of Legends, Vol. 7... so this is the book in which your secret is hidden! Hermione searched quickly and pinpointed the pages that had illustrations of the 4 staffs themselves. The first page of the chapter describing the Holders defined them as, "An elite group of four men and women who are chosen by the Staffs to defend the world against evil. When assembled on the sacred grounds of Evangelia, their power is great enough to reverse the Apocalypse."

The first illustration was a sketch of a long, gold staff with a sun crowning the top. Intricate silver designs were carved into the handle, as well as the names of the Holders who had been chosen in the past by the Staff itself. The next sketch showed a metallic, cerulean blue staff with carvings of various ocean creatures on the handle. The top was crowned with a small, sapphire sculpture of spouting water. It was said that when the light passed through it, it glittered just like the ocean would. On the back of the page was a sketch of the Dragon Staff, one Hermione knew very well. She had been there when Fiona, the Queen of Dragons, had led the Staff to its newest Holder, Draco Malfoy. They had drawn it exactly as she had seen it, the handle a blood red color with a golden, green-eyed dragon crowning the top. The last sketch was of the Blade staff. Its ebony handle with silver design was by far the simplest but the blade itself was another story. The blade topping the handle was not very wide, and it was actually quite thin. A border of inscribed ivy lined the edges, and the blade itself was said to be able to cut through anything. Each Staff possessed its own history of Holders--when one died, the Staff simply added the deceased Holder's name to the handle and chose another person worthy of it. Rowena Ravenclaw was said to have been a Holder of the Dragon Staff, while Godric Gryffindor held the most powerful of them all, the Sun Staff.

Hermione's eyes darted to the updated list of Holders. Her finger trailed after the words written in an unusual, pointed and slanted hand. The ink was dark, as if it had been written only a few minutes before. Honorable Holder of the Sun Staff, Maxwell Hobby; Location: Unknown (born in London, England.) Honorable Holder of the Sea Staff, Etana Kai; Location: Southern coast of Malaysia. Honorable Holder of the Dragon Staff, Draco Malfoy... Hermione had to pause. Tiny jolts of electricity passed through her fingers even as she touched his written name. She stared in wonder at her fingers, then moved on. ...Location: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, England. Honorable Holder of the Blade Staff, Quiana Llewellyn... So this is what you are, Hermione grinned. Location: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...Hermione turned the page. Considering it was the end of the chapter, she expected it to be blank. But it remained blank only for a few moments before the unique, slanted handwriting seeped onto the page. It's a poem, Hermione realized.

"From the Sea to the Sun, Dragon to the Blade,

Together are bade

To defend the good against the pit of evil

Sea and Sun, Dragon and Blade

Seek comfort in each other

Never in another

Together forever

Sea and Sun, Dragon and Blade"

What in the world could that mean? Hermione thought anxiously. Are they trying to say that...that they are meant to be together? And that Draco 'loving' me was all some hoax? That's not true. I don't believe it. Draco loved me. He promised to love me forever, and it's true. Besides, what does a book know about true love, anyhow? Frustrated and hurt, Hermione slammed the book shut and threw it against a wall of the room she shared with Lavender Brown (who was conveniently staying over in Parvati's room). Hermione turned around to face Crookshanks, who was nursing his nicked tail on her bed.

"Do you believe the prophecy, Crookshanks?"

Her cat could not answer, but instead only offer a pitiful look.

Hermione's eyes welled. "So it's true?" Tears stood at the edges of their cliffs, ready to fall. Still in denial, she went on admiring the night sky from her window. Figured on brooms racing about the sky, training for a match this coming weekend. Blinking from the sudden breeze, a single tear was released from its prison to make the lonesome journey down her cheek only to end up committing suicide on the windowsill she was leaning upon.

~ * ~ *

"Lucius! Lucius Malfoy, I order you to Apparate to me this instant. Now!" the Dark Lord Voldemort screamed. His voice reverberated in the walls of his concealed underground cave. Nagini slithered up beside him, forked tongue tasting the air.

"I know, Nagini, I know..." he sighed impatiently. "Lucius!" he boomed again.

(Pop!) "My apologies, your darkness. There was--" Lucius appeared and bowed low. But before he could explain, Voldemort had already raised his 13 1/2-inch wand.

"Crucio." The word slipped out of the Dark Lord's mouth like lethal venom.

Lucius Malfoy's body started to tremble instantaneously. The tremors grew into spasms, and soon, Lucius was on the dusty floor of the cave, writhing in extreme pain. He did not cry out, for he knew the consequences all too well of that imbecilic action. All he could force out was,

"My Lord..." he almost choked on the sweat pouring from his face. "Why?"

Voldemort fixed a cold red eye upon the body that lay twitching spasmodically before him. He stroked Nagini. "Your boy is continuing to destroy my plan for world domination, Lucius. Do you happen to know whom he has found? Do you?"

Lucius swallowed and fought hard to keep back involuntary tears. "No, my Lord..."

Voldemort continued to stroke the immense python. "Are you really that ignorant, Lucius?" He stopped stroking Nagini and fixed both ruby eyes on Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius' eyes bulged as another wave of pain hit him. "Yes...my Lord..." he choked.

Voldemort actually let out a sigh and looked disappointedly back at Nagini. "It is very difficult to find good help these days," he turned back to Lucius. "But beggars can't be choosers, now can they?" Voldemort raised his wand again. "Finite Incantatem."

Lucius immediately stopped twitching. He sucked in a lungful of air. Another. Exhaled. Swallowed. Blinked. His entire body throbbed as if he had been beaten with a stick at least 50 times. Getting up and then kowtowing in front of Voldemort, he said in a small voice, "My lord is most merciful."

Voldemort seemed satiated for the moment. Good things don't tend to last very long, for Voldemort queried again about Draco's newest discovery.

Lucius was genuinely confused. "Discovery? What sort of discovery, my Lord?"

Voldemort's blood red eyes remained cool. "I am assuming that you know of the legendary Holders of the Staff? Possibly the greatest source of good in the world of magic?"

Lucius nodded like a puppet. "Of course, my Lord, although my knowledge is only rudimentary compared to yours."

Voldemort's eyes flared. "Yet you fail to realize that your son is now one of them!"

Lucius instantly cast his gaze to the floor. "Yes, my Lord."

Voldemort's temper cooled. "Tell me, Lucius, do you happen to know exactly how many Holders are on this earth at this moment?"

Lucius made sure to choose his words carefully. "I'm not positive, my Lord, but at the last time recorded, there were only two Holders left alive after the First Mage War: The Holder of the Sea Staff and the Holder of the Sun Staff. But now that..." Lucius grew uncomfortable and cleared his throat. "But now that... Draco... is the Holder of the Dragon Staff, they are still lacking the fourth and last of them."

"A quick one, you are." The Dark Lord commented. "Isn't he quick, Nagini?"

Lucius' eyes widened. "But you can't be serious, the Blade Staff is virtually non-wizard-handle-able. Its power is unchecked, and no one has been able to call it or even get their hands on it. The Blade responds to none but its Holder."

Voldemort's voice became the frigid wind of the Arctic. "Lucius, you of all people should know that nothing is impossible. Your son for example, the apparent heir to the Malfoy empire--the newest Holder of the Dragon Staff--do you really expect him to continue the tradition? Oh, Lucius, don't give me that look. You know it's true. Too bad Narcissa only had one child...However, Lucius, I do have a point. The Holder of the Blade Staff has resurfaced at Hogwarts School. Her name is Quiana, and she holds much power as a Holder. A pity your son has fallen hard for her...she has yet to reciprocate his feelings."

His pride bruised and ego deflated, Lucius had nothing to say back to his master. Instead, his eyes only narrowed at the mention of his son 'falling' for this girl.

Voldemort continued, oblivious to Lucius' emotions. "She looks strikingly like Harry Potter. The black hair, astonishingly hypnotic green eyes; although I must say I half expected them to be darker than they are. Hmm...her eyes do seem a little familiar." The Dark Lord shrugged it off. "Must have been some servant with the same colored eyes. Your boy can hardly take himself, Lucius; he is so infatuated with this Quiana. Wasn't it bad enough with that MudBlood he tried to get along with last summer?"

Lucius frowned at the thought of that MudBlood even trying to enter his house. "Yes, my Lord, that was completely uncalled for."

Voldemort tapped his fingers on the arms of his chair. "Well...it seems that our plans are proceeding just fine. Quiana does not like your son, needless to say 'love' your son; therefore she will be unable to fulfill that part of the prophecy--the Alterius spell has not failed us. The four Holders will never meet on the Grounds of Evangelia...and I will be...unstoppable..." the Dark Lord's eerie, empty laugh echoed throughout the dank cave, engraved far under the roots of the Forbidden Forest.