The Road Less Traveled

Chapter 6: Betrayal and Imperfection

- and that's not all I see

One of you here dining, one of my twelve chosen will leave to betray me

-Jesus Christ Superstar

The Nightmare Life-in-Death was she,

Who thicks man's blood with cold.

The naked hulk alongside came,

And the twain were casting dice;

'The game is done! I've won! I've won!'

Quoth she, and whistles thrice.

Four times fifty living men

(And I heard nor sigh nor groan),

With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,

They dropped down one by one.

-Samuel Taylor Coleridge, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

-Rudyard Kipling, If-

She'd told them, curse them. She'd told them all they'd asked, all she knew. She'd given and given of herself until there was nothing left, under the compulsion of veritaserum. Nothing left but bitterness and hate for them at how they'd forced her to betray her master. She hadn't even brought the damnable traitor down with her.

Curse the girl, whatever she was. What sort of weapon did Albus Dumbledore harbor? There weren't even rumors of a powerful being in the form of a girl in residence at Hogwarts. And now she was locked up, unable to return, even at hermaster's call if, indeed, he would. Her humiliation would be well-known; she was locked in this box of a room without even a face to curse and spit upon except for those in her mind.

She would have killed herself before telling them everything, had they not confiscated the wand and stiletto.

And still they had had to restrain her and remove the spell that would destroy her before she voiced an answer to their questions.

They'd milked her dry of her loyalty and would put a stop to the Dark Lord's plans before releasing the news of her capture. There was little satisfaction in the fact that they still hadn't discovered the whereabouts of Xiomara Hooch.

In the dark room, devoid of any sign of humanity or hope, it began to complete the insanity that had begun to descend upon her since her imprisonment in Azkaban not so many years ago.

"I am Bellatrix Lestrange," she whispered, "and I will have my revenge. My lord will reward his faithful servants."

But was she still considered faithful?

A murmur in the dim, doorless, windowless room to the cold, unyielding stone.

"I am Bellatrix Lestrange."

---------------------

Eriol waited patiently, his normal, creepy grin the first thing passengers saw as they left the plane. Several nearly turned right back around, and a few searched for a security guard.

He merely ignored them, thankful that this second visit to the airport was so much quieter.

A familiar aura drew close. His grin widened almost imperceptibly and a certain, different warmth touched his dark blue eyes as an older woman stepped off into the terminal.

"Kaho," he greeted warmly. "Back so soon?"

She shot him an amused glance as they strolled toward the baggage claim. "Someone sent me a message last night through the oracle of the moon, requesting my presence," Kaho said, with the slightest emphasis on the first word. "That person had the temple believing him to be a god."

"Remarkable," Eriol commented delightedly with a wide grin. He coughed a bit when she raised an eyebrow at him. "How was the Philippines?" he added hastily.

"Wonderful," Kaho said happily. "The old priestess of the moon temple I stayed at taught me quite a few new spells, as well as a new ritual for blessing. I taught a group of acolytes some of the basics of astral projection."

She paused and rummaged through her pockets. "I brought you something, but I don't remember where I put it. . ."

Eriol sweatdropped. "I'm sure you'll find whatever it is soon, but we should be going now."

The two of them retrieved her luggage in companionable silence. Kaho knew that nothing short of pocky (or failing that, liberal amounts of alcohol) would make him talk if he wasn't ready.

She headed for the exit, but Eriol stopped her and led her to a secluded corner. "We're taking the shortcut," he told her, and teleported the two of them home.

"What's been going on while I was gone?" she asked, steadying herself on the railing. Normally Eriol preferred not to rely on magic when ordinary means would provide the same service. Most sorcerers and sorceresses were of a similar mentality. "And why is it so quiet?" she added upon realizing what was missing: the noise of his two guardians.

"Spinel is doing some research for me in the library. Ruby Moon is recovering from the mission I sent her on." He led her to his laboratory. "This is an emergency; there's not a moment to lose. You're the only one with training in genetics that I was comfortable bringing in this late in the game." He gestured to a row of tubes and plastic bags. "I need you to study this DNA. Compare to both sorcerers and non-magical people. I have a feeling that it can give us a critical piece of the puzzle we're missing."

She nodded absentmindedly as she looked around the room. "Where did the DNA come from?" she asked.

"Sakura, Syaoran, and myself discovered a community of wizards and witches."

Kaho raised an eyebrow, her mind working furiously to understand the impact this discovery would have on the world.

"We're watching them in the middle of their war against their Dark Lord Voldemort."

"Spying, you mean," she cut in with a grin.

Eriol shrugged carelessly. "We want to know how we missed them all of these centuries, and why direct magical attacks don't work very well on them."

"The Mistress of the Cards, the Li clan leader, and half of Clow Reed's reincarnation," she mused as she went to wash her hands. "This is an emergency."

"Forgive me, but I need to be escorting Tomoyo to the Ministry of Magic. I don't think I'll have a chance to return here, but don't hesitate to make yourself comfortable." Eriol grinned. "After all, you do live here."

He disappeared before she had a chance to speak, but she simply turned to her work, burying the flame of curiosity within her. She could wait. And after all, the sooner she finished this task, the sooner she would see him and ask him the many questions he'd left with her.

------------------------

"Hello, Tomoyo."

The girl looked up above her tea cup to see Eriol standing before her. "What were you up to?" she asked pleasantly as he took a seat across from her.

"Simply seeing he affairs of my house," he replied smoothly.

"Liar," Tomoyo replied amusedly.

Eriol sighed. "You're too perceptive," he complained as he signaled the waitress for a cup of tea.

"Are you going to tell me?" she asked, taking another sip of her drink.

"I had a visitor," he explained cautiously, resting his head on his hand. "I needed help, so I called for someone with scientific training."

"I didn't know Mizuki-sensei had scientific training," Tomoyo replied calmly, her eyes never leaving his face. She treasured the stunned look on his face, and giggled, unable to hold her laughter in.

"I hate to think I'm that transparent," he managed at last as the waitress set a cup of tea in front of him.

"You're not," Tomoyo reassured him. "You're my most challenging friend yet. It's just that your eyes seem to light up and you project a feeling of warmth whenever you mention Mizuki-sensei."

"I must remember to watch myself," Eriol muttered peevishly. "And she's not your teacher anymore. You might consider dropping the honorifics when we're in the Ministry."

"Of course," she said amiably as he downed his tea. "But perhaps we should pick up food at a grocery store before we go to the Ministry. I don't know what you've been doing for food, but this way meals won't have to take you away from your work."

Eriol decided not to tell her that he and Syaoran had been stealing from the cafeteria.

"After you madame," he said gallantly, sweeping her an elegant bow.

"Why, thank you kind sir," she replied dryly, and the two of them left the cafe.

---------------------

Minerva sighed and checked herself, making sure that she wasn't carrying anything that would give her away. Her wand was tucked into the sleeves of her robes, and her hair was out of her face in its usual bun. She removed scratch pieces of paper and a few quills from her pocket. The ones that had writing on it she left in her drawer. Blank pieces of paper she kept with her in case she needed to write a message.

She bit her lip as she put the small yellow 'candy' in her breast pocket. Every spy and member of the Order carried one. It was a suicide pill that Severus had created, and if anyone was caught they would eat it to prevent Voldemort from learning of their plans. It would take only six seconds for death to arrive.

Severus assured them that the poison was painless, and there would be no trace of it left in the corpse, but Minerva prayed that she'd never have the chance to find out.

He had not been trusted enough to learn the ingredients in the fatal, painful poison Voldemort had developed.

Minerva paused as she felt the lump beneath the neck of her robes. "What?" she wondered, and drew out the necklace with the sakura blossom pendant. Her thumb traced the petals as she remembered the sweet Japanese girl that had taken care of her. She hoped that Sakura would be all right and remain free of Voldemort's long reaching arm. Little did she know that Sakura was in the very heart of his power.

A glimmer of suspicion tried to thread its way into her mind, but Syaoran's buffer was too well placed. Minerva's mind had become so accustomed to dismissing suspicions about Sakura that she did it automatically, even though the spell to prevent suspicion had dissolved.

Minerva regretfully removed the necklace and placed it on her desk. It seemed to call out to her, refusing to be left behind. "But that's ridiculous," Minerva murmured and quickly turned her back on the necklace. She couldn't take it with her. A cat with a necklace would stand out.

She shifted into a cat midstep. First stop, the American embassy.

---------------------

Sakura wrung out her clothes as soon as she reentered the school, and she soon had a miniature lake at her feet. Sodden, cold, and bedraggled, she squelched her way up the stairs.

A wordless roar emerged from behind her as she topped the stairs, and she immediately crouched down and peeked down at the Entrance Hall.

"When I catch the student that tracked mud in on my CLEAN FLOORS!!" bellowed the unkempt man with the cat.

Sakura cringed. "Uh oh," she whispered, suddenly realizing that she'd left a trail that led right to her. As he strode along the trail, muttering furiously to his cat, she quickly removed her shoes and sprinted in the direction of her room, her wet robe slapping at her heels. She soon outdistanced the man and arrived in her room with no one the wiser.

Sakura shivered with cold as she leaned against her door. "I need a fire," she muttered, rummaging through her pockets as she made her way to the small fireplace. "Aha." She pulled out Firey, and watched as a thin trickle of flame flowed from the card to the fireplace, immediately igniting the wood. The orange light illuminated the room, and Sakura relaxed as the fire popped and crackled. She slipped out of her wet clothes, and paused when she heard something 'clunk.' Sakura looked down just in time to see something go rolling under the couch, and thank God that it hadn't landed on her foot.

She quickly hung her clothes up on different pieces of furniture to dry before getting into the borrowed bathrobe, and putting another black robe over it. Then she got on her hands and knees and peered under the couch. Was that a rock?

Sakura stretched out a hand, and grasped a spherical, egg-sized crystal. An opal, she recognized. She prodded it a bit with her aura, and realized that not only did it naturally increase magickal energy, it was fully charged. I must be more out of it than I thought if I didn't notice Syaoran slip it into my pocket, she realized with a small smile.

She gathered her pajamas into a bundle with the opal tucked in the middle and headed off to the baths.

Sakura checked her power level. About 1/3 of her magic had recharged so far. Maybe she would finally become acclimated to this time zone.

---------------------

The teacher's meeting had dispersed, and members of the Order of the Phoenix had been contacted and put into position to thwart the plans to attack Madame O'Donnel's Private School for the Magically Gifted. The planned assassination attempt on the American ambassador and visiting Carrie Donald, American President of Magic, was being relayed to the two by Minerva in cat form. Only Albus knew she planned to spy on the Death Eater camp in Cornwall afterward.

"Remus," said Dumbledore as the werewolf was about to leave. "Could I speak with you?"

"Of course, Albus," replied Lupin, wondering what the Headmaster wanted.

The older wizard waited for him to become settled before gazing at him with his piercing blue eyes over half moon spectacles and asking, "Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

If that isn't a bit generic, Remus thought detachedly, and wondered how to put into words what was troubling him. Finally, growing more and more uncomfortable under Dumbledore's gaze, he decided to go for the direct approach.

"Why do you ask?"

All right, maybe that wasn't very direct, but the charged silence of the room was distinctly uncomfortable and not conducive to thinking.

"When I mentioned that professors should be wary of anything, you seemed to have something in mind," replied Albus easily.

Remus could swear that the man had more eyes than he knew what to do with. Then he just swore, albeit silently. Then he came to a decision.

"Albus, can you tell if someone's memory has been charmed?" he asked.

"If I'm allowed access to a person's thoughts," answered the Headmaster, being deliberately obtuse.

Remus paused. Did he really want someone - even Albus - rummaging through his mind? But wasn't the possible danger to the Wizarding World more important than his privacy? He glanced at Albus, but found it impossible to read his expression. With a heavy sigh, he said, "I suspect something happened last night that I can't remember. It's possible I'm imagining things, but I feel like I've forgotten something important. Also, when I looked at my clock it was 10:25, but I glanced only a few moments later, and it read 10:43."

"Was there anything different that you can remember?" asked Albus, furrowing his eyebrows. Remus hesitated, and he frowned. "I need to know as much as I can about this, Remus. I wouldn't ask if it weren't important."

"I know, Albus," he murmured. "There wasn't anything physical that had changed, but. . . I felt hopeful, and disappointed, as if. . . someone had made a promise, but I wouldn't see the results, or I wouldn't see them right away." He ran a hand through his hair, feeling almost embarassed. "I don't know if it makes any sense, but - "

Dumbledore held up a hand. "I don't pretend to understand how you feel, but I think I have an idea of what you're trying to say. I think I will know what you felt if you give me permission to search your mind for a Memory Charm."

Remus bowed his head. "Yes."

With that one word, Albus delved into his mind, and the younger man fell into a sort of trance, barely aware of another presence in his mind. Few people could sense an experienced Legilimens if he didn't want to be found.

Albus tried to ignore Remus' thoughts out of respect for his privacy, but it was difficult to do so. It took him little searching to find his memory of the previous night, partly because it was so recent, and partly because it was something Remus had been thinking of.

It took him a little more time to find the point Remus had mentioned, between the two glances of the clock that spanned both several seconds and twenty minutes.

Albus concentrated, and managed to find the little skip where in a single instant, Remus had gone from looking in the mirror to looking at the bed, without moving his body.

What he found - or rather, what he didn't find - stunned him. There was nothing. It was as if the world between 10:20 and 10:43 had simply ceased to exist. There wasn't the usual seal of a Memory Charm.

There wasn't anything.

Albus stopped, baffled, and then decided to take a chance, and pried at the skip in time, forcing it to show him. It was like beating against a brick wall, but he gritted his teeth, and pried. . .

Show me. Show me.

There was something familiar, a sparkle of pink, and then intense pain shot through him/Remus, and he suddenly found himself in his own body, sweating.

Remus was clutching his head, and panting. It had felt as if his head were being split apart. "What did you do?" he asked hoarsely, hardly aware of what he was saying, the memory of the pain prominent in his mind. "What did you find?"

"I am sorry, Remus," Albus said, reaching across to touch the other man's hand. "I had no idea that would happen."

Remus Lupin remained silent, waiting. There was something wrong. He knew it.

"Your memory has been sealed away, but not by any spell I know of. It did not feel malevolent, but I urge you to be careful. There was something familiar about the charm. And there was a spark of pink energy before the pain." Albus sighed and stood, turning to leave. "Do you remember anything at all, whether it seems insignificant or not?"

"No." The word was harsh, and Albus flinched, but said nothing. He had misused Remus' trust, no matter that it was unwitting.

"I am sorry, Remus," Albus murmured, and left.

"It smelled like the girl from this evening," Remus whispered to the empty room. If he expected something, he was disappointed. The portraits continued to sleep, and the embers of the fire radiated little heat and left the room in shadow.

He stood and returned to his rooms.

---------------------

"And this," said Eriol with a grand sweep of his arm, is our bedroom."

"It's an office," Tomoyo deadpanned, looking around at the mess of papers and folders."

"Actually it's an off-shoot of the Room of Records. Probably where workers or whoever go to review the files or something. It's not much, and it's damn near uncomfortable. There aren't any bedrooms in this building, and the couches are quite lumpy and just plain dirty."

Tomoyo snickered. "Spoken like a true, pompous aristocrat."

"I beg to differ," Eriol sniffed. "I just have high standards. Anyway, most employees leave around 8:00, so we can move about more freely in the night."

"Good," said Tomoyo decisively. "I'll keep more or less the same hours as at home."

"You're an insomniac?" he asked before remembering that she was from a different time zone. "Never mind."

"Where are you going to get the things on Sakura's list?" Tomoyo asked curiously.

"I thought I'd go to Chinatown tomorrow. It's the easiest place to get what she needs, outside of the Magic District. Would you like to come with me?" he offered.

"If you don't need me here, I'd love to go," Tomoyo replied happily.

"Have you ever been to a Magic District?" Eriol asked curiously, settling down on the floor, and shifting various papers to the side.

"Once," Tomoyo replied, neatly stacking the papers in her way into a pile before settling herself on one of Eriol's spare air mattresses he and Syaoran had been sleeping on. Syaoran had borrowed the other one since he had been planning on camping out before officially infiltrating the Death Eater camp. "I went with Sakura and Syaoran to the one in China."

"The oldest and most famous, created by the sorcerer Chang T'sao," Eriol commented, fiddling with a small, milky, spherical stone on a gold chain he had taken from his pocket.

"That's why we didn't go to the Magic District in Japan," Tomoyo said. "Syaoran decided to take Sakura and myself there for our first time, and he needed some more supplies for his mage kit. It was wonderful. . ."

"But?" Eriol asked, hearing something in her voice.

"Well, I decided to go off by myself, and agreed to meet the two of them where we'd first come in. There were some pretty crystals I wanted to buy. The store owner talked to me while ringing the things up. I paid in cash since I couldn't perform any sort of magical service, and she asked who I came with. I guess she could tell I wasn't a spellcaster. So I told her I'd come with Sakura-chan and Syaoran-kun.

"She got really still, and I was wondering whether something was wrong when she asked what their last names were."

Eriol grinned, as if he knew where this was going.

"I said, 'Their names are Kinomoto Sakura and Li Syaoran, and I'm Daidouji Tomoyo. Pleased to meet you.'

"The whole shop was silent, and I wondered what was wrong. Then they all started kowtowing at me and the shopkeeper refused to let me pay despite the fact that I had plenty of money, because I was a close friend of the Card Mistress and the future head of the Li clan."

Tomoyo could feel herself blushing at the memory.

"It was so uncomfortable. I've never experienced anything like it. She wouldn't let me free until she'd piled my arms high with many gifts for the three of us. Sakura told me that she and Syaoran had gotten a similar reception. She'd introduced herself before Syaoran could warn her. He said they probably would have recognized them eventually anyway."

Eriol could no longer contain his laughter and convulsed in a paroxysm of nearly silent mirth, trying to keep any workers in the building from hearing him.

Tomoyo sighed, and waited for him to calm himself.

"Would you like to go to the Magic District as well?" Eriol asked finally. "You sounded as if you liked it, apart from the kowtowing and free gifts." He chuckled before he could help himself, and then quickly pulled himself back together. "The one in England is much newer and smaller than the ones in east Asia, but it's easier to find more of the items than in even an occult shop."

"I'd love to," Tomoyo said, clasping her hands together. She remembered all of the different types of fabric and different characteristics woven into the cloth and laughed to herself, hoping that there was one like that here. "Oh ho ho ho. I can make true wizard robes for my Sakura-chan."

Eriol grinned. "Oh, before I forget, I want you to wear this." He gave her the amulet he'd been toying with.

"What does it do?" Tomoyo asked as she fastened it around her neck.

"It's like a substitute for magic, I suppose," Eriol struggled to explain. "I put some of my power into that stone, and it will enable you to perform spells. I won't always be around to make you invisible when you need to be. I figured this was the best solution. For the small scale spells you'll need, all you have to do is will it to happen."

Throughout Eriol's explanation Tomoyo's eyes had been growing larger and larger until she could contain herself no longer. She tackled him and squeezed him around the middle. "Domo arigatou gozaimashita," she said fervently.

"You're quite welcome," Eriol said with an amused grin, "but I would like to remind you that I already have a girlfriend."

"Gomen," she apologized, sitting up. "Is this permanent?"

Eriol shook his head. "When we're done here, I need to reclaim my magic or I'll stay at 2/3 my power. And we can't just give magic to anyone either. You're one of the few lucky ones who get to experience magic they weren't born into."

"I'll never forget this," Tomoyo said fervently. Noticing his rather alarmed look she added, "And I won't forget that you're engaged either."

She giggled at his look of relief.

"Where's Keroberos?" Eriol asked suddenly, looking around to see if he could spot the small creature.

"He left to go see Sakura as soon as we got out of the sewers," said Tomoyo. "Something about checking up on her."

-------------------------

"Poppy, that's just cruel," Albus informed her. He'd arrived in his office to find the medi-witch already waiting for him with three potions lined up on his desk. He'd assumed she'd forgotten. "Giving me the false hope that I wouldn't be doing this, and then crushing my hopes under your heel and smearing them into the carpet."

"Really Albus, stop being so melodramatic. You're beginning to sound like a child. You need these, and I decided to save your dignity by doing this in private. You're too pale, and don't think I didn't notice you nodding off during Binns' lecture when you're usually able to at least keep your eyes open," Poppy told him. "Now drink up."

Dumbledore wondered how in the world he was going to get out of this one.

"I thank you for going above and beyond the call for medi-witchcraft, and I assure you that I will take these immediately after I finish this report. As there's no need for you to wait so long, and I'm sure you have patients that need tending to - "

"Either you drink those, or I'm forcing you back to the Infirmary," Madam Pomfrey interupted sternly.

He made a face, and quickly swallowed the potions.

Poppy left with a smile on her face. Minerva was right, she thought, suppressing a chuckle. Ordering about our infallible Headmaster is extremely satisfying.

-----------------------

Syaoran stared unblinking into the small campfire, mesmerized by the ever-changing flames. He'd always been fascinated by the element and its 'double-edged blade' that could both kill and heal, burn and warm. He supposed the double nature was true of all of the elements, but fire was the most fierce.

Wood crackled and flames flared up before once more shrinking down. Fire never stopped moving. It was capricious and loyal only to a certain extent.

Fire was at the heart of every human, at the very heart of the army of Light, and if that flame ever died then there was no belief or faith behind the movement. When that flame of hope stilled, there was no winning.

If he and Sakura and Eriol and Tomoyo and the guardians, even, could not become that flame in the hearts of Albus Dumbledore's army (for it was really under him that most wizards and witches rallied under) then Voldemort would win and the conflict would leak into the Muggle world until they were drowning in chaos as well. Sorcerers were the more powerful, yes, but they also had the least numbers, and if this dark tide truly got going before they could defeat this Dark Wizard, then the sorcerers and spellcasters and Muggles would have a full scale crisis on their hands.

They were tiptoeing around this war, unsure of how and when to act, and what the consequences would be. They knew next to nothing about wizard-kind, and without knowledge they were at a disadvantage.

Wavering images appeared in the fire, a multitude of men and women dressed in black clashing with men and women in white until the colors mixed together and blurred to become blood red . . .

Syaoran blinked, and shook his head. The fire was simply fire. There was no blood.

He grinned wryly at how abstract his thoughts had become. And morbid, he added.

A twig snapped somewhere in the woods to his left, and he immediately began cursing himself as he rolled behind a large tree, the darkness suddenly pitch black after staring into the fire.

Syaoran blinked rapidly as he berated himself for being a fool. He'd been trained for this since he was three, for the love of God, and the first time it needed to be put to actual use it had failed. One of the basic rules when camping on guard in the dark was to avoid looking in the flame. Otherwise you wouldn't be able to see anything hiding in the night.

He could barely make out the figure of a man about his size walking directly toward his campfire. His legs tensed, preparing to leap as it came closer and closer. Almost . . .

Syaoran leaped and tackled the person, both of them landing heavily on the ground.

"Hiiragizawa?!" exclaimed Syaoran in surprise.

Eriol grunted and wheezed, his breath having been knocked out of him.

It was rather satisfying for Syaoran to have the upper hand. He lingered on Eriol's stomach for a bit longer than was strictly necessary before standing, 'accidentally' digging his knee into Eriol's gut. After several moments of hesitation he extended a hand to help Eriol up.

He stood rather painfully, and leaned heavily on Syaoran as they made their way closer to the campfire.

"Isn't it a bit late to be paying house calls?" Syaoran asked dryly, checking his watch. Only 3:15? I could have sworn I'd been awake for longer than 10 minutes.

"You couldn't sleep either?" Eriol asked after catching his breath.

Syaoran looked at him sharply. "I woke up around 3:00," was all he said.

Eriol stared at his hands and sighed. "I've been having nightmares," he said in a rare moment of vulnerability. "I'm back there again, feeling flesh tear beneath my talons, and blood stick to my feathers. Their screams up close . . . When I woke up I was covered in tiny black feathers. I didn't want to bother Tomoyo, so I came here."

Syaoran didn't say anything, remembering the night before when he had woken clawing at his blankets to exchange looks with Eriol, who was already awake. It was lucky that neither of them were given to yelling in their sleep.

"I . . ." He stopped abruptly and changed what he had been about to say. "I hope to God that Sakura doesn't have similar nightmares by the time we're through with this." He paused, and added, "Shouldn't Tomoyo be up now, though? She hasn't had time to adjust to this time zone."

"I think she was just tired from her flight. I expect she'll be up soon, skimming through what we've found so far."

Syaoran curled up in his sleeping bag, leaving Eriol to stare into the fire. No more words were needed, and Syaoran eventually slipped into a more peaceful sleep.

When he woke the next morning the fire was down to burning embers, and Eriol was long gone.

--------------------

"King to E5."

He found himself staring at a chessboard. There was a tinkle of shattering glass, and his queen was destroyed. Only two pieces remained on the board, facing each other.

For the first time Albus Dumbledore looked up to see his opponent. The person was dressed in flowing gray robes, the hood pushed up to hide his or her - or its? - face. Was it a Death Eater? Voldemort himself? He would've thought they would dress in black though. If it was an ally, would he not be dressed in some brighter color? And why would he battle an ally, or why would he hide his face in the first place?

"Who are you?" he asked.

The robed figure remained silent for so long, Albus thought he would receive no answer. Then a woman's voice, low and emotionless, emerged from beneath the hood.

"Your move."

Dumbledore returned his gaze to the game. He didn't know why he hesitated. Her king was directly in front of his. All barriers were gone, it was king versus king, and it was his turn. A sure win.

He opened his mouth to speak. "King. . .?" His voice died off when his opponent's king took on his own face, which quickly morphed into Minerva's, Harry's, the young Mr. Weasley's and then his sister, Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy. Faces of witches and wizards both known and unknown to him paraded across the other king's face.

Forfeit, Dumbledore realized. I have to forfeit. Lose or lose. There was no way he could win. To his horror, unable to stop himself, he found himself saying, "King to E5."

The game board warped into a spiraling blackness. Something exploded and he clapped his hands to his ears. He'd won, and in winning had lost. Movement caught his attention, and he looked up in time to see his opponent remove her hood.

A girl, he saw in surprise. Only a girl.

Her short brown hair floated in a breeze, and emerald eyes studied him sadly. Another chessboard rose up between them, and a game commenced unlike any he'd seen before as three armies took up position, one white, one silver, and one gold. The more aggressive pieces met in the center, while those refusing to participate hovered on the outside. A hump appeared in the middle, and the pieces slowly disappeared, as the chessboard became the Earth. Lights flashed and clashed all over the world.

"It was our choice in the end," the girl said. He jumped, having forgotten she was there. "And we can change it if we're strong enough, fast enough, between the last choosing and the beginning of this new game. But if you want the first game to end, you will have to make the same risk."

"I don't understand," said Albus, and then he woke up.

The girl's features had already slipped his mind as he wrote down his dream. As he closed his eyes, Albus realized that there was no putting it off. He'd have to see his great-great-great grandmother's people in the morning.

------------------------------

Harry wiped the sweat off his face with a towel as he paced back and forth in front of the Great Hall, waiting for his friends to catch up. Today's conditioning class had been particularly strenuous, having to run around the castle 10 times in under an hour, and however tall the castle appeared, it was no less wide. He had been one of the first ones done, and waved limply to his panting schoolmates as they passed him into the school. Ron and Malfoy were among the last ones done.

"That's it," Draco wheezed as he collapsed to the ground. "I'm registering a complaint to the school board. Getting up at an ungodly hour to do this is cruel and unusual punishment, and I will not stand for it." His haughty tone of voice was ruined by the fact that his words came out in between great gasps.

"That's what you say every time," Ginny commented, unimpressed.

"Stand up," Hermione ordered, "and walk around, or the acid will build up."

"Thank you for enlightening me, Granger," he snapped, getting to his feet and brushing himself off. "I would never have known otherwise."

Hermione shrugged his bad attitude off, and turned her back on him, dumping the contents of her water bottle over her head. Ron and Harry glared at the blond.

"At least you're in the best shape of your life," Ginny pointed out. "That was the whole point of adding this class at the beginning of the year. If you need to run, you can't falter. If you need to cast one more spell, you'll have the energy to see it through."

"Yes Professor," said Malfoy snidely.

Ginny dumped her water bottle over his head and stalked into the school, ignoring his yelp of shock and wailings about his hair.

By the time Malfoy was through showering and had entered the Great Hall, the other four were already there, crowded around the day's issue of the Daily Prophet. He honestly had no idea why they insisted on reading that wet rag. Weasley was the only one to glance up when he passed. The male one, he meant.

"Anything interesting?" he drawled in an I-couldn't-care-less voice.

To his surprise, Neville was the one to answer. The boy usually ended up dropping or knocking over anything near him when Draco was around.

"There was an attempt on the American President's life, as well as the American ambassador." Neville's face twisted into an uncharacteristic sneer, which really wasn't much as far as sneers went, and was far from intimidating on Longbottom's face. It did serve to get the message across when he said, "Our Minister added another couple of Aurors to his personal bodyguard, which means less Aurors for fieldwork. Even with the groups from America, Japan, China, Russia, and the rest of Europe, we don't have any Aurors to waste."

"Voldemort," collective shudder, pause, glare (it was rather like clockwork), "wouldn't dare attack Fudge," Harry said dryly. "We might actually replace him with someone competent."

Everyone had quickly learned to detest the bumbling Fudge, and how he was constantly interfering with the plans to battle the Dark Lord. There wasn't any time to replace Fudge either, so they got on as best as they could, and hoped none of the other countries' leaders and ambassadors would be irrevocably insulted.

Malfoy paused for a bit longer, his brain whirring through all of the possibilities this attack could mean. President Donald was pretty good as leaders went. Hermione often commented that more women needed to govern. He doubted the attempt on Carrie Donald's life would have her withdrawing the Aurors. It was a scare tactic. Like a dog marking its territory, You-Know-Who was showing her that not even the leader of one of the most powerful countries in the world was safe here. Draco snickered at the thought of Voldemort marking a tree.

"What?" demanded Harry.

"Nothing," he replied smoothly, and was heading over to the Slytherin table when Hermione tugged at his robes, bringing him up short. "Yes?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Does McGonagall seem different to you?" she asked in a low voice.

Draco looked at the teacher's table. She looked like she always did to him. "I wouldn't know," he replied matter-of-factly. He rarely paid attention to professors, aside from their lectures. He had no idea what was normal and what wasn't. "See you in Care of Magical Creatures."

Hermione let him go, and chewed on her thumbnail, brow furrowed in thought. As Draco settled himself in between Crabbe and Goyle, pretending not to notice the murderous looks several members of his House were sending him - he could take care of himself - he saw Granger shoot surreptitious looks at the Teacher's table all during breakfast. He wondered if he should be concerned. Hermione was generally right, after all. Then he decided not to worry.

After all, Dumbledore wouldn't let an agent of You-Know-Who into the school would he.

Dumbledore stood to announce that Flying Lessons were cancelled due to Madam Hooch having become ill, and added that reminders were posted in all House Commons.

Then again, remembered Draco, there had been that little matter of You-Know-Who being stuck to the back of Quirrell's head in First Year, and the Chamber of Secrets in Second Year, and the insane mass murderer Black in Third Year before anyone knew he wasn't a mass murderer, though the insane part was still in question, and the. . .

-----------------------------

Sakura didn't awaken until two in the afternoon. A quick check told her that her magic was back to normal, and the opal drained of stored energy. She ransacked her food bag, and cleaned it out, delicately licking her fingers clean of any crumbs. Then she argued with herself about whether to stick with her plan or not.

But after seeing how the school fought and functioned, she knew it had to be done. She also knew that her inner clock would be severely screwed.

And after all, she figured, how much can I miss in just one day?

Sakura had to make a wand for herself. And it couldn't be a normal one that she sometimes used to help cast spells. It had to be a wizard wand, but she had to make it herself, since normal ones refused to work for her. There were many downsides to this, but she couldn't think of another way to do it.

Witches and wizards had only to pronounce the words of the spell and move the wand correctly. The wand would amplify the power. They still couldn't discern where the power came from, since they apparently had a small natural store of magickal energy.

Sakura's wizarding wand, however, could only cast the spell if she understood the structure of the spell. This meant that she had to study other witches and wizards perform the spell, perhaps multiple times, before she herself could do it. Happily, she could forget the structure, but the wand would remember after only one casting.

Before she could forget, Sakura ran to get a bowl of water, and returned in record time. Then she rummaged through her backpack for her mage kit, and stirred sea salt into the water. She placed the opal into the mixture to cleanse it before its next use.

After that was done, she felt along the sides of the bag, feeling for the slightly softer piece of fabric that marked where she kept the more rare and dangerous tools. Rubbing it between her fingers, she murmured an incantation under her breath. The cloth disappeared, and she reached into an alternate space for her small ritual dagger.

Sakura wrinkled her nose and held her breath, hating this part. She slid the knife across her palm, and clenched her hand into a fist, thumb pointing upward. The larger magicks required blood to power the spell. To keep the power from corrupting, the gods had made it so that only the caster's own blood would work. An animal or human sacrifice would not work, and might very well kill the spellcaster.

The law of gravity warped, and blood dripped both towards the ground and towards the ceiling, stopping a few inches away from her hand. The red liquid seemed to become clearer and harder. The color dulled to mahogany, and suddenly a wand was clenched in Sakura's hand. She checked her palm and found a puckered scar. The dagger was clean and free of blood.

"I hope this works," Sakura said faintly, and promptly passed out.

--------------------------------

As soon as the morning classes were under way, Albus sent a note to Severus, informing him that he would be gone until the afternoon, and, yes, this was a necessary trip and one he couldn't put off any longer. He didn't tell the Potions Master where he was going or why, and Albus hoped in vain that he wouldn't take it out on his classes. Severus would probably curse Albus for leaving when his Deputy was gone as well, and leaving him in charge if there was an emergency.

That done, he became invisible and used an illegal portkey to reach the western Scottish coast. With a graceful twirl of his cloak he disappeared and reappeared in a dense green forest clearing. A large hill stood before him, and as he began walking the light became steadily brighter, and the colors seemed to warp and twist. A large group of tall people appeared in the distance, standing behind a silver throne.

Albus drew near, and knelt before the Tuatha de Danaan.

"Rise Albus Dumbledore," said the queen, and he stood, watching her face, but not daring to meet her eyes. "If you have come to ask our assistance in your war, we refuse. You should know that we do not often concern ourselves with the affairs of the mortal realm."

"What about the Seelie Court?" he asked, guessing the answer before she spoke.

"They will not help you anymore than they have. It is the choice of individual species whether to assist you or not. They don't dare provoke the Unseelie Court as long as they do not officially side with Tom Riddle. There is something else that troubles you. Speak."

So he told her of his dream, and waited while she pondered on the meaning.

"Did your own king change identities?" she asked at last.

"I believe so, although I only saw the back of my piece," he replied.

The Queen of the Faerie was silent once more, and her eyes flickered to something behind Albus. He half-turned, but saw nothing.

"I don't believe that the focus of the dream pertained to this war, as you've guessed. It is something that will be decided at some point after the defeat of Riddle. I do not know what the choice is about, nor what will follow."

"Do you know who the girl is?" Dumbledore pressed.

"I cannot say."

He was about to comment that this was not the same as not knowing, but was sidetracked by what the Fae did next. At some unnoticed signal, the crowd behind the throne parted to let two Fae forward, both carrying long. . . things wrapped in beautiful, unearthly fabrics.

"Your thrice great grandmother was among my closest retainers before she chose mortality, as you know."

Albus nodded. He had inherited an unusually long life and stronger powers from her. He was too far removed to be endowed with anything else, and truth to tell, he was happy with what he had.

"So I will gift you with two objects that have been missing from mortal realms for centuries. They are not meant to be used for the war, but I gather you will have need of them in the future." She nodded, and the objects were unwrapped. The woman held a large, dark recurved bow, with the string coiled around the wood. The man carried a long glaive, one and a half times tall as Dumbledore.

For a moment he simply stared, unable to believe what was before his eyes. They had thought these weapons lost forever, and the Tuatha de Danaan had possessed them this whole time.

"I believe," she said, a hint of amusement evident in her voice, "that the sword and the dagger both reside in the Sorting Hat?"

"Gryffindor's sword was pulled from the hat five years ago," Albus corrected. "Hufflepuff's dagger is still there."

The queen lifted her arm, fingers outstretched, at the weapons. They disappeared in a ball of light, and he gave her a curious, half-fearful look.

"Don't worry," she said calmly. "I simply sent them to your office. Fawkes, I believe, is watching over them. You may go."

He bowed at this clear dismissal, and turned to leave. He was brought up short by the sight of a young man with blue-black hair and eyes to match behind round spectacles. He was dressed in strange blue robes and a hat, leaning on a golden staff and regarding him with an unreadable enigmatic smile. "Good day, Albus Dumbledore," he greeted in a cultured, aristocratic tone.

"Good day," Dumbledore responded amiably, wondering how this boy was affiliated with the Tuatha de Danaan. He knew better than to linger behind, though, and strode off slowly.

"I came as soon as the sylph arrived, Your Majesty," he overheard.

"Then the debt is repaid, Eriol Hiiragizawa?"

The reply was rather sour and the slightest bit peevish. "You could have told us about his kind long before now."

Dumbledore paused and straightened. 'His kind?' He only managed to hear the queen laugh and say, "Even for your kind, we do not interfere when unnecessary." Then the world became a swirl of color and he was forced to close his eyes or suffer a migraine. He opened them to an abandoned hilltop, and indulged himself just once, to kick at a rock in frustration, before composing himself and returning to Scotland with a swirl of his cloak.

-----------------------

"I apologize for leaving so suddenly," Eriol said as he returned to Tomoyo's side in the north end of the Magic District. He did a double-take at the bolts of fabric she carried.

"That's all right. We are in the middle of an emergency," Tomoyo replied agreeably. "You should have warned me of the commotion being associated with you would cause. Although in hindsight the half-reincarnation of Clow Reed would be rather well-known. That disguise combined with the lack of your presence threw them off."

"Allow me to help you," Eriol offered hesitantly. "I've had my break and am ready to face the world once more." He paused, and then added, "As long as the world is not uphill."

"It is," Tomoyo confirmed dryly nodding in the direction of the square that was used specifically for teleporting.

"Curses," Eriol muttered. He was rather thankful and the slightest bit offended that she let him carry only three bolts of fabric.

"You should start conditioning with Syaoran," she commented with an innocent, 'o ho ho ho.'

"That'd be the death of me," he said, highly offended.

"Where were you, anyway?"

"The Queen of the Tuatha de Danaan summoned me with a sylph of air. You probably know the Tuatha de Danaan as the Fae or elves," he added at her confused expression.

Tomoyo looked delighted. "Sakura never mentioned them."

"They only live in the land of the Celts," he responded. "And they like to keep to themselves." He frowned peevishly. "They didn't even tell me of the existence of wizards and witches. Anyway, she had a visitor of some interest that she thought I would like to see. But it wasn't very informative, except for the fact that Albus Dumbledore is distantly related to the Fae, and he has prophetic dreams."

"That's something, I suppose," Tomoyo commented serenely.

He listened politely as Tomoyo spent the rest of the walk talking about the different characteristics of each fabric (i.e. protection, warmth, invisibility, etc.), and how she would design each robe.

-----------------------

Upon returning to Hogwarts, Albus sent Severus a note, letting him know that he was back and requesting his presence at his earliest convenience. Then he settled in his chair, and stared at Slytherin's glaive and Ravenclaw's bow, wondering what on earth he was going to do with them. He grinned suddenly, looking forward to seeing Severus, despite the fact that he was probably still a bit put out.

He checked the clock. Time between the two worlds was slightly out of sync. Severus' planning period began in fifteen minutes, and dinner was after that. They should have plenty of time to figure out what to do.

Not for the first time he wished Minerva were still here, but he didn't dare call her back now, and they needed what information they could get.

Severus Snape entered the room some time later in a righteous fury at Albus' irresponsibility and abandoning of the school, and stopped short at the sight of his innocent smile, which was more reminiscent of a cat that caught the canary. He sat down warily at the Headmaster's invitation, tension visible despite his voluminous robes. "What are you up to?" he asked suspiciously. In his opinion he had every right to be suspicious. Albus loved to catch everyone off guard in general, and Severus in particular.

"Severus, why must you think I am 'up to something?'"

His lip curled. "Because you usually are. And you also left the castle with no explanation. And no, 'I must visit my great-great grandmother's people' is not a sufficient excuse."

"Great-great-great grandmother, actually," Albus corrected. "If you really must know, I have recovered Slytherin's glaive and Ravenclaw's bow. Sherbert lemon?" He passed the tin to Severus.

He tried to pass the tin of Muggle candy back. "No, Albus, do I ever - " His mind processed what had been said, and yellow candies hit the floor in a clatter.

"Really, Severus," Dumbledore frowned. "You needn't waste my candy."

"You. . . Merlin's beard, Albus. You found the glaive and bow?!"

The Headmaster was enjoying this immensely. "Yes. My three times great grandmother's employer had them."

"Your. . ." He trailed off. "Who?" he asked weakly.

"Well, I really shouldn't be saying this, but I trust you will not be spreading this information around. My great-great-great grandmother Eriu was a retainer of the Queen of the Tuatha de Danaan. I occasionally pay my respects to her. She said we shouldn't use these in the war though."

"Where are they?" the Potions Master asked faintly.

"Over there." He nodded over to where Fawkes was perched on the glaive, cocking his head at the blade as if admiring his reflection. "I was wondering where you thought we should hide them."

Severus considered for a moment before suggesting the most concealed place he could think of. "The Chamber of Secrets."

Albus' eyes lit up. "Oh, wonderful idea. Should we move Gryffindor's sword as well?"

Severus shrugged. "It can't hurt. No one pays much attention to it, so no one will miss it."

"You look over your shock," Dumbledore commented.

Merlin curse the man, he actually sounded disappointed.

-----------------------

It was ridiculously easy to spy on Death Eaters, Syaoran reflected. Especially if they all insisted on wearing bulky black robes and masks. No one knew everyone, except for perhaps the Dark Lord whatsitsname. Vole-something or other. All he had to do was cringe, follow orders, and curse a bit about what a waste of space Muggles, Mudbloods, and all things prone to prejudice were.

He'd used the day to get his bearings, and explore the camp, but he could find only tents housing the large numbers of Death Eaters. He hadn't been able to find any prisoners.

By the time darkness had fallen, Syaoran had figured out where the higher-ranking officials slept in a group of tents. He hadn't yet dared go through anything inside until he had time to manipulate the layers of protective spells.

A sharp crack startled him, and three figures in robes and masks appeared in the clearing floating a family of five bound and gagged, eyes glazed with panic and pain and disbelief. It's a nightmare, their eyes cried out. Please let this not be real. Everyone in the camp immediately crowded around the group, clamoring to be the first. They did not say what they wanted to be the first for, but Syaoran could easily guess, and was thankful that his newly acquired mask hid his sickened expression.

"We found these Muggles nosing around the mountain, and thought a bit of entertainment wouldn't go amiss," said the tall man cruelly. "I've softened them up a bit. Who's next?"

A roar of voices shouted eagerly for the privilege, and Syaoran's brain worked furiously as the mother and two daughters were doled out among the men, clothes being ripped apart. The father and son roared, but the wizard backhanded them, and easily broke the son's fingers when he screamed out curses. Clothes were quickly being torn, and Syaoran decided that there was no help for it. Without moving a muscle, he teleported the family to Hogwarts castle.

There was a shocked silence, and then cries for the blood of the traitor who had taken away their entertainment.

"Quiet you imbeciles!" the man - obviously the leader - hissed. "Apparition Priori Incantatem."

Nothing happened, or at least nothing that Syaoran could see.

"Uh. . . Nothing happened, Sumner" muttered one of the original three.

"I know that, fool!" he snapped. "Bring out our oldest prisoner. Let's see if our bleeding heart dares to risk himself again."

Syaoran clenched his fists and forced himself to count to 10. Then 20. Then 30.

A feral shriek caught his attention and he sucked in his breath when he caught sight of what two burly wizards brought between them, seemingly out of a tree trunk. The man was tortured, and mad with pain. His clothes hung on his gaunt body in tatters, streaked with blood and dirt and vomit. He was no more than skin and bone, and Syaoran could easily count his ribs. He clawed at the wizards who held him with crooked, broken fingers.

Syaoran itched to free the man, but his practical side screamed that it was too late, and best to preserve his cover. Who knew what tactics the Death Eaters would use to smoke him out?

He almost retched as they applied red-hot metal to skin, the acrid smell lingering in his nostrils, and he knew without a doubt that he would never be able to save the man. But, he realized, he could put him out of his pain.

God of Death, save this man, and gather his soul to your warm embrace.

The prisoner went limp, eyes staring blankly at the night sky. The men cursed their bad luck and brought out another of their victims. The next one was young boy, not nearly so far gone as the one who came before.

They were trying to draw him out, Syaoran knew, and his hands clenched into fists. He trembled with anger, but the crowd around him was so filled with blood-lust that they did not notice. This one he would save once he saw what they had in mind, screw the consequences.

The Death Eaters bound the boy to a cross, in a grim parody of the Christian Jesus, and then stood back. Were they going to burn him? Syaoran wondered. That would give him plenty of time to rescue the boy.

The leader - Sumner - waved his wand and murmured under his breath. A horizontal cut appeared on the boy's shirt. Then he realized that it went deeper than than that and he stumbled away, barely having the presence of mind to spell them to keep from noticing as the boy's guts tumbled to the ground, the intestine still attached to a place inside his stomach.

He leaned against a tree and vomited, the boy's screams ringing in his ears, and accusation. He clutched his head and moaned as he heaved again and again and again. Tears ran down his face, but he paid them no heed, I could have saved him, echoing inside his mind.

Syaoran wasn't ready for this. His training hadn't included the kind of evil that fed on blood and pain and torture. He'd had his doubts before, but no longer. He would see this whole thing through to the end if it killed him.

-------------------

When Sakura woke for the second time that day it was after dinner and the shadows were lengthening outside. She spent a moment putting away her ceremonial dagger, and then leaned with her back against the wall, studying her wand. It was dark and smooth, the color of dried blood. She gave a few experimental waves, and then attempted one of the spells she'd remembered seeing another student practice.

"Wingardium leviosa."

Nothing happened. Sakura sighed, not really surprised, and stood, stretching and blinking the grittiness from her eyes. Her stomach growled and she was searching for food before remembering that she'd eaten it all.

"Another trip to the Kitchen," she muttered, wincing at the last visit. It was uncomfortable ordering creatures around that acted as if they existed solely for obeying orders. Last time she'd asked for a meal and gotten a feast. Maybe this time she'd ask for a snack and get dinner.

The Kitchen was once more a flurry of activity. She was accosted by house-elves at every turn and when asked for a snack was given steak, pasta salad, fruit, and a glass of pumpkin juice, which she avoided. Throughout her dinner she was asked time and time again her opinion on several dishes. She barely managed to escape the liver and onion dish.

On her return to her room she was attacked by a small yellow creature and barely managed to stifle her shriek when she realized that it was Kero.

"Kero-chan!" she whispered in delight, and hugged him until he turned blue.

"Hey, kiddo. How ya doin'?" he asked gruffly.

"Fine. Lately, every time I gain back my magic I use it again, but that shouldn't happen much anymore. Would you do me a favor and act as the messenger between me, Eriol, and Syaoran?"

"What!"

"Shhh," Sakura hissed, looking around to make sure no one was near.

"You expect me to be a messenger?" he asked indignantly. "I am Keroberos, Sun Guardian of the Seal!"

"But Kero-chan," she said slyly. "This is something only you can do."

That made him pause.

"Just think of all the sweets you'll get flying from person to person. And, Spinel is stuck reading books about wizards."

"But he likes that kind of thing," Kero said weakly. Sakura just waited, giving him her most innocent smile. "All right," he broke down. "I'll do it."

"Arigatou, Kero-chan. I'll go back down to the Kitchens for pudding, and then we can head back to my room."

Kero cheered up considerably at this prospect.

Nearly 20 minutes later she had summoned parchment, ink, and quill, and sat at a desk in the corner of her room. Kero was happily spooning up his fourth helping of pudding. Sakura growled in frustration as the ink blotted yet again. Apparently there was an art to writing with a quill.

Finally satisfied, she signed her name and frowned at her messy scrawl. The ink was thick in some places and nearly nonexistent in others. Some of the more complicated kanji had represented nothing more than a blob. She'd had to redo those again, sometimes three times before getting it right.

Both letters - one to Syaoran, the other to Eriol - contained everything she'd learned about wizards from Lupin. She especially stressed the spell that no sorcerer could block or break, and how no one knew what exactly it did. Remus had also said something about the spell being used in other stories without sorcerers to get wizards out of tight situations in myths. Then she told Eriol to have Spinel come stay at Hogwarts. The library was huge, and everything pertained to witches and wizards. He could get a lot more work done there.

Finally satisfied, she told Kero he could stay until morning if he wanted.

"Where are you going?" he asked sleepily after she showed him where the letters were.

"Outside. I think I'm going to go flying. Maybe I'll find the nearest pay phone and call Otousan. I've been feeling a little home sick lately."

"Okay. Be careful," he murmured.

"Hai. Ja ne, Kero-chan."

-----------------------------------------

"Where's Katie gone off to?" asked Marge of the occupants of the safe house for people targeted by Voldemort. "She hasn't gone outside, has she? The wards won't protect her outside the house."

"I'm sure she's fine," Kevin, her husband, reassured her. "Probably playing hide and seek with the kids.

Daniel didn't look reassured, and glanced at the Floo powder by the fireplace. He did a double-take. "What happened to the Floo powder?" he asked.

The three adults looked at each other. Something wasn't right here. Something was very very wrong.

There was a knock at the door, and Marge smiled in relief. "That must be Katie. We'll ask her."

She opened the door, and all hell broke loose.

Death Eaters streamed into the house, killing the four downstairs immediately. Sarah, nearly 9 months pregnant and about to head downstairs rushed back up and grabbed the first child she could find, who happened to be Rhiannon.

"Get in the secret closet. You know the password. Don't come out until I tell you, understand?" she hissed, panic clear in her every stilted movement.

Rhiannon nodded, too stunned to cry and rushed off. Sarah ran to the bedroom to find the other children and nearly ran into Katie. "Death Eaters," she informed her quickly. "Help me find the other children."

Katie just stood there, and Sarah grabbed her arm, confused. "Hurry!"

"Too late," said Katie with a smile. Raising her voice, she shouted, "Over here!"

Sarah stared in shock. What. . . ?

The first Death Eater carried a sword, and Sarah quickly pulled her wand and stunned him, before something slammed into her back. She shrieked and another Death Eater yelled, "Crucio."

Sarah's body spasmed, and she screamed in pain. Tears streamed down her face, and she could only murmur, "Not my baby, not my baby," over and over again. The pain stopped and she glared cold hatred at Katie before a new pain began. They ripped her clothes off and held her flailing limbs down before taking turns.

Sarah screamed her throat raw, and when they were done, finally ran her through the stomach. She sobbed for her dead, unborn child and barely noticed when her wild magic burst from her, killing two of the seven Death Eaters there, along with Katie.

She died without having found out that she'd failed to save the other two children.

One of the wizards kicked her corpse as her bowels let loose. Blood trickled out of a corner of her mouth, and her eyes were closed. The strain of the death was evident in her tightened muscles.

"Trash. They won't be disturbing our lord anymore," muttered a Death Eater and they Apparated away, all spells and wards broken.

Sirens rang in the distance.