Arriving At The Funeral
Nevra glanced up from Dumbledore's retreating back to the clock hanging above her door. It was nearly time. She quickly changed into appropriate attire and donned the Death Eater mask. She would remove it after the formalities of the funeral ceremony…but since this was a Dark Funeral, formal attire was required during the actual ceremony. She stepped away from her desk holding the invitation and stood in the center of the room.
At the appointed time, she was whisked away in a flash of dark-green smoke…trademark color of the Parkinson family, just as silver was the Malfoy's and sapphire the Zabini's. Every pureblood family had a color - the Weasleys were a most atrocious shade of magenta, that clashed terribly with their (also trademark) red hair.
She arrived at a large banquet hall where the entire family was arranged to greet the guests. Slowly she went down the line from Mr. Parkinson Sr. to all the men in the family down to the smallest boy. Then she came face-to-face with Mrs. Elenia Parkinson pale-blue eyes…Pansy's mother. There was no flash of recognition so Nevra could only presume that her mask hid her identity…or that Mrs. Parkinson was drugged or spelled into submission. It was not unheard of, and quite accepted if done in a private manner among the Dark Side. One could not have one's family members endangering position in the Hierarchy…all the more important when your family was part of the Inner Circle.
After she got through the line and the silent bows of the family, she turned to the front of the banquet table. The coffin's heavy satin cover was black and across it were slashes of the family color (in this case dark green)…the more slashes, the higher the rank of the family member within. Even in death, ranks were important. As sole heir to the original bloodline of an ancient, pure (and very rich) family, Pansy Parkinson had slashes from top to bottom…something in which she would have taken pride.
Even above the pedestal upon which the coffin lay was a dark throne made of mahogany. The Dark Lord had already taken his place above his followers…even the Dead did not break bonds with the Dark Side, and still were below their Lord. The irony was vivid in Nevra's mind. Death was supposed to be the final Freedom yet even it did not break the bond of the Dark Side. Would she, as well, carry this burden, even though her pledges had never meant a thing to her? Did it really make a difference?
While she was observing the room, Death Eaters came into the hall in a controlled stream. So lost in her thoughts was she that she did not notice the many whispers beginning as she walked by, the half-hidden glances turned her way. And in the Dark Side, unawareness is a mistake that can not be made.
When everyone had arrived the Dark Lord clapped once. All noise stopped and the eerie silence broke through Nevra's thought as the muted whispers never had. She bowed low with everyone else as the Dark Lord stood.
"Rise, followers." The rustle of robes was the only response as Death Eaters stood en masse.
"We gather here today to mourn the passing of Pansy Parkinson, sole heir of the Parkinson family, for whom I have the utmost respect. I pass on my regrets and my trust that their sorrow will not intrude upon their loyalty to the Cause." The obvious threat in his voice brought shivers to some in the family, but Parkinson Sr. nodded firmly, his eyes alight with the slight sheen of madness.
"Not even Death can separate the bond between us, Master." Voldemort nodded briskly, the concern quickly brushed away…like the murder of the woman now lying before him.
The thought quickly brushed through the blank void in Nevra's mind, like water trickling down glass. I wonder whether he is even a bit human anymore. What word will they invent to describe this…thing? Who has no conscious, feels no remorse? Who drowned so deeply in the Dark Side that he lost himself, his soul? Is he Lucifer reincarnate? He could have been a great wizard, had he not turned away from the Light. Now he is just a monster.
"I call Nevra to give Pansy's address." Nevra gave a slight start at the Dark Lord's words, cloaked by her robes. Inside she was full of turmoil, but one learned to control emotions in this world. She was a powerful Occlumens, as required to be a spy in front of the Dark Lord, but she had the sudden fear that he had broken into her thoughts as she walked through the crowd of masked faces. They parted for her, backing away as if she was dangerous. Only one remained her path, silver eyes sharp as steel. She knew who he was and held her head up, challenging him. Draco stood firm, still blocking her path. She stared him in the eyes, willing him to let her pass. To keep himself out of the Dark Lord's bad favor. Out of danger.
Suddenly his mask broke and worry flashed in his eyes, turning them stormy for an instant. He parted his lips as if to say something, then took a deep breath and stepped back, leaving the way clear to the pedestal on which the Dark Lord stood.
She slowly calmed her mind and straightened her stance, then walked to the pedestal, knowing not what came next. But whether it be ruin or victory, she would face them with a steady hand and iron confidence.
A Failed Attack
Dumbledore headed straight to the portrait of Broderick the Bold after he left Ginny's office. He needed to talk to the man this war depended upon…Harry Potter. The portrait said jauntily, "Good Morning, Headmaster!" as it swung open, its merry manner contrasting greatly with his regret and despair.
Harry Potter was sprawled across a cozy red leather loveseat across from a crackling fireplace, reading a book. He glanced up when Dumbledore strode into the room and looked at the old man's tired face.
"Tea, Albus? You look like you need a cup."
"Yes, thank you, Harry. I do."
They sat in silence for a while, the comfortable silence of two men who know more about one another than any other person in the world. Two destined to stand alone for a cause that they know is right. Two whose destinies are all that matter…not feelings, not thoughts…just the purpose they are meant to fulfill. Two men, upon whose shoulders, the world rests.
Dumbledore sighed. "Well, I did come here for a purpose besides your company, much as I regret it. You and Ginny Weasley must meet soon."
Harry grimaced. "Does Molly know? I am afraid she may never let me back in the Burrow again." He said half-jokingly.
Dumbledore looked at him seriously. "It truly doesn't matter, and you know it. Molly will do what she wants, but this meeting needs to happen. If this attack - if it fails - the Light will, well, it will never recover. The Dark Side will then have the advantage. And if they are so close to beating us even at a point of disadvantage, I shudder to think what they will be capable of at a point of advantage."
Harry looked taken aback. "What's all this, Dumbledore? Suddenly negative? Suddenly doubting? Our plan will work. We've been over it a hundred times. There is no way it can fail."
Dumbledore sighed. "And that's our problem. Ginny herself pointed it out to me. We are getting overconfident. We can not afford stupid mistakes. The Dark Side is gaining power magically, even if they are losing numbers. They may equal us within a year. We must beat them soon. We must make the defining stroke that will stop them where they stand. Or we will not win."
Harry asked hesitantly, "But isn't that what this is all about? The final destruction of Voldemort?"
Dumbledore said, "Yes. But it can fail, like all attacks can fail. Did I ever tell you about the Innocuroso Charm?"
Harry said interestedly, "No. Why?"
"It's an interesting spell. When Salazar Slytherin was placed beneath it, it broke the Hogwarts Four. There is no Binding Spell that can defeat it. Voldemort was bound with it as well, to the same organization as Slytherin, but he broke the Binding. But anyways, the Dark Side only has the words to the spell and the basic meaning of what it does to the bound wizards and witches. We, however, have the full text in a secret vault that no one has privy to anymore…it's just too dangerous of a spell. But there is something hidden in that spell that no one knows about anymore…except maybe Voldemort himself…something that could destroy magic itself, or could make it strong enough to overcome anything."
"And your point is…" Harry said exasperatedly.
"Well, there was once a battle plan that involved the Innocuroso Charm. Infallible really. We used Tom Riddle before he became Voldemort as a spy on the Mysticus organization…before he became Voldemort. He was bound to them with it, but then was rebound to us with it as well. Meaning he was loyal to our Cause before theirs, so he could spy on them for us and they would trust him because he was also bound to them. Only that Binding was secondary to the Binding to the Light. Turns out, that the double Binding didn't work. Instead it made him immune to the Spell forever. That is how he broke his binding to Mysticus. In addition to breaking the Bind, it turned him against the causes he was bound to as well. A failed attack plan of the Light resulted in the creation of Voldemort, the greatest threat to the survival of Light since Morgana and Merlin battled."
"And now it's me and Voldemort."
"And we cannot fail this time. We can not fail…or we are doomed to the Dark."