Outside Carlisle, England; the Malfoy Manor (local time: 7:04 AM)…
"That's enough!"
The cold, almost hissing voice made all the men and women now lying on their backs or slammed against the walls of the duelling chamber in the basement of the stately home of the House of Malfoy could only blink before they slowly began to pick themselves up and dust themselves off before they picked up their wands. Standing close to the reborn leader of the Death Eaters, Walden Macnair could only shake his head as he kept his eyes fixed on the silver-haired creature that had beaten them all low so quickly. "My Lord, what in Merlin's name IS this…this THING?!" he sputtered, keeping his wand at the ready as Miyu Greer's Mythril sword was still deployed.
An amused smirk. "A modern — some would say 'futuristic' — muggle version of a golem, just like those created by the ancient wizards of Israel to guard their settlements from attack by outside magical armies, Walden," Voldemort calmly replied as he gazed on Miyu with a look of considerable admiration. "That is how they were able to protect themselves when the Romans came to conquer them. Of course, if you ask any muggle who is a fan of science fiction, people such as our guest would be addressed as an 'android.' Or perhaps, Miss Greer, you would prefer 'gynoid?'"
"I am partial to that term, Your Grace," Miyu stated as she willed her sword back into her left arm and allowed her combat systems to return to a normal attentive state, which would still give her an advantage over these wizards, who were clearly unused to the idea of fighting anything arising from the muggle world…and LOSING in such a fight, even with their wands. "I trust the demonstration was to your satisfaction?"
"That and more, my dear," the dark lord stated. "All of you, leave us. Miss Greer is an honoured guest and she bears most interesting news that I am interested in hearing."
"But, Master…" Amycus Carrow gasped.
"GO!"
Miyu's eyebrow arched in curiosity as the dark warriors all quickly vacated from the room, bowing profusely to their leader as they sputtered out apologies for their annoying him. As soon as the last was done, Voldemort waved his hand to seal the chamber and place anti-detection charms around them so none of his followers — who were all quite eager to please him now that he HAD returned; he still seethed deep down at their unwillingness to go forth and help him after he had been disembodied in the wake of that disastrous raid on the Potters fifteen years before — could eavesdrop on this conversation. And despite his long reticence to have anything to do with the muggle world in the wake of his graduation from Hogwarts years before, he knew this was a conversation that he needed to have concerning events in the muggle world.
After all, he knew the long and convoluted history of the group that, these days, called themselves the "Searrs Foundation."
"So the HiME Festival on Fūka Island is soon to be upon us again?" he asked.
"It is, Your Grace," Miyu affirmed.
A nod. "And I assume your creators are hell-bent on trying to win the favour of the Obsidian Lord once he emerges from his realm to claim the last HiME as his bride?"
"They are."
Voldemort smirked. "Well, I wish them luck. But I doubt that the Obsidian Lord will be so willing to help normal people to usher in their so-called 'Golden Millennium.'"
"In that, I agree."
He blinked before he turned to stare intently at her with his dark crimson eyes, a nearly non-existent eyebrow arching in curiosity. "So why…?"
"Do I still support them?" Miyu asked. "Because there is an innocent child that I seek to protect, to be free of what her creators — and yes, I use that word without irony even if she is a flesh-and-blood being — intend for her in the end."
Silence.
The dark lord chuckled. "The Foundation actually CREATED their own HiME?!"
"In many ways, yes," the battle android affirmed with a nod. "But despite her powers and her now being bonded to an artificial Child that now orbits this world right over Fūka Island, she is, in the end, only eight years old, Your Grace. Compared to some of the real HiMEs that I have encountered, my charge would not last several minutes. And those other HiMEs are allied with forces that would crush the Foundation right out of existence if they felt it necessary." She then smiled. "And ironically, even if the Foundation is only now being to suspect what those forces are and how vast they are, their presence currently in Fūka will be as much a benefit for all living there on that island now, including the Childs and Orphans that come to that place from the realm of the Obsidian Lord and the HiME Star…as their sisters now living in YOUR society will be to all the beings that call the wizarding world home."
Voldemort stared at her for a moment, and then he hummed before sitting back on his throne. "Of what do you mean, Miss Greer? I have not noticed any marked increase in wizards or witches anywhere in Britain since I returned to these shores."
Miyu lightly smiled. "Your Grace, did not the Marquess or Lady Malfoy inform you of the events that occurred at Hogwarts three years ago, when the Chamber of Secrets was opened?"
The dark lord's eyes narrowed. When he had learned what had ultimately befallen his old high school diary, he had tortured Lucius Malfoy for a half-hour with the Cruciatus Curse (and a few other inventive spells) for his blundering, even if the lord of the manor he currently resided in had no real idea what that diary had contained. "I do remember that for a very short time, all the girls in the second year that term were frozen by Master Salazar's basilisk. But they recovered shortly afterward by means which was never really explained, even to the officials of the Ministry of Magic."
"You are aware, of course, that Harri Evans is, in fact, Harry Potter."
A nod. "I am," Voldemort confirmed as his mind replayed what had happened the previous spring at the cemetery close to his late father's family home…
Outside Little Hangleton, England; late the previous June…
"C-c-Cedric…?"
A wide-eyed Harri Evans could only stare in disbelief as the Hogwarts champion's head rolled to one side, not even a final breath escaping him; he had just been killed by a well-aimed Avada Kedavra thanks to Peter Pettigrew. As numb hands allowed his body to slide off her thighs to collapse to the cold dirt under her, laughter filled the air around her as the several dozen masked and robed wizards and witches all cheered their reborn leader's quick action concerning the seventh-year student that had been brought here by the portkey hidden in the Triwizard Trophy that had been in the middle of the maze near Hogwarts for the contestants to navigate. Tears flowed down Harri's face as she gazed at the first person to die in her arms — even if she wasn't the one who was responsible for killing him, as she had (in a way) been with a certain possessed DADA professor three years before — and then she blinked as the laughter seemed to fade.
"Again, you seem to cross my path, Miss Evans," that hissing yet quite noble voice echoed from behind her, which made her slowly turn around to gaze on the pale, almost indecently thin man now standing nearby, dressed in a plain black robe that didn't hide the emaciated face with its lack of nose, much less any sort of body hair, pierced by a pair of blazing crimson red eyes. "First the matter with the Philosopher's Stone in your first year and now this. And from what Wormtail tells me, you were there in your third year, seeking to save his former housemate from the Dementors. Why?"
Harri blinked, and then she smirked as she allowed her wand to slide into her hand. "Godric's Hollow, Magister Riddle. Fifteen years ago this coming Hallowe'en."
Voldemort stiffened on hearing this girl call him by his despised family name — though a small part of him was actually touched that she had addressed him by the old Latin title for "master," which was only used these days for those who had earned multiple post-NEWT masteries in any subject (which he had during his years wandering Earth after graduating from Hogwarts) — and then his mind focused on what she had said before she mentioned his proper title. And the date she also mentioned…
"It can't be…"
The dark lord glanced over to Peter Pettigrew, who was now staring in wide-eyed shock at the young girl as she slowly stood up and turned to face her parents' murderer. As the rat-faced former Marauder began to shake his head, a mixture of horror and joy flashing in his eyes, the girl then glanced at him, mirthlessly smiling.
"It is, Uncle Peter," the girl born a boy then said.
Laughter.
"Harry Potter…"
As the assembled Death Eaters all gaped in shock and stared in disbelief at the young woman standing in their midst, Voldemort could only laugh. "Oh, well done! WELL DONE, Albus!" he then yelled out to the night. "Well done, indeed…!"
"Merlin…I heard muggles killed him," Lancelot Jugson breathed out.
"My son…desires Potter as his wife…?" Lucius Malfoy gasped.
"But how…?" Marcus Gibbon demanded.
Harri sighed. "Would you excuse me for a moment, please, sir?" she asked Voldemort before she waved her wand around. "POTENTIO MUTIPLO MORSMORDRE CRUCIO!"
Voldemort jolted as all the Death Eaters around him screamed out in blood-curling agony as they dropped their wands and grabbed their inner left forearms, where the Dark Mark was located. Stunned to see them all crying out like that, he chuckled before he waved his own wand towards Peter. "POTENTIO MUTIPLO MORSMORDRE STUPEFY!" he barked out, which cancelled out Harri's attack on the Dark Mark using the Cruciatus Curse with a simple stunning spell, which put the others all to sleep. "Interesting spell…"
"I don't hate you, Tom," Harri then stated as she shifted herself over to better protect Cedric's body. "And I don't hate any of them, even Uncle Peter. I could never use the Unforgivables on a living being even in the worst set of circumstances." She then glared at him. "What I hate is what you turned yourself and all of them into. What I hate is what that mark on all their arms; that is why I put Morsmordre before Crucio in that spell. And yes, I could kill them through their Dark Marks using the Killing Curse. But many have children and relatives attending Hogwarts now and having my schoolmates mourn the deaths of your followers — even if they did fundamentally understood what killed them — will hurt me as much as it would them."
A disgusted snort. "A foolish weakness, Harri…"
"No," she countered. "You don't see it, do you?"
"See what?"
"You told me back in first year, 'There's no good and evil. There's only power…and those who are too weak to seek it,'" Harri quoted the dark lord as she gazed at him. "Funny thing is, the very summer after you told me that, I learned something that burned right to the very depths of my soul. Something I can never escape from. Not even if you struck me down this evening. In a way, Tom, you're right." The dark lord felt a slight shiver race through him as a strange lilt entered the voice of the Girl-Who-Was-The-Boy-Who-Lived as she said, "In the eyes of Eternity, there is no good. There is no evil. There is power. There are those who do not or cannot see it. There are those who see it, yet reject it. There are those who do see it and seize it." A smile. "Like you, Master Riddle." She then smiled as she took an at-ease position that Voldemort was quick to realise was the standard stance one preparing for a duel took. "And there are those who see it yet choose to use it only when necessary."
"A pity then," the dark lord then said as he nodded, bracing himself. "You could have been the greatest of my followers, Miss Ev-…no! Miss Potter! But sadly, prophecy hangs over us and I can't abide to have you live!"
"A pity you can't see past that prophecy," she affirmed, nodding. He was quick to see the flash of disappointment in those vibrant green eyes of hers. "Shall we dance?"
His hairless eyebrow arched. "You've been taught the forms?"
"Professor Flitwick's taught them to me."
Voldemort nodded. "So be it…"
"Your Grace…?"
Voldemort blinked for a moment before he turned to gaze at Miyu. "What is she?"
An eyebrow arch. "Miss Evans, you mean?"
A nod. "Yes. When we duelled last June, Harri showed a remarkable level of skill and quite creative spell-casting that shouldn't have come just from four years of teaching, even IF Flitwick's taught her duelling on the side. How is it she's so strong?"
"No doubt, her being an Avalonian helps."
Silence.
"Avalon…?" the dark lord asked. "She is touched by the old gods…?"
"No, an alien race."
More silence.
"What…?" Voldemort breathed out, his eyes widening.
"You are not aware of recent events in Canada, I believe," Miyu stated.
"Tell me," he bade her.
And she did…
Later (local time: 9:22 AM)…
"Is that thing…gone?!"
Narcissa Malfoy blinked before she turned to gaze at her husband, who was seated across from her at the dining room table. Lucius had retreated to his private chambers after the gynoid — it was hard to think of such a well-mannered sentient being like Miyu Greer as just a "thing;" despite what she was under her skin, she had behaved with simply impeccable manners, even going so far as to present a very expensive gift to the Malfoy family as a whole when she had been apparated in from Diagon Alley by Alecto Carrow — had been taken down to the duelling room to meet with the Dark Lord and his followers, not saying a word to her when he and his friends had emerged afterward, with most of the other of the Dark Lord's followers returning to their own private homes. "Yes, Miss Greer just left a few minutes ago; Helena was more than happy to take her back to London," she said before sipping her tea. "A quite unique being, she is."
He shuddered. "She is a monster…"
"Lucius, enough."
He jolted on hearing that voice, and then turned to bow low to Voldemort. Narcissa — who, while she personally did not care for the idea of having this being inside her family home, had been raised in the proper forms by her parents — quickly rose as she waved to the nearby tea set. "Would you care for some refreshments, My Lord?"
A nod. "My thanks to you, Narcissa, but I am not thirsty at this time. Actually, if I may beg of a few minutes of your time, I have some matters to discuss with you."
A polite smile. "Of course, sir. Do excuse us, my husband."
Voldemort smiled as he offered his arm to her. She slipped her arm around his and they proceeded out of the dining room into the reception room. The dark lord quickly set up privacy wards before he guided her to a chair before moving to sit down across from her. "You have met Miss Evans before, have you not, Narcissa? I am aware that your son finds her quite infatuating, especially since she is a sister Slytherin."
"I have had that privilege, My Lord. She is truly a Slytherin in the proper way Master Salazar wanted all his heirs to live their lives," she affirmed with a nod. "Despite the actual circumstances of her birth and the utter horror of her upbringing, she was quick to rise to the challenge being in our old house presented to her and she has succeeded with both considerable cunning and guile." A smile. "And even a remarkable show of Gryffindor-ish courage and bravery when needed, not to mention Hufflepuff loyalty and Ravenclaw intelligence." The smile slipped as she gave him a knowing look. "I know what she truthfully is in spirit, My Lord."
"Does that offend you? Especially given Draco's interest in her?"
"Truthfully not at all," she admitted. "While I am unaware as to how on Earth James and Lily's son was transformed into becoming their daughter when Harry Potter was reported to have 'died' five years ago, I am happy at least that the woman that now calls herself Harri Evans is more than willing to leap past all the social barriers that restrained all of us when we were at Hogwarts. All the witches in her year at school now all owe her Magical Life Debts due to the matter with the Chamber in their second year; I know not how that happened. Malcolm and Violet's daughter Pansy won't answer any questions about that when they asked her. And they've tried several times."
A nod. "Miyu has provided me with the answer to that question."
She gaped. "How?"
He gave her a knowing look. "You have an interest in muggle entertainment, Narcissa." On seeing her eyes widen in panic, the dark lord laughed. "Oh, pay it no mind, my dear. I have no care for your private hobbies." He then stared at her. "But what I need you to do is learn of recent news from Canada concerning aliens — REAL aliens not from Earth — coming to our world within the last several days. I need to know everything you can obtain about that story, Narcissa. It may explain some other things Miyu told me of."
Silence.
"Merlin…are you saying…Harri's…?"
"In body, yes," he responded. "From what I understand, these beings — they call themselves 'Avalonians,' ironically — have the ability to clone bodies to allow the souls of those who are dying to be given a chance at new life. As was obviously done to Harry Potter when he became Harri Evans five years ago." He did not see Narcissa's eyes widen slightly as she took in his words. "No doubt, it was that very same process that allowed Harri to revive her classmates in second year when they were frozen by Master Salazar's guardian." A chuckle. "It's well thought out, I must confess. And truly Slytherin of Harri. Still, we need to know what this will mean for all of us."
A nod. "I will certainly try to understand what happened and why, My Lord."
"You have my thanks."
And with that, the dark lord dispelled the silencing charms and then walked out of the room. Narcissa remained in place, her mind racing as a memory came back…
London, King's Cross Station, near the end of the previous June…
"Aunt Cissa!"
Narcissa blinked on hearing that cheerful voice, and then she turned to see a familiar young woman come up to her. Quickly setting her face into a neutral mask — which was quite easy for her given her many years of experience when it came to projecting a certain demeanour to others depending on the situation she faced — she then nodded politely as Harri Evans walked up to her. "Miss Evans," she said as she gave her a polite smile; Draco was still some distance away, currently being escorted by his two closest companions, Vince Crabbe and Greg Goyle. "A tragic thing to happen to Mister Diggory, would you not agree?" she then asked as the redhead came up to her.
A nod. "Yes, it is," Harri said with a touch more emotion than what would be seen as proper from an adult Slytherin. Well, she would learn how to better mask herself in the future, Narcissa realised. "Oh, I have a present for you."
The matriarch of the Malfoys gaped. "What?! I…"
She then blinked as a beautiful crystal ball — about the size of a Golden Snitch without the wings — was placed into her hand. On contact, Narcissa then jolted as a warmth flooded her from head to toe, nearly making her knees buckle as the suddenness of the moment overwhelmed her. Before she could jerkily react, much less drop the ball, a hand then steadied her arm. "I'm sorry," Harri then said in a soothing voice, which made Narcissa gaze in confusion at her, she then quickly noting the apology in the girl's eyes. "I didn't realise you would react so strongly to it."
"What is this?"
"A wishing crystal," Harri then said as she let go of the older woman's arm. It was only then that Narcissa was quick to note the younger woman's voice was lower than normal. "I know what you lost in the last war, Aunt Cissa. Think on that…and you will have what you lost back, if only in spirit. And when you do, contact me." She then smiled as Narcissa gazed in confusion at her. "You'll have it then in body." With a polite bow of her head and upper body, she then headed off.
Narcissa watched her go, and then gazed down on the crystal…
The matriarch of the Malfoys then blinked on hearing a tapping at one of the reception room windows. Turning around, she then gaped on seeing a very familiar snowy owl standing at the windowsill, a wrapped letter tied to one of her legs.
"Hedwig…?" Narcissa then whispered as we now…
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(Posted Fri, 28 Jan 2011 01:16)
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