The Face of Evil

Through the door sailed Mordante with Pansy Parkinson on his hand.

The majority of the gasps were for two reasons.

The first and obvious was seeing Ron Weasley, sworn Gryffindor with a Slytherin girl, a Slytherin girl who the entire school knew as Draco Malfoy's girlfriend. Several heads attempted to find the lad, but he could not be the seen.

Second was Ron Weasley, something had changed about him. He held himself in a different manner, strong, powerful and dominating.

Broad shoulders and straight back with a stiff hand and lip he walked into the hall, his partner by his side looking more beautiful than she ever had.

His red hair had changed color into flame, giving the effect that his hair was on perpetual fire.

This was so uniquely unprecedented people did not know how to react.

Unbelievably the Slytherin's kept their silence; the other houses had expected a roar of protest. In the end it was ultimately the members of Gryffindor house who protested.

'A Slytherin!'

'He's come to the ball with a Snake!'

'How, how could he? He's a Gryffindor!'

Exclamations turned to insults; slowly the Gryffindor house was edging on, demanding an explanation, any explanation.

But Mordante gave them no heed.

With a short bow he started his first dance of the evening. Others on the dance floor included the organisers who were too shocked at seeing their brother with a Slytherin to do anything.

A slow but persistent tune played accompanied with strong vocals.

Pansy placed her had on Mordante's shoulder as per tradition in an edged knife and he on her back. But there was something invisible to the naked eye. A small tear; an insertion at the back of Pansy's dress that allowed Mordante's index finger access to her naked flesh beneath.

As the music flowed Mordante blocked out the world and the dance commenced. They were moving so gracefully that no one including Ron Weasley's brothers could or wanted to stop them.

Those watching them dance, and those being quite a few saw Pansy suddenly tilt forward to collapse into Mordante's arms and embrace while continuing to dance. Most dismissed as a lover's embrace and caused much speculation, again the heads turned to find Draco Malfoy.

The real truth behind the falling embrace was shockingly different.

A spiked ring was on the index finger of Mordante's right hand the same one inside the dress of Pansy Parkinson. During a turn he ceased to lead her with his palm, instead choosing to thrust the spikes in and guiding the dance with them.

Pansy's body rocked with pain from head till toe. Pain as she had never experience before gripped her and she lost her ability to stand. Mordante caught her in the dancing embrace. Her face in his robes hidden intentionally, tears streamed down her cheeks as they turned and turned, the spikes digging in giving her the lead.

'There is no difference between pleasure and pain my dear, only the mind seeks to differentiate the two,' he whispered as she whimpered.

Blood flowed freely down her back absorbed by the black robe converted gown it did not show outside. And to the outside world they seemed the most intimate couple.

The only person who was quite pleased was Dumbledore, Slytherin Gryffindor relations something he had not seen in a long time. We cannot alienate that house he thought to himself as he looked upon the joyous couple waltzing around the room, oblivious to the tension brewing in the room.

'Harry did, did you know?' asked a very shocked Hermione.

'Believe me I had no idea!' said an equally shocked Harry.

The others at the table didn't even speak, their mouths opening and closing like goldfishes out of water.

Finally George took up the courage to pass Mordante while dancing with his partner.

'Ron, when was this?' he asked, faking amusement as not to ruffle Pansy

Without changing his set dance sequence he replied, 'quite sometime back.'

'Why didn't you tell us?' asked Fred as he hovered through.

'Some things are better left untold,' he cited as he moved away from them, he could see the white dress now, fluttering and flowing in the air. The blood sparkled, reflecting a thousand lights that surrounded them.

Once again Pansy was converted into the illusion of the angel.

'Ron! Come back!' hissed George, but to no avail Mordante was lost in his world.

'What's got into him?' asked Katie to all three present.

'I don't know, but I intend to find out, sooner than later,' said George.

Meanwhile across the room the teachers had resumed their chatter, some of course focused on the new Slytherin-Gryffindor relationship and how it was too sudden.

Prof. McGonagall was a little perturbed, 'she's too close to him!' she exclaimed thinking that they had crossed the bounds of decency for a public dance.

Notably Mrs. Sewensky was in a very strange mood, it was quickly attributed to the fact that one of her Slytherin's was dancing with a Gryffindor. She was still young the older faculty thought, and the rivalry ran deep.

Draco Malfoy appeared to be enjoying himself when he finally chose to reveal himself. He paid no attention to the spectacle on the dance floor and instead diverted his numerous charms to the various Slytherin ladies present.

His offers were taken up by more than a few, but he had now become second class. In Slytherin house the true power would for a long time lie with a Gryffindor.

The Gryffindors however did not appear to be happy with this sort of arrangement. Had this been in a traditional manner the entire ball room would have become a free for all, however the tension created by the Gryffindors was not returned by the Slytherin's, much to their surprise. The air became clear again and the dance continued.

Mordante did not switch partners through out the evening.

The next day Hogwarts woke up with quite a groan. The events of the previous nights had taken their toll on the well balanced sleep patterns of its residents.

Several of them found themselves to be 'not alone' in the morning, much to their shock and embarrassment.

Around the world however other more important events were taking place

Unknown Location

The hall was oval in shape. It consisted of a central table where the transcribers sat. Around which were rows of desks each magically equipped to give out the correctly translated speech. The translator box was above the entire group. In there a hundred of the magical community's best translators worked to keep the delegates informed in a language of their choice with second to second translations.

The desks were filled for an emergency meeting of the International Wizard's Council had been convened. Dumbledore and three colleges presided over the entire gathering from a set of oak desks clearly differentiated and separate from the rest.

'... therefore, I must express my profound disagreement with the delegate from Bulgaria over the matter of border control. We are moving towards a borderless Europe and our treaties, especially in regard to the European Union will not allow such undertaking.'

The delegate sat down. Almost immediately the waiting list of speech requests came up.

But Dumbledore exercised his right of first speech.

'Fellow delegates the problem at hand crosses all boundaries of nationality, race and religion. The threat of Voldemort is immediate and his major attacks are eminent, the time for talk is over we need to act.'

'What do you propose!' a wizard shouted from the background a chorus of agreement followed

'I was coming to that. We must unite our forces to form an army to battle the one that Voldemort is currently setting up. Some countries such as the United Kingdom will have severe problems as we have no standing wizard army assembled. But those countries which have should start pooling in their resources, while the rest begin building.'

A mummer went through the crowd; it had been centuries since such a demand had been made on the wizarding nations. Many of the countries which had armies felt that their contributions would be in excess and the others would get a free ride.

Dumbledore an anticipated this line of thought and therefore added, 'all countries will contribute to this army in every means they can, those who cannot provide trained troops will aid in monetary and weapon resources.'

This statement bought calm to the agitated council and the foundations and thinking slowly started to embed it self in their minds.

The speaker list was activated once again, Dumbledore sat down with a sigh, it will be sometime before any action is taken.

Somewhere in Scotland

Ironically the army of evil was well under way in its training. Samanagey the elf had proved to be a very wise choice and the troops were almost in battle ready condition.

Voldemort looked over them with pride; this would be his arrow to Dumbledore's body and Hogwarts that will shove the steel into his heart.

The door opened and Sammagey the elf walked in. He was quick to bow to the figure of Voldemort.

'My Lord,' he spoke softly to call attention to himself.

Voldemort turned to face him he motioned him to speak.

'Sire, their training is complete in all the magical forms. But the final mission has not been given to them, may I ask where will we strike?' he said.

'You have done well, Sammagey. But the target cannot be revealed even to you, the element of surprise is the key. I do not question the loyalty of my men, but I do not take unnecessary risks. Thus you will have to wait,' said Voldemort.

'Yes, my lord,' said Samanagey his head still bowed.

'I am leaving England for a few days; take care of the troops,' said Voldemort with finality in his voice which suggested the meeting was over.

Sammagey bowed his head and exited.

'It shall be tonight,' he murmured to himself.

Hogwarts Castle

Again Mordante began his night journey through the corridors to strengthen the connected between his father and Harry Potter.

He arrived once more at the same location where he had stood three days ago.

'Father,' he softly spoke.

'Excellent, my son,' replied Voldemort

Harry was pulled out of his state of dreamless sleep and into Voldemort's reality.

'Good Evening, Harry Potter,' said Voldemort.

Harry did not reply.

'I have awaited your answer long,' he continued.

I will never join you!

The words rushed from Harry's mind at such speed that it nearly threw Voldemort of balance, nearly...

'What made you come to this obviously foolish decision?' asked Voldemort barely controlling his anger.

For a long time after that Harry would regret his answer. Each time he would try and justify it as a reflex something beyond his control, but it would always come back and haunt him.

Hermione.

The truth screamed into the mind of Voldemort breaking the dam of pure rage. The connection was snapped and Harry sent back to Hogwarts.

'He shall pay dearly! HE SHALL PAY DEARLY! And suffer the consequence will his reason, she shall suffer greatly.'

Harry woke in the morning with a start. He found himself drenched with sweat.

'I gave the answer,' he said to himself, 'I said no.'

He felt the burden lift from his shoulders now that the decision had been made. Life would return to normal, or the way it had been before Voldemort's invitation. The apple of temptation had been offered, found poisonous and refused.

The blanket was tossed on the ground.

'Wonder how that happened?' he thought to himself.

'As if I didn't know,' he murmured.

After half an hour he went to the training area to meet Dumbledore for his mage training.

Mordante's Chamber

'Father, what is to be done now?' said Mordante using his link.

'We have his answer,' said Voldemort.

'I'm leaving these shores; I have a world war to conduct. England is a poor place to use as war centre. Especially with the old fool sniffing about. You are now in charge, son. Keep the old fool at bay and deal with Potter.'

'I don't know what to say, Father,' said Mordante.

'Be grateful,' said Voldemort.

'Thank you father,' said Mordante.

'You also have my full permission to do what you wish to his girlfriend, but I want him alive. I wash my hands of the rest of them.'

With those words Voldemort cut the connection.

Mordante smiled, this was the opening, and this was the opportunity he had been waiting for. The responsibility of the entire United Kingdom operations was his. He would not fail, not now not ever.

Voldemort prepared himself to Aparte. The war was about to begin, but if subverted that would be for the best. He intended to do precisely that.

Harry Potter would be taken care of by his heir; orders had been given for the ascension.

The Olgithe was not being left behind.

A flash later Voldemort was transported to his destination.

The Hallways of Hogwarts:

The classes were proceeding as normal. The gossip of the dance was at its height at this point of time.

Hermione was passing through the corridor on her way to class; she could here the giggling and the laughter. It lifted her spirits and that of Hogwarts.

'Did you see Ron Weasley!' exclaimed an excited fourth year Ravenclaw 'He looked so ...'

'Dashing,' finished another, 'I know.'

'Too bad he's going out with a Slytherin scum,' interjected a Hufflepuff fifth year.

'Yes,' sighed the first girl, 'but when he's free.'

'He can be made free,' said the second girl smiling.

A wash of giggles went through the air.

Hermione shook her head, also smiling. But then she remembered Ron with Pansy. Why her? she thought. A pang of guilt went through her; maybe I drove him to her? But what drove her to him?

Hermione was not one to discriminate. She always felt that individual achievement, choice and personality were always greater that house allegiance.

Harry Potter was learning Strategic Planning in the Warrior Training Room. He mind was filled with the names of tactics and counter tactics, while his hand furiously worked to write it all down.

'What's wrong Potter?' asked Snape is a disdainful tone.

'Nothing Professor,' Harry quickly replied.

Snape muttered something and continued to teach.

'War strategy essentially in the magical world has not changed in a long time. This is mainly due to the fact that there have been no great magical wars for the past few centuries. The magical world chose to either coincide with the Muggles during their wars or to completely ignore them. Therefore, the magic world has been used to skull drudgery and black coats in the recent time not an all out war. However, since Voldemort threatens again, it may well turn into a full war. Thus you must know and understand the strategy that goes behind such a war, even though you are too young and too brash to use any of it.'

The last comment pinched Harry but he did not show any out worldly emotion.

Snape continued.

'Unlike the muggle trench warfare the magical war is fought on open ground. Much like in the dark ages the armies charge each other. However they all have magical weapons and powers, enhanced by various charms.'

'These charms are powerful invocations of ancient magic which provide extra protection, stamina and durability to the warriors, but at a cost. The war must be then fought according to the war laws laid down by the ancients. Both sides will be using these charms to the maximum extent possible. The rules that were laid down are inflexible.

The war is broken down into one on one combats between the units. When one unit attacks the other, they are enclosed in an impenetrable bubble. They must then duel until one of them is vanquished or defeated. Thus the entire field is converted into a centre of mini-duels. Are you noting all this down Potter?'

'Yes, Professor' he replied.

Harry's mind started to spin with these facts. But he continued to write.

'There is however no limit to the time that the war takes or the intervals. Anyone on the battle field including medi-wizards is fair game to the other side's attacks. The ancients were both fair and ruthless in that way. It is our advantage to fight during the light as the armies of the dark gain great strength at night. Magical Creatures from both sides will join the battle; each species will have its own time of strength.'

France:

Monsieur Francis Legrand was walking up the steps of the French magical government. Being the deputy minister of magic he had spent hours drafting the bill that would unite France with the rest of the world against Voldemort.

It would be a tough sell, the Ministry reeked of Voldemort infiltrated supporters and those who wished to negotiate to avoid war. The French had always been a diplomatic people.

They were right in their own way, but they had no experience with Voldemort.

Francis Legrand shook his head; it would be a tough sell.

A sweeper with a mop came out of the old building.

'Bonjour Monsieur,' the sweeper greeted Legrand.

Legrand was in a hurry and did not recognize the sweeper. He nodded his head in acknowledgement and passed by.

There was a flash of green light.

An apartment in Argentina:

Peter Caballeros walked into the meeting, though the battered yet sturdy wooden door.

The gathering consisted of the people who supported Argentina's entrance into the world war. But they were in a minority.

The economic crises still plagued the country and the government was weary of the expense involved. Already a private vote had turned down any such notion.

This was the last group of people who still pushed and they were getting a voice albeit slowly.

He shook hands one by one, they were a small group.

He then took his designated seat and waited for the meeting to start.

The main speaker got up and cleared his throat.

The last thing the group heard was someone muttering a spell and then the explosion.

Department of Magic, China, Director's office:

Lou Chang was the Director of the magical department in the government. His job profile mirrored the Minister of Magic in the United Kingdom.

China was already under the siege of Lord Voldemort. The paper work on Chang's desk seemed to reach the ceiling.

One of the sad results of the communist system was the amount of paper work that was generated.

Chang was fully aware that his Muggle counter part used the latest computer technologies to handle such matters, but the magical world was adamant against change. As with most of the world they despised Muggle technology and belittled its use.

He opened to report of General Sou. Southwest magical china was completely under Voldemort's control.

Apart from the local popularity of his policies, he was seen as a resurrection of an ancient Chinese legend about a warrior savior who would come to lead China into glory. They had no idea that he was from England.

Most of it was a fabrication, but it had some roots in Chinese history and it sparked a chain of patriotic fervor.

Government troops which had been sent in had met with stiff resistance. To compound the problem the Muggle population was beginning to suspect. The dual nature of the task was perilous and posed great restrictions.

General Sou had requested temporary permission to ignore the muggle population. The Chinese media would be controlled and the area sealed. Afterwards the department could rectify the damage.

Chang pondered over this fact. The question was how much they were willing to risk. For Chang the answer was clearly in the affirmative. He had seen the documentation of Voldemort provided by the United Kingdom.

But many of the people in his department opposed his policies. He knew the reason; he had brought far reaching reforms to the system. Curbing most of the privileges government officers enjoyed by default, brought him great unpopularity. They were waiting for an opportunity to throw him out.

This just may do it. But without the order Voldemort would surely win, Sou was right it would be impossible to fight while keeping the Muggles in the dark. He sighed and started to sign.

Just then the door burst open. He looked up from the paper. Two men in military uniform stood in front of him.

They were the elite commando units of the department. Their wands and modified stun / kill wands rest on their sides.

'Director Chang,' said one of them.

'Yes?' he asked

In a moment they were at his side, next his wand was taken.

'Director Chang we have a dictate for your arrest,' said the other

'What!' Chang exclaimed in shock, 'what for!'

'For conspiracy against the government in coalition with Eastern Rebel groups,' said one of the commandos.

'That's insane! I am innocent!' he shouted.

'That is of no consequence to us director. We must follow orders.'

They handcuffed him and led him out.

Saudi Arabia

The magic council met in the traditional hall meant for the purpose

'This is a new threat, unknown to us. How can we trust them? This could be part of a conspiracy against the Arab world!'

Ahmed shook his head in disgust. The traditionalists and extremists that populated the magical council were dead against accepting any news or information from the outside. They looked upon the western world with a deep suspicion which they had formed in their yesteryears.

Sometimes long life can be a curse Ahmed mused, they live in periods fifty years past and even then they were considered old by some standards.

Thank Allah that Nasrudin Shah was at the head of the council. He was sensible and his word carried great weight, his decision would be the council's decision.

But Ahmed was not aware of the turmoil in Nasrudin Shah's mind. His family had been taken hostage. His wife, children, their spouses, their children in all fifteen were being held. The demand was that he votes against the joining of Saudi Arabia in the war against Voldemort.

The images of his family life began to flash before his eyes. His marriage, the birth of his first child, the family games, children going to school, children going to university, getting married, him becoming a grandfather...

His entire life's work was for and with his children. It was for their dreams he toiled day on and on until they were settled. And one vote would seal their fate...

'Nasrudin...' said the voice of his colleague for the third time.

He cleared his throat with a cough.

'The problems of the world are great and many. But our problems are not few either. The unique problem of this Voldemort person lies with the western world. He is of their origin and their design. We cannot immediately denounce him as an enemy, for all we know he may be an ally. He already enjoys much support in the Arab World. Pakistan for an example is all but under his control.'

Nasrudin paused before he told the greatest lie in his life. He prayed to Allah for forgiveness.

'Some even say that he in decent of the great prophet himself.'

That sentence finished it. Though Nasrudin went on for a good fifteen minutes more, his decision had been given.

Ahmed stared with shock at the old man. Surely, he could not be going senile. Just the other day he was vengefully against Voldemort, what happened now? Ahmed suspected foul play was afoot, but he was in a minority then.

Nasrudin's speech swayed the council; the decision to join the war was overthrown.

The Chamber's of Mordante

Mordante had been deep in though for the past hours.

He had been quick to accept the burden and now he had to face it. In his mind carefully recorded were the entire schematics of the death eater organisation in the United Kingdom.

They had so far been quite a bit dormant while Voldemort had been setting his sights to a global level. That had to change.

A grim smile came to his face. The ministry day in and day out were screeching victories and wars. They claimed they were winning. They didn't know how wrong they were.

Years had made them soft. It was time the darkness rose.

Mordante started to write down instructions

To The Ezequil Team,

List of Targets:

All civilians are to be considered targets. Ministry officials are the primary targets.

DO NOT ENGAGE IN TIME CONSUMING ACTS OF TORTURE. THIS IS A HIT AND RUN MISSION.

(Seal of Mordante)

To The Ankontus Team

Randomly torture, rape, pillage mud-blood wizarding families throughout main London. Ensure that flaming skull is seen over the target area once the operation is complete.

If possible avoid using the killing curse as a method of death. Use more convenient and long drawn measures. The carnage must be visually effective, use spells that cause such.

(Seal of Mordante)

The recruitment drive was going favourably. They were flush with new recruits eager to join the battle. People had lost confidence in the Ministry and they then turned to the winning side. The new generation of death eaters was not just loyal followers as the earlier ones, but a group raised of discipline and fanatic blind faith.

While most of the earlier groups served a dual life both pillars of society and members of the dark, the new groups were dedicated 24/7 to the task of the dark. Their training was complete. Field work would start.

He continued to write instructions to the various teams and groups.

After an hour he was done. His mind turned to more important matters, his daily conversations with the Angel of Darkness.

The melancholy music vibrated through the chambers once again. And thus he spun, round and round, dancing with an imaginary being until the one he sought came to life in front of him. He had found it easier to speak Jezeldarsa instead of English, it being a more powerful and able language it allowed them to cross the physical boundaries of reality.

He looked around him; he was in a palace or pure marble.

Slowly he walked ahead through a grand door of granite.

Sunlight shown through the stainless glass windows of the corridor, lighting his pathway with rainbows on and on he went. The music became louder, a whisper was calling him.

Through the deep blue pools of water, he ran his hand through, experiencing the cool sensation on his fingertips.

Then at the end he went through, arrived in the grand ballroom. The ceiling was the night sky, reflecting the moonlight on the silver and gold floor.

'Intina Riobe' said Mordante as he caressed her face

(My angel)

They danced in silence

'Lis Piota Eirt' she whispered

(You seem tired)

'Er Quaz Myus Intina Syma'

(The world awaits my accent)

'Hy Intina' she said softly 'Weyes Intinas Utio'

(And I) (Soon we unite)

'Intina Myus Er Hiz, Ger Ti Rey Nict Dizen'

(I wait the day, each second until be torture)

They swayed across the room in an embrace. Neither wanting to let go; the pressure of their arms crushed each other as if they could combine themselves into one

'Er Trige Nict Intinima Intina' she whispered

(The dark be within me)

'Ruhe Kipe Buyen Saleg Hy Sagle' spoke Mordante 'Intina Dyu Lis'

(Purity in true form and face) (I need you)

'Lis Req Nictes Intina'

(You shall have me)

'Siya'

(When?)

'Siya Trige Lest Lok Migre, Hy Er Quaz Nica Vug Gly Lis'

(When darkness leaves neigh light, and the world is drowned with you)

'Tas Nica Intina Zuet'

(Time is my enemy)

'Ret Lis Intina'

(As is mine)

'Intina Octlok Myus'

(I cannot wait)

'Lis Nictesta'

(You must)

'Intina Fie Lis Nictes'

(My life you possess)

'Er Intina Gly Lis'

(And mine with you)

With those last words she vanished and Mordante fell to the ground weeping

'Intina Riobe, Intina Riobe...)

(My Angel, my angel...)

Prefect Dormitories: Common Garden

Hermione sat near the fountain, her transfiguration homework lay done in front of her. Her body was there, but her mind roamed somewhere else.

'Why did Ron go to the dance with Pansy Parkinson?' asked Hermione aloud. Her logical mind could find no reasonable answer to this. She began to re-examine the entire situation.

Their actions on the dance floor were intimate, too intimate. As if they had been with each other for a great length of time.

Yet there was no evidence, no forewarning in Ron's behaviour to have indicated this. Then again I haven't spent much time with Ron lately, neither has Harry. Another bout of guilt passed over her.

She would find Ron. Hermione stood up.

Warrior Training Room

Harry lay exhausted on the floor. Hours of training both physical and mental had taken their toll. His body refused to move.

'If Voldemort doesn't kill me, this will,' he told himself aloud as Dumbledore circled him.

Then with one mighty heave he jumped to his feet

Never say die, he thought, I wonder where Hermione is?

Mordante's Chamber

'She is the key,' said Mordante, 'she is the key to everything.'

He was alone in the room, talking to himself.

'If I control her, I can control them all. But how can it be achieved? It is not in my plans for a confrontation with Dumbledore while taking her. Afterwards there can be a showdown of sorts.'

Mordante was feeling supremely confident; his mage training had passed all his father could teach him. Now, through the books and deeds of Lord Slytherin he endeavored to become better.

'Taking her will force Harry Potter to come out in the open.'

Suddenly alarm bells sounded in his mind. Hermione Granger was approaching his illusionary figure sitting in the Gryffindor common room. Just this morning he had to switch focus to dodge the Weasley brothers.

His pupils dilated and his full concentration and conscious was transferred to the illusion.

Mordante opened his eyes to see Hermione bearing down on him. There was no room or chance for escape; he would have to talk with her.

'Hermione!' Mordante exclaimed his face breaking into a genuine smile, though the reason was quite different.

'Hello! Ron, what have you been up to?' she asked trying to approach the subject from a different angle.

Ron faked a blush.

'Oh! Nothing much,' he replied.

'Well, there must be something to send you blushing like that!' said Hermione smiling from side to side.

Ron turned deep-root red.

'Um, Hermione I have a girlfriend,' said Mordante hesitating.

'That much I figured.' said Hermione smiling at the embarrassed Mordante, 'so, when did this happen.'

'Well, Harry was in the hospital, and you were busy taking care of him. They did not allow any visitors to his ward and my attempts to sneak in failed after that one. Well I was kind of lonely and went to the lake. There I found Pansy crying,' said Mordante he paused for breathe.

'Go on' said Hermione gently.

'Well, I asked her why, and she wouldn't tell. We got talking however and found that we liked each other's company. After a week or so like that I propositioned her to the dance!' said Mordante.

'Oh!' said Hermione, 'but, Ron you do realise that she is a Slytherin?'

'Believe me Hermione, I do. I've been dodging catcalls and questions all day. She's not like them Hermione, she only has to act that way to fit in. The sorting hat made a mistake perhaps, or maybe it's because of her family. They were all in Slytherin, so the hat put her in Slytherin too,' he sighed. The same bloody way it put me in Gryffindor.

Hermione was having an internal conflict. The facts Ron had stated were quite normal and in-fact quite remarkable if not noble. Ron was fighting against the world's prejudice for his love.

The only problem was however, that she had a deep rooted dislike for Pansy. Also no matter how much she tried, the roots of the house rivalry were inside her. Her mind repulsed the idea of Slytherin. So, let me be a hypocrite she thought at least Ron will be pleased.

'Poor you, at least I'm glad you found a girlfriend Ron,' she said, instead of me she thought. She felt a little pang of remorse, she had quite gotten used to his looks of admiration.

'Me too Herm,' he said.

'Why don't we go find Harry?' said Hermione.

'Capital idea,' said Mordante.

They exited the common room, received a warning from the fat lady about missing classes and headed down the corridors to find Harry Potter.

A Desert:

The last remaining rebellion against the dark conquest hid in an ancient fortress made of sandstone.

No one was left, save the children and a force of a hundred men.

Their Chief was with them. Council was called.

'Chief, what must be done?' questioned an advisor.

The chief rose up. His body covered by the armour of his ancestors, generations of warriors who commanded the tribes and unified them into one strong nation.

What remained of the warriors stood before, a hundred men.

'Warriors! We have shed blood. And this blood has flowed in rivers. Our comrades lie in the sand, sweet now with the resting of their graves. We are the last, the last.

Outside it is dark, as dark as the enemy's lord. But in our hearts we carry the light, the light of a dream that was our existence, a vision a paradise which we saw and lived together. That vision will live on in the texts of history, etched with our blood that will flow today.'

He raised his sword to sky.

'LET THEM NOT HAVE DIED IN VAIN!'

Outside the enemy were gathering ten thousand soldiers of the dark armies marching towards the fortress.

The gate burst open. In a single file the hundred men walked outside the gate, to form a line facing them down.

A laugh, a mirthless empty laugh swept through the ranks of the dark. A hundred against thousands the outcome of the war was clear.

Yet their general was of experience, he knew the dangers of over confidence.

'Arms!' he shouted.

His shout was echoed through the ranks as the organized army prepared it self for war. As one great body the weapons of death rose through the air, supported by their hands raised in fervour and strength prepared.

On the other side, the warriors calm raised their bamboo sticks, carved to perfection by years of skilled craftsmen ship.

A blue hue emitted form the top of each as the magical elements within charged with the rage in the hearts of the holders.

The dark general gave a grim smile.

'And so it ends,' he exclaimed.

'In the name of the LORD,' he screamed.

'Steady,' cautioned the chief, 'Steady.'

As if a canon had been fired a war cry ran through the dark armies as they charged over the sands.

'TO THE DEATH' shouted the chief as they charged.

The sky lit up with an angry red as the two clashed. The use of the ancient charms prevented the warriors from being overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

Green glow mixed with red fire, the glow of the all too familiar death ebbed from every corner, rising up in smoke of ash, human ash.

In half an hour in was finished. The battle had been won.

The warriors lay dead on the floor, some decapitated most mutilated.

Their chief's head placed on a spike. The cries of victory rose up in a crescendo; the spike was raised to the sky.

'General, what about the children inside?'

'The next generation of rebels, kill them all,' said the General as he walked down the dunes towards the portkey. The lord will be pleased.

Hours later, the teams from the international council arrived.

All they could see were the dead, in all their sarcastic glory, smiling at their feeble attempts against the dark.

The elders of the council wept a silent tear. They had done nothing.

The corridors of Hogwarts:

Harry turned the corner to bump straight into the pair of Mordante and Hermione.

'Harry,' exclaimed Mordante, 'finally we get to see you!'

'Oh! Stop it Ron I wasn't gone that long,' Harry smiled, the face of his friend, his true and loyal best friend brought him new energy and comfort. They hugged for a brief moment.

'I'm glad your finally back Harry,' said Ron beaming.

'Me too Ron,' said Harry, 'me too.'

Hermione quickly filled in Harry on the one question on his mind, the sudden appearance of Parkinson on the scene.

'Ron! Why didn't you tell me!' said Harry a little perturbed but happy, 'no, no, don't answer that, I know why.'

'My, it's lunch time!' exclaimed Hermione changing the subject.

'To the Hall then!' said Mordante pointing like a roman soldier.

The trio laughed as they entered the hall.

Hogwarts lunch was as usual, platefuls of food and plenty of drink.

A pause at the entrance of Harry Potter was the highlight of this otherwise uneventful lunch.

'Nice to have you back, young lad!' said Fred.

'We we beginning to think you had been expelled!' added George.

'That would apply for you two more than for him you know,' pointed Alicia.

The twins grinned, she knew of their latest prank schedule

Harry smiled it was good to be back among his friends. For that moment he was but a child, a child studying at a wizard school, looking forward to the Quidditch matches and dreading the exams.

But a voice inside told him, that they would be no Quidditch matches. They had been cancelled. The house heads was too busy, and the matches too dangerous to conduct. Hogwarts had been in an uproar, the last time this had happened was when the chamber of secret's had been opened. Yet he ignored the voices, let me be at peace.

He laughed at Justin's joke and poked fun at Seamus.

The undertone of the table was of course Mordante's conduct with Pansy, but the question had become some what volatile and the Gryffindors largely now ignored the incident as a one time incident, a bad dream that would go away now that they had awoken.

Mordante looked across the table at his sister. A mere mortal, trapped in her own mind. Her desire for Potter was obvious, but hidden well now from the rest.

But he could see it her eyes, the hunger, the want, the need.

She will be set free, he said to himself, she will be set free.

Diagon Alley:

The shops were mainly closed for lunch, but the restaurants packed and ready for business.

Busy magical people talked as they ate the most traditional British cuisine.

It was short lived.

A group of twenty men dressed as Death Eaters suddenly appeared in the centre.

The street was turned into one of chaos, some managed to Aparte, and others were either to afraid to do anything or were with children who could not.

It was a massacre as none other for fifty years previous in the history of London. The death toll reached eighty five.

The skull of evil raised its head high, above the flames that engulfed the place.

By the time ministry wizards came, the dark army had already vanished.

Hogwarts Fourth Year Dormitories: Gryffindor

Ginny Weasley closed her tearful eyes. She was glad he was alright; the strain of her worry for him had taken its toll. Her studies were quite difficult and she had problems keeping up with the doings of the duelling club. She had put too much effort trying to prove herself worthy, worthy of what she was no longer clear, but worthy enough for Harry Potter. Her academics took the mental toll and the duels the physical.

Professor Arabella had started the duels between the students in the same classes. She wanted them to get a grasp of the basics first.

Ginny needed to prove that was able enough to fight alongside everyone, especially Harry; it had placed great strain on her. She had shrunken herself into a shell; too scared to ask how he was, in case they still suspect her crush.

She laughed, a crush, a living nightmare threatened to consume her. Desire, lust, need and want the manifestations in their true form.

But she would never have him now, his heart belonged to another. She was just a picture in the background, a window still, a curtain to be ignored.

She felt cold, not from inside, but outside. A wind blew through the white sheets, freezing her skin. She wrapped herself more tightly; the cold however did not change.

Ginny....

'Who's it?' she asked

Ginny...

'This is not funny girls, you nearly scared me,' she sighed out the breadth in her throat.

Ginny... They cannot hear you....

'Who are you?' she backed into the corner of her bed.

A friend...

'Show yourself!' she commanded

Pick a mirror and you will see me...

'What are you!' she spoke through her trembling breath

I am you, your needs, your wants, your hopes, your dreams, your reality, your conscious....

I am the air you breathe...

I am your heart inside....

I am your soul within....

I am you...

And you are me...

And then with a single stroke her fear vanished

'What do you, or I want?' she said

To set us free...

'Free from what?'

The chains in your mind....

'My mind?'

The chains you that were forged by those around you link by link... throughout your life....

'How?' said Ginny

Take a deep breath Virginia and close your eyes...

The breath was taken and the eyes closed. Innocence ebbed from the invisible wounds evaporating into the atmosphere, gone through the windows into the darkness of the night.