Disclaimer: I own nothing! Except, again, for Anton! He's mine, damn it! (cackles gleefully)

Author's Note: I just want to say, before anyone fills my reviews with it, that I am one of those HP fans that pretends OotP never happened. If you disagree with that outlook, I respect that, but please leave me to my delusions. I like the happy little castle of denial that I live in, alright?

Summary Note: This was written as a challenge given to me by a friend, portraying the 'Ice and Fire' aspect of DxG that some say is overused, but that we say is simply classic. It's different, much different, than most 'Ice and Fire' fics, so beware. This is dedicated to Mystick, who set the rules in her usual bitchy way and then begged shamelessly for a glimpse of an underwater palace. Oh, and, um…(looks around shiftily)…this is DxG, but done my favorite way, lol. Oh, you'll see. But I just couldn't leave him out, so all hail the Molidon! Alright, I'm officially done rambling! On to the story!

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Harry remembered. Sitting in a dank cell, miles under the earth, many things came back to him. Memories of years gone by, of the mistakes they had all made. How did it come to this? Oh yes, he remembered everything...

Flashback:

Ginny changed in her sixth year. No one could figure out why, and she definitely wasn't offering to explain. He knew something was wrong as soon as he stepped onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters that September. Mrs. Weasley was trying her hardest not to cry, 'Mione was crestfallen, and Ron looked as though the earth was no longer solid underneath his feet. When they had all gotten settled in their compartment on the train, Harry asked what was wrong. Ron looked up, hurt and confusion written plainly on his freckled face.

"It's Ginny. She...I dunno, Harry, she's changed. She's been drawn and quiet since her second year, but this is different. She won't talk to any of us, just stares at us with the coldest look in her eyes. She won't answer to Ginny anymore, only to her real name, Virginia. Mum's been crying all summer and even Bill and Charlie are down over this, and they're not as close to her, you know? For the love of the gods, she called Dad a blood-traitor when he got onto her one night for being so distant and rude to all of us and sneaking off for hours on end to gods-know-where! None of us knows what to think, just wait 'till you see her..." He trailed off with a miserable expression on his face.

And Harry did see her. When they sat down in the Great Hall after arriving for the welcoming feast, he saw her come in, alone. None of her friends were with her, and Ginny had changed. She'd always worn her hair up, but now it flowed freely down her back to her waist in fiery ringlets. There was not a drop of red or gold to be seen on her robes or cloak, and he didn't know how she'd even gotten them, as they had to have cost a fortune. They were made of rich, black velvet and molded to her body, which had definitely filled out over the summer.

Thick black kohl circled dark, smoky gray eyes. He'd never even noticed the color of them before, but they were like gems that could no longer be ignored. Her full lips were painted a blood red color, almost black, one that showed just how pale she really was, and he swore he could see blood racing underneath that creamy skin. And she must have used a spell or a charm, for no freckles dusted across her nose any longer. She was enchantingly beautiful. She stood tall, with her head high, and he noticed that all of the Slytherins were watching her, but then again, so was almost everyone else.

And that's when they got one of the biggest shocks of their lives. She did not walk towards them, but turned and headed the other way. They made to say something, but the protests died in their throats as Draco Malfoy stood and walked up to her. Ron went for his wand, while the rest of the students in the Great Hall were watching avidly as Malfoy placed his hands on her shoulders. Silver and green appeared where the gold and red trim on her robes should have been, a Slytherin crest where Gryffindor's should have lain on her right breast, and he felt ill.

He expected her to shove him away, scream obscenities, but instead, a malicious smile spread across her face and she wrapped a hand in all of that silver hair, kissing him roughly. Through the disbelief swirling in his head, Harry glanced at the Staff table. Dumbledore and McGonagall had sad, resigned looks on their faces, and he wanted to scream at them to make this stop. He turned back and saw the others' mouths separate, feral grins on both their faces. Through the dead silence in the Hall, they turned and walked to the Slytherin table, the Slytherins automatically making room for her.

She sat next to Malfoy, who had Theodore Nott and two other tall Slytherins beside him, while Blaise Zabini, Anton McGregor and a very tan Slytherin were beside her. Zabini kissed her when she and Malfoy sat down, and then whispered something in her ear that made her laugh. Pansy, Millicent and two other Slytherin girls sat across from them, looking smug, while Zabini's eyes traveled the Hall in a glare that made the other students immediately drop their gazes. Harry finally tore his own eyes away and saw that Ron had lost it, tears running down his face, which had turned a sick green color.

The rest of the student body simply stared in open-mouthed shock. The sorting began, but no one really paid attention. The same thought ran through everyone's mind. What the hell happened to Ginny Weasley? Over the next few weeks, they partially found out as they saw a very different Ginny. A Ginny who ruled the Slytherins as Malfoy and Zabini's right hand. A dark, terrifying Ginny. A Ginny who seemed to dissect you with a single glance of those beautiful, malevolent eyes.

It became very clear that the only people she would even waste time on were the other Slytherins, since she was one now, and Malfoy and Zabini were the only people that she truly seemed to trust. Whispers circled madly that she had taken the Dark Mark with them over the summer, and that everyone had best stay away from her for fear of angering the Slytherins, especially Zabini and Malfoy, for she was their jewel. Ron tried to talk to her, but could never get close enough. Every time he attempted to get near her, he was turned away by a tide of green and silver.

Then one day, she came and dumped a pile of ashes at his feet.

"Tell that mudblood-loving bitch to quit writing me. She's no mother of mine, as she'll soon see."

Then she turned on her heel and left, Malfoy and Zabini laughing cruelly at Ron's broken expression. A month or so after school had started, a large herd of unicorns passed by and stopped at Hogwarts, and the entire student body was called onto the grounds to see them. 'Mione was petting a colt on the head when the lead stallion cried out. We turned to see Malfoy, Ginny and Zabini standing slightly apart from the other Slytherins, the lead mare in front of them, shaking visibly.

Their eyes were locked onto the unicorn's, and it was backing away, sweat rolling off of it. The stallion charged at them, then pulled up short less than a yard away, rearing. It screamed again, eyes rolling wildly, and bolted, causing the other unicorns to stampede after it. Every eye locked onto the three standing there so calmly, so coldly, and they laughed. So yes, their Ginny, the old Ginny, was dead, and the new one was horrid. The weeks turned into months, and right before the Yule break was to start, Ron came stumbling into their dorm, a letter clenched in his bloodless fingers.

"Harry...oh gods..." He fell on his bed, trembling.

"Ron? What is it?" Harry asked, running to him.

"Oh Harry, she's...she's gone to the M-Ministry and declared herself eman—emancipated from our f-family. She's b-been adopted in-into another one." Harry's blood ran cold at his words.

"What? How? Won't your parents have to agree?"

"No. Wizarding law allows it to be her choice as long as she's over sixteen, and has another family supporting her. And she does, Harry, she has the two most powerful families..." His voice broke. "Mum just sent me the letter, it was final today. The Malfoys and the Zabinis, along with their lawyers, backed her. She is now Virginia Zabini." He sobbed raggedly, putting his head in his hands.

"Why Zabini and not Malfoy?" Harry asked stupidly, not knowing what else to say. He couldn't remember ever seeing Ron cry like this before, and the mean, cynical little voice in the back of Harry's head wondered why he was so torn up about it, when he'd rarely had the time of day for her before all of this had started.

"Because they're fucking engaged! She'll be a Malfoy soon enough!"

Harry didn't see what difference it made which of the families she was with, really. It was obvious that Malfoy, Ginny and Zabini were all lovers, so he didn't suppose it really mattered which name she took. The entire school knew by the next morning, and the enormous diamond on her hand confirmed it. She went home with Malfoy and Zabini for Yule, and came back with a ton of precious jewels and expensive gifts, and even more darkness in her gaze. The only time he saw her eyes show anything besides disgust and hatred was when she was with her new 'brother' Zabini, and Malfoy, of course.

There was love there for them, and it was a fierce love, one that she seemed to dare people to mock. Which no one did, because they all wanted to stay alive and in one piece. The same love could be seen from them, and he knew that they would kill for her. If they hadn't already, that is. And they seemed to have another surprise for the rest of them. One day, they just stopped using their wands altogether. They offered no explanation, and no one dared to ask for one. They had been feared before, but...Only a dozen of the most powerful wizards ever known have had the ability, and only fools would cross them now.

And they had more to worry about than just that. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match was coming up, and Ginny was, surprisingly (or maybe not so surprisingly), a Beater. An extremely vicious one. Slytherin had completely slaughtered Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, just like the years before but even more savagely. And Malfoy, well, Malfoy was more of a challenge since the year before when he'd beaten Harry for the Quidditch Cup. Harry would never forget that day. His luck seemed to have run out. It was behind him, no more than two feet away, and he hadn't seen it. Malfoy had.

It reminded him of the first game they'd ever played, but the roles were reversed. And after Draco had won, he didn't even gloat. He just looked at Harry with dead eyes, completely emotionless, and grinned coldly as the Slytherins rushed the field. And, Harry thought, Ginny disappeared that night. He realized he'd been staring at the back of her head while thinking, her red ringlets very visible even from across the Great Hall, and looked away, only to meet Zabini's violent blue eyes. The Slytherin stared at Harry as if he were an insect, and then leaned over and whispered something to Malfoy.

End Flashback

Gods, it was cold down here. The little bit of food that he was given barely kept him alive, so it definitely wasn't enough for his body to keep up a healthy temperature even if it had been warmer. Which it wasn't. And the fucking memories wouldn't stop.

Flashback:

The Quidditch match was a nightmare. Ginny and Blaise were the Slytherin Beaters, and they ripped through Gryffindor brutally. Their Chasers were well trained and kept scoring on Ron like there was no tomorrow, and he was a pretty good Keeper. Even if Harry caught the snitch, he wasn't sure that they would win. He looked down in time to see Ron trying to shout to Ginny through the noise. She smiled, an odd, scary smile, and sent a Bludger slamming straight into his face, her red hair flaring like a banner of blood around her.

The whistle sounded, and he could see the Slytherins on their feet, cheering. Madam Pompfrey fixed Ron's face as best she could, and he climbed determinedly back onto his broom, still covered in his own blood. They were given three penalty shots, and none of them made it past Nott, who had been their Keeper since the year before and was amazingly limber in the air. Anton scored again, passing to Pansy, and before Harry knew what was happening, Malfoy went into a two hundred and fifty foot nose-dive for the ground.

He followed, screaming in his head for his broom to go faster. The ground and Malfoy both seemed so far away, too far away, and he cursed himself, because it galled something horrible for Malfoy to have surpassed him at the only thing he'd ever been better at then him. He saw one of Gryffindor's Beaters knock a Bludger at Malfoy, but he swerved around it gracefully, never slowing down. Harry wasn't so lucky. Ginny's Bludger hit him in the chest and shoulder just as Zabini's slammed into his leg. He barely held onto his broom, barrel rolling through the air, his collarbone and knee broken.

Then shrieks and screams of delight came from the Slytherins, and he felt ice form in his gut. Malfoy had caught the snitch less than two yards from the ground, coming out of the death-defying dive and hopping off of his broom as nimbly as a cat. Ginny and Zabini landed next to him first, and they kissed him wildly, right there on the field, a thousand eyes glued to them. When they broke apart, Ron heaving into one of the trashcans behind them, Malfoy held the game Snitch out to them, his eyes glowing like a man possessed. And their eyes mirrored his.

End Flashback

It got so much worse from there. These memories were killing him, slowly eating him alive like a deadly poison, and not for the first time, he wished for the sweet release of death.

Flashback:

Slytherin won the next match against them as well, taking the Quidditch and House Cups. Ron once again tried to talk to his sister, to no avail. Until one day, he caught her in a rare moment alone, in one of the many hallways. Harry was with him and tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen. He was convinced his innocent little sister was still in there somewhere. Ha. Virginia Zabini was anything but innocent. A blind man could see that. He ran up to her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her around. Bad, bad idea. Her eyes blazed darkfire and a hiss escaped her lips.

"Get - your - disgusting - fucking - hands - off - of - me!" She growled, prying his fingers back until he screamed as they broke. She lifted a hand and he flew into the wall.

"What the fuck is going on?" Malfoy's silky voice said as he came around the corner. Harry had discovered that he was at his most dangerous when his voice got so quiet and smooth like that, and an involuntary shiver crept down his spine. There was something seriously fucking wrong with all of them.

"Nothing, we were just leaving," Harry said, not sure that it was wise to draw their attention. But draw it he did. Their gazes slid over him like liquid scorn and he flinched, not liking the looks in those eyes at all.

"Really?" Malfoy drawled, his tone even lower than before. Harry nodded and went to kneel next to Ron.

"Stupid git." He whispered to him. "Stupid bloody git. I told you not to. Why can't you leave it alone?"

"Well," Malfoy said, his voice cutting like a knife, "he had better learn his place, and soon. He lays another finger on her and he'll wish I'd killed him." Harry didn't know how Malfoy had heard him, and wasn't sure he wanted to know. Ginny's, no, Virginia's voice floated to him like a tainted caress.

"One day, dear Golden Boy, you will both know your place. You will scream for hours, begging for the pain to stop, begging for your friends to be spared. And as you watch each of them die, you will die slowly with them, you filthy fucking halfblood." Then she turned, spitting on her brother, and glided away.

Zabini stepped from the shadows behind him, and Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. Fear shot through him, because he hadn't even known the other Slytherin was there. Zabini gave him a knowing look, one that clearly told Harry he was aware of his fear, and that he would never have seen him had he not wished it. There was a warning there, too, a warning to stay the fuck away from Virginia. Harry nodded shakily, as he had no intention of ever going near her again. Zabini and Malfoy followed her down the passageway, their mocking laughter like salt in the wound.

End Flashback

The door to his cell opened, and instead of the usual grubby food, a Dark Knight entered. He stiffened, knowing what the presence of one of their most cherished meant. It bound him in black magical ropes and levitated him in front of it, out through the door and towards his last few hours of life. Gods, the fucking memories...

Begin Flashback:

The war kicked into full swing that summer, and it became crystal clear that Virginia was very much a Death Eater. He couldn't call her by her old nickname anymore, just as he couldn't call Draco and Blaise by their familiar last names. Not after what she, no, what they, did. They came to the Burrow one night when the whole family was there, but Draco and Blaise stayed hidden until it was too late. She came to the doors in rags, begging forgiveness. She said Malfoy had kept her under the Imperius curse, but that he'd been killed a few hours ago, and that she was free.

Her family forgave her immediately, crying and hugging, telling her how much they'd missed her. Hermione and Harry stayed back, wanting them to have their moment, though something didn't feel right. After an hour or so, she asked if they would help carry in the stuff that she'd been able to bring. Once they were all outside the house, they attacked. Draco and Blaise appeared from nowhere, throwing shields over them and laughing in that disturbing way that only they could. The children were screaming and crying, and Virginia's parents and siblings looked shocked. Harry and Hermione went for their wands, but they'd taken them somehow.

They turned just as the Burrow went up in flames.

"Looking for these?" Virginia called sweetly, holding their wands in her hands.

"Ginny, baby, don't do this!" Her mother pleaded.

"Oh, don't worry, mommy dearest. I won't kill you all. Just a couple." She giggled, and the wands were eaten by fire that didn't seem to burn her skin. She let the ashes fall from her fingers, smiling at them the whole time. She lifted a hand, pointed a finger at Percy, and said, "Him." Percy was immediately pulled from the shields surrounding them, as if by a giant, invisible hand. He stood, looking at her defiantly.

"You sick bitch. You'd kill your own flesh and blood?"

"Blame it on yourself, Percy dear. Or on Ron. Or how about your precious Golden Boy? The know-it-all Granger? You were all there my first year, yet neither they, nor you and Ron, noticed your little sister wasting away. You were too busy trying to be perfect; Ron was too busy trying to soak up Harry's limelight. And none of you noticed that I was doing it willingly. Tom wasn't really going to kill me in the Chamber that day; it was a trap for Harry. After that, I stayed close by playing the fool with the non-existent crush that you all so readily believed in. No one saw through it. No one but the twins. They always saw me." She gave a more-than-slightly insane laugh as the Weasleys turned as one to look at the silent twins.

"What is she talking about?" Arthur asked unsteadily. And then came the second betrayal.

"She means that we're not quite as stupid and childish as everyone likes to believe." One of them sneered, as they both pulled out their wands. Theirs, apparently, had not been taken.

"We remember the Old Ways." The other added. And because wizarding twins can only marry other wizarding twins, due to…stipulations, and because those sets of twins bonded for life, it was no real surprise that their wives, Parvati and Padma Patil, also whipped out their own wands. The four of them left the circle, small, satisfied smiles on their faces, while the other Weasleys could do nothing but sob raggedly.

"And I admit," Virginia continued as if the twins hadn't just turned traitor against their family, "I probably could have been pulled back in my second year, or maybe not. But none of you even bothered to ask if I was all right after spending a year with Lord Voldemort, so we'll never know. You all treated me like the plague after that. But do you know who didn't? Who understood me and what it was like being drawn to darkness? Who took care of me and loved me? Fred and George, certainly. But who else? Draco and Blaise." She said fondly, a dreamy look in her eyes before they went cold again. "They found me trying to kill myself, and saved me, protected me. They gave me the attention and devotion that none of you even tried to. So don't give me your pity-party shit, Perce."

"Gin..."

"Crucio"She said, giggling as he fell to the ground screaming and writhing.

Percy's wife had fainted, and his daughter was wailing with Mrs. Weasley while Mr. Weasley looked like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. Virginia waved a hand again and Percy fell still except for the sobs racking his body. She walked over and picked him up by the throat with one hand, and Harry heard gasps at her show of strength. Seconds later, she popped his head off like a grape and threw it at them. It passed easily through the shields, landing at his wife's feet. Bill had been throwing himself at the wards to no avail, but when his brother's head flew right past his face, he bellowed, resuming his actions with a fresh rush of adrenaline. Virginia giggled again, while Draco and Blaise stood like shadows of death behind her.

"Now, now, brother dear. Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself. Those wards will kill you if you keep that up." She took her eyes from Bill, and they landed on Charlie. "Him." She said, and he was pulled from the wards by the same invisible source that had taken Percy. "Hello, Charlie. Nice to see you again."

"Ginny, please! We love you, why are you doing this? That was your brother, for Circe's sake!"

"So are you. And Circe holds no power over me, nor does any other god." She replied, and he gave up, turning to the twins.

"Why?" He screamed at them, and they smiled coldly.

"None of you loved her." They said in unison. "We heard what you said about her late at night, we saw how you treated her. There are other reasons, but we're afraid you'll never know them. Suffice to say that it's because we do love her. Nabalesca"

Black beams shot from Fred and George's wands, hitting Charlie in the chest. His body exploded, and bits of flesh and bone and gore covered those inside the shield before they fully comprehended what had just happened. Harry was in shock. The Weasley family had been just that to him. A family. And suddenly, he was watching the sweet little girl and two men who were like brothers to him, all of which he'd known for years, murder their own brothers in cold blood.

He couldn't feel anything. It was as if his mind had shut down.

He'd heard the horror stories of the last war, had heard the tales of unpitying violence and destruction, had heard the how the Death Eaters called it 'merciful vengeance', but he'd never really seen it before. It was mind-numbing and terrifying and it changed everything. Three more figures appeared out of nowhere next to Draco and Blaise, and Harry recognized them immediately. Jeran Zabini, Lucius Malfoy, and Voldemort, all of whom looked so very, very pleased.

"Have fun playing, precious one?" Voldemort's icy voice slithered over his skin.

"Yes." Virginia said simply, walking towards them and ignoring her family's horrified screams. Voldemort waved a hand, and she went from dirt and rags to silk and velvet in an instant. She gave each a kiss on the cheek while they gazed at her proudly, affectionately, and then Draco and Blaise each took one of her hands and they all Apparated away, the shield collapsing around those they had left behind with only grief and heartache.

End Flashback

Five years. He'd been able to hide, going from place to place, for five years before they'd caught him. It was careless of him really. He'd followed a foolish plan, and then let his guard down at the wrong moment. And he'd ended up here, at the Molidon's own hands. Ended up in this filthy, dank cell until they were ready to take him to Umbra. Apparently, they were ready.

Begin Flashback:

It drove Mrs. Weasley insane, and Bill did kill himself by throwing his body into the shields repeatedly. They took out countless others, creating destruction that hadn't been seen in millennia, not since their people had been worshiped as gods. They unleashed their wandless magic against the masses, wiping out legions of those who opposed them. Virginia and Draco were married by Lucius and her adopted father, Jeran, while Voldemort himself gave her away, and Blaise, of course, was the best man, while Pansy Parkinson and Bellatrix Black were the maids of honor. They adored her.

School was canceled, and by Yule, only ragtag groups of resistance still remained, hiding deep underground, more of them being flushed out daily. The muggles were all dead or had been sold into slavery, and the same went for the muggleborns. Dumbledore was dead at Draco's hands, and the hope of the people was gone. And when Draco, Virginia and Blaise had almost single-handedly wiped out all resistance, driving the world to its knees, when they'd risen Voldemort higher than he'd ever been, they cut him down ruthlessly in front of all of his followers.

And every one of those followers fell on their faces, proclaiming Draco and Virginia as Ice and Fire, Lord and Lady, King and Queen of the Dark. Blaise became Shadow, their Consort and Crown Prince, and they ruled with iron fists, merciless when necessary and actually quite fair to those loyal to them. And it was different then it had been with Voldemort. Their followers actually were loyal. Scared shitless, yes, but loyal. And that's what made it much more frightening. The Midnight Court formed. They were the center of it, and it is said that they have achieved true immortality.

After them came the inner circle, or the first circle as some called it, and it consisted of those most highly favored. Then the second, third, forth and fifth circles. The rest of the purebloods were free, and there were thousands upon thousands of them, enough to start the world anew. And there was another spot in the Court. The highest, actually, above everyone but Ice and Fire. The Molidon, which means 'blood-spiller' in the Old Tongue. He's the most powerful and feared thing there is besides the King and Queen themselves, and the only one they have granted immortality along with them besides a few select others.

He is Blaise Zabini; he is Shadow.

He'd fallen completely into darkness, and answers to the King and Queen alone. Plenty of the devastation was caused at his hands. And finally, there were the Dark Knights. They were far below Ice and Fire, and far below the Molidon as well, but just above the first circle. They numbered thirteen, for the number really did have significance, and they were the jewels of the Court. They were the most powerful, the cleverest, and loyal to the death. And they were rewarded richly, while bringing their families honor and favor. But the Malfoys and Zabinis were by far the most powerful of the families, as they were the families of the King and Queen.

All of this was known by everyone still alive. And this was not just Britain, but an entire planet. The skill of Apparation let their armies join with their allies easily and quickly, and they could destroy entire countries in a night, and had. America and Europe had been their greatest challenges, but there was no savior for them that time. Magic made their bombs useless, and a certain type of shield could stop bullets. They accomplished what Voldemort had only dreamed of. But, surprisingly, even though they decimated almost everything, except for the wonders of the Ancients, they rebuilt it once their rule was secure.

But they did not rebuild it as it had been before. There were no concrete cities, no cars, no planes, no pollution. Everything just seemed…green, no matter where you looked, unless it was up, up at a sky that was a darker blue than anyone had ever seen it before. So many stars shone at night that it seemed the sky was almost completely silver with them, and the sun looked red, bloody, making the days darker and the nights longer. The people lived however they wanted to live, be it in grand, sprawling mansions or in the very trees. Everyone and anyone who could claim purity thrived in the splendor of their choosing.

Villages and towns were also abundant everywhere, but they were not the typical peasant-like affairs that one imagines when those words are used. Magic was evident in everything, and the people lacked nothing. They had whatever they wanted whenever they wanted it, and they led rich, sublime lives. And then there were always the Seven Cities. All were enormous, positioned strategically over the globe, and they each housed tens of thousands. Four were works of pure marble, one in North America ranging over the borders of Manitoba and North Dakota, one in South America in eastern Bolivia, one in northern Russia, and one in Old Egypt.

Two were on the ocean floor, one three hundred miles south of the Hawaiian Islands and one in the middle of the Atlantic between the coasts of New York and Spain. The last, the capital, Umbra, was in the dead center of Antarctica, made entirely of ice and snow and diamond. He had never seen any of the Great Cities, for his presence in one would mean his death, but he'd heard stories from some who had, he'd seen pictures, and he'd been awed that such places could even begin to exist. But they did, and they were freely accessible as long as you had the one thing that he never would. Pure, untainted blood.

End Flashback

He glanced up at the Dark Knight that held him. They were recognizable by the beautifully disturbing tattoos on their faces and the clothes that they wore. Their solid black robes and cloaks were trimmed in silver and green and purple, but what distinguished them at first glance were the bloody thorns that twined through the colors. They wore no masks, as there was no reason to hide their identity. This one was female, and looked vaguely like Sirius. Then it hit him, although she looked much younger then he'd ever seen her before. Bellatrix. Once they made it above ground, she grabbed his arm and Apparated them away.

Begin Flashback:

Five years after the war was over, Harry was staying with a large group of refugees in one of the hidden caves. And it was a large group, about a hundred and fifty. A scout came back one morning, telling them of a small group of the enemy that had camped two or three hours away. He said that they hadn't broken camp yet, and that they would be easy pickings. Because that was what the refugees had lived for by then. Every time they found a small group of the 'enemy', as they called them, they would ambush them. They knew it was risky, but it was worth it, to most of them at least.

It was the last small measure of rebellion that they had. But it had to be done quickly, because their unauthorized use of magic would be a beacon to the local authorities. The only way his friends would let him go was by taking Polyjuice potion, even though the ingredients were hard to come by. His face was just too well known, and they were hunting for him, although only half-heartedly. So their group set out almost immediately, ignoring the pleas of mothers and the elderly, who begged them not to go. Almost ninety of their number were leaving, mostly young people and older men.

The few left didn't agree with their view, didn't agree with them paying back death with death. But when you'd seen people you loved brutally murdered, the rage could eat at your soul like nothing else. So they left, they went hunting, and they were so very confident. Ron and Hermione were at his side, and he was in a young Korean boy's body. The hike to the enemy camp felt like nothing because their blood was racing, adrenaline shooting through their veins. They reached the camp in what seemed like no time at all, and saw that the scout had been right.

It was a small camp of only ten or eleven, and there were no signs that there was anyone important among them. A group of Scouts, more than likely, nothing big. They attacked right before sunset, setting their tents ablaze. Eleven cloaked figures bearing the symbol of the Midnight Court Scouts poured out of the burning tents, wands at the ready. None of them wore masks or anything of the sort, and their hoods were pushed back. He'd been right; no one of any real significance was with them. The rebels waited for fear to cross their stoic faces as they saw how greatly they were outnumbered.

But nasty smirks twisted their lips, and two hooded figures dropped out of the trees, landing in front of them. The new arrivals pushed their hoods back, and a shiver of unease whispered down Harry's spine. Dark Knights. Pansy and Anton. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It was bad, but not too bad. Even with the two of them, they still outnumbered them by far. It was just going to be a lot messier. So, even though their appearance was unfortunate, very unfortunate, they were still confident, still ready to lose as many as it would take. But then a hush fell over the camp as something tingled in the air.

It was like a wash of stinging energy, energy so blank and black that they felt like whimpering and cringing. Another hooded figure dropped from the same tree that the other two had, but something wasn't right. The nasty sneers the Scouts were directing at them turned certain and pleased as the figure drew back its hood. A sickening dread filled Harry's stomach as he stared at a face as cold as ice and empty eyes that promised death in all ways, shapes and forms. There were gasps and exclamations of fear all around as he stepped forward.

"What do we have here?" The Molidon asked mockingly. "How interesting. Slaves don't usually come to us. Saved us a bit of time, though."

"Fuck you, Zabini." Ron said, stepping forward as Hermione desperately tried to shut him up. The situation was no longer good, and Ron should have known better. This wasn't Hogwarts, or some youthful game. Shadow's presence severely turned the tables; he was not one to be fucked with in any way. We should have stayed in the cave. We never should have come here, Harry thought cryptically.

"Do not speak that name! You will show Shadow more respect, blood traitor!" Pansy hissed threateningly, but she was waved silent.

"Those are brave words." The Molidon responded dryly. "From a long-defeated man."

"Just fucking try." Ron spat, and Hermione looked like she was about to hit him.

"As you wish."

Darkfire erupted in a storm surrounding Shadow's form, whipping around him viciously, and several people screamed. His eyes shone with power, and the darkfire began gathering in his hands. He threw them out, and a huge wave of it crashed into those at the front. It devoured flesh and spirit in seconds, and the battle began. Within three minutes, Harry could plainly see that Shadow was just toying with them. He could have killed every one of them in that initial wave, yet he was picking them off in pairs.

Harry motioned a few others that were fighting near him, and soon they were at his side. He told them that they had to concentrate on Shadow, team up on him. It was their only hope, and a slim one at the very best. They slowly made their way to him, gathering more people to their group on the way, and they surrounded him. He was obviously aware of their actions, but did nothing to prevent them. Then a foolish young wizard broke formation and lunged at him. Shadow moved quicker than their eyes could follow, and the next thing they knew, the boy was dead at his feet, his neck broken.

They began throwing curses simultaneously, but they only ricocheted off an invisible shield that wavered black when they hit it. He laughed at them, moving with the inborn grace of a panther, and his eyes swept the ring of those surrounding him, which was growing ever larger as others of their number still alive caught on. He didn't look in the least bit concerned, and Harry wondered if he wasn't the first to try such a thing. He wondered if other commanders who had fought this dark menace had done the same out of desperation.

He also wondered how many had failed. Obviously all had seeing as how Shadow stood before them alive and more than well. He then wondered what in the fuck he'd been thinking. But they had no other choice, and dying would probably be better than being their slave. And for Harry, it most definitely would be, because he would be shown no mercy. The darkfire continued crackling over Shadow's skin, which Harry only then noticed was shot with dark streaks of purple and navy. A condescending smirk formed on that beautiful, aristocratic face.

"And what, exactly, do you think you're going to do?" He asked, his smirk deepening as his nostrils flared. "I can smell your fear. And you have every reason to be afraid."

"We are not afraid!" Ron shouted from the other side of the circle. Shadow raised an eyebrow.

"You should be. And you are. You can't lie to me. Actually, I hope you do draw my blood. You have no idea what happens then." The Molidon replied, his smirk vicious and his eyes deadly.

"We'll see." Ron spat cruelly. "Because I have something that will penetrate your precious shield. You thought you'd gotten the last of them, so you took the extra wards out of your shields. Oh yes, we have spies too. And I hid this long ago. For revenge."

Without another word, a pistol appeared in his hand, and a loud 'BANG' rent the air. A dark spot appeared above Shadow's heart on the green robe he wore, growing and spreading, and the rumors were true, because his blood was blue. They let out a cheer, but it died when Shadow didn't fall. He simply looked at Ron curiously, his eyes flaring silver and scarlet, before touching the wound. They watched the last of their hope die as a silver, blood-coated bullet pushed itself out of his chest, and the wound stopped bleeding, just like that. He looked up at their horror-stricken faces, his once-indigo eyes solid black.

"You know not what you have done." He said in a sickly sweet voice, right before twin screams of rage resounded through the camp.

Those who'd thought that the situation couldn't get any worse were proven wrong in that moment. Two figures appeared in separate, swirling clouds of fury. The one on the right was like a tornado of flames and lava, the one on the left a numbing, deadly whirlwind of biting snow and razor-sharp ice shards. The elemental storms died down enough to leave no doubt as to who the beings in front of them were. No, there were none living who didn't immediately know when they were in their presence. It was a feeling, a shiver in the air, in the very land.

"Who dares draw the blood of our Bonded?" Fire demanded, looking out over the battle, which had frozen at their arrival. Harry tried, in that moment, tried desperately, to see the little girl he'd once known. But all he saw was the regal air of a Queen and eyes that were coldly furious even for all of her heat.

"Answer the Queen!" Ice's chilling voice rang out when no one responded. Frost instantly coated everything within eyesight, frost so cold you felt as though your skin were burning off. Anton immediately strode forward, and then dropped to his knees.

"It was your Majesty's brother. Ronald, I believe."

"Was it now?" Fire crooned softly. "Seize him and that mudblood bitch." The Dark Knight nodded, and before Ron or Hermione could so much as blink, they were wrapped in magical restraints and falling to the ground. "Harry will be here with them, probably in a different body. Find him."

Anton and Pansy both nodded and bowed, before starting a sweeping search of the area. Ice was already at Shadow's side, examining the nonexistent wound and the Royal blood that was still staining his robes, and then those eyes were scanning the terrified figures that seemed stuck in place, while Harry stayed perfectly still, his eyes locked onto the ground before him. He was not stupid, and he did not want to die. And if Ice's eyes met his, he would know, Harry just knew that he would, and then he would take him to one of those Great Cities and Harry would die a most painful death.

He had no idea how long it took before everyone was being herded like cattle and the King and Queen finally left, leaving Shadow in command after he'd told them quite sarcastically that he was fine. Rolling their eyes and muttering about why they even cared, he'd stolen quick kisses from each before they'd vanished, and then any mocking playfulness was gone as he turned back to his new batch of slaves. Gods, his very presence sent shivers down Harry's spine, creeping along the skin until it felt like a million biting spiders, and he wanted away so very badly that it was like a physical ache.

And then…then Shadow was suddenly gone, and Harry took his only chance. The Dark Knights were still there, along with the Scouts, but he thought he could get away from them. And he probably could have had it not been a trap. He let his guard down because he was sure, so sure, of his ability to escape as he'd always done, and he should have been more suspicious, he should have kept a cooler head. But he was scared, so scared, and he hated being scared, and he typically did foolish things when he got like that. He only made it past the first set of thick trees before the Molidon was on him.

He'd never had a chance as the world went black.

End Flashback

They appeared in a lavishly extravagant hallway. It was roofless and wall-less, just water above them and on either side. No glass or plastic held all of that crushing liquid at bay, only power. They went through a doorway, and this time there were walls, with doors along both sides, although there still wasn't a roof to be seen. Bellatrix took him through the fourth door on the left, and he saw that they were in a richly decorated bedroom. She allowed him to bathe and don new robes, and informed him that he would be staying there for the night. And will no doubt be heavily guarded, he thought sourly

A literal feast was brought in and laid before him, and he ate his fill for the first time that he could recall having done so in years. He wondered why they were bothering, though, because he knew that they would kill him. He was just glad that most of his friends had all been taken and killed long before, or it would have been much worse for them now that he had finally been captured. He was awoken early the next morning, after sleeping in a bed that felt like heaven compared to stone floors and hay. He was blindfolded and led out, and he knew that they would be heading for Umbra, the Ice City.

The trip seemed to take ages, and he wondered what the Royals would look like. He couldn't for the life of him remember, even though he'd seen them only weeks ago. Wondering just how hard Shadow had hit him that day, he nearly stumbled and fell when he felt that familiar pull at his stomach, signaling that they were using a portkey. He did fall when they came out at their destination, and his hands and shins cracked against a hard, cold floor. He was drug to his feet again with one quick tug, and he marveled at her strength. He felt strange, numb, fuzzy, and he thought that it was probably better that way.

After several more long minutes of walking, they entered a room where the air was warmer, and the Dark Knight holding him pushed him to his knees and removed the blindfold. The King and Queen sat upon a dais, looking every bit like Ice and Fire. Their hair was plaited, going just past their waists, and the King's shown like liquid silver, the Queen's like a fall of flames. Fire's eyes had changed since the war had started; they were almost as black as her pupils, with smoky gray and startlingly red streaks and sparks flashing through them. Ice's eyes were molten mercury infused with midnight blue, and black shot from the pupils like cracks, like spider webs.

Shadow stood beside them, and his eyes were one of the most frightening things that Harry had ever seen. There was power there, ruthlessness there, but it was the madness hidden by beauty that was terrifying. The King and Queen didn't look exactly sane themselves, but they hid it better than he did. Or maybe it was that he didn't even try. Maybe he wanted Harry to feel the full effect of that gaze, the full, suffocating sense of how very close he was to dying. Should anything ever happen to the King and Queen and Shadow was to slip his leash...It was more than frightening to think of what he might do before he joined them in death.

The twins were there as well, Fred and George, Parvati and Padma, and they were a few feet to Shadow's left, stirring a cauldron and whispering to him as they worked. They, too, had changed, their hair hitting their waists and their eyes an odd, wolfish amber. The rest of the Dark Knights, but for one, since there were only twelve that he could count in the room, were lounged around in various spots on cushions and divans, and they were all ethereal, but not so much as the Sovereigns and the Molidon. Harry tried to call up hate for them, but he couldn't for some reason. He could feel the King and Queen picking through his thoughts, and a low, sultry laugh echoed through the room.

"Do not worry, little hero, you shall remember your hate soon enough. We have presents for you." Fire commented just a bit gleefully, and the others, like one cohesive unit, smirked nastily. She raised a hand, and one of the Knights opened a side door. A line of people in chains came through it, walking single-file. His breath caught in his throat and he wanted to scream as his world fell away completely for the final time. Ron, Hermione, Colin and Dennis Creevey, Seamus, Dean, Cho Chang...Their heads were bowed, their eyes on the floor as they stood in a row as they were bid.

"Go ahead." Ice's velvet voice commanded. "Look upon your savior now." Their heads lifted, eyes locking onto Harry, and they seemed to feel the same death of hope that he just had. Ron struggled uselessly, and tears welled in the others' eyes.

"Oh, Harry..." Hermione cried, sobbing silently.

"'Mione, what about Neville? Angelina? Lavender, Oliver?" He couldn't help but ask. She looked at him so sadly that if his heart hadn't already been broken a million times over, it would have shattered then. She turned as four hooded figures came out from behind the dais, and the others beside her were shooting them looks of venom, if it could even be called that considering how dead and lifeless their eyes were. When the cloaked forms pulled back their hoods, he gasped and felt his vision go black around edges.

"Purebloods, Harry. It makes a world of difference." Neville's lips said, although his voice was so different that Harry wouldn't have recognized it, as were his figure and face. Nowhere was the clumsy boy of their youth visible, just a confident, arrogant, handsome man in his place. Harry shook his head, trying to make a lie of the things that he was seeing.

"And now the fun begins," Fire crowed happily, standing. Ice waved a hand, and Harry's friends were strung up spread-eagled, about fifteen feet apart, in the blink of an eye.

"Who should be first, little hero?" The Queen asked, looking at their suspended forms. "Well, go on and decide. Or I'll have to rip a name from your lips."

"Try it, bitch." He snarled, reality finally coming back to him. Before he knew what was happening, Ice was there and he hadn't even seen him move. He swung at him, but it was like hitting a statue.

"Poor, poor Potter, there's no Dumbledore to save you now." Ice said dryly. "Notcalicus!" Pain like Harry'd never dreamed could be real engulfed him from head to foot, from heart to soul. It was so much worse than the Cruciatus, and he hadn't thought that it got any worse than that. He broke in under a minute, not even realizing that a name had slipped from his lips until it was hanging in the air like a pointing finger.

"Dennis!"

The pain stopped and he sobbed raggedly on the floor before he was hauled to his feet by the Molidon.

"Time to watch, Golden Boy." Shadow hissed in his ear, and then placed a charm on him so that he couldn't close his eyes or look away. Ice circled Dennis slowly, Anton at his side, and then the torture began. They beat every inch of his skin with a cat-o-nine tails, except that whip had about fourteen tails with wicked looking hooks on the ends. Harry started to distantly wonder why the man wasn't passing out, and Fire's voice floated to him.

"They've been spelled, of course. They will stay awake through it all and be able to endure it all until we are finished." Then she giggled, and he almost threw up. They continued to flog Dennis, until his skin hung in strips, and then Fire took the whip as Anton passed it to her and stuck the hooked ends into Dennis's heart. That's when Harry heard the growls.

"Come here, babies." Fire crooned as she took Dennis's body down. A pack of…of fucking hellhounds came bounding up to them like goddamn puppies, and she threw Dennis's body in a corner, still in plain view. The hounds were ripping him apart seconds later.

"We need another name, now, little hero." Shadow crooned next to his ear, and all he could see were the hellhounds devouring his slightly-annoying but still-loyal friend, and Colin sobbing hysterically. Shadow shook him violently, and then that soul-consuming pain hit him once again. He hung on for as long as his body could take it before crying another name.

"Colin!"

"Very good, hero." Fire said in a mockingly sweet voice, walking up to their next victim. She waved a hand, and his bonds flipped him, slamming him on his back to the floor and securing him once again. Colin took longer to die than his brother, metal spikes being drilled into his body until he resembled a sick parody of a pincushion. His body, too, was thrown to the hellhounds, and by then Harry'd already been sick a few times, as had the other prisoners. He looked them over, wondering how he could pick another of them and thanking the gods that Sirius was dead. Ice, Fire and Shadow started laughing.

"Dead?" Fire mocked. "How amusing. Would you like to see your dear godfather?" She asked, and Harry felt the shards of his heart fall into his feet and rattle as they hit the floor.

Ice motioned to someone by the main doors, and Harry tore his gaze away, staring at the ground. How could they have Sirius? He'd died years ago, in the beginning of the war. Hearing footsteps approaching, he steeled himself for the wasted condition that Sirius was sure to be in. Raising his eyes slowly, it was not an abused, twisted man that he saw. His godfather stood straight and proud, looking barely twenty, his long black hair like a swishing curtain of soft onyx around him, and Remus was at his side, looking just as youthful and elegant, his eyes the same wolfish amber as the twins'. Shocked, Harry met Sirius's gaze, and the darkness in it ate at his soul.

"Wha…H-How?" He stammered, and a cruel smile formed on Sirius's lovely features. He could see the other prisoners' stunned expressions, as their eyes went from his godfather to Remus and back again.

"I am a Black." Sirius said, as if that was all the answer needed. Bellatrix laughed a poisoned laugh, and the corner of Sirius's blood-red lips lifted in a small, crooked, familiar smile.

"No." Harry mumbled, fighting against Shadow's hold on him uselessly. "No, you can't have become one of them."

"I've always been one of them, Harry." Sirius said, and his voice was somewhat gentle in an 'I'm-about-to-watch-you-die-and-do-nothing-to-stop-it' kind of way. "I was born one of them."

"That's not true!" Harry protested, trying to find the man who'd offered him a home and always helped him beneath this…this stranger's air of arrogance.

"You were always blind, Harry, I knew that from the moment I first saw you again at Hogwarts." Sirius said thoughtfully, his eyes staring farseeing at the wall behind Harry's head, as if some private movie played there. "But then again, so was James, and he was pure. I loved James, you know, until he decided to marry and breed that mudblood bitch. Didn't we love him, Remi?"

"Yes, Siri, we loved him." Remus replied, that mellow, benign smile crossing his face in such a reminiscent way that Harry wanted to weep, weep more than he was already weeping. If there was ever a time for tears, it was the complete and final destruction of your life as you knew it. Right?

"He could have been great with us." Sirius looked back down at Harry and he began trembling, much to Shadow's amusement. "He could have married Andromeda and kept her the fuck away from that Tonks fellow, because she was completely infatuated with him for the longest time. But instead of melding the Potters and Blacks, he chose a fucking mudblood over my cousin, and look what happened to her branch of our bloodline. Tainted and dead because both of them were idiots. Quite like yours is soon to be."

"Sirius, you can't really mean to let them kill me! I'm your godson, I—"

"Yes, that was quite brilliant of me, wasn't it?" Sirius interrupted, and Remus actually laughed softly, his heavily streaked hair falling over one dancing eye. What had happened to the sad, serious Remus of Harry's third year? To the righteous, responsible Remus? Who was this man with hair almost as white as Sirius's was black; this man whose face was years and years younger than he'd ever seen it, then it should have been possible for it to ever be again?

"Are you quite done taunting him, Sirius?" Fire called from her place by the hanging prisoners, one of the hellhounds licking her hand affectionately.

"I believe it was you doing the taunting, beautiful." Sirius responded in a singsong voice, and Harry could feel Shadow snicker as Fire's nose scrunched up and her lips pursed before it all smoothed out again into stunning perfection and she smirked.

"It was, wasn't it?" She asked, her eyes lit up with something awfully close to joy. Covered in blood and nastier things, sentencing person after person to their deaths, and she was fucking joyful.

And then, as she looked at him again, something dawned on him. She was a complete sociopath. But no, that wasn't quite right either, because it was more than that, different than that. It was as if humans came in two flavors for her, and if you fell on side A of that invisible line in her head, then you were safe. If you fell on side B…then you were nothing more than meat and bones and blood. It was like a farmer gathering up sick livestock for the slaughter, because the way she saw it, she wasn't sentencing people to their deaths. She was just getting rid of rotten meat.

They were all going to die.

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Okay…That was part one! If you guys like it and want to see the rest, then part two will be out shortly. So REVIEW and let me know. (Yes, yes, I'm aware that's blackmail. But we all know that I'm an utter review whore, so get over it, lol.)