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FIC: Phoenix Rising, Part 32 of 37
Title: Phoenix Rising, Part 32 of 37
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Word count: ~9,260
Warning: AU; my own version of Year 6 (was written pre-HBP).
Author's notes: {} Indicates character's unspoken thought
Disclaimer: No money is being made off this story; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part.
Sequel to: Always (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6), Summer Vacation (Part 1, Part 2), For Old Time's Sake (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5), Three's a Crowd (or, Summer Vacation II) (Part 1, Part 2), Return of the Raven (Part 1, Part 2), Phoenix Reborn (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8)
Summary: Gwydion finally shows his true colors when Voldemort orders him to kidnap Goewin.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31
***
Voldemort was feeling stronger now, sustained by blood and magic, but it was still only a temporary measure. He could not return to full strength and power until he had slain the Potter child--but how? Killing a half-trained wizard ought to be child's play, but the boy had escaped certain death time and time again. Voldemort needed an edge, some advantage against the boy...but what? Finally Voldemort decided to brew a Prophecy Potion in an attempt to see the future and how he might prevail over Potter. Snape was the best potion-brewer among all his Death Eaters, better even than the Dark Lord himself, so he should have entrusted this task to his servant, particularly since the potion was a complicated one that called for ingredients that were poisonous in the wrong dosage. But Voldemort did not quite trust Snape, although he wasn't sure why. He couldn't quite put his finger on it; he had never detected a lie in Severus, never picked up anything from him but the appropriate amount of fear and reverence. Voldemort suspected that Snape served more out of fear than reverence, but that didn't matter to him as long as his servant remained loyal; fear was better than reverence at inspiring obedience, anyway. There was also the fact that Snape had worked for Dumbledore for the past fifteen years, of course, but Voldemort had been dead (or so everyone had believed), and Severus, like Lucius, was a prudent man who would be quick to cast his lot with the winning side. Now that Voldemort had returned alive and embodied, he was reasonably sure that Severus feared him more than Dumbledore.
But...Severus did not like to kill. He never flinched at the sight of death, but neither did he take pleasure in it as the Lestranges did. Voldemort suspected that Snape had a secret streak of honor, much as Rosier and Wilkes had. That was useful, because that sense of honor had kept Rosier and Wilkes loyal unto death, but it was also a weakness. Lucius Malfoy had no such weakness, and although it made him more dangerous, Voldemort respected him for it--at least as much as he ever respected any of his minions. But Severus had watched carefully over Evan Rosier's son, and Voldemort suspected there was a little more to it than simply grooming a future Death Eater or even nurturing a promising Potions apprentice. One could not say that Snape had been close friends with Evan Rosier and Lyall Wilkes, but they were the closest thing to friends that he had seemed to have in the old days. Voldemort thought it might be loyalty to his old friend's memory that made him watch over Dylan so closely; very touching, but it was a weakness, and Voldemort did not like weaknesses, and love was the worst weakness of all. Love made people do foolish things: a young heiress renounce her family and fortune for a Death Eater lover, a mother sacrifice her life to save her child. Voldemort was not sure that Severus's feelings for Dylan were strong enough to be called "love," but he took too much of an interest in the boy's safety, and to a lesser extent, the safety of his other students, for Voldemort's comfort. He still remembered how quickly Snape had reached for his wand when the roses had attacked Dylan. What might one do to protect a child one loved? Betray one's master, possibly...? Voldemort did not really think that Severus would be that foolish, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Besides, resorting to the Prophecy Potion might make him seem desperate, and the Dark Lord knew better than to appear weak before his followers.
So Voldemort locked himself up in his private chambers, telling his cringing servant Wormtail that he was not to be disturbed under any circumstances, and began brewing the potion. He very carefully measured out the proper amounts of hellebore, belladonna, and henbane into boiling water; all three herbs were poisonous, and could prove fatal if the dosage was off by even a fraction of an ounce. Not that Voldemort could truly die, but losing this body, as fragile and unsatisfactory as it was, would be a major inconvenience. Once the potion was properly brewed, steeped, and strained off, he poured it into a goblet and drank the bitter, foul-smelling mixture.
The room seemed to be spinning around him, and the goblet fell to the floor with a loud clatter. The Dark Lord joined the goblet a moment later, writhing in violent convulsions and foaming at the mouth. The last rational thought he had before the effects of the potion overwhelmed him was, {Perhaps I should have let Severus brew it, after all...}
In his thrashings, Voldemort knocked over some of the furnishings in his room, although he was not aware of it at the time. Outside the door, Wormtail trembled as he listened to the sound of loud crashes and his Master howling in pain or anger. He wondered if the Dark Lord was working some sort of magic that had gone horribly wrong. But the Master had said not to disturb him "under any circumstances," and Wormtail was not foolish enough to disobey and risk his wrath. He quietly crept away, looking for a dark corner to hide in, thinking that it would probably be prudent not to be around when the Dark Lord finally emerged from his chambers...
Meanwhile, Voldemort was lost in a series of visions that blurred and slipped away before he could grasp hold of them: Professor Dumbledore, as he had been over fifty years ago, regarding a young Tom Riddle with suspicion; James Potter raising his wand defiantly; Lily Potter, clutching her baby to her chest, pleading with him for mercy; Evan Rosier embracing his Ravenclaw lover; a beautiful young woman with red hair, who looked much like Lily Potter...
"No!" snarled Voldemort. "This is the past! I want to see the future--show me how I can defeat Potter!"
Everything went red and hazy, and he realized he was seeing through a filter of blood; it was everywhere, soaking his robes, dripping from his hands, spilling over his face and into his eyes. He wiped at his eyes impatiently, although he knew this was a vision and not reality; he looked out upon a battlefield strewn with the corpses of both allies and enemies, but he did not see the one body he wished to see...
"Potter!" he shouted. "Show me how to defeat Potter!"
Another series of visions, more chaotic than the last: a flock of crows; a pack of snarling wolves; tangled vines bearing sharp thorns and red roses; a serpent entwined around the body of a lion, who seemed to be trying to claw at the serpent...
"Yes!" hissed Voldemort. "Show me more!"
The vision blurred and coalesced into a single, clear image: a newborn baby girl with dark hair. The baby slowly opened her eyes--eyes that were solemn and wise, not the eyes of a mewling infant, eyes that were an odd but familiar shade of silver-gray...
He knew somehow that this child was vital to winning or losing the war, and strained to see more, but even as he tried to cling to consciousness, the vision slipped away and everything went black...
Voldemort awoke several hours later on the floor of his chambers, stiff and sore, and weak as a day old kitten, with a vile taste in his mouth, but inside he was filled with a sense of triumph. He crawled over to a wooden chest at the foot of his bed, which being made of heavy, sturdy oak, had fortunately not been knocked over during his seizure. He opened it and pulled several bottles from it with trembling hands, and downed in quick succession a bottle of Elixir of Vitality, two bottles of Strengthening Solution, and a flask of unicorn blood. Ironically, even as the Strengthening Solution replenished his energy, it served to weaken his body in the long run, but Voldemort didn't care. All he had to do was survive long enough to defeat Harry Potter, and then all the power in the world would be his.
Restored to something approaching normal strength, Voldemort pondered the vision. The child was a Donner, no doubt about it; those silver-gray eyes were unmistakable. But whose child? He considered the possibilities logically; blonde hair and gray eyes ran in the Donner family; the child had gray eyes but black hair--like Dylan. But it was unlikely, though not impossible, that Dylan could have fathered a child at Hogwarts. Unless this was a vision of the far future, after Dylan had married or taken a lover? No, Voldemort sensed that the vision he had seen would come to pass very soon. The baby was not Dylan's, then. No woman would touch Gilbert, since he was still believed to be a half-wit, and Voldemort knew that Gwydion had no lover at present; he kept close tabs on his reluctant servants, particularly since Gwydion had started getting friendly with that Auror, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Ariane had remained faithful to the memory of her long-dead lover, and in any case was kept locked up on her uncle's estate where she was unlikely to meet many suitors. Which left only the two elder members of the Donner clan: Deirdre and Mathias. Deirdre had been widowed for many years, so it was unlikely that the baby in the vision was hers, but Mathias had a young and comely wife...a wife with black hair.
A sense of exultation filled the Dark Lord: that was it! The child was the daughter of Mathias and Goewin, and now he thought he knew why it was so vital to the war: Goewin had once had the Sight, and such powers also ran in the Donner line, so it was likely that the Gift of Sight would be twice as powerful in the daughter, the combined heritage of both parents. With such a strong Seer, he could predict any move Dumbledore would make, could discover how to defeat Potter without resorting to the dangerous Prophecy Potion.
He flung open the door of his room and shouted for Wormtail. It was time to summon his Death Eaters, two in particular--Gilbert and Gwydion Donner. But there were two that he would not summon: Severus and Dylan. Of course, Dylan could much more easily find out if Goewin was pregnant, and if necessary, lure her into a trap, than his uncles could, but Dylan might balk at such a task. Dylan was a flawed vessel, one like his father, weakened by love. He loved his mother, and he appeared to love his great-aunt; he might be stupid enough to rebel if Voldemort tried to harm one of his loved ones. Of course, he could kidnap Ariane again, and use her to force Dylan to do his bidding; that would be amusing, to force Dylan to choose between two people he loved--but Voldemort preferred to keep Dylan blindly loyal and obedient for now, especially since he still needed the boy to control the roses. No, he would let the Donner brothers try their hand at it first, and keep the boy in reserve. And since Severus could not be trusted where Dylan was concerned, he too must be kept in the dark for now.
When Gwydion and Gilbert were standing before him, Voldemort asked, "Have you been in contact with your uncle of late?"
"No," Gwydion said sullenly, "he forbade me to step foot on his estate the summer before last, after we quarreled about Dylan. He chose that bastard brat over his own flesh and blood--"
"I don't care about your little family squabbles, Gwydion," Voldemort interrupted in a dangerous voice, and Gwydion fell silent. "I want you to find out--without drawing undue attention to yourself--if your aunt is pregnant."
"WHAT?!" screeched Gwydion.
"I have used my magic to seek visions of the future," Voldemort said calmly, not revealing the toll those visions had taken on his body, "and I believe that your aunt will give birth to a child with the Sight, one that could help sway the outcome of the war in our favor."
"B-but Uncle Math is OLD," Gilbert blurted out without thinking.
Voldemort gave him a patronizing look. "Dear me, I must have a talk with Severus," he said. "It seems that the potion is not working properly, because you still seem to be a half-wit." Gilbert flushed. "Age means little to our kind, Gilbert; you should know that. After all, Dumbledore is more than twice as old as your uncle, and he's still quite spry."
"Yes, but Dumbledore isn't running around fathering babies," Gwydion said caustically.
"Yes, well, Dumbledore doesn't have a pretty young thing to warm his bed like your uncle does," Voldemort retorted. "At any rate, I want you to find out if she really is pregnant or not. Make a show of reconciliation with your uncle if you must." Gwydion scowled, though he did not dare openly object, and Voldemort added, "It is to your benefit to discover the truth, because the child in my vision was a girl, and you know what that means." Gwydion went pale, and Voldemort smiled in a rather nasty way. "By the laws of inheritance, that child would become the heir instead of you, since the Donner title is passed through the female line. Your mother was able to disinherit Ariane because she associated with the Death Eaters even if she was not actually convicted of being one herself. But she has no such power over Mathias, who is a well-respected member of society, and I think he would fight her in court if she tried to rob his daughter of her birthright. Especially since it means he could still leave his own estate to his dear great-nephew, Dylan..."
Gwydion was now red and fuming with anger. "And if my aunt is pregnant, what do you intend to do with her and the child?"
Voldemort smiled. "Be assured, that no matter what I decide, the child will be no longer be a threat to you."
Gwydion smiled grimly and bowed. "I will eagerly do your bidding, then, Master."
***
But that was easier said than done. His mother still wanted nothing to do with her brother, and he could not enlist her help without making her suspicious. He took the risk of sending a conciliatory letter to his uncle, not quite apologizing (because that would be out of character), but saying that he wished to let bygones be bygones. He suggested that they get together for dinner; Math neatly sidestepped his efforts to visit the estate by offering to treat him to dinner at a restaurant in London. They made polite small talk; Math complimented Gwydion on gaining his position at the Ministry, and Gwydion casually asked how Goewin was doing.
"She's fine," Math said with a smile.
"She did not wish to accompany you tonight, Uncle?"
"You and she are not the best of friends, Gwydion," Math said with a gentle smile. "I think she felt dinner would go more smoothly if she were not here."
Gwydion was annoyed, but it was a plausible enough excuse; surely Math didn't suspect anything...did he? Pressing the issue would certainly raise suspicions even if there had been none before, so all he said was, "Well, that is true enough, Uncle. But I do not wish to be at odds with you even though I do not approve of her choice of heir. We are family, after all."
"It gladdens my heart to hear you say that, Nephew. I hope someday you can view Dylan as family, too; it is not his fault that his parents made foolish choices in their youth."
Gwydion gritted his teeth, thinking, {If only you knew that your precious great-nephew is a Death Eater like his parents!}
"But I do not wish to fight with you tonight," Math continued. "So let us agree to disagree for now."
"Agreed," Gwydion said, attempting to smile pleasantly. {Well, that was a complete waste of time.} He was sure that with time he could win Math's trust, but that could take weeks, and he didn't think that the Dark Lord was willing to wait that long.
So he began making subtle inquiries, which was easy enough since the people in his mother's social circle loved to gossip about their peers. They were doubly eager to gossip about a family feud--as long as Deirdre was not around to hear it. And they thought it was touching that Gwydion was still concerned about his uncle despite the rift between his mother and her brother. He also made contact with some old acquaintances in Wales; he had spent a great deal of time there as a boy, before the falling out with his uncle over Goewin's rape, and he still had friends who lived there.
Slowly he pieced together the scraps of information he received from his various sources: no one had seen Goewin in public since November, during the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match at Hogwarts. Mathias and his wife tended to keep to themselves, but did venture into the local village or into London on errands from time to time, but no one had seen Goewin in months, which was rather odd. The concerned villagers inquired after Goewin when Math came into town, but he merely smiled and said that she was busy with some research, or that she was feeling a bit under the weather but that it was nothing serious. Finally, Gwydion found the confirmation he was looking for. Math had brewed some healing potions for the local clinic when one of the village children fell seriously ill--the sort of generosity that had made him very well-liked among the villagers--and the child's mother had gone up to the mansion with a home-baked pie as a thank-you gift. Math accepted the gift with appreciation, but did not invite her in for a cup of tea as he normally would have done. As the woman was leaving, she happened to glance up and catch a glimpse of a woman--merely a silhouette outlined behind the curtains as the sunlight fell through the window. The silhouette showed a very rounded figure, and gossip spread very slowly and quietly through the village, that Master Donner's wife might be with child. No doubt they were very anxious about the pregnancy, since twenty years had passed with no sign of a child up until now. Perhaps the pregnancy was a difficult one, if Goewin needed to be confined to the mansion for bed rest for so long; they probably didn't want to make the news public until they were sure that she would be able to carry the child to term. The villagers were fond of the Donners, so they kept their silence and waited anxiously for the announcement of a birth. But one young man, who had been Gwydion's playmate as a child, saw no harm in passing on the rumor to Math's nephew. The feud between Mathias Donner and his sister was a sad thing, after all, and the birth of a child might be just the catalyst needed to set a family reunion into motion.
Gwydion triumphantly reported the news to his Master, who seemed very pleased. "Good work, Gwydion," Voldemort said. "If she was pregnant in November, when she was last seen in public, she must be coming due soon--probably within the next month or two. We should capture her now."
"Now?" asked a startled Gwydion. "Why not wait till the baby's born?"
"Math will only set up stronger protections around the child once it is born, if he suspects its importance, and he must, if he has kept his wife's pregnancy a secret all this time," Voldemort answered impatiently. "Besides, I don't want Dumbledore's side having access to the child's Sight; it's possible that Goewin could be having visions even now." Gwydion looked startled, and Voldemort smiled grimly. "Ah, you didn't know that, did you? It is very rare, but not unheard of. Since Goewin had the Sight herself once it makes her more receptive to the baby's visions, so long as the child is connected to her in the womb. Something must have alerted old Math to the significance of this child, after all."
"Can a child in the womb have visions?" a stunned Gwydion asked.
"If the Gift is strong enough," the Dark Lord replied. "Perhaps the child might even See that you are a traitor to your family, Gwydion. So you see how important it is that we not let that power fall into the enemy's hands."
"Yes, my Lord," Gwydion said in a shaky voice.
"As a family member, you can get closest to them without arousing suspicion. I want you to lead the kidnapping mission."
"But my uncle doesn't fully trust me," Gwydion protested. "And I've done some reconnaissance work; his estate is more heavily warded than ever! I don't think I can break through the wards alone--"
"You may take as many Death Eaters as you need," Voldemort snapped. "But you will find a way to do it, do you understand me, Gwydion? For a clever boy like you, that should not be a problem."
"Yes, Master," Gwydion said, dropping to his knees, knowing it would be suicidal to argue further. "Please give me a little time to come up with a plan. I...I want to do this properly; it must be carefully thought out if it is to succeed."
"Very well," the Dark Lord said reluctantly. "You have a week, no more."
After they returned home, Gwydion told his brother, "We have to get Math away from the estate; that's our only chance."
"He's not going to fall for the same trick twice, Gwydion," Gilbert protested, recalling how his brother had lured Math away from the estate over twenty years ago with a false report of a Death Eater attack.
"No," Gwydion said with a frown. "And he's not likely to trust the likes of me...unless..." He thought for a moment. "One thing might lure him out--if Mother or Dylan were seriously ill or injured..."
"Dylan is a Death Eater," Gilbert said nervously. "The Dark Lord will never let us harm him. Besides, how would we get into Hogwarts?"
"Then it must be Mother," Gwydion said slowly.
"Gwydion!" Gilbert cried in horror. "You're not seriously thinking of harming Mother?!"
"The Dark Lord will kill us if we don't do this, Gil," Gwydion said grimly. "And Mother would kill us if she found out we've joined the Death Eaters. Besides, it's not like we're going to kill her...we'll make sure that she's badly injured, but survives. Yes, I think that is the only way...the feud will even work in our favor; Math will rush to his sister's bedside. He won't want her to die with bad blood still lying between them. We might even be able to get our dear little sister to leave the house, too, and then Goewin would be all alone and unprotected."
"Gwydion," Gilbert whispered, with horror in his eyes.
"This is the only way, little brother," Gwydion said solemnly. "Trust me." Gilbert stared back at him helplessly; he knew in his heart that they were doing a very evil thing, but what else could they do...?
***
The Death Eaters began making small hit-and-run attacks--all part of Gwydion's plot to make his mother's "accident" more plausible. A clinic that distributed Wolfsbane Potion was burned down; a Muggle-born wizard's shop was broken into and trashed; a wizard who had taken a Muggle-born wife was murdered on his way home from work. Graffiti written in blood-red paint began appearing around town: "DEATH TO BLOOD TRAITORS" and "STAND WITH US OR AGAINST US--ALL TRAITORS WILL DIE!" Finally, an attack was made on a small coffee shop popular with the wealthiest pureblood women, one Deirdre Donner frequented regularly...
A house-elf ran into the living room shouting, "Master Donner! Master Donner, the mirror in your study is blinking!"
The mirror in Math's study was not the one he used to communicate with the Order, but rather his normal method of communicating with friends, colleagues, and--before they had become estranged--family. The old wizard was surprised, but not overly concerned until he activated the mirror and saw his nephew's face. "Gwydion! What's wrong?"
Gwydion's face was streaked with tears and his eyes were red. "It's Mother," he gasped. "She's badly hurt--a Death Eater attack. The healers...they...they don't think she's going to make it. She's asking for you and Ariane..."
"If this is some kind of trick, Gwydion--" Math said suspiciously.
"My mother's dying!" Gwydion shouted, and his anger and grief seemed to be genuine. "Call St. Mungo's if you like; I don't have time to play games with you! I just called to relay my mother's dying wish; you may do as you please!" Then he broke off contact and the mirror went blank.
Math wasted no time contacting St. Mungo's; a frazzled-looking receptionist confirmed that there had been some kind of attack, and there were several badly injured patients, including Deirdre Donner, registered at the hospital. When she realized whom she was talking to, a slightly more sympathetic expression crossed her face. "I think you should hurry, Mr. Donner," she said softly. "The healers are doing everything they can but, well..."
Math broke off contact and looked up to see his wife and niece standing behind him. "I checked the Wizard Wireless Network, Uncle," Ariane said quietly. "There really was an attack on that coffee shop Mother goes to every afternoon..."
"You must go, Math," Goewin urged. "You can't let Deirdre die without making peace with her!"
"This could still be a trick," Math protested, looking torn.
"Gwydion would never do anything to hurt Mother," Ariane said, but she didn't look quite convinced of that.
"He might not have anything to do with the attack himself, but we can't take the chance that the Dark Lord might manipulating both him and us--"
"Go, Math!" Goewin urged. "I'll call the Order and have them send someone to stay with me."
"I'll go see Deirdre as soon as our backup arrives," Math said.
"I'll stay with Goewin until they come," Ariane promised. "And then I'll go see Mother, too."
Math hesitated. "Well..."
"Go!" Goewin said. "Before it's too late! Ariane is a formidable mage; we'll be fine, and someone from the Order will be here shortly."
"All right," Math reluctantly agreed. "But call them right away!"
"Yes, dear," Goewin said.
"Please...if I don't come in time...tell Mother I love her," Ariane whispered.
"I will, dear," Math said gently, and Disapparated.
Goewin used her mirror to contact Dumbledore, who looked concerned and promised to send help right away. "You should not have let Math leave," he scolded.
"His sister is dying, Albus!" Goewin said indignantly.
"It would not help anything if harm befell you as well, Goewin," Dumbledore said firmly. "I'll send Branwen and Remus over shortly; they should just be finishing up with their classes."
But in the time it took to call Dumbledore, and for him to summon the two Order members to his office, the Death Eaters struck.
Gwydion had brought Gilbert and several other Death Eaters with him: Malfoy, Avery, Nott, and the Lestranges. They battered the wards with the strongest Dark Spells they possessed, having no need for subtlety; this was to be a quick snatch-and-run operation, and it didn't matter if they set off alarms or attracted attention. Goewin had just cut off contact with Dumbledore when the Death Eaters burst into the house, shattering the windows and blowing the front door off its hinges.
Ariane cursed and pulled out her wand, quickly throwing up shield spells and wards of protection around herself and Goewin.
"Hello, Sister," Gwydion said with a smile.
"You traitor!" Ariane screamed.
"Look who's talking," Lucius Malfoy said coolly. "You are supposed to be on our side, Ariane."
Ariane ignored him. "You!" she snarled at Gwydion. "After the way you turned on me, you went and sold your soul to the Death Eaters! You killed our mother to help them take Goewin!"
Gwydion went a little pale. "They weren't supposed to hurt her so badly," he said defensively. "I told them to be careful..."
"Enough with the family reunion," Bellatrix interrupted. "Hand over Goewin, Ariane, and we'll spare your life."
"No!"
"If you won't do it for your own sake," Lucius said smoothly, "do it for Dylan's."
Ariane went pale, but held her ground. "Dylan is safe at Hogwarts."
"I can get to him at any time," Lucius taunted.
"If you touch my son, I'll kill you!"
"You'll have to survive first!" Lucius retorted, and the Death Eaters began attacking her shields. She was a good mage, and Goewin helped to reinforce the shielding spells, but the two of them could not hold out against the strength of eight combined wizards. The shields fell, and Ariane went on the offensive, while Goewin, who was not trained in combative magics, did her best to protect herself.
"Crucio!" Ariane shouted, and Avery fell to the floor, writhing and screaming.
"I see you remember your lessons!" Lucius shouted, hurling a curse of his own at her. "What made you switch sides, Ariane?" She lunged to one side, but it grazed her, opening a bloody gash on her arm and staining her white robes red. She didn't flinch, but immediately shot back another spell at him. A dagger-shaped beam of red light hit him in the shoulder, knocking him to the ground. He clutched at the wound, screaming in pain. "You bitch!"
Then Ariane was hit simultaneously by two spells cast by Gwydion and Rodolphus Lestrange, and fell to the floor, unconscious. "Let's finish her off," Bellatrix said with a grin.
"NO!" shouted Gilbert, and the other mages turned to stare at him.
"A Death Eater cannot be soft, Gilbert," Lucius said quietly.
"I--I don't care about Ariane!" Gilbert said, thinking quickly. As low as he had sunk, he could not stoop to killing his little sister. "Leave her here to take the blame--she was once a Death Eater, maybe Math will think she was behind the attack!"
"Good thinking, little brother!" Gwydion said, clapping him on the shoulder, and Gilbert felt sick to his stomach.
By now, Nott and Rabastan Lestrange had managed to disarm and bind Goewin. They prepared to depart as Branwen and Lupin rushed into the room. Lucius went pale when he saw his old Professor; he had no desire to take on the woman who had slain three Death Eaters single-handedly, and abruptly Disapparated. The other wizards followed suit as the two Order members hurled spells at them; they heard a cry of pain, indicating they had hit someone, but it was too late. The Death Eaters all vanished, along with Goewin.
Math appeared a moment later. Overwhelmed by the sight of his sister lying in a hospital bed near death, it had taken him a few minutes to realize that his nephew, who had expressed such concern about his dying mother, was nowhere in sight. He surveyed the wreckage of the room, the unconscious body of his niece, and the stricken faces of his two fellow Order members. "Oh no," he whispered.
***
The Death Eaters took Goewin to Voldemort's hideout. They did not harm her, but locked a Squib Collar around her neck so she could not use her magic. But then Voldemort ordered them to take it off after he realized it was interfering with the visions. It did not make much difference; she was helpless without her wand, which had been left behind at the mansion, and she had no talent for the combative magics, anyway.
"My husband will find me," she said defiantly, trying to show none of the fear she felt.
"Perhaps," Voldemort said, unconcerned. "But not in time. The child has been sending you dreams, has she not?" Goewin tried not to react, but she must have flinched, because he smiled and nodded. "Yes, I thought so. You will prophesy for me, dear, and tell me how I can win the war."
"Never!"
Voldemort laughed. "Ah, such spirit! Quite admirable, but you will have no choice, my dear."
She was taken to a small room and tied to the bed within it. Goewin could not prevent a flash of fear from showing in her eyes, and Voldemort laughed again. "Do not worry, my dear. None of my Death Eaters will lay a hand upon you, on my orders. I want you alive and well for now." Then he set up a brazier in the middle of the room, burning rare herbs and incense, and she knew what he intended to do.
"No drugs," she pleaded, forgetting her pride and defiance. "They might hurt the baby...please..."
"Ah, love is such a weakness," Voldemort observed, sounding amused. "It makes a proud woman beg, makes a protective husband leave his wife's side...it makes fools of you, my dear. But do not worry; the herbs would be dangerous if ingested, but the smoke should not harm the baby, which is why I am burning them rather than forcing you to take a potion. I would not want you to have a miscarriage, after all. At least, not until I find out what I need to know."
Goewin fought to remain awake and alert, but drug-laden smoke soon put her into trance. She forgot who and where she was, and became lost in the visions...
Voldemort forced himself to wait patiently; this process could not be rushed. That was why he had not bothered to use his Legilimency on her; attacking her mind might destroy it, and her mind needed to be intact in order to receive the visions. Besides, she had not left her husband's estate for over six months, and Dumbledore would not use a pregnant woman as an agent in the war, particularly one with no skill in combative magic; she probably knew little that was useful apart from the visions, anyway.
"Blood...blood everywhere..." Goewin muttered deliriously. "Dylan...ah, no, please don't let him die..."
She rambled incoherently, mostly about blood and battles and snakes and skulls; nothing the Dark Lord didn't already know. He still needed to keep her and the unborn child healthy, so at regular intervals he let her rest and eat before putting her into trance again. She was too weak to fight him, and besides, he knew she wanted to keep her baby healthy. If she had not been pregnant, no doubt she would have fought, would perhaps have refused food in an effort to starve herself to death, but he knew that she would eat and cling to life for the child's sake, still hoping that a miracle would happen and someone would rescue her.
Finally, a few days after her capture, she said something that caught Voldemort's attention. "The lion and the serpent," she whispered. "Locked in an embrace...locked in combat...bound in love and bound in death..."
The lion and the serpent; that had to stand for himself and Harry Potter! "Tell me more," Voldemort hissed.
Goewin could not hear him in her trance, but she continued to speak of the visions she saw. "I see a lake...and a forest...it's the school...Hogwarts...Hogwarts is the key..."
"What?!" Voldemort shouted.
Goewin babbled on, paying him no heed, "Hogwarts is the keystone of the wizarding world; remove it and everything else will fall. The final battle will take place on the school grounds..."
"Yes!" Voldemort hissed triumphantly. This was what he wanted to hear!
"I see the children on the battlefield," Goewin whispered. "Dylan...Draco...the other Slytherin children...Harry Potter..."
Gwydion watched nervously from the doorway. Since he and his brother had been spotted by Blackmore and Lupin, their cover was now blown, and he was staying in the Dark Lord's hideout along with Wormtail and some of the other fugitives. He now had no choice but to fully commit to his Master's cause, if he ever wanted to be something other than an outcast and a criminal. "But Hogwarts is protected," he said.
Voldemort glared at the interruption, but then Goewin spoke, as if in response to Gwydion's comment. "The blood of an innocent will break the protections spun over Hogwarts..." Then her eyes went wide with terror and she began screaming.
Voldemort carelessly flicked his wand at her, casting a sleep spell, and the screaming ceased. "That's it!" he said. "We will make a blood sacrifice upon the school grounds, breaking the protections, breaking the seat of Dumbledore's power!"
"But how will we get into the school?" Gwydion wanted to know.
"Don't worry," Voldemort said with a satisfied smile. "I have a plan..."
"Who will we sacrifice?" Gilbert asked in a trembling voice.
"She said, 'the blood of an innocent,'" Voldemort mused, looking at Goewin. "And what could be more innocent than a baby? And if that is not sufficient, we will have a whole school filled with innocent children. Well, relatively innocent, anyway...I'm not sure that we can call Dylan and his friends 'innocent,' exactly..." The Dark Lord cackled and went off to set his plans in motion.
"Gwydion," Gilbert whispered urgently. "Kidnapping her was one thing--but to let him kill her? And her baby?"
"That baby would take our inheritance!" Gwydion whispered back fiercely. "And besides, it's her or us! What do you care, anyway--she's the reason we were turned into beasts! She's the reason you lost your mind--and don't forget that you would still be a half-wit if not for me!" Gilbert watched his brother stalk off, and wished that Gwydion had left him a half-wit. His brother was now a Death Eater in spirit as well as name, and Gilbert could see no way out of this mess of their own making.
***
The Order kept Goewin's kidnapping quiet; they didn't want to alarm the public--which was already in a panic over the attack that had wounded Deirdre and killed several people--but most of all, they didn't want Dylan to know what had happened. Snape didn't think that the boy would be able to keep up his loyal facade in front of the Death Eaters if he knew the truth.
"We'll have to tell him eventually," Lupin pointed out.
"Not yet," Snape insisted, and Ariane agreed. "The Dark Lord clearly wants to keep this a secret from him, or he would have used Dylan instead of Gwydion to get to Goewin. He still needs Dylan's willing cooperation to make use of the roses."
"Maybe we can get Goewin back before it becomes necessary to tell him," Ariane said hopefully, though they all knew that wasn't very likely.
Keeping it a secret meant that they could not yet expose Gwydion's treachery, but apparently he wasn't taking any chances. He disappeared without word, alarming his supervisors and coworkers at the Ministry. Gilbert had vanished as well; although apart from the Order, only Deirdre's house-elf servants were aware of it at present. They were very worried about "young Master Gilbert, who is not quite right in the head, you know." Math assured them that they were doing everything they could to find the brothers, and ordered them to keep quiet about it. And, lacking instructions from any other member of the family, they readily obeyed.
But Dumbledore decided that there was one person who needed to be told. Against all odds, Deirdre Donner lived, making a miraculous recovery--thanks in part to the skill of the healers at St. Mungo's, a sizable portion of good luck, and her own stubborn, tenacious nature which would not allow death to take her so easily. She left her bed as soon as she was able, about a week after the attack, against the doctors' orders, and demanded to know where her sons were. On Dumbledore's instructions, Math brought her to Hogwarts.
"Mother!" Ariane said. "Thank Merlin you're all right!"
Deirdre slapped away her daughter's outstretched hands, ignoring the hurt look on Ariane's face and the reproachful glare Branwen Blackmore gave her.
"Where are my sons?" Deirdre demanded of Dumbledore, who sat at his desk in his office, calmly gazing back at her.
"Your sons are traitors, Deirdre," Dumbledore said. "They have joined the Death Eaters."
"That's ridiculous!" Deirdre snapped. "If anyone is a Death Eater, it's Ariane!"
"Ariane made some terrible errors of judgment in the past, Sister," Math said, "but she has repented of her crimes. She has risked her life to help us fight Voldemort."
"You're a sentimental old fool if you believe that, Math!" Deirdre said. "And what about my sons? What possible motive could they have for joining the Death Eaters? Gilbert isn't even able to think for himself, anyway!"
"That is precisely the motive," Dumbledore said. Lupin stepped forward and placed a casket full of potion bottles on the Headmaster's desk, along with two hooded black robes. "We found these in Gwydion's rooms: Death Eater robes and Mind Restoration Potion. Gwydion joined the Death Eaters because Voldemort promised him a potion that would restore his brother's sanity. Though I fear Gilbert still isn't thinking for himself, and is mostly following his brother's lead, as he has done all his life."
"No," Deirdre whispered, staring at the bottles and robes in horror. "No, it's not true!" she said desperately. "Someone planted those things there to try and frame them!"
In a cold, implacable voice, Math said, "They arranged the attack on you, Deirdre, to lure me away from my home so they could kidnap my wife!"
"No!"
"I saw them, Mother," Ariane said, gazing at Deirdre, surprised to feel more pity than triumph. "They came accompanied by several Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy among them, and overpowered me and took Goewin."
"Why would they want Goewin?" Deirdre screamed hysterically. "And why should I believe you?!"
"You may believe us, Deirdre," Branwen said quietly. "Remus and I came to their aid, and witnessed the attack."
"You're the daughter of a Dark Wizard!" Deirdre protested, but they could see belief dawning in her eyes.
"As to why," Lupin said, "Goewin is pregnant, and her daughter has the Sight." That statement finally rendered Deirdre speechless. "One of our Seers foresaw that the child would be vital to the war efforts, and apparently Voldemort somehow became aware of that as well. That is why he used your sons to kidnap her."
Deirdre slowly sank to her knees on the floor, buried her face in her hands, and began to weep. Math knelt down beside her and put his arms around her. "How?" she sobbed. "How could he do such a thing, Math?"
"Gwydion did it for love of his brother," Math replied sadly. "He always loved Gilbert too much."
"It started out as a gesture of love for his brother," Branwen said, looking down at Deirdre with neither compassion nor contempt. "But Gwydion also loves power, and I fear Voldemort has used both loves to corrupt him beyond redemption. Gwydion was his spy in the Ministry, you know. He used his position to help break the Death Eaters out of Azkaban."
"And you didn't tell me?!" Deirdre shouted at her brother.
"Would you have believed me?" he asked softly.
"No," she replied, hanging her head. "I can scarcely believe it now." Then she looked up, and her eyes, though red from weeping, were cold and hard. "But they are my sons no longer, and they will pay for their crimes."
"You still have a daughter," Branwen reminded her.
Deirdre glared at her again, and gazed at her daughter suspiciously. "How can you be sure she is trustworthy?"
"She has willingly sworn her loyalty under Geas," Math replied. "The spell will destroy her if she tries to break her vows."
Deirdre stared at her daughter in shock and began laughing mirthlessly. "And in a moment, my world is turned topsy-turvy! My sons are Death Eaters, and my disowned daughter is working against her former Master!"
"She was never truly a Death Eater, Lady Deirdre," Lupin said gently.
"No, but I came close enough to it," Ariane admitted.
"What made you change your mind?" her mother asked.
"I did not want my son to die in the Dark Lord's service as his father did," Ariane replied quietly.
"Hmmph!" Deirdre snorted. "Well, you're mistaken if you think I'll ever accept that Slytherin brat into the family!"
"Deirdre!" Math shouted indignantly, but Ariane just shrugged indifferently.
Deirdre ignored them both. "Well, I will help you in any way I can, to make up for my sons' crimes," she told Dumbledore.
"Thank you, Deirdre," the Headmaster said solemnly. "You can start by keeping this information secret for now; there is still a chance the boys may return to you so long as they believe you do not know the truth."
"If they do so, you may be sure I will turn them in," she said grimly.
"For now," Dumbledore continued, "I think you can serve us best by getting some rest; you look like you're about to collapse. Math, why don't you take her to the hospital wing? She's clearly not up to traveling; she can rest here tonight."
With only a token protest, Deirdre followed her brother through the fireplace and into the hospital wing.
"I'm sorry, Ariane," Branwen said. "I hoped she would react differently when she found out the truth..."
Ariane shrugged again. "She's spent the past fifteen years hating me; she's not going to change overnight. She'll probably never forgive me; it's not just that I allied with the Death Eaters, but that I took a Slytherin as a lover and bore his child. Besides, it scares me to see her all weepy; when she's in her overbearing Lady Donner mode, at least I know she's feeling all right."
Lupin chuckled gently, and Branwen smiled and let the matter drop, although they both knew that Ariane had been hurt by her mother's rejection, and resumed their discussion with the Headmaster. It was vital that they find some way to rescue Goewin, not just for her sake, but to prevent Voldemort from winning the war. Math returned, along with Snape, and they continued their discussion long into the night...
***
"You want me to WHAT?!" Gwydion shrieked. "I'm a fugitive! I can't just waltz into the Ministry of Magic!"
"Actually, Gwydion, you're not," Lucius interrupted. "My sources tell me that the kidnapping was not made public, and no charges have been filed against you. Your coworkers believe you are the victim of foul play."
"How can that be?" a stunned Gwydion asked. "Why didn't they expose me?"
"Dumbledore must have his reasons," Lucius said with a shrug, "but it works to our advantage."
"Maybe it's a trap," Gwydion said suspiciously. "Maybe they'll arrest me as soon as I walk through the door."
"Then you will have to convince them that you are innocent," Voldemort said. "Tell them you were kidnapped by the Death Eaters and put under an Imperius Curse. Many of my Death Eaters did so and got away with it after the first war."
Those Death Eaters looked very nervous at that reminder, and Gwydion protested, "But that makes it less likely that they'll believe it the second time around!"
"That is an order, not a suggestion, Gwydion!" Voldemort snarled.
Gwydion bowed and glumly said, "Yes, my Lord."
***
Percy Weasley was working late at the Ministry of Magic, filling out some paperwork for his supervisor, Cornelius Fudge. He was very proud to be assistant to the Minister of Magic himself, and didn't mind the long hours. After all, the Minister was working around the clock to deal with the Death Eater attacks; he would do whatever he could, however small, to ease the Minister's burdens.
Hal Wilson, a young assistant to one of the under-Ministers, dropped another stack of papers on Percy's desk. "I'm calling it a night, Percy. You're staying late again, huh?"
"It's my duty to stay as long as the Minister does, in case he needs me," Percy said primly.
Hal just grinned, unoffended; he was impossibly good-natured, and reminded Percy uncomfortably of his brothers. "Say, I picked up something cool at your brothers' shop today," he said.
"Please don't remind me what a disgrace the twins are to the family name," Percy groaned.
"They're successful businessmen," Hal chided him. "That's nothing to be ashamed of! Anyway, they have these new fireworks." He held out a small red cardboard tube, about the size of a cigarette. "You don't even have to light them, just flick the top off to set them off. Like this--"
"Don't do that in here, you imbecile!" Percy shouted.
"Just kidding, Weasley," Hal laughed, dropping the tube on Percy's desk. "Anyhow, it's my kid brother's birthday this weekend, and I figured he'd love these."
"I'm sure he will," Percy said sourly.
Just then, Fudge walked in, looking weary and anxious. "What's going on here?" he asked.
Percy hastily scooped up the fireworks tube and dropped it in his pocket. "Nothing, sir. Wilson was just dropping off these papers. He was just on his way out."
"Goodnight, sir," Hal said, nodding at Fudge in a respectful manner.
"Goodnight," Fudge said absentmindedly as Hal left. "We need to draft up these new orders, to be sent to the press and posted around the city. We've decided to put a curfew into effect until the Death Eaters are caught."
"Yes, sir!" Percy said, picking up his quill. "A splendid idea, sir!"
Fudge smiled and patted Percy on the shoulder. "Well then, let's get to work, Weasley."
Meanwhile, the security guard in the Atrium gasped as Arthur Weasley and Gwydion Donner staggered into the hall. Gwydion's clothes were rumpled and dirty, with streaks of what looked like dried blood smeared on them, and there were prominent bruises on his face. He leaned heavily on Arthur for support.
"Mr. Donner!" the guard gasped. "Are you all right? Where have you been all this time?"
"We have no time to talk now!" Arthur snapped. "We must see the Minister of Magic right away! Gwydion has vital information about the Death Eaters!" Gwydion groaned, and looked like he was going to collapse.
"He looks like he needs medical attention," the guard said dubiously.
"No time for that," Gwydion protested bravely. "I'll be all right. Must get...this information to the Minister...before it's too late..."
"Go on up, sirs," the guard said. "I'll let Mr. Fudge know you're on your way."
"Gwydion! Arthur!" Fudge exclaimed as they burst into his office. "What's going on?"
"Dad!" said Percy.
Arthur Weasley regarded him with a look of surprise, as if he didn't recognize his own son, then he smiled, in a sleek and smug way that Percy had never seen before. "Ah, young Percy," he purred in a tone of voice that was totally out of character, and yet somehow familiar. "I hadn't expected you to be here, but you could come in quite useful."
"Dad?" Percy asked in confusion.
"Munch called up and said you had information about the Death Eaters," Fudge said anxiously.
"Yes, I do," Gwydion replied.
"What happened? Did they kidnap you?"
"No, Cornelius," Gwydion replied, taking out his wand, as did Arthur. "I am one of them."
"What?!" Fudge shouted. "If this is some sort of joke, Donner--"
"It's no joke, Minister. Imperio!"
Percy lunged for the door, screaming for help, before his "father" also hit him with an Imperius Curse.
Only one Auror--not Kingsley Shacklebolt, who might have been more careful, because Lucius and Gwydion had been careful to choose a night when he was not on the duty roster--had still been in the building this late at night. Although the guard had no reason to doubt Gwydion's loyalty, he had still alerted the Auror, figuring that the Aurors would be needed to deal with whatever Death Eater threat Gwydion and Arthur were about to report. He heard Percy's cry for help, and walked in with his wand raised, but he was not quick enough to fend off the attack.
"Avada Kedavra!" Arthur shouted, and the man dropped to the floor like a stone.
Percy suddenly knew why his father's voice had sounded strange and yet familiar at the same time. "You're Lucius Malfoy," he whispered.
"And you're not as dumb as you look, Percy," Lucius said, smiling at him maliciously with his father's face. "I order you not to speak without my permission." And Percy found himself unable to speak further.
Meanwhile, Gwydion hid the Auror's body in the closet. No one would find it until it was too late.
Gwydion whispered his instructions into the Minister's ear, and they left the office.
"Mr. Fudge!" the guard exclaimed as they exited the elevator and emerged in the Atrium.
Fudge said stiffly, "Don't speak a word of this to anyone, Eric. Top-secret business. The safety of the wizarding world depends upon it."
"Yes, sir!" the guard said. "You can count on me, sir!"
Lucius laughed after they left the building, "How helpful that the Ministry seems to be staffed by idiots!" Then he grinned at Percy and said, "Come along now, son. We're paying a visit to your old alma mater."
***
While Gwydion and Lucius were on their mission, the Dark Lord was making his own preparations. His magical research had finally paid off; first he quaffed a mixture made from human blood and the crushed petals of Dylan's roses. Next, he picked up a dagger that had been soaked in the same mixture while many powerful enchantments were laid upon it. The steel blade now had a metallic red sheen to it. He slipped it into a sheath on his belt, which also held a second dagger, the one with the serpent-shaped hilt, which was not enchanted. Finally, he picked up a flask containing some of Dylan's blood and went to the room that held the vampiric roses. He opened the flask, took out his wand, and cast a spell that had taken him months to develop. The wand pulled the blood out of the flask, spinning it into a length of red thread, and then wove the thread into a confining net around around the potted rose bush. The roses quivered a little, then went still. Voldemort still had not found a way to command the roses, but at least now he could transport them--the "net" made of Dylan's blood would keep them quiescent--and once the net was removed he wouldn't really need to control them. Voldemort just had to make sure that he and his Death Eaters remained out of range, and the roses would happily attack anyone that ventured within reach of their vines.
He ordered Wormtail to carry the magically-bound roses, which he did with great reluctance, whimpering with fear the entire time. His other Death Eaters came at his call, carrying a bound and gagged Goewin, and they all Disapparated.
Part 33
***
Afterword: Corrected a minor mistake from the original version, where I referred to the "doctors" at St. Mungos when they should be called "healers." I think it was when I was re-reading OotP, I noticed Molly making disparaging remarks about doctors, so it was clearly solely a Muggle term.
Voldemort was feeling stronger now, sustained by blood and magic, but it was still only a temporary measure. He could not return to full strength and power until he had slain the Potter child--but how? Killing a half-trained wizard ought to be child's play, but the boy had escaped certain death time and time again. Voldemort needed an edge, some advantage against the boy...but what? Finally Voldemort decided to brew a Prophecy Potion in an attempt to see the future and how he might prevail over Potter. Snape was the best potion-brewer among all his Death Eaters, better even than the Dark Lord himself, so he should have entrusted this task to his servant, particularly since the potion was a complicated one that called for ingredients that were poisonous in the wrong dosage. But Voldemort did not quite trust Snape, although he wasn't sure why. He couldn't quite put his finger on it; he had never detected a lie in Severus, never picked up anything from him but the appropriate amount of fear and reverence. Voldemort suspected that Snape served more out of fear than reverence, but that didn't matter to him as long as his servant remained loyal; fear was better than reverence at inspiring obedience, anyway. There was also the fact that Snape had worked for Dumbledore for the past fifteen years, of course, but Voldemort had been dead (or so everyone had believed), and Severus, like Lucius, was a prudent man who would be quick to cast his lot with the winning side. Now that Voldemort had returned alive and embodied, he was reasonably sure that Severus feared him more than Dumbledore.
But...Severus did not like to kill. He never flinched at the sight of death, but neither did he take pleasure in it as the Lestranges did. Voldemort suspected that Snape had a secret streak of honor, much as Rosier and Wilkes had. That was useful, because that sense of honor had kept Rosier and Wilkes loyal unto death, but it was also a weakness. Lucius Malfoy had no such weakness, and although it made him more dangerous, Voldemort respected him for it--at least as much as he ever respected any of his minions. But Severus had watched carefully over Evan Rosier's son, and Voldemort suspected there was a little more to it than simply grooming a future Death Eater or even nurturing a promising Potions apprentice. One could not say that Snape had been close friends with Evan Rosier and Lyall Wilkes, but they were the closest thing to friends that he had seemed to have in the old days. Voldemort thought it might be loyalty to his old friend's memory that made him watch over Dylan so closely; very touching, but it was a weakness, and Voldemort did not like weaknesses, and love was the worst weakness of all. Love made people do foolish things: a young heiress renounce her family and fortune for a Death Eater lover, a mother sacrifice her life to save her child. Voldemort was not sure that Severus's feelings for Dylan were strong enough to be called "love," but he took too much of an interest in the boy's safety, and to a lesser extent, the safety of his other students, for Voldemort's comfort. He still remembered how quickly Snape had reached for his wand when the roses had attacked Dylan. What might one do to protect a child one loved? Betray one's master, possibly...? Voldemort did not really think that Severus would be that foolish, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Besides, resorting to the Prophecy Potion might make him seem desperate, and the Dark Lord knew better than to appear weak before his followers.
So Voldemort locked himself up in his private chambers, telling his cringing servant Wormtail that he was not to be disturbed under any circumstances, and began brewing the potion. He very carefully measured out the proper amounts of hellebore, belladonna, and henbane into boiling water; all three herbs were poisonous, and could prove fatal if the dosage was off by even a fraction of an ounce. Not that Voldemort could truly die, but losing this body, as fragile and unsatisfactory as it was, would be a major inconvenience. Once the potion was properly brewed, steeped, and strained off, he poured it into a goblet and drank the bitter, foul-smelling mixture.
The room seemed to be spinning around him, and the goblet fell to the floor with a loud clatter. The Dark Lord joined the goblet a moment later, writhing in violent convulsions and foaming at the mouth. The last rational thought he had before the effects of the potion overwhelmed him was, {Perhaps I should have let Severus brew it, after all...}
In his thrashings, Voldemort knocked over some of the furnishings in his room, although he was not aware of it at the time. Outside the door, Wormtail trembled as he listened to the sound of loud crashes and his Master howling in pain or anger. He wondered if the Dark Lord was working some sort of magic that had gone horribly wrong. But the Master had said not to disturb him "under any circumstances," and Wormtail was not foolish enough to disobey and risk his wrath. He quietly crept away, looking for a dark corner to hide in, thinking that it would probably be prudent not to be around when the Dark Lord finally emerged from his chambers...
Meanwhile, Voldemort was lost in a series of visions that blurred and slipped away before he could grasp hold of them: Professor Dumbledore, as he had been over fifty years ago, regarding a young Tom Riddle with suspicion; James Potter raising his wand defiantly; Lily Potter, clutching her baby to her chest, pleading with him for mercy; Evan Rosier embracing his Ravenclaw lover; a beautiful young woman with red hair, who looked much like Lily Potter...
"No!" snarled Voldemort. "This is the past! I want to see the future--show me how I can defeat Potter!"
Everything went red and hazy, and he realized he was seeing through a filter of blood; it was everywhere, soaking his robes, dripping from his hands, spilling over his face and into his eyes. He wiped at his eyes impatiently, although he knew this was a vision and not reality; he looked out upon a battlefield strewn with the corpses of both allies and enemies, but he did not see the one body he wished to see...
"Potter!" he shouted. "Show me how to defeat Potter!"
Another series of visions, more chaotic than the last: a flock of crows; a pack of snarling wolves; tangled vines bearing sharp thorns and red roses; a serpent entwined around the body of a lion, who seemed to be trying to claw at the serpent...
"Yes!" hissed Voldemort. "Show me more!"
The vision blurred and coalesced into a single, clear image: a newborn baby girl with dark hair. The baby slowly opened her eyes--eyes that were solemn and wise, not the eyes of a mewling infant, eyes that were an odd but familiar shade of silver-gray...
He knew somehow that this child was vital to winning or losing the war, and strained to see more, but even as he tried to cling to consciousness, the vision slipped away and everything went black...
Voldemort awoke several hours later on the floor of his chambers, stiff and sore, and weak as a day old kitten, with a vile taste in his mouth, but inside he was filled with a sense of triumph. He crawled over to a wooden chest at the foot of his bed, which being made of heavy, sturdy oak, had fortunately not been knocked over during his seizure. He opened it and pulled several bottles from it with trembling hands, and downed in quick succession a bottle of Elixir of Vitality, two bottles of Strengthening Solution, and a flask of unicorn blood. Ironically, even as the Strengthening Solution replenished his energy, it served to weaken his body in the long run, but Voldemort didn't care. All he had to do was survive long enough to defeat Harry Potter, and then all the power in the world would be his.
Restored to something approaching normal strength, Voldemort pondered the vision. The child was a Donner, no doubt about it; those silver-gray eyes were unmistakable. But whose child? He considered the possibilities logically; blonde hair and gray eyes ran in the Donner family; the child had gray eyes but black hair--like Dylan. But it was unlikely, though not impossible, that Dylan could have fathered a child at Hogwarts. Unless this was a vision of the far future, after Dylan had married or taken a lover? No, Voldemort sensed that the vision he had seen would come to pass very soon. The baby was not Dylan's, then. No woman would touch Gilbert, since he was still believed to be a half-wit, and Voldemort knew that Gwydion had no lover at present; he kept close tabs on his reluctant servants, particularly since Gwydion had started getting friendly with that Auror, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Ariane had remained faithful to the memory of her long-dead lover, and in any case was kept locked up on her uncle's estate where she was unlikely to meet many suitors. Which left only the two elder members of the Donner clan: Deirdre and Mathias. Deirdre had been widowed for many years, so it was unlikely that the baby in the vision was hers, but Mathias had a young and comely wife...a wife with black hair.
A sense of exultation filled the Dark Lord: that was it! The child was the daughter of Mathias and Goewin, and now he thought he knew why it was so vital to the war: Goewin had once had the Sight, and such powers also ran in the Donner line, so it was likely that the Gift of Sight would be twice as powerful in the daughter, the combined heritage of both parents. With such a strong Seer, he could predict any move Dumbledore would make, could discover how to defeat Potter without resorting to the dangerous Prophecy Potion.
He flung open the door of his room and shouted for Wormtail. It was time to summon his Death Eaters, two in particular--Gilbert and Gwydion Donner. But there were two that he would not summon: Severus and Dylan. Of course, Dylan could much more easily find out if Goewin was pregnant, and if necessary, lure her into a trap, than his uncles could, but Dylan might balk at such a task. Dylan was a flawed vessel, one like his father, weakened by love. He loved his mother, and he appeared to love his great-aunt; he might be stupid enough to rebel if Voldemort tried to harm one of his loved ones. Of course, he could kidnap Ariane again, and use her to force Dylan to do his bidding; that would be amusing, to force Dylan to choose between two people he loved--but Voldemort preferred to keep Dylan blindly loyal and obedient for now, especially since he still needed the boy to control the roses. No, he would let the Donner brothers try their hand at it first, and keep the boy in reserve. And since Severus could not be trusted where Dylan was concerned, he too must be kept in the dark for now.
When Gwydion and Gilbert were standing before him, Voldemort asked, "Have you been in contact with your uncle of late?"
"No," Gwydion said sullenly, "he forbade me to step foot on his estate the summer before last, after we quarreled about Dylan. He chose that bastard brat over his own flesh and blood--"
"I don't care about your little family squabbles, Gwydion," Voldemort interrupted in a dangerous voice, and Gwydion fell silent. "I want you to find out--without drawing undue attention to yourself--if your aunt is pregnant."
"WHAT?!" screeched Gwydion.
"I have used my magic to seek visions of the future," Voldemort said calmly, not revealing the toll those visions had taken on his body, "and I believe that your aunt will give birth to a child with the Sight, one that could help sway the outcome of the war in our favor."
"B-but Uncle Math is OLD," Gilbert blurted out without thinking.
Voldemort gave him a patronizing look. "Dear me, I must have a talk with Severus," he said. "It seems that the potion is not working properly, because you still seem to be a half-wit." Gilbert flushed. "Age means little to our kind, Gilbert; you should know that. After all, Dumbledore is more than twice as old as your uncle, and he's still quite spry."
"Yes, but Dumbledore isn't running around fathering babies," Gwydion said caustically.
"Yes, well, Dumbledore doesn't have a pretty young thing to warm his bed like your uncle does," Voldemort retorted. "At any rate, I want you to find out if she really is pregnant or not. Make a show of reconciliation with your uncle if you must." Gwydion scowled, though he did not dare openly object, and Voldemort added, "It is to your benefit to discover the truth, because the child in my vision was a girl, and you know what that means." Gwydion went pale, and Voldemort smiled in a rather nasty way. "By the laws of inheritance, that child would become the heir instead of you, since the Donner title is passed through the female line. Your mother was able to disinherit Ariane because she associated with the Death Eaters even if she was not actually convicted of being one herself. But she has no such power over Mathias, who is a well-respected member of society, and I think he would fight her in court if she tried to rob his daughter of her birthright. Especially since it means he could still leave his own estate to his dear great-nephew, Dylan..."
Gwydion was now red and fuming with anger. "And if my aunt is pregnant, what do you intend to do with her and the child?"
Voldemort smiled. "Be assured, that no matter what I decide, the child will be no longer be a threat to you."
Gwydion smiled grimly and bowed. "I will eagerly do your bidding, then, Master."
***
But that was easier said than done. His mother still wanted nothing to do with her brother, and he could not enlist her help without making her suspicious. He took the risk of sending a conciliatory letter to his uncle, not quite apologizing (because that would be out of character), but saying that he wished to let bygones be bygones. He suggested that they get together for dinner; Math neatly sidestepped his efforts to visit the estate by offering to treat him to dinner at a restaurant in London. They made polite small talk; Math complimented Gwydion on gaining his position at the Ministry, and Gwydion casually asked how Goewin was doing.
"She's fine," Math said with a smile.
"She did not wish to accompany you tonight, Uncle?"
"You and she are not the best of friends, Gwydion," Math said with a gentle smile. "I think she felt dinner would go more smoothly if she were not here."
Gwydion was annoyed, but it was a plausible enough excuse; surely Math didn't suspect anything...did he? Pressing the issue would certainly raise suspicions even if there had been none before, so all he said was, "Well, that is true enough, Uncle. But I do not wish to be at odds with you even though I do not approve of her choice of heir. We are family, after all."
"It gladdens my heart to hear you say that, Nephew. I hope someday you can view Dylan as family, too; it is not his fault that his parents made foolish choices in their youth."
Gwydion gritted his teeth, thinking, {If only you knew that your precious great-nephew is a Death Eater like his parents!}
"But I do not wish to fight with you tonight," Math continued. "So let us agree to disagree for now."
"Agreed," Gwydion said, attempting to smile pleasantly. {Well, that was a complete waste of time.} He was sure that with time he could win Math's trust, but that could take weeks, and he didn't think that the Dark Lord was willing to wait that long.
So he began making subtle inquiries, which was easy enough since the people in his mother's social circle loved to gossip about their peers. They were doubly eager to gossip about a family feud--as long as Deirdre was not around to hear it. And they thought it was touching that Gwydion was still concerned about his uncle despite the rift between his mother and her brother. He also made contact with some old acquaintances in Wales; he had spent a great deal of time there as a boy, before the falling out with his uncle over Goewin's rape, and he still had friends who lived there.
Slowly he pieced together the scraps of information he received from his various sources: no one had seen Goewin in public since November, during the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match at Hogwarts. Mathias and his wife tended to keep to themselves, but did venture into the local village or into London on errands from time to time, but no one had seen Goewin in months, which was rather odd. The concerned villagers inquired after Goewin when Math came into town, but he merely smiled and said that she was busy with some research, or that she was feeling a bit under the weather but that it was nothing serious. Finally, Gwydion found the confirmation he was looking for. Math had brewed some healing potions for the local clinic when one of the village children fell seriously ill--the sort of generosity that had made him very well-liked among the villagers--and the child's mother had gone up to the mansion with a home-baked pie as a thank-you gift. Math accepted the gift with appreciation, but did not invite her in for a cup of tea as he normally would have done. As the woman was leaving, she happened to glance up and catch a glimpse of a woman--merely a silhouette outlined behind the curtains as the sunlight fell through the window. The silhouette showed a very rounded figure, and gossip spread very slowly and quietly through the village, that Master Donner's wife might be with child. No doubt they were very anxious about the pregnancy, since twenty years had passed with no sign of a child up until now. Perhaps the pregnancy was a difficult one, if Goewin needed to be confined to the mansion for bed rest for so long; they probably didn't want to make the news public until they were sure that she would be able to carry the child to term. The villagers were fond of the Donners, so they kept their silence and waited anxiously for the announcement of a birth. But one young man, who had been Gwydion's playmate as a child, saw no harm in passing on the rumor to Math's nephew. The feud between Mathias Donner and his sister was a sad thing, after all, and the birth of a child might be just the catalyst needed to set a family reunion into motion.
Gwydion triumphantly reported the news to his Master, who seemed very pleased. "Good work, Gwydion," Voldemort said. "If she was pregnant in November, when she was last seen in public, she must be coming due soon--probably within the next month or two. We should capture her now."
"Now?" asked a startled Gwydion. "Why not wait till the baby's born?"
"Math will only set up stronger protections around the child once it is born, if he suspects its importance, and he must, if he has kept his wife's pregnancy a secret all this time," Voldemort answered impatiently. "Besides, I don't want Dumbledore's side having access to the child's Sight; it's possible that Goewin could be having visions even now." Gwydion looked startled, and Voldemort smiled grimly. "Ah, you didn't know that, did you? It is very rare, but not unheard of. Since Goewin had the Sight herself once it makes her more receptive to the baby's visions, so long as the child is connected to her in the womb. Something must have alerted old Math to the significance of this child, after all."
"Can a child in the womb have visions?" a stunned Gwydion asked.
"If the Gift is strong enough," the Dark Lord replied. "Perhaps the child might even See that you are a traitor to your family, Gwydion. So you see how important it is that we not let that power fall into the enemy's hands."
"Yes, my Lord," Gwydion said in a shaky voice.
"As a family member, you can get closest to them without arousing suspicion. I want you to lead the kidnapping mission."
"But my uncle doesn't fully trust me," Gwydion protested. "And I've done some reconnaissance work; his estate is more heavily warded than ever! I don't think I can break through the wards alone--"
"You may take as many Death Eaters as you need," Voldemort snapped. "But you will find a way to do it, do you understand me, Gwydion? For a clever boy like you, that should not be a problem."
"Yes, Master," Gwydion said, dropping to his knees, knowing it would be suicidal to argue further. "Please give me a little time to come up with a plan. I...I want to do this properly; it must be carefully thought out if it is to succeed."
"Very well," the Dark Lord said reluctantly. "You have a week, no more."
After they returned home, Gwydion told his brother, "We have to get Math away from the estate; that's our only chance."
"He's not going to fall for the same trick twice, Gwydion," Gilbert protested, recalling how his brother had lured Math away from the estate over twenty years ago with a false report of a Death Eater attack.
"No," Gwydion said with a frown. "And he's not likely to trust the likes of me...unless..." He thought for a moment. "One thing might lure him out--if Mother or Dylan were seriously ill or injured..."
"Dylan is a Death Eater," Gilbert said nervously. "The Dark Lord will never let us harm him. Besides, how would we get into Hogwarts?"
"Then it must be Mother," Gwydion said slowly.
"Gwydion!" Gilbert cried in horror. "You're not seriously thinking of harming Mother?!"
"The Dark Lord will kill us if we don't do this, Gil," Gwydion said grimly. "And Mother would kill us if she found out we've joined the Death Eaters. Besides, it's not like we're going to kill her...we'll make sure that she's badly injured, but survives. Yes, I think that is the only way...the feud will even work in our favor; Math will rush to his sister's bedside. He won't want her to die with bad blood still lying between them. We might even be able to get our dear little sister to leave the house, too, and then Goewin would be all alone and unprotected."
"Gwydion," Gilbert whispered, with horror in his eyes.
"This is the only way, little brother," Gwydion said solemnly. "Trust me." Gilbert stared back at him helplessly; he knew in his heart that they were doing a very evil thing, but what else could they do...?
***
The Death Eaters began making small hit-and-run attacks--all part of Gwydion's plot to make his mother's "accident" more plausible. A clinic that distributed Wolfsbane Potion was burned down; a Muggle-born wizard's shop was broken into and trashed; a wizard who had taken a Muggle-born wife was murdered on his way home from work. Graffiti written in blood-red paint began appearing around town: "DEATH TO BLOOD TRAITORS" and "STAND WITH US OR AGAINST US--ALL TRAITORS WILL DIE!" Finally, an attack was made on a small coffee shop popular with the wealthiest pureblood women, one Deirdre Donner frequented regularly...
A house-elf ran into the living room shouting, "Master Donner! Master Donner, the mirror in your study is blinking!"
The mirror in Math's study was not the one he used to communicate with the Order, but rather his normal method of communicating with friends, colleagues, and--before they had become estranged--family. The old wizard was surprised, but not overly concerned until he activated the mirror and saw his nephew's face. "Gwydion! What's wrong?"
Gwydion's face was streaked with tears and his eyes were red. "It's Mother," he gasped. "She's badly hurt--a Death Eater attack. The healers...they...they don't think she's going to make it. She's asking for you and Ariane..."
"If this is some kind of trick, Gwydion--" Math said suspiciously.
"My mother's dying!" Gwydion shouted, and his anger and grief seemed to be genuine. "Call St. Mungo's if you like; I don't have time to play games with you! I just called to relay my mother's dying wish; you may do as you please!" Then he broke off contact and the mirror went blank.
Math wasted no time contacting St. Mungo's; a frazzled-looking receptionist confirmed that there had been some kind of attack, and there were several badly injured patients, including Deirdre Donner, registered at the hospital. When she realized whom she was talking to, a slightly more sympathetic expression crossed her face. "I think you should hurry, Mr. Donner," she said softly. "The healers are doing everything they can but, well..."
Math broke off contact and looked up to see his wife and niece standing behind him. "I checked the Wizard Wireless Network, Uncle," Ariane said quietly. "There really was an attack on that coffee shop Mother goes to every afternoon..."
"You must go, Math," Goewin urged. "You can't let Deirdre die without making peace with her!"
"This could still be a trick," Math protested, looking torn.
"Gwydion would never do anything to hurt Mother," Ariane said, but she didn't look quite convinced of that.
"He might not have anything to do with the attack himself, but we can't take the chance that the Dark Lord might manipulating both him and us--"
"Go, Math!" Goewin urged. "I'll call the Order and have them send someone to stay with me."
"I'll go see Deirdre as soon as our backup arrives," Math said.
"I'll stay with Goewin until they come," Ariane promised. "And then I'll go see Mother, too."
Math hesitated. "Well..."
"Go!" Goewin said. "Before it's too late! Ariane is a formidable mage; we'll be fine, and someone from the Order will be here shortly."
"All right," Math reluctantly agreed. "But call them right away!"
"Yes, dear," Goewin said.
"Please...if I don't come in time...tell Mother I love her," Ariane whispered.
"I will, dear," Math said gently, and Disapparated.
Goewin used her mirror to contact Dumbledore, who looked concerned and promised to send help right away. "You should not have let Math leave," he scolded.
"His sister is dying, Albus!" Goewin said indignantly.
"It would not help anything if harm befell you as well, Goewin," Dumbledore said firmly. "I'll send Branwen and Remus over shortly; they should just be finishing up with their classes."
But in the time it took to call Dumbledore, and for him to summon the two Order members to his office, the Death Eaters struck.
Gwydion had brought Gilbert and several other Death Eaters with him: Malfoy, Avery, Nott, and the Lestranges. They battered the wards with the strongest Dark Spells they possessed, having no need for subtlety; this was to be a quick snatch-and-run operation, and it didn't matter if they set off alarms or attracted attention. Goewin had just cut off contact with Dumbledore when the Death Eaters burst into the house, shattering the windows and blowing the front door off its hinges.
Ariane cursed and pulled out her wand, quickly throwing up shield spells and wards of protection around herself and Goewin.
"Hello, Sister," Gwydion said with a smile.
"You traitor!" Ariane screamed.
"Look who's talking," Lucius Malfoy said coolly. "You are supposed to be on our side, Ariane."
Ariane ignored him. "You!" she snarled at Gwydion. "After the way you turned on me, you went and sold your soul to the Death Eaters! You killed our mother to help them take Goewin!"
Gwydion went a little pale. "They weren't supposed to hurt her so badly," he said defensively. "I told them to be careful..."
"Enough with the family reunion," Bellatrix interrupted. "Hand over Goewin, Ariane, and we'll spare your life."
"No!"
"If you won't do it for your own sake," Lucius said smoothly, "do it for Dylan's."
Ariane went pale, but held her ground. "Dylan is safe at Hogwarts."
"I can get to him at any time," Lucius taunted.
"If you touch my son, I'll kill you!"
"You'll have to survive first!" Lucius retorted, and the Death Eaters began attacking her shields. She was a good mage, and Goewin helped to reinforce the shielding spells, but the two of them could not hold out against the strength of eight combined wizards. The shields fell, and Ariane went on the offensive, while Goewin, who was not trained in combative magics, did her best to protect herself.
"Crucio!" Ariane shouted, and Avery fell to the floor, writhing and screaming.
"I see you remember your lessons!" Lucius shouted, hurling a curse of his own at her. "What made you switch sides, Ariane?" She lunged to one side, but it grazed her, opening a bloody gash on her arm and staining her white robes red. She didn't flinch, but immediately shot back another spell at him. A dagger-shaped beam of red light hit him in the shoulder, knocking him to the ground. He clutched at the wound, screaming in pain. "You bitch!"
Then Ariane was hit simultaneously by two spells cast by Gwydion and Rodolphus Lestrange, and fell to the floor, unconscious. "Let's finish her off," Bellatrix said with a grin.
"NO!" shouted Gilbert, and the other mages turned to stare at him.
"A Death Eater cannot be soft, Gilbert," Lucius said quietly.
"I--I don't care about Ariane!" Gilbert said, thinking quickly. As low as he had sunk, he could not stoop to killing his little sister. "Leave her here to take the blame--she was once a Death Eater, maybe Math will think she was behind the attack!"
"Good thinking, little brother!" Gwydion said, clapping him on the shoulder, and Gilbert felt sick to his stomach.
By now, Nott and Rabastan Lestrange had managed to disarm and bind Goewin. They prepared to depart as Branwen and Lupin rushed into the room. Lucius went pale when he saw his old Professor; he had no desire to take on the woman who had slain three Death Eaters single-handedly, and abruptly Disapparated. The other wizards followed suit as the two Order members hurled spells at them; they heard a cry of pain, indicating they had hit someone, but it was too late. The Death Eaters all vanished, along with Goewin.
Math appeared a moment later. Overwhelmed by the sight of his sister lying in a hospital bed near death, it had taken him a few minutes to realize that his nephew, who had expressed such concern about his dying mother, was nowhere in sight. He surveyed the wreckage of the room, the unconscious body of his niece, and the stricken faces of his two fellow Order members. "Oh no," he whispered.
***
The Death Eaters took Goewin to Voldemort's hideout. They did not harm her, but locked a Squib Collar around her neck so she could not use her magic. But then Voldemort ordered them to take it off after he realized it was interfering with the visions. It did not make much difference; she was helpless without her wand, which had been left behind at the mansion, and she had no talent for the combative magics, anyway.
"My husband will find me," she said defiantly, trying to show none of the fear she felt.
"Perhaps," Voldemort said, unconcerned. "But not in time. The child has been sending you dreams, has she not?" Goewin tried not to react, but she must have flinched, because he smiled and nodded. "Yes, I thought so. You will prophesy for me, dear, and tell me how I can win the war."
"Never!"
Voldemort laughed. "Ah, such spirit! Quite admirable, but you will have no choice, my dear."
She was taken to a small room and tied to the bed within it. Goewin could not prevent a flash of fear from showing in her eyes, and Voldemort laughed again. "Do not worry, my dear. None of my Death Eaters will lay a hand upon you, on my orders. I want you alive and well for now." Then he set up a brazier in the middle of the room, burning rare herbs and incense, and she knew what he intended to do.
"No drugs," she pleaded, forgetting her pride and defiance. "They might hurt the baby...please..."
"Ah, love is such a weakness," Voldemort observed, sounding amused. "It makes a proud woman beg, makes a protective husband leave his wife's side...it makes fools of you, my dear. But do not worry; the herbs would be dangerous if ingested, but the smoke should not harm the baby, which is why I am burning them rather than forcing you to take a potion. I would not want you to have a miscarriage, after all. At least, not until I find out what I need to know."
Goewin fought to remain awake and alert, but drug-laden smoke soon put her into trance. She forgot who and where she was, and became lost in the visions...
Voldemort forced himself to wait patiently; this process could not be rushed. That was why he had not bothered to use his Legilimency on her; attacking her mind might destroy it, and her mind needed to be intact in order to receive the visions. Besides, she had not left her husband's estate for over six months, and Dumbledore would not use a pregnant woman as an agent in the war, particularly one with no skill in combative magic; she probably knew little that was useful apart from the visions, anyway.
"Blood...blood everywhere..." Goewin muttered deliriously. "Dylan...ah, no, please don't let him die..."
She rambled incoherently, mostly about blood and battles and snakes and skulls; nothing the Dark Lord didn't already know. He still needed to keep her and the unborn child healthy, so at regular intervals he let her rest and eat before putting her into trance again. She was too weak to fight him, and besides, he knew she wanted to keep her baby healthy. If she had not been pregnant, no doubt she would have fought, would perhaps have refused food in an effort to starve herself to death, but he knew that she would eat and cling to life for the child's sake, still hoping that a miracle would happen and someone would rescue her.
Finally, a few days after her capture, she said something that caught Voldemort's attention. "The lion and the serpent," she whispered. "Locked in an embrace...locked in combat...bound in love and bound in death..."
The lion and the serpent; that had to stand for himself and Harry Potter! "Tell me more," Voldemort hissed.
Goewin could not hear him in her trance, but she continued to speak of the visions she saw. "I see a lake...and a forest...it's the school...Hogwarts...Hogwarts is the key..."
"What?!" Voldemort shouted.
Goewin babbled on, paying him no heed, "Hogwarts is the keystone of the wizarding world; remove it and everything else will fall. The final battle will take place on the school grounds..."
"Yes!" Voldemort hissed triumphantly. This was what he wanted to hear!
"I see the children on the battlefield," Goewin whispered. "Dylan...Draco...the other Slytherin children...Harry Potter..."
Gwydion watched nervously from the doorway. Since he and his brother had been spotted by Blackmore and Lupin, their cover was now blown, and he was staying in the Dark Lord's hideout along with Wormtail and some of the other fugitives. He now had no choice but to fully commit to his Master's cause, if he ever wanted to be something other than an outcast and a criminal. "But Hogwarts is protected," he said.
Voldemort glared at the interruption, but then Goewin spoke, as if in response to Gwydion's comment. "The blood of an innocent will break the protections spun over Hogwarts..." Then her eyes went wide with terror and she began screaming.
Voldemort carelessly flicked his wand at her, casting a sleep spell, and the screaming ceased. "That's it!" he said. "We will make a blood sacrifice upon the school grounds, breaking the protections, breaking the seat of Dumbledore's power!"
"But how will we get into the school?" Gwydion wanted to know.
"Don't worry," Voldemort said with a satisfied smile. "I have a plan..."
"Who will we sacrifice?" Gilbert asked in a trembling voice.
"She said, 'the blood of an innocent,'" Voldemort mused, looking at Goewin. "And what could be more innocent than a baby? And if that is not sufficient, we will have a whole school filled with innocent children. Well, relatively innocent, anyway...I'm not sure that we can call Dylan and his friends 'innocent,' exactly..." The Dark Lord cackled and went off to set his plans in motion.
"Gwydion," Gilbert whispered urgently. "Kidnapping her was one thing--but to let him kill her? And her baby?"
"That baby would take our inheritance!" Gwydion whispered back fiercely. "And besides, it's her or us! What do you care, anyway--she's the reason we were turned into beasts! She's the reason you lost your mind--and don't forget that you would still be a half-wit if not for me!" Gilbert watched his brother stalk off, and wished that Gwydion had left him a half-wit. His brother was now a Death Eater in spirit as well as name, and Gilbert could see no way out of this mess of their own making.
***
The Order kept Goewin's kidnapping quiet; they didn't want to alarm the public--which was already in a panic over the attack that had wounded Deirdre and killed several people--but most of all, they didn't want Dylan to know what had happened. Snape didn't think that the boy would be able to keep up his loyal facade in front of the Death Eaters if he knew the truth.
"We'll have to tell him eventually," Lupin pointed out.
"Not yet," Snape insisted, and Ariane agreed. "The Dark Lord clearly wants to keep this a secret from him, or he would have used Dylan instead of Gwydion to get to Goewin. He still needs Dylan's willing cooperation to make use of the roses."
"Maybe we can get Goewin back before it becomes necessary to tell him," Ariane said hopefully, though they all knew that wasn't very likely.
Keeping it a secret meant that they could not yet expose Gwydion's treachery, but apparently he wasn't taking any chances. He disappeared without word, alarming his supervisors and coworkers at the Ministry. Gilbert had vanished as well; although apart from the Order, only Deirdre's house-elf servants were aware of it at present. They were very worried about "young Master Gilbert, who is not quite right in the head, you know." Math assured them that they were doing everything they could to find the brothers, and ordered them to keep quiet about it. And, lacking instructions from any other member of the family, they readily obeyed.
But Dumbledore decided that there was one person who needed to be told. Against all odds, Deirdre Donner lived, making a miraculous recovery--thanks in part to the skill of the healers at St. Mungo's, a sizable portion of good luck, and her own stubborn, tenacious nature which would not allow death to take her so easily. She left her bed as soon as she was able, about a week after the attack, against the doctors' orders, and demanded to know where her sons were. On Dumbledore's instructions, Math brought her to Hogwarts.
"Mother!" Ariane said. "Thank Merlin you're all right!"
Deirdre slapped away her daughter's outstretched hands, ignoring the hurt look on Ariane's face and the reproachful glare Branwen Blackmore gave her.
"Where are my sons?" Deirdre demanded of Dumbledore, who sat at his desk in his office, calmly gazing back at her.
"Your sons are traitors, Deirdre," Dumbledore said. "They have joined the Death Eaters."
"That's ridiculous!" Deirdre snapped. "If anyone is a Death Eater, it's Ariane!"
"Ariane made some terrible errors of judgment in the past, Sister," Math said, "but she has repented of her crimes. She has risked her life to help us fight Voldemort."
"You're a sentimental old fool if you believe that, Math!" Deirdre said. "And what about my sons? What possible motive could they have for joining the Death Eaters? Gilbert isn't even able to think for himself, anyway!"
"That is precisely the motive," Dumbledore said. Lupin stepped forward and placed a casket full of potion bottles on the Headmaster's desk, along with two hooded black robes. "We found these in Gwydion's rooms: Death Eater robes and Mind Restoration Potion. Gwydion joined the Death Eaters because Voldemort promised him a potion that would restore his brother's sanity. Though I fear Gilbert still isn't thinking for himself, and is mostly following his brother's lead, as he has done all his life."
"No," Deirdre whispered, staring at the bottles and robes in horror. "No, it's not true!" she said desperately. "Someone planted those things there to try and frame them!"
In a cold, implacable voice, Math said, "They arranged the attack on you, Deirdre, to lure me away from my home so they could kidnap my wife!"
"No!"
"I saw them, Mother," Ariane said, gazing at Deirdre, surprised to feel more pity than triumph. "They came accompanied by several Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy among them, and overpowered me and took Goewin."
"Why would they want Goewin?" Deirdre screamed hysterically. "And why should I believe you?!"
"You may believe us, Deirdre," Branwen said quietly. "Remus and I came to their aid, and witnessed the attack."
"You're the daughter of a Dark Wizard!" Deirdre protested, but they could see belief dawning in her eyes.
"As to why," Lupin said, "Goewin is pregnant, and her daughter has the Sight." That statement finally rendered Deirdre speechless. "One of our Seers foresaw that the child would be vital to the war efforts, and apparently Voldemort somehow became aware of that as well. That is why he used your sons to kidnap her."
Deirdre slowly sank to her knees on the floor, buried her face in her hands, and began to weep. Math knelt down beside her and put his arms around her. "How?" she sobbed. "How could he do such a thing, Math?"
"Gwydion did it for love of his brother," Math replied sadly. "He always loved Gilbert too much."
"It started out as a gesture of love for his brother," Branwen said, looking down at Deirdre with neither compassion nor contempt. "But Gwydion also loves power, and I fear Voldemort has used both loves to corrupt him beyond redemption. Gwydion was his spy in the Ministry, you know. He used his position to help break the Death Eaters out of Azkaban."
"And you didn't tell me?!" Deirdre shouted at her brother.
"Would you have believed me?" he asked softly.
"No," she replied, hanging her head. "I can scarcely believe it now." Then she looked up, and her eyes, though red from weeping, were cold and hard. "But they are my sons no longer, and they will pay for their crimes."
"You still have a daughter," Branwen reminded her.
Deirdre glared at her again, and gazed at her daughter suspiciously. "How can you be sure she is trustworthy?"
"She has willingly sworn her loyalty under Geas," Math replied. "The spell will destroy her if she tries to break her vows."
Deirdre stared at her daughter in shock and began laughing mirthlessly. "And in a moment, my world is turned topsy-turvy! My sons are Death Eaters, and my disowned daughter is working against her former Master!"
"She was never truly a Death Eater, Lady Deirdre," Lupin said gently.
"No, but I came close enough to it," Ariane admitted.
"What made you change your mind?" her mother asked.
"I did not want my son to die in the Dark Lord's service as his father did," Ariane replied quietly.
"Hmmph!" Deirdre snorted. "Well, you're mistaken if you think I'll ever accept that Slytherin brat into the family!"
"Deirdre!" Math shouted indignantly, but Ariane just shrugged indifferently.
Deirdre ignored them both. "Well, I will help you in any way I can, to make up for my sons' crimes," she told Dumbledore.
"Thank you, Deirdre," the Headmaster said solemnly. "You can start by keeping this information secret for now; there is still a chance the boys may return to you so long as they believe you do not know the truth."
"If they do so, you may be sure I will turn them in," she said grimly.
"For now," Dumbledore continued, "I think you can serve us best by getting some rest; you look like you're about to collapse. Math, why don't you take her to the hospital wing? She's clearly not up to traveling; she can rest here tonight."
With only a token protest, Deirdre followed her brother through the fireplace and into the hospital wing.
"I'm sorry, Ariane," Branwen said. "I hoped she would react differently when she found out the truth..."
Ariane shrugged again. "She's spent the past fifteen years hating me; she's not going to change overnight. She'll probably never forgive me; it's not just that I allied with the Death Eaters, but that I took a Slytherin as a lover and bore his child. Besides, it scares me to see her all weepy; when she's in her overbearing Lady Donner mode, at least I know she's feeling all right."
Lupin chuckled gently, and Branwen smiled and let the matter drop, although they both knew that Ariane had been hurt by her mother's rejection, and resumed their discussion with the Headmaster. It was vital that they find some way to rescue Goewin, not just for her sake, but to prevent Voldemort from winning the war. Math returned, along with Snape, and they continued their discussion long into the night...
***
"You want me to WHAT?!" Gwydion shrieked. "I'm a fugitive! I can't just waltz into the Ministry of Magic!"
"Actually, Gwydion, you're not," Lucius interrupted. "My sources tell me that the kidnapping was not made public, and no charges have been filed against you. Your coworkers believe you are the victim of foul play."
"How can that be?" a stunned Gwydion asked. "Why didn't they expose me?"
"Dumbledore must have his reasons," Lucius said with a shrug, "but it works to our advantage."
"Maybe it's a trap," Gwydion said suspiciously. "Maybe they'll arrest me as soon as I walk through the door."
"Then you will have to convince them that you are innocent," Voldemort said. "Tell them you were kidnapped by the Death Eaters and put under an Imperius Curse. Many of my Death Eaters did so and got away with it after the first war."
Those Death Eaters looked very nervous at that reminder, and Gwydion protested, "But that makes it less likely that they'll believe it the second time around!"
"That is an order, not a suggestion, Gwydion!" Voldemort snarled.
Gwydion bowed and glumly said, "Yes, my Lord."
***
Percy Weasley was working late at the Ministry of Magic, filling out some paperwork for his supervisor, Cornelius Fudge. He was very proud to be assistant to the Minister of Magic himself, and didn't mind the long hours. After all, the Minister was working around the clock to deal with the Death Eater attacks; he would do whatever he could, however small, to ease the Minister's burdens.
Hal Wilson, a young assistant to one of the under-Ministers, dropped another stack of papers on Percy's desk. "I'm calling it a night, Percy. You're staying late again, huh?"
"It's my duty to stay as long as the Minister does, in case he needs me," Percy said primly.
Hal just grinned, unoffended; he was impossibly good-natured, and reminded Percy uncomfortably of his brothers. "Say, I picked up something cool at your brothers' shop today," he said.
"Please don't remind me what a disgrace the twins are to the family name," Percy groaned.
"They're successful businessmen," Hal chided him. "That's nothing to be ashamed of! Anyway, they have these new fireworks." He held out a small red cardboard tube, about the size of a cigarette. "You don't even have to light them, just flick the top off to set them off. Like this--"
"Don't do that in here, you imbecile!" Percy shouted.
"Just kidding, Weasley," Hal laughed, dropping the tube on Percy's desk. "Anyhow, it's my kid brother's birthday this weekend, and I figured he'd love these."
"I'm sure he will," Percy said sourly.
Just then, Fudge walked in, looking weary and anxious. "What's going on here?" he asked.
Percy hastily scooped up the fireworks tube and dropped it in his pocket. "Nothing, sir. Wilson was just dropping off these papers. He was just on his way out."
"Goodnight, sir," Hal said, nodding at Fudge in a respectful manner.
"Goodnight," Fudge said absentmindedly as Hal left. "We need to draft up these new orders, to be sent to the press and posted around the city. We've decided to put a curfew into effect until the Death Eaters are caught."
"Yes, sir!" Percy said, picking up his quill. "A splendid idea, sir!"
Fudge smiled and patted Percy on the shoulder. "Well then, let's get to work, Weasley."
Meanwhile, the security guard in the Atrium gasped as Arthur Weasley and Gwydion Donner staggered into the hall. Gwydion's clothes were rumpled and dirty, with streaks of what looked like dried blood smeared on them, and there were prominent bruises on his face. He leaned heavily on Arthur for support.
"Mr. Donner!" the guard gasped. "Are you all right? Where have you been all this time?"
"We have no time to talk now!" Arthur snapped. "We must see the Minister of Magic right away! Gwydion has vital information about the Death Eaters!" Gwydion groaned, and looked like he was going to collapse.
"He looks like he needs medical attention," the guard said dubiously.
"No time for that," Gwydion protested bravely. "I'll be all right. Must get...this information to the Minister...before it's too late..."
"Go on up, sirs," the guard said. "I'll let Mr. Fudge know you're on your way."
"Gwydion! Arthur!" Fudge exclaimed as they burst into his office. "What's going on?"
"Dad!" said Percy.
Arthur Weasley regarded him with a look of surprise, as if he didn't recognize his own son, then he smiled, in a sleek and smug way that Percy had never seen before. "Ah, young Percy," he purred in a tone of voice that was totally out of character, and yet somehow familiar. "I hadn't expected you to be here, but you could come in quite useful."
"Dad?" Percy asked in confusion.
"Munch called up and said you had information about the Death Eaters," Fudge said anxiously.
"Yes, I do," Gwydion replied.
"What happened? Did they kidnap you?"
"No, Cornelius," Gwydion replied, taking out his wand, as did Arthur. "I am one of them."
"What?!" Fudge shouted. "If this is some sort of joke, Donner--"
"It's no joke, Minister. Imperio!"
Percy lunged for the door, screaming for help, before his "father" also hit him with an Imperius Curse.
Only one Auror--not Kingsley Shacklebolt, who might have been more careful, because Lucius and Gwydion had been careful to choose a night when he was not on the duty roster--had still been in the building this late at night. Although the guard had no reason to doubt Gwydion's loyalty, he had still alerted the Auror, figuring that the Aurors would be needed to deal with whatever Death Eater threat Gwydion and Arthur were about to report. He heard Percy's cry for help, and walked in with his wand raised, but he was not quick enough to fend off the attack.
"Avada Kedavra!" Arthur shouted, and the man dropped to the floor like a stone.
Percy suddenly knew why his father's voice had sounded strange and yet familiar at the same time. "You're Lucius Malfoy," he whispered.
"And you're not as dumb as you look, Percy," Lucius said, smiling at him maliciously with his father's face. "I order you not to speak without my permission." And Percy found himself unable to speak further.
Meanwhile, Gwydion hid the Auror's body in the closet. No one would find it until it was too late.
Gwydion whispered his instructions into the Minister's ear, and they left the office.
"Mr. Fudge!" the guard exclaimed as they exited the elevator and emerged in the Atrium.
Fudge said stiffly, "Don't speak a word of this to anyone, Eric. Top-secret business. The safety of the wizarding world depends upon it."
"Yes, sir!" the guard said. "You can count on me, sir!"
Lucius laughed after they left the building, "How helpful that the Ministry seems to be staffed by idiots!" Then he grinned at Percy and said, "Come along now, son. We're paying a visit to your old alma mater."
***
While Gwydion and Lucius were on their mission, the Dark Lord was making his own preparations. His magical research had finally paid off; first he quaffed a mixture made from human blood and the crushed petals of Dylan's roses. Next, he picked up a dagger that had been soaked in the same mixture while many powerful enchantments were laid upon it. The steel blade now had a metallic red sheen to it. He slipped it into a sheath on his belt, which also held a second dagger, the one with the serpent-shaped hilt, which was not enchanted. Finally, he picked up a flask containing some of Dylan's blood and went to the room that held the vampiric roses. He opened the flask, took out his wand, and cast a spell that had taken him months to develop. The wand pulled the blood out of the flask, spinning it into a length of red thread, and then wove the thread into a confining net around around the potted rose bush. The roses quivered a little, then went still. Voldemort still had not found a way to command the roses, but at least now he could transport them--the "net" made of Dylan's blood would keep them quiescent--and once the net was removed he wouldn't really need to control them. Voldemort just had to make sure that he and his Death Eaters remained out of range, and the roses would happily attack anyone that ventured within reach of their vines.
He ordered Wormtail to carry the magically-bound roses, which he did with great reluctance, whimpering with fear the entire time. His other Death Eaters came at his call, carrying a bound and gagged Goewin, and they all Disapparated.
Part 33
***
Afterword: Corrected a minor mistake from the original version, where I referred to the "doctors" at St. Mungos when they should be called "healers." I think it was when I was re-reading OotP, I noticed Molly making disparaging remarks about doctors, so it was clearly solely a Muggle term.