Lost in the Nothingness..

Chapter Two: Miles to go before I sleep.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

- "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening", Robert Frost

Harry's eyes widened as a familiar figure ducked and carefully stepped out of the fireplace at Flourish and Botts, little tongues of green flame dying under his feet.

"Professor Lupin?"

Remus grinned wryly. "Habit, huh? Remus, please, Harry..." He coughed a little, then rummaged in his robes as if looking for something.

"Er, yeah...Remus...what're you doing here, at Diagon Alley?"

Remus looked out from his search, then smiled and absently drew a parchment from his sleeve. "Dumbledore requests that I buy some things for the chil...someone. Let's see, it says here...cauldrons, vials, quills, parchment, the standard Book of Spells, Book 6..."

Harry looked up, startled, at this. "Who are you buying that for? I mean, if I can ask? Is someone new starting in sixth year? Who? How do you know him? Or is it a her? Which house..."

Remus grinned and gently broke Harry off. "I expect you'll know him soon enough...he'll be returning to Hogwarts but I think..." He trailed off upon seeing Hermione and Ron approach.

Harry's eyes were large, and one brow raised skeptically. Ron seemed surprised. "Harry, where did you learn that from? You look like Malfoy, the miserable git...oh, Professor Lupin."

He turned to Remus, sobered, and missed the quick flash of conflicting emotions that passed Harry's eyes. "How have things been?"

Harry turned to Ron, composed now, brow still raised. "Profe...Remus says that someone new is joining us in our year at Hogwarts...I was contemplating the possibility of that."

Hermione, who had been a silent observer up to that moment, spoke up as if musing. "It's rare, but it has happened before...there are three cases cited in Hogwarts: A History. All were under "Special cases" and expressly approved by the Headmaster of Hogwarts for "Confidential reasons"...but you said, sixth year? That is, indeed, strange." Hermione gave the matter a moment's contemplation, then shrugged. "But I assume I am right to say that we can do nothing about it? Well, then. Professor, I have something of rather great urg..."

She frowned as Ron's eyes widened and he made frantic gestures as if beseeching her to stop behind Remus. Then, shaking her head a little, she continued, "It's about Siri..."

She was abruptly cut off when Ron stepped in front of her, smiled nervously at Remus, and muttered, "Really nothing, Professor, Sir, I need to speak with Hermione for a moment, we'll be right back!" while tugging Hermione off to behind one of the large book shelves, leaving Harry and Remus to shrug with identical looks of incomprehension on their faces.

~

"What do you have to say for yourself?" The voice was cold, frosty as a deepest night on the darkest of winters.

"The boy is lost to us, M'Lord, but he is but an unworthy pawn. As am I, always, M'Lord." He knelt on the cold marble floor, still haughty despite his submissive position.

"Lucius, Lucius..." Voldemort caressed his cheek, once, with one cold, thin hand, to a slight shudder from the other, one which could be mistaken for a number of things. "What of Sirius Black?"

"For sixty nights now he has been unconscious, M'Lord. He is the first such subject to have such problems - the Keeper of the Portals says nothing but that he seems to have a natural...immunity, and that there is naught he can do to hasten the process. M'Lord, we could do this another way, surely, one faster and more certain..."

"Nothing good comes of haste, Lucius. It would be well for you to remember that. As such, you did mishandle the Ritual, and I need not even mention the pathetic attempt to gain possession of the Prophecy." Voldemort walked slowly around the kneeling figure, steps loud on the floor, echoing around the large room.

Thus, he missed the flash of fear that appeared in Lucius Malfoy's eyes for an instant. "Draco was not ready, M'Lord. I misread, and we did not have the depth of emotion required - but all is not lost. M'Lord, please allow me to try to recover him to our side."

"When, Lucius?" The voice was deliberate, close to his ear.

"Samhain, M'Lord..."

"Samhain it shall be, then."

~

Ron peeked furtively from the side of the bookcase, checking to see that no one was around, before he relaxed his grip on Hermione's hand. She snatched it away, and glared at her friend disapprovingly. "Ron, I have to tell Professor Lupin about the research I've done during the holidays...he might be able to help. Besides, he has the right to know if Sirius..."

"The right? To give him false hope? What if the Mirrors have nothing to do with the thing Sirius fell into? You know how the Professor is...he may not show it, but he is troubled, all the same. It is his choice, his decision to make if he wants to think Sirius is dead."

Ron crossed his arms, while Hermione tapped a foot impatiently and retorted, "Oh, then it isn't his prerogative to make an informed choice, decision? I still think we should tell him."

"And what about Harry? He's as close to Sirius as Professor Lupin and just as devastated by what happened to Sirius. He thinks it's his fault, bloody hell. And who knows what kind of consolation he could have gotten at that horrid place he has to stay at. He hasn't been returning my letters all summer."

Hermione began to look slightly uncomfortable at this. She clasped her hands, unclasped them again and started to run one hand down the spine of an ancient tome on the bookshelf before she spoke. "He hasn't been returning mine either, if you must know. And I am aware we've skirted any reference to Harry in our previous correspondences."

She sighed and lowered her hand to her side. "Well. I don't know. It may seem selfish of me, but I think Professor Lupin'd be more able to handle the disappointment if our quest of sorts comes to naught...and he has more resources at hand, more means, or rather skills, that would probably allow us to proceed much faster."

Ron sighed and grudgingly admitted that what Hermione said did make sense. "Professor Lupin has access to Dumbledore's library, and all kinds of strange but useful knowledge about the Dark Arts...The Dark Arts are probably involved in this, aren't they?"

Aside, he muttered, "For some reason they always are, with us that is."

Hermione raised an eyebrow and suppressed a grin at Ron's "surrender". "It seems so. None of the Mirrors, except perhaps the Mirror of Erised -- and even that is inherently malevolent, though in a much less direct manner -- seem to possess an intention of taking the user's well-being into account: rather the opposite, in fact."

Ron rolled his eyes as Hermione began musing to herself again. He tapped his foot in a practised manner until she noticed, blushed, and hastily dragged him back to where Harry and Lupin were waiting. No, they wouldn't tell either of them, not now, but soon...

~

Devyn leaned forward a little, slightly surprised. :You can mindspeak?:

Dumbledore answered in a more mundane fashion. "Only just that little. I can understand -- mindspeech, you call it?-- well enough, but any more than one- or two-word phrases I can't send. It isn't easy to learn, in any case, I suppose I don't have enough of the "shine", for that matter."

Devyn frowned, looking closely at the man, Dumbledore, he had said. He seemed to remember him as a figure of authority, somehow, despite his humility and easy manner. "Indeed...I suppose I got it from my mother. She's a squib, you know - or rather, they all thought her one. But the truth is that her magic is just a little...unconventional."

Suddenly, it came back to him, in a whole long, startling stream - First year at Hogwarts, the next few spent under private tutelage. His OWLs, spending time half-in, half-out, and finally fully within Rialle. "Headmaster...?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I see you are beginning to remember. It was the reason your mother was cautioned against using that particular skill of hers too often - it caused an unpleasant melding of past and present in the memories of the one involved, and took a lot of energy."

Devyn did not know whether to be relieved or shocked. "Then you know.

"I was meant to inherit the task of being Guardian of the Portals from my mother - that's where our family name, D'Portale, came from - after I completed my studies at Hogwarts. But after First Year, she withdrew me from the school and I...she was taken away. I felt bereft. She was all I had.

"She told me the last time we met, :Devyn, you are Guardian of the Portals. Remember that. You'll be safe until after your OWLs, and by then you'll be elsewhere.: I didn't know what she meant then. Shortly thereafter, I was taken to an isolated place.

"The Cloaked Ones, as I call them, were my teachers. So many voices I gave up trying to figure out which belonged to who. But I wasn't mistreated. Not free, yes, but I had food, lodging, clothes, even a small but sturdy German upright. Without that, I don't think I would have been able to bear it. No music." He shuddered. It was all coming back.

"I took the usual subjects for the OWLs, and if anyone noticed I seemed distracted a lot of the time they didn't comment. They didn't know." Devyn chuckled bitterly.

"Fools. Rialle was where part of me had gone. I can't describe it -- was it the past? Another world? I don't know. My time there was ephemeral, dream-like at first. Then it started to seem much more...real than the hired thugs, Muggles I'm sure, acting as bodyguards. They were so accepting, the people of Rialle. Accepting of a mere traveler of unknown origins such as I. It seemed so natural to want to stay, I never questioned how I came to know of it."

A faraway look was in Devyn's eyes, as Dumbledore listened silently. "My exams were a blur. Then I woke up one day in a field, for once not to the rough shaking my "keepers" were fond of. And...I knew it was Rialle. I...I couldn't remember how I had gotten there." He shook his head, confused. Steelfrost, Romulus, Danielle...all slipping out of his grasp, why, why? There was something he ought to remember -

Just then, Dumbledore spoke, quietly, "You had this bag with you, and all you remember was...'Devyn, you are Guardian of the Portals.' "

Devyn looked up, amazed, at Dumbledore. "Yes...yes. Just that. You know what that's about?"

"I have my suspicions. Your mother had a talent rare among wizards. It is also one that is can usually be manifested for only a few moments, at most. Among Muggles, well...have you heard of people claiming to have memory of past lives?"

Before Devyn could answer, Dumbledore continued. "It's only a little like that. Your case is far more complicated, from what you've said. I knew your mother, a long while ago, and I have some idea of her unique abilities. She sent you back to...Rialle? The whole thing is chancy at best. Once there, will the subject remember anything of this world? Will he be tempted to stay? And most importantly, how will he return? And, indeed, how did you return?"

Devyn was shaking his head. "I...I don't know. I can't remember, I can't..." His vision was misting over with tears of anger. He felt so useless.

Dumbledore's heart felt a twinge of something as he looked at the boy trying to fight tears back. How could she do this...? But it was clear. She had not listened. She had loved.

He laid a hand slowly, hesitantly, on Devyn's shaking shoulders. The boy looked up, violet eyes rimmed with red. Dumbledore gentled his tone, reminding himself not to blame the boy. "We can talk about that later. You'll remember everything in time...would you like to go through your satchel? Maybe --"

But Devyn was already sitting up and tugging on the strings of the book bag. He rummaged in it for a while before triumphantly cradling a slightly battered case in his hands. He whispered something too low for Dumbledore to hear, and the case opened with a soft 'click'.

Devyn ran gentle fingers over the gleaming surface of the three parts in the case. Breathing a sigh of relief, he looked up and explained, "Sapphirazura, my flute. Steelfrost gave her to me..."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Steelfrost?"

Devyn's eyes widened, and he nodded in surprise. "Steelfrost, my master and mentor. Yes...he looks like you."

Dumbledore smiled, "It seems that stories about people being fated to meet do carry a smidgen of truth in them. And...do you remember what you called Remus? Romulus, or some such?"

Devyn's eyes became hooded. Memories of Sapphirazura, and only the times of music he had spent in Rialle(which were several but by no means everything), were returning, but he could guess the nature of what had gone on between him and Romulus...so he shook his head and said nothing.

Dumbledore did not seem disappointed; he only patted Devyn lightly on the shoulder and said, "All in time, boy, all in time." Devyn nodded, and began to remove the rest of the items.

~

Draco Malfoy glanced at his mother. Her manner was nervous, eyes darting from side to side in worry. Lowering his gaze to the slightly grimy floor of the taxi, he frowned. She had been so for the whole of the holidays. And now they were lowered to taking Muggle transportation, something he never thought he, a Malfoy, would have to do.

But Mother was paranoid about dangers any magical signature would reveal. He supposed she was justified in her belief - Side-Along Apparation released more energy than normal Apparating did, and he wasn't practiced enough in the latter. These things could be traced, if one were determined enough. For a moment he cursed himself, for not being strong enough to resist, to protect his mother, to prevent him from doing those things.

Hastily, he pushed the memories aside. He did not know whether it was worse that he had, somewhere, actually thought it was interesting, or that the proceedings had resulted indirectly in them now being on the run.

And, in any case, of course the Dark Lord would want the son of his most faithful follower, though said follower was now in Azkaban ('But not for long, you know that,' whispered an insidious voice at the back of his mind. He ignored it.), back at his side.

His father had said, the last time they saw each other, "Great things are planned for you, Draco. Do not worry that it was unsuccessful this time, for we will prevail the next. Isn't that true, love?" The elder Malfoy had lightly touched his mother's hair at this juncture. Yet the expression in his eyes had not been of any tender emotion.

Draco glared, piercingly, through the foggy window of the car. He did not understand how he had ever mistaken his father for having anything akin to love for him. Of course, that had been partially due to the spell he had woven over his Mother and himself, the one that had been weakened by the Dark Lord's attempt in transferring his bond with Potter, and almost broken after that.

He wasn't quite sure yet, how Mother had managed to do it. But she had, and it was as if a veil had been lifted off his entire being, one that had, since his birth, plagued him.

That was the reason they were on the run. Not only from the Dark Lord, but more importantly, from Lucius Malfoy.

~

Dumbledore left the boy in the room, busy with memories, likely. There was something Devyn was holding back...but Dumbledore did not know what, though he knew he had no right to ask.

He had been told to listen to the boy and protect him, but what from? In any case, he would bend the rules to allow the boy entrance to Hogwarts: his OWL results for most of the subjects were frankly impressive, especially for potions. Severus would be glad to have such a brilliant pupil.

And he would make certain Remus returned to teach: the Ministry of Magic had been shown to be corrupt, and their credibility would be irretrievably lost soon unless Cornelius were deposed. Plans were already being laid to accomplish that.

He also had to contact Andromeda about the course...Dumbledore looked down at his desk, and a line from the Muggle book of poems he had been reading when Remus arrived caught his eye. He smiled, a rare smile in these troubled times.

" 'Miles to go before I sleep', indeed."

~

A/N: Sapphirazura is pronounced sa-FIR-a-ZUR-a, while Devyn sounds much like Devon.