Concordia Discors

CONCORDIA DISCORS

Chapter 4

"Courage is not defined by those who fought and did not fall, but by those who fought, fell and rose again."

~ Unknown

Harry sat back in the comfortable, high-backed chair, barely daring to believe his good fortune. Just one day before Vernon Dursley had treated him as if he were lower than the scum, of the earth, and just three days before all the Dursleys had hated him with a fiery passion- or at least, he'd thought they had.

And now here he was, sitting in a fancy restaurant in London. He and Dudley had both been told to order whatever they wanted, no matter how expensive it was. After all, his aunt and uncle pointed out, it wasn't every day that your son joined your nephew at a very prestigious school of learning. Aunt Petunia had nearly shed tears at the realization that her 'darling boy' would be gone for ten months out of the year, but her pride in her son for being so talented would not allow her to deny him this chance. And when Dudley promised to owl her every week, she calmed down quite a bit.

Harry eyed his steak once more. He would have loved to continue eating, but he couldn't hold any more. Not if he wanted the dessert Uncle Vernon had promised. Now, if Ron was here...

He sat and waited patiently while Dudley and Uncle Vernon finished up their food. Aunt Petunia had finished eating long ago, and had moments before excused herself to the ladies room. When she returned, Dudley and Uncle Vernon had both set their forks down, and Uncle Vernon waved over a waiter to order their desert. Harry helped himself to a large banana split- he wanted the best he could get, as a little voice in the back of his head was warning him that this wouldn't last for long.

If he only knew.

After another twenty minutes of eating, joking, and listing off the different Quidditch teams to Dudley (No one could hear them, after all--Uncle Vernon had requested a private table.), Uncle Vernon paid the bill and they all left the restaurant.

It was late, nearing ten o'clock, when they stepped outside. Though they had arrived at the restaurant at seven that evening, they had spent a considerable time on their food. They had had several courses and racked up a bill that Vernon cheerfully informed them had exceeded one hundred and fifty dollars. He seemed very gleeful at spending so much money on one meal... If he didn't go back to normal, Harry suspected the Dursleys would be broke in a month.

They had a long walk to get to their car, and as they walked Harry pulled his coat tighter around himself- it was surprisingly chilly for a late June evening. He should have been getting warmer with his coat on tighter, but he wasn't... Just the opposite, in fact, it was getting colder by the minute. At the back of his mind a quiet scream began, one he hadn't heard for a year...

Harry stopped short where he stood. "Dudley," he said quietly, "do you feel that?"

Dudley stared at him, confused. "Feel wha--" he began. Suddenly, a chill seized him too, and he began to shake. "Oh, shit." he breathed.

Suddenly a shadow fell over where they stood. Why was there a shadow? Harry wondered. They were standing directly under a street light; there shouldn't be a--Taking a deep breath, Harry looked up.

The stars had disappeared. In place of the sky was a mass of swarming black figures. As Harry watched, one Dementor swooped down about a mile behind them, and the scream that echoed through the city streets told him the Dementor had landed.

He wanted desperately to stay, to fight, but he fought that urge. He had a family to protect, he reminded himself. They couldn't defend themselves against this.

"Run," he said quietly.

Vernon and Petunia stared at him. "Harry, what--" Petunia began, her voice shaking.

"No time, Mom," Dudley said. "It's Dementors. Run!"

They didn't need to be told a third time. Petunia shrieked and seized Dudley by the arm, dragging him down the street. A second later, Vernon did the same to Harry. They ran past dark, deserted alleyways and closed stores, but when they passed a store that Harry felt looked promising, he skidded to a halt, nearly pulling Vernon to the ground.

"In here!" he yelled.

Petunia and Dudley backtracked, and as Harry Alohomora'd the store open, they ran inside, Vernon following close behind. He turned in the doorway and stared at Harry. "Aren't you coming?" he asked.

"In a minute," Harry replied determinedly. "I have to put some wards up first. Close the door. I'll bang on the door and tell you it's me when I'm done, then you let me in, all right?"

Uncle Vernon nodded and moved to shut the door, but Dudley was staring at him suspiciously.

"Wait, Dad," he said suddenly, moving forward. "I'll stay with him. You know, just in case anything shows up, I can bang on the door while he fights it off, so we can get away faster."

His father looked startled, but nodded when he realized Dudley would not be persuaded otherwise. "All right, son," he said gruffly. "Be careful." Then he looked past Dudley to Harry and did the unthinkable. Pulling Harry into a one-armed hug, he said quietly, "And you too."

Harry stared at him, shocked, but nodded, as did Dudley. Uncle Vernon slowly shut the door, and as Harry began putting up wards he'd learned only that afternoon from the books he wasn't supposed to have, Dudley turned to him.

"You aren't gonna come right in, are you? You're going to run off and fight those things," he said calmly.

Harry stared at him, shocked for the second time in the span of a minute. "No, I'm not." he replied. "What makes you think I'd--"

"Because you took a long time to decide to run." Dudley pointed out. "It only took me a second to realize we had to get out of there, but you were struggling with having to leave people in danger. And as son as you could, you found a way to keep us safe and save everyone else."

Harry blinked at him, then turned his attention back to the wards. The screams were growing closer; they didn't have much time. After another minute, every ward was in place. He turned to Dudley. "Time to go in," he said quietly.

"No," Dudley replied, just as quietly. "I'm staying with you."

"You can't fight--"

"Harry, I'm a wizard, remember? I've never been trained, but you could teach me the spell. I learn pretty damn quickly under pressure, and this--" He waved his hand at the surroundings. "--is a lot of pressure."

Harry was still staring at him. "It took me a long time to learn this, and that was with previous training in other spells."

"Harry, look around. I'll get it. You can't save all these people by yourself. Let me at least try. If I can't do it, I promise I'll go inside, all right?"

Harry nodded eagerly. There was no way Dudley would learn the spell this fast, he would have to go inside. And then he'd be safe. "All right. Do you have your wand on you?" he asked.

"Of course, you dolt." Dudley replied lightly. "With you telling me how dangerous things are, do you really think I'd go without it?"

Harry ignored the insult. Dudley was, after all, still Dudley. "Okay then. This is what you do. I need you to focus on your happiest memory. The best one you can find."

"Well, that should be easy enough. It was just this morning, after all..."

Harry blinked, staring at him. Then he shook his head to clear it of the confusing thoughts that had piled up. "All right, got it?" When Dudley nodded, Harry spoke again. "Now, raise your wand, and repeat after me, 'Expecto Patronum!'"

Dudley raised his wand and shouted the incantation as loudly as he could. Harry stared in shock at the sight of a large silver hawk flying out of Dudley's wand. When Dudley turned to him with a grin, he pushed back the urge to simply open the door and shove him through. The fact that Dudley had managed that spell on his first try was amazing. He would definitely be useful. As long as he could hold his own when the Dementors were around. But then, Harry mused, when they'd been attacked the year before, Dudley had had the presence of mind to blame someone and punch him, and so he would still be alert. "All right." Harry said again. "Let's go, then."

They had barely taken two steps when a Dementor whizzed down in front of them. Through the fog that was steadily taking over his mind, Harry managed a coherent thought. "You try, Dudley," he said calmly.

A glance at Dudley, while never taking his eyes of the Dementor, showed that he was terrified, but determined. The Dementor advanced on Dudley as Harry melted into the shadows, and Dudley gulped. Raising his wand, Dudley screamed "Expecto Patronum!" The silver hawk shot out of his wand once more, flying forward and driving the Dementor away. Harry stared and walked back to Dudley's side.

Dudley turned to him, still looking terrified, though slightly proud. "So, how'd I do?"

Harry just stared. Then he shook his head to clear it once more. "You'll do," he said with a wry grin.

Suddenly, a scream erupted from an alleyway to their left. "That sounds like--" Harry began, startled.

"A little girl," Dudley finished. Without another word, without even looking at one another, they bolted for the alleyway. They skidded to a halt to see two Dementors, one leaning over a teenage girl, in the process of lowering his hood. Behind her, Harry could see a five-year-old girl, who the teen was apparently trying to protect. The other Dementor stood off to the side, trying to get to the little girl who was almost crushed against the brick wall.

Raising their wands at the same time, Harry and Dudley each aimed fore a different Dementor. "Expecto Patronum!" they shouted.

Prongs burst from Harry's wand at a speed he had never moved before, racing for the Dementor in front of the teenage girl. The Dementor screamed, a sound that would haunt Harry forever, and spun to face him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other Dementor spin and heard that bone-chilling scream again as this one, too, advanced on him.

"Go," Harry whispered to Dudley. Nodding to show he understood, Dudley eased off to the side, and carefully made his way to the teen and the little girl. Distracted by Harry, the two Dementors didn't seem to notice.

Harry watched anxiously, trying to delay cursing the Dementors until he was sure the little girl and her caretaker were gone. He backed away slowly as the Dementors moved forward, staying three steps out of their reach every second. Past the Dementor on the left, he could see Dudley helping the teen girl up a ladder on the back wall, then handing the little girl up to her. The teen disappeared over the rooftop and, holding her breath, dropped down to the street below with the little girl cradled in her arms. As Harry watched out of the corner of his eye, he saw a door open, and the two girls were dragged inside- the same store in which his aunt and uncle remained.

Unfortunately for Harry, he had been so busy worrying about the two girls that he hadn't noticed that he was cornered, nor that Prongs had dissolved. At some point while trying to watch the two girls escape to safety, he had moved slightly to the right, and was now against the side of a store. He looked up, fighting the chill in his veins that was threatening to overpower his heart, and struggled for a memory happy enough. His mind flashed past Hermione and Ron, past Ginny, Luna, and Neville, past the day Malfoy had been turned into a ferret, and stopped, shockingly, on the hug his uncle had just given him. "Expecto Patronum!" he screamed, and Prongs shot out of his wand once again, charging down the Dementors and driving them away. Harry leaned shakily against the stonewall, trying to catch his breath. Standing up once again, he saw a third dementor fly off, and realized that Dudley had been fighting another while he'd been trapped.

Dudley turned to him with concern. "Ready to go, man?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes." He concentrated on that happy memory once again, forcing energy into himself, and ran forward and out of the alleyway, Dudley at his heels.

Neither one had any idea that hundreds of miles away, someone was plotting their demise.

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Bellatrix Lestrange kneeled at her master's feet, excitement shining in her eyes. "My Lord," she said throatily, "We have received word from London. It seems Harry Potter and his cousin are attempting to thwart the Dementor attack."

"Does it?" the demon replied from his throne. He stood gracefully and smiled down at Bellatrix, then paced past her down the green velvet carpet laid across the floor. "Harry Potter is a rather persistent mosquito, isn't he?" he said with a laugh. "I must give him credit, he is certainly brave. Foolish boy." He mock-sighed. "He could have been great, Bella, he really could have. If I had only thought of it, if he had only accepted my offer four years ago, why, he could be almost as powerful as me right now." He laughed again, a sound that could be described only as evil, coming from someone who could only be described as evil personified. "But alas, how the mighty do fall..."

Coming to a decision, he spun and walked back up to Bellatrix, who was still kneeling on the floor, her hands clasped demurely in her lap. "You and Lucius, my dear, will go to London. Kill Harry Potter's family, but bring Potter to me. Don't kill him. He's already seen as a hero. It would not help us if he were to become a martyr. We'll worry about his friends later, I suppose... Maybe a little more planning. I believe his Mudblood friend is on a vacation in Spain, that would be difficult to manage. We will wait until she returns, then strike out and kill her and her family, and all of Potter's foolish friends." He paused for a moment, considering. "And perhaps Mister Lovegood and his daughter should die as well. After all, they did help to publicize my return... They cost us a great deal of time. Has there been any luck, my dear, in determining who the sixth person at the Ministry was? We have identified Mr. and miss Weasley, the Mudblood, Mr. Longbottom, and of course Potter, but you tell me there was a sixth child and yet, I have no idea who she is."

"We will find her, my Lord." Bellatrix replied quickly. "We just need a little more time."

"Very well," the Dark Lord replied. "Go." He hissed. Bellatrix stood and turned to walk away, curtsying as she passed him. "Oh and, Bella," Voldemort called after her. Bellatrix turned with a coy smile, already knowing what was coming. "When you return, you will serve me."

"Of course, my Lord," Bellatrix replied, her smile widening. As she left the castle to get Lucius, her thoughts turned to her impending adultery. Rodulphus would understand, she was sure of that.

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Harry and Dudley had made it through five city blocks in the space of an hour. It comforted Harry to know how many people they had saved. Of course, once they had moved through an area, nothing could stop the Dementors from coming back and attacking the people who thought they were safe... But the number of people out and about had diminished very quickly when people had started screaming.

Suddenly, Harry's heart leapt into his throat. He had made the mistake of looking to his right and saw, lying on the ground, an old man who was now immobile. He stared at the man and swallowed down the bile that rose suddenly in his throat. Dudley, seeing the direction of his gaze, took his cousin by the arm.

"Come on, Harry," Dudley said gently. "There's nothing we can do now."

Stifling their rage, the pair of wizards moved on.

An hour later, they had covered another six blocks. Harry was moving faster than ever after the knowledge that someone had lost their soul. I let that old man die, he thought, I let it happen.

"No, Harry." Dudley said with conviction. "You didn't let him die."

Harry stared at him in shock. "Did you read my--"

Dudley laughed. "Nah, mate, just looked at your face." His laughter faded, and his expression turned serious. "We really do need to go on, Harry."

Harry sighed tiredly and quickened his pace a bit. "I know."

They encountered about 5 more Dementors and 10 would-be victims in the next twenty minutes. Harry could feel his strength failing. Never before had he experienced such drawn-out contact with Dementors. He realized at that moment how completely unprepared he was for a battle with Lord Voldemort.

The part of town they had reached was an unnerving one indeed. All around them, windows were shattered, and there were large chunks of glass all over the ground. Small fires had broken out in patches along the street, and car alarms were screaming furiously. It was late now, nearly 2 in the morning, and Harry wondered at that moment if his aunt and uncle were still safe. They must be beside themselves with worry, he thought guiltily. I hope they're all right.

Rounding another corner, Harry and Dudley stared in shock and fear at the sight of ten black-hooded figures blocking their path. Wearily, Harry raised his wand, preparing to fight. Suddenly, one of the Dementors zoomed up into the air, and just as quickly swooped back down, flying right into Harry and knocking him to the ground. His mother's screaming in the back of his head grew louder and louder...

Not Harry, please no, not Harry...

Harry's wand fell out of his hand and rolled a few inches away as Dudley swore and raised his own. As Dudley began to shot the incantation, the other nine dementors glided forward. Two grabbed Dudley by the arms and forced him back against a store wall, while a third stopped in front of him and lowered his hood. Two of the others moved to Harry and placed their rotted hands on his arms, pinning him down with a strength Harry had hoped they didn't possess. The dementor who had knocked him down lowered his hood and Harry struggled to reach for his wand...

"Not Harry!"

As the man's voice broke through the darkness he'd been thrown into, suddenly Harry's mind registered the loud cracks that had sounded moments before. From his left Harry heard Arthur Weasley's voice bellow "Expecto Patronum!" and saw a silver grizzly bear lumber toward the Dementors pinning him down. The Dementor about to kiss Harry looked up with a shriek of rage and something like fear, and then swooped away before the bear could touch it. The other two let Harry go and swooped into the sky again as well, while Alastor Moody and Remus Lupin drove away the Dementors pinning Dudley down. Getting to his feet and spinning around, Harry saw Kingsley Shacklebolt chasing three other Dementors down the street with two silver serpents- Kingsley had two wands? Harry realized. Noticing his wand was not in his hand, he bent down and quickly picked it up. I'll need that, he thought.

Harry looked over at Dudley and saw Remus and Moody pulling him to his feet. He turned again to look at Arthur, who was white as a ghost.

"Harry," Arthur said urgently, "You have to get out of here. Where are your aunt and uncle?"

Harry struggled to think through the haze in his mind. His arm was throbbing and he wasn't sure why. Glancing at his arm, he realized there was a piece of glass through it.

"We- we left them at a store about... it must have been- how far do you think, Dudley?"

Dudley thought for a moment, still struggling to catch his breath. "About eight blocks that-a way, I think--" he replied, pointing with his left hand as he spoke.

"All right," Remus said quietly. "We have to get you back to your family, you two, and get you all to safety. Arthur, should we apparate?"

"No," Arthur replied just as quietly. It seemed both were afraid that if they spoke too loud, they would attract unneeded attention. "Too risky. Harry and Dudley are both very shaken, they would probably get splinched."

Dudley winced. Although he had no idea what getting 'splinched' meant, it sounded very unpleasant, and that was all he needed to know.

"Well, we can't use a Portkey, that would alert Fudge..." Remus scratched at his chin as he thought.

"We'll have to walk." Moody cut in helpfully.

Remus and Arthur sighed tiredly. "Thank you, Alastor," Remus said cheerfully. "That was exactly what I didn't want to say."

"Any time, Remus." Alastor replied with a grin.

The five wizards set off at a quick pace. Harry and Dudley found themselves being almost dragged by Remus and Arthur as they made their way up the street--Remus took the task of dragging Dudley, because the werewolf in him made him much stronger than Arthur was, and Dudley, though now muscular instead of obese, was still no pixie. Moody took up the rear, watching carefully for nay sign of trouble they didn't already know about. As they entered the next block, they joined up with Kingsley, who looked a little worse for the wear after his fight with the three Dementors. Kingsley joined Moody at the back of the group, and all six of them winced as they heard the bone-chilling sound of a Dementor shrieking form several blocks behind them. The black-clad figure sailed overhead, not even noticing them, as it shrieked with fear.

"That'll be Albus," Remus said with a slight grin, and the other three adults laughed.

"Dumbledore?" Dudley asked Harry in a whisper, and Harry nodded.

Harry's legs were aching violently, and his heart was pounding so fast he was amazed it hadn't come right out of his chest. His head felt heavier than a brick and it was taking all the strength he had just to keep moving ahead. It didn't help that the wizard dragging him was setting such a fast pace, although, he supposed, it was better to be incredibly exhausted than incredibly dead, or worse, incredibly soulless. To his left, Dudley looked no better, though he was doing a much better job of walking than Harry. He didn't yet have enough bad memories to relive, so he wasn't affected as badly as Harry, but he would catch up. Harry had no doubt about that. The barrier that had once separated them was gone and with it went Dudley's temporary safety. He was willingly entering into the middle of a war, and he was no longer untouched by the evil in the world.

They passed through five more blocks with relatively no trouble. Harry could see Arthur and Remus tense up in front of him, and sense Moody and Kingsley tensing up behind him. He understood their concern. They hadn't been attacked in a long time, and the Dementor that had flown overhead was traveling ahead of them. The Dementors were gathering.

Suddenly Harry's head grew even heavier, and he fell to his knees on the ground. His mother's screams grew louder and louder, and he heard Arthur and Remus shout with alarm. On the streets in front of them, all spread out, stood close to thirty Dementors. Harry heard everything as if it were very far away. Distantly, he heard Dudley convincing the others to let them go, that they could make it back on their own, he felt himself being pulled to his feet by Arthur and Moody--he saw, through the dark edges of his mind, Remus staring at him in fear.

"Go," Harry croaked. "Go. We'll get back on our own. Don't let them win."

After a moment's indecision, Remus nodded, and he, Moody, Arthur, and Kingsley took off into the fray. Harry saw Albus Dumbledore apparate a few feet away and take down five dementors with one spell. Then his mind went dark again, and he could barely see once more He felt Dudley's hand tugging on his arm, pulling him into a back alley. His vision cleared somewhat and he saw a ladder on the back wall, much like the alley where they had encountered the second and third Dementors. He grasped the ladder and climbed up it, Dudley pushing him up all the way. When he reached the top, he stepped to the side, and held out a hand to pull Dudley up. They raced along the rooftops of stores, restaurants, apartment buildings, as the order members battled the Dementors below. Harry caught sight of Professor McGonagall on the ground battling two Dementors at once. She didn't look good, he realized with concern, and moved to jump down and help her, but Dudley pulled him back.

"Moody's got it!" Dudley shouted to him, and looking down again, Harry saw that Moody had indeed come to McGonagall's aid.

His lungs were ready to burst, and he could feel a needle-sharp pain in his ribs. From that point on they didn't see a single Dementor, except for a few flying overhead to join the battle. One greedy Dementor swooped down and glided toward them, but Dudley's hawk shot towards it and it flew away, robes smoking. A few more minutes, and Dudley skidded to a stop.

"We're here," he said quietly.

Harry took a deep breath and moved forward. "I'll go first," he muttered.

Dudley looked at him with concern, but he bit his tongue. "All right. Be careful, mate."

Harry took another deep breath, moving toward the edge of the rooftop. Closing his eyes, he placed one hand on the edge and vaulted to the ground.

His feet hit with a sharp thud and he collapsed. To his right he could hear Dudley drop, then struggle to his feet. Harry pushed himself up and realized he couldn't see a thing. Why was it so blurry? Then he laughed at himself for not noticing. His glasses were cracked He pulled them off and tapped them with his wand, muttering quietly, "Reparo!"

Then he turned to the store behind hi and knocked sharply. "Uncle Vernon?" he called, as loudly as he dared. "Aunt Petunia? It's us!"

The door swung open and Harry and Dudley found themselves pulled into a bone-crushing hug. "Oh, thank heavens." Petunia whispered, tears streaming down her face. "We were so worried... My dear boys..."

Then from behind them came a voice that made Harry's blood run cold. He looked at his uncle and saw that his face was white with fear, and then pulled out of his aunt's gasp and spun around, pushing her backwards as he went.

As his eyes met the eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange, he swore he could commit murder and never feel guilty.

"Well, well, well..." Lucius Malfoy whispered from Bellatrix's right. "What have we here?"

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Fifteen-year-old Adriana Saint-Claire ran through the alleyways without looking back. With sheer determination only, she was able to keep a solid grip on the five-year-old girl that was clinging to her as she raced toward... Hell, I don't even know what, she admitted bravely to herself. Callista Reynolds, the little girl whose life she had been entrusted to protect, had her arms wrapped so tight around Ria's neck that they were nearly cutting off her oxygen supply. Her lungs were burning so terribly that she could feel the knives that were not real piercing her skin, breaking through her ribs effortlessly. Her throat burned, so what little air she managed to get hurt her. After another mile, she simply couldn't carry Callie any longer, no matter how small she was. Still struggling to breathe, Ria pried Callie's arms from around her neck and placed her gently on the ground, kneeling in front of her. Reaching out, she gently brushed stray hairs from Callie's face, and then smiled at the little girl. She's so young, Ria thought, too young for this...

So am I, whispered a voice in the back of her mind.

"Callie, sweetheart," Ria began... It was taking all her strength to keep her voice form quivering. She knew Callie was already scared, but there was no use in frightening her further. "Do you think you can run for a little while?"

Callie bit her lip and nodded as a small, hesitant smile spread across her face.

"Good girl," Ria said calmly, smiling back. "Now come on, honey, we're gonna keep going till we meet a nice man or a nice lady, all right?"

Again, Callie nodded.

"All right," Ria said again. Taking a deep breath and getting back to her feet, she sighed. "All right," she muttered to herself. She stared off into the distance, trying to determine a route to take. Out of nowhere the back of her head began to prickle. Something's coming, she thought, fear pounding in her veins. No time to stand here.

"Let's go," she said, taking Callie's hand and tugging her forward slightly. Tiny little Callie broke into a run, following only two steps behind Ria for a good five minutes. Ria could hear her breathing harshly and knew that it was taking a toll on her. More than herself, Callie needed to stay safe. She needed to be able to run away.

Deciding that Callie's life was more important than her comfort, Ria picked the little girl up again and continued to run. They passed dozens of streets littered with wreckage and flames, and on the ground at her feet lay about seven bodies. Shaking with terror inside, Ria ran for what felt like ages, passing many people in cloaks, some in black, others in many different colors who were fighting the ones in black. She passed an ancient man in a dark purple cloak who was brandishing the same kind of wooden stick those two boys had had at a masked man who was waving a similar wooden stick... although his looked more like a twig. Laughing at the double entendre she had accidentally come up with, Ria kept going on a burst of confidence. That was all that fueled her as she ran forward in the dark, past battle after battle.

Finally, the time came when she could not run anymore. Callie had long since begun to whimper in fright, and was once again clinging to her tight enough to cut off her circulation. Ria had not taken in a single breath for three minutes while continuing to run. Her head felt heavier than a brick and her legs felt like spaghetti. Balancing was incredibly hard- she felt so dizzy that she was literally weaving where she stood. Gently, she put Callie down again, and the little girl stood silently, her whimpers stopped, as she stared at her baby-sitter in concern.

"Ri?" Callie whispered. "What's wrong?"

Ria pressed a hand to her chest as she struggled to breathe, then pulled it away and stood up straight, sending the girl a reassuring smile. "Noting, Callie, nothing is--"

Her voice died. The back of her head had started to prickle again, and she knew that this time, who or whatever was coming, this time she wouldn't get away. She glanced around desperately out of the corners of her eyes, trying to find some way to save her tiny charge. With little time to spare, her eyes fell on a black, bald man who stood somewhere across the street, battling two of the masked men. He looked up and his eyes met hers, and she quickly bent down to speak to Callie, while keeping one eye on the mysterious man.

"Listen to me, sweetie. I need you to run right across the street to that man over there, all right? The one who's looking at us, do you see him?" Desperation laced her ouce as she continued. "Tell me what he looks like, Callie."

Callie looked across the street at the man, then back at her. "He's big and he has no hair. And his skin is brown."

Ria laughed in spite of everything and hugged the little girl. "I need you to run across the street to him, right now. He'll take care of you, all right?"

Callie looked at her nervously, then at the man, then back at her. Moving forward quickly, Callie hugged Ria's legs then raced across the street as fast as her little legs could carry her. Ria watched carefully to be sure that Callista reached the man safely, and met his eyes once more. Please keep her safe, she pleaded desperately. She's already lost so much.

And when the man picked Callista Reynolds up and ran to the elderly man she had seen earlier, she knew somehow that Callie would be okay.

Her relief was short-lived. In all her time ensuring Callie's safety, she had made no efforts for her own. A shadow fell over her and she looked up. In front of her stood two men who were also brandishing wooden sticks, which also looked like twigs.

"Will you look at this one?" The first man said to the second. "Isn't she a pretty little thing?"

The second man guffawed and reached out to grab her arm. Terrified but as always defiant, Adriana Saint-Claire moved her own arm up and knocked his away. "Oh, she's fiery, too," the second man whispered. "The master will like that."

And Adriana's world went black.

She would wish, five hours later, that she had never woken up.