Pain is Art
Some more of Pain is Art...
If I cried would you hold me, as tears cascade down my face?
If I died would you mourn me, wrapped in deaths embrace?
If I screamed would you listen, as my anguish is expressed?
If I bleed tired of living, would you love me any less?
It was light when he opened his eyes, the sun shining down, though he could have sworn he only went to bed a few hours ago. How did the time pass so quickly? Then he looked, this time taking in his surroundings, and he realized with a jolt of nervousness and excitement that he was back in the forest. Dreaming yes but he was still here. He wasn’t alone.
“Hello Harry” The voice wasn’t warm like it was before, though it wasn’t cold either. It was masking…something. Harry didn’t know what but he desperately wanted to find out, he just couldn’t bring himself to ask. So he just stared, stared deeply into Tom’s eyes, trying to figure out what emotion they hid. But it was a useless feat, Tom had perfected his mask well over the years, no one could see anything they didn’t wish him to.
Neither knew how long they stared like that, trying so hard to see what the other was thinking, but Harry broke the silence first. “What’s wrong?” He asked the Dark Lord cautiously, hoping he wouldn’t snap. Tom didn’t answer at first, only looked at him intensely. Then he said one word. “Why?”
Harry was taken aback. Whatever he had expected it hadn’t been that. Why? Why What? “I don’t understand.” He whispered, his eyes pleading with Tom to explain. In answer the other boy walked towards and knelt down in front of Harry who, once again, was sitting on the floor. Then he gently took hold of Harry’s hands and pulled them towards him, causing both Harry’s sleeves to slip down to his elbows. His cuts and scars were plain for all to see.
“Why?” Tom asked again, deep worry lacing his words this time. Harry turned away, averting his eyes. He couldn’t look, couldn’t stand to see the expression etched on the others face. “Harry…please…tell me. Please…” And that was all it took. All it took for the last of Harry’s resolve to fail him. And for the first time in many years, he broke down in the arms of another.
How long they stayed like that, Harry sobbing while Tom held him tightly, soothing his rambling apologies, once again neither knew. Time seemed limitless in this place, this between land. Eventually though Harry’s sobs subsided, but still he clung to Tom like he was the only thing anchoring him, stopping him from cracking, shattering into so many small pieces no one would be able to put him back together.
“I’m sorry…” He mumbled into the dark lords shirt. He didn’t quite know what he was sorry for. Losing control? Worrying him? Or maybe he was sorry for getting found out? But it didn’t matter; such things were inconsequential at that point in time. “Hush darling.” Tom murmured stroking Harry’s hair comfortingly, before kissing his head lightly.
Tom rubbed Harry’s wrists gently, contemplating the best way to approach the distraught angel that he held so tightly in his arms and heart. He didn’t want to risk scaring Harry into doing something drastic but he couldn’t not know what had driven him to do it, to try and take his own life.
“How?” Harry asked finally, ”How did you know?” Tom sighed then drew Harry even closer, if possible. “Your not the only one that feels the connection.” He answered, then waited a few seconds before talking again. “I didn’t know what it was the first few times I felt it. The sadness, the pain and sometimes the intense fear. I thought I was imagining it. Then one night I had a flash, a vision of sorts. And it was of you, you sat in the middle of a small room in a pale strip of light, a knife clutched in your hand, scars covering your arms. Tears flowed down your face, pretty crystalline pain, immortalized.”
He sighed again. “It didn’t last long and I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t real, that if real only so in the future. Maybe I had time to prevent it. But then yesterday I felt it, anguish so intense I nearly collapsed. And I knew…knew that it was real, that it was you, and I had to do something, anything to take that sadness away. So I did the only thing I could think of, I entered your mind. I tried to find what it was that was making you feel that way, but instead I found your mind fading, all thoughts almost gone.”
Tom buried his face in Harry’s hair momentarily, then continued speaking, seemingly comforted. “When I realized what you had done I was almost hysterical, I couldn’t lose you, not when I had only just found out what you meant to me. So I…I possessed you, barely managing to do so before your heart stopped beating. And I healed your wrists using the most complex healing spell I could think of, one that replenished some of the blood you had lost, then I left. I...I thought it was better to let you wake in your own time, to be able to think things through when you did.”
Silence followed Tom’s final words and Harry gazed at him for a few minutes before hesitantly pressing their lips together. “Thank you.” Tom didn’t answer, instead he drew Harry’s face to his and kissed him passionately as all their pent up feelings finally found an outlet.
I lost myself long ago,
In the memories of all I’ve known.
Submerged my mind in times gone past,
Learnt happiness can never last.
If I lost myself in thoughts of you,
Would my heart learn what I thought it knew?
If I entrance my mind with your body’s feel,
Would happiness for once seem real?
Harry glared at his reflection. His reflection glared back. Unfortunately this just made him angrier. After what happened last time, however, he made sure he calmed down. He really didn’t want, or need, a repeat of the smashed mirror fiasco. Sure it only took a few seconds to fix it with magic but he didn’t want to have to explain why it had smashed in the first place. As far as most of the Order was concerned he was a weak little child who was still in a tiff over Sirius’ death.
That was why they never questioned why he locked himself in his bedroom or hid in the library. They thought he was still grieving and that he didn’t want to talk because he would burst out crying or some shit like that. Yes, he was still grieving, probably a part of him always would, but it was manageable, even welcome. Sirius was a distraction. Something that stopped him flooing to Hogwarts at slitting Dumbledore’s throat. Not that I won’t still do that. Harry thought darkly. The manipulating bastard deserves it!
Now, now Harry. A melodic voice sang. What would the Gryfindors do if they heard their precious golden boy speaking about their beloved headmaster in such a way?
Harry glared at nothing. Stuff it Tom. He replied. Anyway, I wasn’t speaking out loud so unless my housemates have all become proficient at Legilimency over the holidays they need never know what I think. Tom laughed but stopped when he felt the annoyance that was apparent. I was only joking darling. He said soothingly.
Harry half smiled, he could never stay angry with the Dark Lord for long. Not since they actually had a conversation with each other. It took up to much energy. What are you doing in my head Tom? He asked curiously.
To wish you a happy 16th birthday of course! Harry cursed under his breath, not that there was anyone to hear it. With all that had happened lately he had completely forgotten his birthday. How the hell did you manage to forget your own birthday? Tom exclaimed. Harry shrugged before answering. It’s never really been that important. I have better things to think about.
Like what? Tom asked puzzled. Harry smiled slightly.
You.
“Harry?” Someone knocked loudly on the door. “You said you’d be downstairs half an hour ago!” Yes, well, that was before he had spoken to Remus. About what?
Mind your own business! Harry admonished playfully before laughing. He could feel Tom sulking at the other end of the connection. I gotta go, he said regretfully, duty calls and all that. He felt a sigh.
Alright, I’ll talk to you later.
Bye Tom.
Goodbye darling.
Finally, Harry made his way downstairs.
Lunch was surprisingly enjoyable. With Ron and Hermione’s arguing, the twin’s jokes and Mrs Weasley trying to fatten him up (‘Your too thin dear’) the impending visit slowly went to he back of his mind. Everyone wished him a happy birthday, including Tonks and Moody who came to leave a report for Dumbledore, and for once he felt almost normal. Especially when Ron shouted one word.
“Presents!”
Harry, the Weasleys and Hermione all went into the lounge where a pile of presents was sitting. Harry was momentarily stunned by the knowledge that so many people cared enough to buy him gifts. Maybe he wasn’t as alone as he thought.
From Hermione he received a book on advanced defensive and offensive spells. Apparently she had noticed that he spent a lot of the time in the Library learning battle magic so she had decided that, for once, he would actually be happy with a book. From Ron he was given a gigantic assortment of sweets that would most likely take him the entire year to eat, from the twins he got a massive bag full of jokes, Ginny gave him a snitch which she had won and the rest of the Weasleys gave him a selection of things that, while not being expensive, meant a lot more to him then solid gold.
From members of the D.A. he received books, sweets and requests for the D.A. to continue, something Harry would have to think on and Remus had given him a diary filled with stories about his parents, which Harry had thanked him for persistently.
Then he picked up the last gift, wrapped in red and gold paper. He didn’t have a clue who it was from and was amazed at what he found. A pensive.
This was something Harry had wanted since he first saw the headmaster’s. But who would give him such a thing? He picked up the note that had fluttered unnoticed to the floor and read it, curious.
He saw red.
All of a sudden the room was full of chaos. Everything made of glass had shattered showering the occupants who were luckily all, except Harry, covered by a shield. Then three people gasped simultaneously, followed by all but one as they took in the sight before them.
Harry was knelt on the floor, his expression filled with rage and his eyes wide, the green swirling. Magic was twisting around him crackling in its intensity, every so often sending jolts into back into Harry. Hermione tried to reach him but one of the twins held her back. All they could was watch and wait, wait for the magic to settle.
There were theories of course saying that magic was everywhere. That someone with enough power could manipulate it. But it was never proven and therefore became no more then a myth, with only a select few ever believing it was possible. There had been stories over the centuries of people who could wield such magic but none had ever done so in front of a large group. So they remained stories.
And as Harry felt the magic explode from his very core to join that that was around him he knew that everything was different. His life was about to become even weirder then it normally was. But the most prominent thought was this:
Dumbledore would have no idea what had hit him!
And the Angels will Fall
Why do angels fall first,
When the world starts to die,
When happiness ends,
And sorrow comes to reign?
Why do devils survive,
When the world starts to crumble,
When the bodies of the damned,
Line the future ahead?
Why does love come second,
To the darkness that grows,
To the suffocating fear,
That spread panic and discord?
Why does hate destroy worlds,
When hell comes to play,
When screams fill the air,
And tears flood the skies?
Why is day fading slowly?
And night getting so much worse?
When the world starts to die,
The angels will fall first.
Harry groaned as he awoke. He felt like shit. Complete and utter shit. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the dancing colours from his vision. But when it had cleared it still wasn’t what he had expected and he almost groaned again. This wasn’t his room, no way in hell. By the looks of it he wasn’t even in Grimauld Place. The room was too bright for a start, decorated in creams and browns which, combined with the light streaming through the window was lighter then any room in the Black family house had ever been.
He knew he should have been worried but he was too tired, too exhausted. The hum of magic that was usually so loud had gone almost silent. His magic was tapped out. Even if he had had the strength, he couldn’t have done much magicless. All he could do was hope that, for once, someone wasn’t trying to kill him. He would have laughed if he thought he could manage it. Someone was always trying to kill him, just not always the person he expected.
Harry felt his eyelids grow heavy and his mind cloud with the need for sleep. He was so, so tired. He tried to stay awake but after a brief struggle surrendered to dreamland. If he was lucky Tom would be there.
“Harry!” To his complete surprise Harry found himself pulled into a tight hug. “I was so worried!” Tom exclaimed, “No one knows where you are.” Harry wrapped his arm around the ‘Dark Lord.’ “I don’t know where I am!” He said burrowing his head into Tom’s chest and relishing the comfort he found there. “I just woke up and there I was.” Harry said shrugging his shoulders. “And no, before you ask, I‘m not hurt.”
Tom smiled slightly, amused that already Harry knew him so well. He didn’t want to show how worried he was. It had been so long since he had anybody who actually needed to be worried over. The Death Eaters could generally look after themselves and he had done everything in his power to distance himself from any would be friends or lovers.
He couldn’t stand the thought of losing someone he loved and, truth be told, he was scared. Scared that if anyone did find their way into his heart they would leave and he would be left alone and hurt. If he never fell in love, he wouldn’t have anything to compare his current loneliness to, wouldn’t spend his life reminiscing on what he had once had.
Tom had always been a solitary person anyway, though not by choice the majority of his life. Before Hogwarts he had lived in a orphanage, ridiculed for being a freak, for being clever and just because everyone needs a scapegoat. At Hogwarts he had hoped that he would finally be accepted, he was no longer a freak because of his magic. But he was sorted into Slytherin, the house everyone but it’s inhabitants hated, and even there he didn’t fit.
Why? Because he was a half blood. One magical parent, one muggle. And Slytherin, Slytherin was, and had always been, an entirely pureblood house and the Snakes, as they were known, were proud of it. But Tom ruined it. His housemates were horrified, a half blood in Slytherin? It just wasn’t allowed! No one had a reason, it just didn’t happen. So by most of his house Tom was ignored, they seemed to live by the saying if you don’t acknowledge it, it isn’t there.
Tom grew used to his none existence, spending his time in the library or planning his future. Not that this was part of it he thought. When he had finally graduated he had been given only a few years before Dumbledore proclaimed him a Dark Lord and after that he had spent all his time fighting the war. When his soul was separated from his body he had spent 13 years on his own.
But now he had Harry, or so it seemed, but always the voice at the back of his mind whispered. Harry would leave him, of course he would. Harry was young, rich, beautiful and a hero to boot. What did he have to offer him? Though he may not look it, and only the gods know why, he was old. He was old, exiled and had hurt Harry so many times, how could Harry forgive him? He could not even forgive himself.
“What are you thinking of?” Harry asked Tom, caressing his face with his left hand. Tom looked at him intently before leaning down to kiss him gently, feeling Harry smile as their lips touched. He slipped his tongue in Harry’s mouth, tasting him, his hands going to Harry’s waist to pull him closer. Harry wrapped his arms around Tom’s neck so they were flat against each other. Tom brought his left hand higher under Harry’s chest, stroking the smooth, pale skin as the other descended to Harry’s waste line reaching lower…
Harry awoke, gasping for air, to see a pair of blue eyes watching him.
Emptiness surrounds me,
In this wide realm of nothing.
As I walk a blistered, broken path,
And run in circles in my mind.
Children dance while holding hands,
Chanting rhymes and fairytales.
Fangs are bared and eyes are red,
The demon children in my head.
Harry stared shocked at the girl who was watching him, amused. She was incredibly beautiful, long blond hair fell to her knees laced with blue strands and deep blue eyes sparkled with intelligence. “Hello.” She said, smiling at him. Harry looked at her, suspicious before answering. “Hi…” He said cautiously. Her smile widened.
“I’m Rhiannon, pleased to meet you.” She said politely, curtseying after. Harry racked his brain for a suitable reply. “Pleasures all mine.” He replied somewhat awkwardly. It had been a long time since he had needed to drag such proper manners from the back of his mind.
She laughed. “Now we have the formalities over with. How are you?” She looked worried now but Harry couldn’t see why. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?” He inquired confused. “You’ve been asleep for 3 days hun, you tapped yourself out.” Harry was puzzled.
Seeing the look on his face Rhiannon explained. “Every witch or wizard has an innate supply of magic and each supply is different. No two peoples magic is the same. You following?” Harry nodded. “ Now, most magic is specialized. This is how you get people who are better at transfiguration or herbology.”
“Herbology?” Harry asked. Rhiannon nodded.
“People who are good at herbology have magic that is connected more with the Earth, so are better at lessons involving plants, animals and usually healing.” Harry thought about that. “Why healing?” Rhiannon was quiet and Harry wasn’t sure whether she’d answer or not.
“To heal you need to have knowledge and understanding of living things, not just the human body. When you heal your magic is flowing into the injured beings body, mixing with the magic there. The combined power then joins to heal. If your connection to the Earth isn’t strong enough then you will not be able to direct your magic properly, it would be more like an attack.”
“And if this happens?” Harry enquired, absorbing the information. Rhiannon sighed.
“If this happens then the beings magic will fight the healers. Nearly every time the weaker has been killed, sometimes both. Which is why anyone with half a brain doesn’t try to heal anything without training.”
“What about muggles?” He asked. Rhiannon twirled her hair round a finger.
“Contrary to popular belief muggles do have magic, their supply is just so low most don’t notice. Didn’t you ever wonder how people survive high falls, how old ladies lift cars to save their grandchildren? They are tapping into their supply of magic.”
Harry was amazed. How did she know all this? It was… wow...he had never thought…He didn’t quite understand the bit about the Earth though and decided to ask later if he was still alive.
“Right, back to you being tapped out.” Rhiannon continued. “When you cast a lesser spell, say lumos, you only use a tiny proportion of your magic. Most squibs can cast this one, even some muggles. As you use higher spells, however, you begin to use a larger quantity. For example, if someone casts expecto patronum they use quite a lot of magic. People who are less powerful often use nearly all their magic to perform this one. Some people can only do it once and are exhausted; they then have to wait for their supply to replenish. Some cannot do it at all.”
Rhiannon hair twirled again. Harry guessed it was a habit. “The more powerful witch or wizard will not use as much magic and will easily be able to continue. But even they have limits.” She seemed to direct that personally, as if to say that includes you dumbass.
“When any magical person starts to come to the end of their supply they will get I’ll and will sleep for longer as the last fraction of magic tries to replenish. If they continue to use magic, however, they will eventually run out. They will still have magic in them, every living thing does, but it will be concentrating on keeping its host alive. Some people can access this reserve of magic but I would not advise it, not even when in dire need. It will most likely kill you. But anyway, when you use up your magic supply you can no longer cast even the simplest spells. This it what we call tapped out.”
Harry ran a hand through his longish (though not compared to Rhiannon) hair. “So this is what happened to me?” He asked her. She nodded.
“When you lost control you unleashed your magic, all of it, even your reserve. Magic is wild, and though it will do our bidding, is untameable. Without something to properly channel it it will do as it wants, which is why it’s so dangerous. And not only did you release your own magic, you tapped into that which is all around us. The Earth itself is magic. Trees are a conduct for it as are plants, which is why herbs are used to heal. Our power is a gift from the Earth, but only few can tap into the magic of the Earth itself.”
She looked at him intently. “In the times of long ago people were taught to respect the Earth, to respect magic and those who could, were taught to access it. There is only one clan left who teaches these things now. Millennia ago most could access the Earths power, now it is so few.” She sounded sad as if grieving for humanities lost connection to nature. “You did that. You accessed the power, wrapped it around you until the loss of your innate magic combined with being consumed by that of the Earth made you lose control. You apparated into the countryside, goddess knows why, and we tracked you down.”
“Why? Why did you track me down? Why did you bring me here?”
“Because, hun, we are the Fallen. The last clan to teach the arts of pure magic. And, you Harry, are one of us.” She laughed. “Whether you like it or not!”
If time is never ending,
How did it begin?
If death is ever flowing,
Will we ever win?
If life is such a gift,
Why does it hurt us so?
If I die without saying I love you,
Will you ever know?
Harry slept for another two days before he fully recovered. His magic slowly returned as he lay in the in between, sometimes alone, sometimes with Tom. His strength returned last, he’d used the last reserves of that up when he talked to Rhiannon. He made a mental note to avoid getting tapped out again. It was bloody annoying!
He was alone this time and there was no sun, but a candle was burning next to him. Why people don’t just use electricity he would never understand, it was much easier. But he was eternally grateful for that little flicker of flame, the only light in what seemed eternal darkness.
He slipped out of the silk sheets, clad only in boxers, and walked over to the window to see his surroundings. The view was beautiful. He couldn’t see much, his eyes adjusting to the light change, but what he could see, the stream running through the garden, a large pond, the forest in the distance all bathed in moonlight was picturesque. He smiled, amazed that such a place could still exist when the humans had turned the world so ugly. When all that once was pure is now covered with hate and deceit and anger and lies.
He sighed, tracing the raised skin on his arm, the comforting feel of the scars under his finger pulling him out of the melancholic thoughts. He walked backwards until he hit the bed and feel onto it reaching under the pillow for his knife. It wasn’t there. Harry’s emerald eyes darted around the room searching for either his knife or the person that took it.
“Looking for this?” Harry spun round, expecting to see Rhiannon, but instead meeting black eyes glaring at him forcefully. The girl was holding his knife in her hand. His knife! Who the fuck gave her that right?
“Give it to me!” He growled stepping forward. The girl just glared harder. “No.”
“Give me my knife!” He said again.
“No.”
“Give it to me!” He screamed, power rising in him.
“No.”
“You don’t understand…” He cried brokenly.
Kya was shocked. She had never seen someone flit through emotions so quickly, from anger to despair. And the power- she could feel it from across the room, she could almost taste it. Kya could admit she was out of her depth, but when would one of the Fallen ever admit that?
Keeping the cold mask she was known for on her face, Kya assessed the boy in front of her. “Why do you want it so bad?” She asked, curiously. Harry took a deep breath, while trying to calm down and answered, “Because it’s mine.”
Kya sighed before handing him the knife, hilt first. She knew she shouldn’t but…he was so upset. Maybe she was wrong, maybe…
She started to leave the room. “Names Kya by the way.”
Harry sighed in relief. What would he have done if she wouldn’t give it to him? But he was fine now. He stared at the knife, wondering whether or not to risk it when someone approached the room.
“Harry?” He knew that voice, he was sure of it. “Harry, are you gonna answer me?”
Harry stayed silent. “I’m coming in.” She shouted. Harry watched the door warily, knife clutched in his hand, when she stepped in to the room. At first he thought he was looking at a young Bellatrix Lestrange, features perfect, reminding him with a twinge in his heart of Sirius. Then he knew.
“Elizabeth?” She laughed and rolled her eyes.
“No! The tooth fairy.” She laughed again, a massive grin on her face, before stepping forward. They hugged tightly. For Harry it was surreal. His past had just rushed full force into his present and, consequently, his future. He hadn’t expected to see her again. As far as he knew when he left for Hogwarts she was a muggle. When he met Bellatrix at the department of Mysteries, when he finally got a good look at her, he knew. Despite Azkaban having stolen all but the last remnants of her beauty, he knew. She was Elizabeth’s mother. He could tell even then.
At the time it left him to wonder. Would she and her brother turn out like their parents? Would they willingly fall into the endless decent of darkness? Harry still didn’t know why, even though Tom rarely used torture, Rodolphus and Bellatrix did what they did. What was a good reason to torture someone into insanity? What excuse was there to do what they did?
But Harry was starting to realise neither side was good, neither was bad. Yes Tom didn’t enjoy hurting and killing but he still did it. And even though Dumbledore ruined so many lives he had also done a lot of good. Harry had come to the conclusion that there was no good without evil, no evil without good. And there would never be. Without one, you wouldn’t have the other, and then what would you be left would? If there is no good or evil, what is there?
It was these thoughts that always seemed to send him searching for the safety of his knife. It was always there, was always real and always would be. It was safe. He knew it, it would never change. It was what it was, nothing more.
“What have you been all these years?” Harry asked Beth. He had looked for her when he had come back from Hogwarts after his first year but the other residents at the orphanage could only say she and her brother had disappeared. It wasn’t unusual for the kids there to run away sono one took much notice.
He had asked around but no one had any idea. After the third year he had given up. And now…here they were, or at least Beth was. He was hoping Liam was as well but…
Beth sat down on a chair cross-legged before answering. “After you left for Hogwarts me and Lee hung around for awhile, just carried on, started secondary school and all that. Then we met Rhi and Ky Tigon. I think it’s safe to say they would turn anyone’s world around but…yeah. It was around the same time we found out we weren’t muggles. We received a letter from Durmstrang, they start later then Hogwarts, and found out who we were, what we were and, of course, found out about our parents. It just so happenstheTigonshad both been marked down for Durmstrang as well. ‘Course we didn’t know that until we saw each other at the welcome feast.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Things just sorta happened after that. We’ve been best friends ever since.”
Harry was still puzzled. “Why didn’t you get a Hogwarts letter. As you were in England surely that would make more sense.”
Beth smirked. “Seems the ministry were a bit worried 'bout little ol’ me. They thought it was to dangerous to train me and Lee as we might go evil and destroy the entire world.”
Harry just raised an eyebrow before they burst out laughing. “But seriously,” Beth said, “Can you imagine me trying to take over the world? Sounds too much like hard work to me. Think of all the paper work! Eurgh!”
Harry laughed again. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed just being around Beth. Even in the worst situations she could always make you laugh. She would get on well with the Weasley twins.
“So how come you’re here?” Harry asked her when they had both stopped laughing.
“When Rhi and Ky’s guardians found out we lived in an orphanage they offered us a place to live. Goddess knows it’s big enough!” She smiled fondly. “We were initiated into the clan at the end of the summer holidays of our second year. It’s like one very big happy family. Very big considering it contains around 400 people.”
“400?” Harry exclaimed surprised.
“Yep!” Beth said proudly. “This is the biggest clan around and the most powerful it would be even more so if…” She stopped abruptly.
“If…?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She said shaking her head. “Anyway, a lot of the clan doesn’t live her. They have lives and families outside The Fallen, but there is usually around 100 people here at a time, sometimes more, sometimes less.”
“What do they do?” Harry realised he had nearly no information on the people who had found him.
“Everyone does different things.” She explained. “It depends on what their best at. Those with a good connection to the Earth, as I’m sure Rhiannon has told you, are usually healers or potions masters. Potions masters because they have to be able to feel the properties of the plants and animal…parts they are using. Some have better senses, and are weapons trainers. Those who are better at charms are often trained in spy work."
“Spying?”
Beth laughed. “Yep. The Fallen always try and have a spy in every, what would you call them…order. Say the order of the Phoenix. As they are good at charms they are best at finding information and getting around unnoticed. So, yeah, It’s all about your abilities, and everyone is good at something.”
She looked him up and down. “You should probably put some clothes on.” Beth teased, smirking. “Not that I mind the view, but you need to get out of this room. “Hurry up and I’ll show you the room. Clothes are in the door on your left.” She reached the door and stopped suddenly.
“Don’t mind Kya. She generally does things for a reason. We just don’t usually find that reason out until a long time later.”
That just left Harry even more confused then he was before.
Meanwhile…
Blood ran down his skin in rivulets, his bodies crimson tears that dripped to the floor. Drip,drip… His body was bruised and battered, but not yet broken and he would not give up until his last breath left him. He moved his hand and winced as pain yet again flashed through his nerves. The many times he had struggled had left his skin raw, peeling it until it was near the very last layer.
Sometimes he wished the manacles were sharp enough to cut his wrists on. Then he would no longer be able to tell them anything. He hadn’t yet, The Fallen took many precautions to stop anyone getting information out of them and so torture had been resorted to. He could feel where they had branded his skin with a hot iron, where they had drawn on him with knives, where they had poured acid on the cuts, where they had stuck a hot poker through his gut, making sure he survived afterwards.
“Give it up child. Tell us what we wish to know and we will end it. I swear it on my honour.”
He laughed, then chocked on the blood that filled his mouth. “Honour? You have no honour, only greed. I will not give up, I will not die.”
“Why?” The voice was curious.
“Because…” His voice was softer now, almost nonexistent so that the other person in the room had to strain to hear it.
“Because if I die without telling her, she’ll never know. She’ll never know how much I love her. She would never know…”
And as the torture began once more, he barely noticed. All thoughts were on his love, his only, his one star in a sea of darkness. Nothing would reach him anymore beyond her. Because, to him, there was nothing but her. She was all he knew.
It was a shame he couldn’t remember her name…
The link lies, I couldn't fit it all in. The Next post will be the all of it...
If I cried would you hold me, as tears cascade down my face?
If I died would you mourn me, wrapped in deaths embrace?
If I screamed would you listen, as my anguish is expressed?
If I bleed tired of living, would you love me any less?
It was light when he opened his eyes, the sun shining down, though he could have sworn he only went to bed a few hours ago. How did the time pass so quickly? Then he looked, this time taking in his surroundings, and he realized with a jolt of nervousness and excitement that he was back in the forest. Dreaming yes but he was still here. He wasn’t alone.
“Hello Harry” The voice wasn’t warm like it was before, though it wasn’t cold either. It was masking…something. Harry didn’t know what but he desperately wanted to find out, he just couldn’t bring himself to ask. So he just stared, stared deeply into Tom’s eyes, trying to figure out what emotion they hid. But it was a useless feat, Tom had perfected his mask well over the years, no one could see anything they didn’t wish him to.
Neither knew how long they stared like that, trying so hard to see what the other was thinking, but Harry broke the silence first. “What’s wrong?” He asked the Dark Lord cautiously, hoping he wouldn’t snap. Tom didn’t answer at first, only looked at him intensely. Then he said one word. “Why?”
Harry was taken aback. Whatever he had expected it hadn’t been that. Why? Why What? “I don’t understand.” He whispered, his eyes pleading with Tom to explain. In answer the other boy walked towards and knelt down in front of Harry who, once again, was sitting on the floor. Then he gently took hold of Harry’s hands and pulled them towards him, causing both Harry’s sleeves to slip down to his elbows. His cuts and scars were plain for all to see.
“Why?” Tom asked again, deep worry lacing his words this time. Harry turned away, averting his eyes. He couldn’t look, couldn’t stand to see the expression etched on the others face. “Harry…please…tell me. Please…” And that was all it took. All it took for the last of Harry’s resolve to fail him. And for the first time in many years, he broke down in the arms of another.
How long they stayed like that, Harry sobbing while Tom held him tightly, soothing his rambling apologies, once again neither knew. Time seemed limitless in this place, this between land. Eventually though Harry’s sobs subsided, but still he clung to Tom like he was the only thing anchoring him, stopping him from cracking, shattering into so many small pieces no one would be able to put him back together.
“I’m sorry…” He mumbled into the dark lords shirt. He didn’t quite know what he was sorry for. Losing control? Worrying him? Or maybe he was sorry for getting found out? But it didn’t matter; such things were inconsequential at that point in time. “Hush darling.” Tom murmured stroking Harry’s hair comfortingly, before kissing his head lightly.
Tom rubbed Harry’s wrists gently, contemplating the best way to approach the distraught angel that he held so tightly in his arms and heart. He didn’t want to risk scaring Harry into doing something drastic but he couldn’t not know what had driven him to do it, to try and take his own life.
“How?” Harry asked finally, ”How did you know?” Tom sighed then drew Harry even closer, if possible. “Your not the only one that feels the connection.” He answered, then waited a few seconds before talking again. “I didn’t know what it was the first few times I felt it. The sadness, the pain and sometimes the intense fear. I thought I was imagining it. Then one night I had a flash, a vision of sorts. And it was of you, you sat in the middle of a small room in a pale strip of light, a knife clutched in your hand, scars covering your arms. Tears flowed down your face, pretty crystalline pain, immortalized.”
He sighed again. “It didn’t last long and I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t real, that if real only so in the future. Maybe I had time to prevent it. But then yesterday I felt it, anguish so intense I nearly collapsed. And I knew…knew that it was real, that it was you, and I had to do something, anything to take that sadness away. So I did the only thing I could think of, I entered your mind. I tried to find what it was that was making you feel that way, but instead I found your mind fading, all thoughts almost gone.”
Tom buried his face in Harry’s hair momentarily, then continued speaking, seemingly comforted. “When I realized what you had done I was almost hysterical, I couldn’t lose you, not when I had only just found out what you meant to me. So I…I possessed you, barely managing to do so before your heart stopped beating. And I healed your wrists using the most complex healing spell I could think of, one that replenished some of the blood you had lost, then I left. I...I thought it was better to let you wake in your own time, to be able to think things through when you did.”
Silence followed Tom’s final words and Harry gazed at him for a few minutes before hesitantly pressing their lips together. “Thank you.” Tom didn’t answer, instead he drew Harry’s face to his and kissed him passionately as all their pent up feelings finally found an outlet.
I lost myself long ago,
In the memories of all I’ve known.
Submerged my mind in times gone past,
Learnt happiness can never last.
If I lost myself in thoughts of you,
Would my heart learn what I thought it knew?
If I entrance my mind with your body’s feel,
Would happiness for once seem real?
Harry glared at his reflection. His reflection glared back. Unfortunately this just made him angrier. After what happened last time, however, he made sure he calmed down. He really didn’t want, or need, a repeat of the smashed mirror fiasco. Sure it only took a few seconds to fix it with magic but he didn’t want to have to explain why it had smashed in the first place. As far as most of the Order was concerned he was a weak little child who was still in a tiff over Sirius’ death.
That was why they never questioned why he locked himself in his bedroom or hid in the library. They thought he was still grieving and that he didn’t want to talk because he would burst out crying or some shit like that. Yes, he was still grieving, probably a part of him always would, but it was manageable, even welcome. Sirius was a distraction. Something that stopped him flooing to Hogwarts at slitting Dumbledore’s throat. Not that I won’t still do that. Harry thought darkly. The manipulating bastard deserves it!
Now, now Harry. A melodic voice sang. What would the Gryfindors do if they heard their precious golden boy speaking about their beloved headmaster in such a way?
Harry glared at nothing. Stuff it Tom. He replied. Anyway, I wasn’t speaking out loud so unless my housemates have all become proficient at Legilimency over the holidays they need never know what I think. Tom laughed but stopped when he felt the annoyance that was apparent. I was only joking darling. He said soothingly.
Harry half smiled, he could never stay angry with the Dark Lord for long. Not since they actually had a conversation with each other. It took up to much energy. What are you doing in my head Tom? He asked curiously.
To wish you a happy 16th birthday of course! Harry cursed under his breath, not that there was anyone to hear it. With all that had happened lately he had completely forgotten his birthday. How the hell did you manage to forget your own birthday? Tom exclaimed. Harry shrugged before answering. It’s never really been that important. I have better things to think about.
Like what? Tom asked puzzled. Harry smiled slightly.
You.
“Harry?” Someone knocked loudly on the door. “You said you’d be downstairs half an hour ago!” Yes, well, that was before he had spoken to Remus. About what?
Mind your own business! Harry admonished playfully before laughing. He could feel Tom sulking at the other end of the connection. I gotta go, he said regretfully, duty calls and all that. He felt a sigh.
Alright, I’ll talk to you later.
Bye Tom.
Goodbye darling.
Finally, Harry made his way downstairs.
Lunch was surprisingly enjoyable. With Ron and Hermione’s arguing, the twin’s jokes and Mrs Weasley trying to fatten him up (‘Your too thin dear’) the impending visit slowly went to he back of his mind. Everyone wished him a happy birthday, including Tonks and Moody who came to leave a report for Dumbledore, and for once he felt almost normal. Especially when Ron shouted one word.
“Presents!”
Harry, the Weasleys and Hermione all went into the lounge where a pile of presents was sitting. Harry was momentarily stunned by the knowledge that so many people cared enough to buy him gifts. Maybe he wasn’t as alone as he thought.
From Hermione he received a book on advanced defensive and offensive spells. Apparently she had noticed that he spent a lot of the time in the Library learning battle magic so she had decided that, for once, he would actually be happy with a book. From Ron he was given a gigantic assortment of sweets that would most likely take him the entire year to eat, from the twins he got a massive bag full of jokes, Ginny gave him a snitch which she had won and the rest of the Weasleys gave him a selection of things that, while not being expensive, meant a lot more to him then solid gold.
From members of the D.A. he received books, sweets and requests for the D.A. to continue, something Harry would have to think on and Remus had given him a diary filled with stories about his parents, which Harry had thanked him for persistently.
Then he picked up the last gift, wrapped in red and gold paper. He didn’t have a clue who it was from and was amazed at what he found. A pensive.
This was something Harry had wanted since he first saw the headmaster’s. But who would give him such a thing? He picked up the note that had fluttered unnoticed to the floor and read it, curious.
He saw red.
All of a sudden the room was full of chaos. Everything made of glass had shattered showering the occupants who were luckily all, except Harry, covered by a shield. Then three people gasped simultaneously, followed by all but one as they took in the sight before them.
Harry was knelt on the floor, his expression filled with rage and his eyes wide, the green swirling. Magic was twisting around him crackling in its intensity, every so often sending jolts into back into Harry. Hermione tried to reach him but one of the twins held her back. All they could was watch and wait, wait for the magic to settle.
There were theories of course saying that magic was everywhere. That someone with enough power could manipulate it. But it was never proven and therefore became no more then a myth, with only a select few ever believing it was possible. There had been stories over the centuries of people who could wield such magic but none had ever done so in front of a large group. So they remained stories.
And as Harry felt the magic explode from his very core to join that that was around him he knew that everything was different. His life was about to become even weirder then it normally was. But the most prominent thought was this:
Dumbledore would have no idea what had hit him!
And the Angels will Fall
Why do angels fall first,
When the world starts to die,
When happiness ends,
And sorrow comes to reign?
Why do devils survive,
When the world starts to crumble,
When the bodies of the damned,
Line the future ahead?
Why does love come second,
To the darkness that grows,
To the suffocating fear,
That spread panic and discord?
Why does hate destroy worlds,
When hell comes to play,
When screams fill the air,
And tears flood the skies?
Why is day fading slowly?
And night getting so much worse?
When the world starts to die,
The angels will fall first.
Harry groaned as he awoke. He felt like shit. Complete and utter shit. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the dancing colours from his vision. But when it had cleared it still wasn’t what he had expected and he almost groaned again. This wasn’t his room, no way in hell. By the looks of it he wasn’t even in Grimauld Place. The room was too bright for a start, decorated in creams and browns which, combined with the light streaming through the window was lighter then any room in the Black family house had ever been.
He knew he should have been worried but he was too tired, too exhausted. The hum of magic that was usually so loud had gone almost silent. His magic was tapped out. Even if he had had the strength, he couldn’t have done much magicless. All he could do was hope that, for once, someone wasn’t trying to kill him. He would have laughed if he thought he could manage it. Someone was always trying to kill him, just not always the person he expected.
Harry felt his eyelids grow heavy and his mind cloud with the need for sleep. He was so, so tired. He tried to stay awake but after a brief struggle surrendered to dreamland. If he was lucky Tom would be there.
“Harry!” To his complete surprise Harry found himself pulled into a tight hug. “I was so worried!” Tom exclaimed, “No one knows where you are.” Harry wrapped his arm around the ‘Dark Lord.’ “I don’t know where I am!” He said burrowing his head into Tom’s chest and relishing the comfort he found there. “I just woke up and there I was.” Harry said shrugging his shoulders. “And no, before you ask, I‘m not hurt.”
Tom smiled slightly, amused that already Harry knew him so well. He didn’t want to show how worried he was. It had been so long since he had anybody who actually needed to be worried over. The Death Eaters could generally look after themselves and he had done everything in his power to distance himself from any would be friends or lovers.
He couldn’t stand the thought of losing someone he loved and, truth be told, he was scared. Scared that if anyone did find their way into his heart they would leave and he would be left alone and hurt. If he never fell in love, he wouldn’t have anything to compare his current loneliness to, wouldn’t spend his life reminiscing on what he had once had.
Tom had always been a solitary person anyway, though not by choice the majority of his life. Before Hogwarts he had lived in a orphanage, ridiculed for being a freak, for being clever and just because everyone needs a scapegoat. At Hogwarts he had hoped that he would finally be accepted, he was no longer a freak because of his magic. But he was sorted into Slytherin, the house everyone but it’s inhabitants hated, and even there he didn’t fit.
Why? Because he was a half blood. One magical parent, one muggle. And Slytherin, Slytherin was, and had always been, an entirely pureblood house and the Snakes, as they were known, were proud of it. But Tom ruined it. His housemates were horrified, a half blood in Slytherin? It just wasn’t allowed! No one had a reason, it just didn’t happen. So by most of his house Tom was ignored, they seemed to live by the saying if you don’t acknowledge it, it isn’t there.
Tom grew used to his none existence, spending his time in the library or planning his future. Not that this was part of it he thought. When he had finally graduated he had been given only a few years before Dumbledore proclaimed him a Dark Lord and after that he had spent all his time fighting the war. When his soul was separated from his body he had spent 13 years on his own.
But now he had Harry, or so it seemed, but always the voice at the back of his mind whispered. Harry would leave him, of course he would. Harry was young, rich, beautiful and a hero to boot. What did he have to offer him? Though he may not look it, and only the gods know why, he was old. He was old, exiled and had hurt Harry so many times, how could Harry forgive him? He could not even forgive himself.
“What are you thinking of?” Harry asked Tom, caressing his face with his left hand. Tom looked at him intently before leaning down to kiss him gently, feeling Harry smile as their lips touched. He slipped his tongue in Harry’s mouth, tasting him, his hands going to Harry’s waist to pull him closer. Harry wrapped his arms around Tom’s neck so they were flat against each other. Tom brought his left hand higher under Harry’s chest, stroking the smooth, pale skin as the other descended to Harry’s waste line reaching lower…
Harry awoke, gasping for air, to see a pair of blue eyes watching him.
Emptiness surrounds me,
In this wide realm of nothing.
As I walk a blistered, broken path,
And run in circles in my mind.
Children dance while holding hands,
Chanting rhymes and fairytales.
Fangs are bared and eyes are red,
The demon children in my head.
Harry stared shocked at the girl who was watching him, amused. She was incredibly beautiful, long blond hair fell to her knees laced with blue strands and deep blue eyes sparkled with intelligence. “Hello.” She said, smiling at him. Harry looked at her, suspicious before answering. “Hi…” He said cautiously. Her smile widened.
“I’m Rhiannon, pleased to meet you.” She said politely, curtseying after. Harry racked his brain for a suitable reply. “Pleasures all mine.” He replied somewhat awkwardly. It had been a long time since he had needed to drag such proper manners from the back of his mind.
She laughed. “Now we have the formalities over with. How are you?” She looked worried now but Harry couldn’t see why. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?” He inquired confused. “You’ve been asleep for 3 days hun, you tapped yourself out.” Harry was puzzled.
Seeing the look on his face Rhiannon explained. “Every witch or wizard has an innate supply of magic and each supply is different. No two peoples magic is the same. You following?” Harry nodded. “ Now, most magic is specialized. This is how you get people who are better at transfiguration or herbology.”
“Herbology?” Harry asked. Rhiannon nodded.
“People who are good at herbology have magic that is connected more with the Earth, so are better at lessons involving plants, animals and usually healing.” Harry thought about that. “Why healing?” Rhiannon was quiet and Harry wasn’t sure whether she’d answer or not.
“To heal you need to have knowledge and understanding of living things, not just the human body. When you heal your magic is flowing into the injured beings body, mixing with the magic there. The combined power then joins to heal. If your connection to the Earth isn’t strong enough then you will not be able to direct your magic properly, it would be more like an attack.”
“And if this happens?” Harry enquired, absorbing the information. Rhiannon sighed.
“If this happens then the beings magic will fight the healers. Nearly every time the weaker has been killed, sometimes both. Which is why anyone with half a brain doesn’t try to heal anything without training.”
“What about muggles?” He asked. Rhiannon twirled her hair round a finger.
“Contrary to popular belief muggles do have magic, their supply is just so low most don’t notice. Didn’t you ever wonder how people survive high falls, how old ladies lift cars to save their grandchildren? They are tapping into their supply of magic.”
Harry was amazed. How did she know all this? It was… wow...he had never thought…He didn’t quite understand the bit about the Earth though and decided to ask later if he was still alive.
“Right, back to you being tapped out.” Rhiannon continued. “When you cast a lesser spell, say lumos, you only use a tiny proportion of your magic. Most squibs can cast this one, even some muggles. As you use higher spells, however, you begin to use a larger quantity. For example, if someone casts expecto patronum they use quite a lot of magic. People who are less powerful often use nearly all their magic to perform this one. Some people can only do it once and are exhausted; they then have to wait for their supply to replenish. Some cannot do it at all.”
Rhiannon hair twirled again. Harry guessed it was a habit. “The more powerful witch or wizard will not use as much magic and will easily be able to continue. But even they have limits.” She seemed to direct that personally, as if to say that includes you dumbass.
“When any magical person starts to come to the end of their supply they will get I’ll and will sleep for longer as the last fraction of magic tries to replenish. If they continue to use magic, however, they will eventually run out. They will still have magic in them, every living thing does, but it will be concentrating on keeping its host alive. Some people can access this reserve of magic but I would not advise it, not even when in dire need. It will most likely kill you. But anyway, when you use up your magic supply you can no longer cast even the simplest spells. This it what we call tapped out.”
Harry ran a hand through his longish (though not compared to Rhiannon) hair. “So this is what happened to me?” He asked her. She nodded.
“When you lost control you unleashed your magic, all of it, even your reserve. Magic is wild, and though it will do our bidding, is untameable. Without something to properly channel it it will do as it wants, which is why it’s so dangerous. And not only did you release your own magic, you tapped into that which is all around us. The Earth itself is magic. Trees are a conduct for it as are plants, which is why herbs are used to heal. Our power is a gift from the Earth, but only few can tap into the magic of the Earth itself.”
She looked at him intently. “In the times of long ago people were taught to respect the Earth, to respect magic and those who could, were taught to access it. There is only one clan left who teaches these things now. Millennia ago most could access the Earths power, now it is so few.” She sounded sad as if grieving for humanities lost connection to nature. “You did that. You accessed the power, wrapped it around you until the loss of your innate magic combined with being consumed by that of the Earth made you lose control. You apparated into the countryside, goddess knows why, and we tracked you down.”
“Why? Why did you track me down? Why did you bring me here?”
“Because, hun, we are the Fallen. The last clan to teach the arts of pure magic. And, you Harry, are one of us.” She laughed. “Whether you like it or not!”
If time is never ending,
How did it begin?
If death is ever flowing,
Will we ever win?
If life is such a gift,
Why does it hurt us so?
If I die without saying I love you,
Will you ever know?
Harry slept for another two days before he fully recovered. His magic slowly returned as he lay in the in between, sometimes alone, sometimes with Tom. His strength returned last, he’d used the last reserves of that up when he talked to Rhiannon. He made a mental note to avoid getting tapped out again. It was bloody annoying!
He was alone this time and there was no sun, but a candle was burning next to him. Why people don’t just use electricity he would never understand, it was much easier. But he was eternally grateful for that little flicker of flame, the only light in what seemed eternal darkness.
He slipped out of the silk sheets, clad only in boxers, and walked over to the window to see his surroundings. The view was beautiful. He couldn’t see much, his eyes adjusting to the light change, but what he could see, the stream running through the garden, a large pond, the forest in the distance all bathed in moonlight was picturesque. He smiled, amazed that such a place could still exist when the humans had turned the world so ugly. When all that once was pure is now covered with hate and deceit and anger and lies.
He sighed, tracing the raised skin on his arm, the comforting feel of the scars under his finger pulling him out of the melancholic thoughts. He walked backwards until he hit the bed and feel onto it reaching under the pillow for his knife. It wasn’t there. Harry’s emerald eyes darted around the room searching for either his knife or the person that took it.
“Looking for this?” Harry spun round, expecting to see Rhiannon, but instead meeting black eyes glaring at him forcefully. The girl was holding his knife in her hand. His knife! Who the fuck gave her that right?
“Give it to me!” He growled stepping forward. The girl just glared harder. “No.”
“Give me my knife!” He said again.
“No.”
“Give it to me!” He screamed, power rising in him.
“No.”
“You don’t understand…” He cried brokenly.
Kya was shocked. She had never seen someone flit through emotions so quickly, from anger to despair. And the power- she could feel it from across the room, she could almost taste it. Kya could admit she was out of her depth, but when would one of the Fallen ever admit that?
Keeping the cold mask she was known for on her face, Kya assessed the boy in front of her. “Why do you want it so bad?” She asked, curiously. Harry took a deep breath, while trying to calm down and answered, “Because it’s mine.”
Kya sighed before handing him the knife, hilt first. She knew she shouldn’t but…he was so upset. Maybe she was wrong, maybe…
She started to leave the room. “Names Kya by the way.”
Harry sighed in relief. What would he have done if she wouldn’t give it to him? But he was fine now. He stared at the knife, wondering whether or not to risk it when someone approached the room.
“Harry?” He knew that voice, he was sure of it. “Harry, are you gonna answer me?”
Harry stayed silent. “I’m coming in.” She shouted. Harry watched the door warily, knife clutched in his hand, when she stepped in to the room. At first he thought he was looking at a young Bellatrix Lestrange, features perfect, reminding him with a twinge in his heart of Sirius. Then he knew.
“Elizabeth?” She laughed and rolled her eyes.
“No! The tooth fairy.” She laughed again, a massive grin on her face, before stepping forward. They hugged tightly. For Harry it was surreal. His past had just rushed full force into his present and, consequently, his future. He hadn’t expected to see her again. As far as he knew when he left for Hogwarts she was a muggle. When he met Bellatrix at the department of Mysteries, when he finally got a good look at her, he knew. Despite Azkaban having stolen all but the last remnants of her beauty, he knew. She was Elizabeth’s mother. He could tell even then.
At the time it left him to wonder. Would she and her brother turn out like their parents? Would they willingly fall into the endless decent of darkness? Harry still didn’t know why, even though Tom rarely used torture, Rodolphus and Bellatrix did what they did. What was a good reason to torture someone into insanity? What excuse was there to do what they did?
But Harry was starting to realise neither side was good, neither was bad. Yes Tom didn’t enjoy hurting and killing but he still did it. And even though Dumbledore ruined so many lives he had also done a lot of good. Harry had come to the conclusion that there was no good without evil, no evil without good. And there would never be. Without one, you wouldn’t have the other, and then what would you be left would? If there is no good or evil, what is there?
It was these thoughts that always seemed to send him searching for the safety of his knife. It was always there, was always real and always would be. It was safe. He knew it, it would never change. It was what it was, nothing more.
“What have you been all these years?” Harry asked Beth. He had looked for her when he had come back from Hogwarts after his first year but the other residents at the orphanage could only say she and her brother had disappeared. It wasn’t unusual for the kids there to run away sono one took much notice.
He had asked around but no one had any idea. After the third year he had given up. And now…here they were, or at least Beth was. He was hoping Liam was as well but…
Beth sat down on a chair cross-legged before answering. “After you left for Hogwarts me and Lee hung around for awhile, just carried on, started secondary school and all that. Then we met Rhi and Ky Tigon. I think it’s safe to say they would turn anyone’s world around but…yeah. It was around the same time we found out we weren’t muggles. We received a letter from Durmstrang, they start later then Hogwarts, and found out who we were, what we were and, of course, found out about our parents. It just so happenstheTigonshad both been marked down for Durmstrang as well. ‘Course we didn’t know that until we saw each other at the welcome feast.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Things just sorta happened after that. We’ve been best friends ever since.”
Harry was still puzzled. “Why didn’t you get a Hogwarts letter. As you were in England surely that would make more sense.”
Beth smirked. “Seems the ministry were a bit worried 'bout little ol’ me. They thought it was to dangerous to train me and Lee as we might go evil and destroy the entire world.”
Harry just raised an eyebrow before they burst out laughing. “But seriously,” Beth said, “Can you imagine me trying to take over the world? Sounds too much like hard work to me. Think of all the paper work! Eurgh!”
Harry laughed again. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed just being around Beth. Even in the worst situations she could always make you laugh. She would get on well with the Weasley twins.
“So how come you’re here?” Harry asked her when they had both stopped laughing.
“When Rhi and Ky’s guardians found out we lived in an orphanage they offered us a place to live. Goddess knows it’s big enough!” She smiled fondly. “We were initiated into the clan at the end of the summer holidays of our second year. It’s like one very big happy family. Very big considering it contains around 400 people.”
“400?” Harry exclaimed surprised.
“Yep!” Beth said proudly. “This is the biggest clan around and the most powerful it would be even more so if…” She stopped abruptly.
“If…?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She said shaking her head. “Anyway, a lot of the clan doesn’t live her. They have lives and families outside The Fallen, but there is usually around 100 people here at a time, sometimes more, sometimes less.”
“What do they do?” Harry realised he had nearly no information on the people who had found him.
“Everyone does different things.” She explained. “It depends on what their best at. Those with a good connection to the Earth, as I’m sure Rhiannon has told you, are usually healers or potions masters. Potions masters because they have to be able to feel the properties of the plants and animal…parts they are using. Some have better senses, and are weapons trainers. Those who are better at charms are often trained in spy work."
“Spying?”
Beth laughed. “Yep. The Fallen always try and have a spy in every, what would you call them…order. Say the order of the Phoenix. As they are good at charms they are best at finding information and getting around unnoticed. So, yeah, It’s all about your abilities, and everyone is good at something.”
She looked him up and down. “You should probably put some clothes on.” Beth teased, smirking. “Not that I mind the view, but you need to get out of this room. “Hurry up and I’ll show you the room. Clothes are in the door on your left.” She reached the door and stopped suddenly.
“Don’t mind Kya. She generally does things for a reason. We just don’t usually find that reason out until a long time later.”
That just left Harry even more confused then he was before.
Meanwhile…
Blood ran down his skin in rivulets, his bodies crimson tears that dripped to the floor. Drip,drip… His body was bruised and battered, but not yet broken and he would not give up until his last breath left him. He moved his hand and winced as pain yet again flashed through his nerves. The many times he had struggled had left his skin raw, peeling it until it was near the very last layer.
Sometimes he wished the manacles were sharp enough to cut his wrists on. Then he would no longer be able to tell them anything. He hadn’t yet, The Fallen took many precautions to stop anyone getting information out of them and so torture had been resorted to. He could feel where they had branded his skin with a hot iron, where they had drawn on him with knives, where they had poured acid on the cuts, where they had stuck a hot poker through his gut, making sure he survived afterwards.
“Give it up child. Tell us what we wish to know and we will end it. I swear it on my honour.”
He laughed, then chocked on the blood that filled his mouth. “Honour? You have no honour, only greed. I will not give up, I will not die.”
“Why?” The voice was curious.
“Because…” His voice was softer now, almost nonexistent so that the other person in the room had to strain to hear it.
“Because if I die without telling her, she’ll never know. She’ll never know how much I love her. She would never know…”
And as the torture began once more, he barely noticed. All thoughts were on his love, his only, his one star in a sea of darkness. Nothing would reach him anymore beyond her. Because, to him, there was nothing but her. She was all he knew.
It was a shame he couldn’t remember her name…
The link lies, I couldn't fit it all in. The Next post will be the all of it...