Title: Fire and Death
Author: Feygan
Completion Date: WIP
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Percy/Oliver, Fred/George, Hermione/Ron
Warning: violence, language, disturbing imagery
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CHAPTER ONE
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Crimson shades of the yesterday soul in the melonberry pool of broken hearts
screaming mouths blazing into the ash-shod winter paradise of the boredom-induced Dreaming.
Yowling with the fury of a thousand freed vengeances in the well of melting flesh,
rippling tides of underbelly pining, wanting things never to be had.
Gashes torn into the bruised flesh of mistaken identities
branded forever a liar by those that should furnish truth
to bleed out into nothingness--unwanted by anyone.
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The light of candles glowed from their perch overhead, causing reflections off the silverware. The nighttime sky was dark blue with shades of purple tracing across the clouds that hovered over Hogwarts, the rich inkiness hiding the view of the stars.
The voices of the children were subdued and there was very little laughter. Every once and awhile a child would burst into tears, but they were studiously ignored, no one wanting to bring attention to their show of weakness. Too many lives had been lost either in battle or from the peripherals of the War, and even some of the survivors weren't really living, they were just existing. It could have been any one of them sobbing their heart out.
Percy Weasley had graduated four years before, but had been called back to help strengthen the protections on Hogwarts and train an advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts level attended by returning graduates. He had been happy to come because he knew that his younger siblings needed protection and he didn't know if he trusted anyone else to provide it. And helping with the training was a part of his duty that he would never have even thought to turn his back on, no matter how hard everything had gotten.
Back in the "good old days" he could pretend that Voldemort's being alive wasn't real. He had ended up treating his father like he was a fool, but at least he had been able to believe that everything was going to be all right, that his family was going to live. Everyone had thought he was a terrible horse's arse, but he remembered the terrible dark days of the first rise of Voldemort--the hiding and the bone-biting fear. He hadn't wanted the nightmare to be true, more for his brothers and sister than for himself, so he had pretended that life was still good.
Sometimes he wished that things could go back to how they used to be. It wouldn't be so bad to still be working in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. The job had been boring as hell, but at least he hadn't had to fear for the lives of his family every single day. Sure, there was a good chance the twins would blow themselves up, or that Ron would pull some idiotic stunt and get himself killed, but dark wizards wouldn't have been a part of it all. Percy would only have had to worry about them dying, not that their very souls would be taken from them, to leave them alive but withered inside where it counted, slowly fading away with the light in their eyes, taking the hope of the people around them with them.
Now he had more responsibility and power than he had ever dreamed of. He was fulfilling a valuable function in wizarding society, guarding and training the next generation of Defenders Against the Dark. But the very fact that Defenders were needed at all made him want to close his eyes and never wake up. The world was turning into a dark place and he didn't know when it was going to stop.
In the old days the power he held would have been all that he would have been able to see. He had been an ambitious little git, dreaming about finally getting respect from everyone around him so that he wouldn't have to talk up his own accomplishments until they lost all meaning. Now, finally having everything he had always thought he had wanted, he just wanted to give it all back and let someone else be in charge. But there was no one he trusted with the lives of the people he loved. Sometimes he didn't even trust himself.
He was seated at the High Table picking at his dinner, his eyes lowered so he didn't have to see anyone else. He had the feeling that everything was about to go bad again, and he didn't know why. The feeling had been growing in him for hours, becoming stronger and stronger with each minute that passed. It made his heart flutter in his chest. A hard knot was beginning to grow in his throat.
As usual, no one seemed interested in talking to him, so he was allowed to sink into his thoughts peacefully. For the first time in his life he was grateful to be completely ignored by the people around him--it meant that his fears belonged to him alone and nobody else had to care.
Dread was filling him and he didn't know what was going to happen, but he was afraid for his family. They were all he had in his life and he would do anything to keep them safe, no matter the danger to himself. And from what he was feeling, he knew he was going to have to make a dangerous choice, one that he probably wasn't going to survive.
He might not have been the best at Divination, but he could read the signs and portents. And the years since leaving Hogwarts had taught him to trust his instincts when it came to approaching danger. Those gut feelings had saved his life and the lives of people depending on him quite a few times.
He poked at a mound of broiled rough chopped potatoes with a sprinkling of salt and pepper decorating their surface. His dinner was about as appealing as unnecessary surgery. His fears wouldn't let him eat.
* * *
Fred muffled a giggle against his sleeve as he watched George creep up behind Percy. No one else could see him because of the Invisibility Potion, but Fred had used the Clear Vision drops on his eyes so he saw George as a ripple of motion moving across the room.
Pulling his wand out of his sleeve, Fred covertly gave it a flick and whispered the spell he had readied. It was a small charm, but sneaking it past the layers of Percy's defenses was the hard part. Percy was surrounded by so many shields that it was a wonder he didn't hover a foot off his chair.
Percy suddenly twitched and sneezed, grabbing his handkerchief to swipe his nose. When he moved, George slipped in next to him and dumped the potion into his cup, the sound of the sneeze covering any noise he might have made.
Fred slipped his wand back into his sleeve pocket and went back to eating his dinner. No one had noticed a thing.
A couple of minutes later George returned to his seat after his "bathroom" trip. "Mission accomplished," he whispered into Fred's ear, flicking his tongue moistly.
Fred shivered and gasped delightedly. "Eat your dinner. I want to enjoy the fun when it starts. We can have our own party later--after Percy entertains us."
The twins shared a hot glance, both thinking about what they were going to do later, and hurriedly began eating, shoveling in their food. Neither wanted to miss the show when Percy drank from his cup and the potion took effect.
* * *
Though he hadn't been able to eat more than a mouthful, Percy had been drinking cup after cup of frothy Green Goose Juice since dinner had started. The tangy taste was one of his favorites and it always lightened his mood a little, no matter how bad things got. For a long time, it had been his only comfort, which had to be some kind of pathetic. The War was getting to him.
Holding his floppy right sleeve with his left hand, he lifted his cup and took a large swallow, not noticing anything wrong until it was too late.
He took another swallow, then blinked, and blinked, then twitched and fell from his chair clutching his throat. Tears flooded his eyes and his body began to convulse violently. His heels drummed the floor as his eyeballs rolled back in his head, a thick froth bubbling from his lips.
To him it felt as if a thousand lights had been switched on behind his eyes, each getting brighter and brighter until it was a wonder he didn't burn up. Finally, just as the light was so bright he was writhing in pain, everything disappeared. Blackness burst inside him and he fell away forever.
* * *
Voices were raised in panicked confusion and Dumbledore rose to his feet to check on Percy, but Snape got their first.
The Potion's Master might not have liked Gryffindors, even ones that had graduated, but that wouldn't stop him from caring for the well-being of one of his students or fellow faculty members. It was a point of pride with him that no one had died on his watch... though a couple had under the responsibility of his colleagues. But that was not his concern. He was here now.
Snape fell to his knees next to Percy's convulsing body and reached out a hand only to snatch it back about an inch from Percy's skin. Even without touching the boy, his hand was reddening and beginning to blister.
"What is going on here?" he demanded, waving his wand at his hand and saying a quick healing spell. The pain disappeared.
Dumbledore came to kneel beside him, sweeping his robes out of his way. "I do not understand what is happening. He is surrounded by an energy field of some kind, and it seems to be originating from within his own body. He is doing this to himself, but I don't understand how or why."
Untangling herself from the tablecloth, Poppy hurried over to them, panting lightly. "I have never seen anything like this. Has a curse been laid on him?" She glanced at Snape. He would know.
Snape shook his head. "It doesn't appear to be a curse, or at the very least not of any kind that I've ever seen before. But if Voldemort or one of his agents could get in here, why would they focus on Percy? He is nothing but a middling fair wizard, though he is quite talented in controlling the power he's got. Just because he's helping in the Defense Against the Dark Arts training wouldn't be enough to attack him. Dumbledore was right here."
"It... it wasn't supposed to be like this. Is he all right?" a little voice asked.
They all looked at the Weasley twins, wrapped up in each other's arms and looking terrified. At the moment they didn't look their nineteen years, but like children caught in the wrong.
"What have you done?" Snape demanded, glaring at the boys.
Green sweatered Fred bit his lip. "We made it ourselves. It was just supposed to be a little half-hour Aging Potion. He would have just suddenly become fifty years older. When the potion ran out he would just go back to being himself--no harm, no foul."
"He wasn't supposed to get hurt or anything," George added, tears gleaming in his eyes. "Is he all right? What's happening to him?"
A yellow haze began to rise from Percy's body. They all stumbled backward as it thickened and began to pulsate outward, surrounding him completely. As he disappeared from view, Snape could almost have sworn that Percy's eyes snapped open, the terrified orbs rolling wildly toward him as they disappeared.
* * *
Hunger churned in his belly, but he did not bother to hunt, just ignored the growing feeling. Food was for the weak, and he was not weak.
Hunched over the small flickering fire he stared into the depths, watching the Enemy in the lonely remnants of his throne room. A grim smile tugged at his lips.
All the stolen splendor the Enemy had surrounded himself with was gone. He was scrabbling in the muck alone, his followers dead and his magic weakened by the long war. The victory he had been assured was nothing but ashes.
In an empty world, only the Hero and the Enemy were left. The drawn out battles and the immoral acts that both had committed, one for power and the other for the Greater Good, had destroyed everything either one had ever wanted to have. There was no empire to rule, and no peaceful life to live. All they had was each other, and soon there would only be one left.
A whisper of sound and the Hero was on his feet, his head moving back and forth as he looked around, trying to find the source of possible attack. The Enemy had looked peaceful, but maybe that was just another ruse, one that he had almost fallen for.
Gathering magic around him in a crackle of trapped lightning, he prepared himself for what was to come. His fingers twitched and he bared his teeth defiantly.
The yellow light that engulfed him was completely unfamiliar, but he struck back, magic lashing out in deadly waves. The light ignored him, just swallowed him up.
He wailed his anger and frustration as it sucked him in and he disappeared.
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