Scars III

Part Two: Corrupted
Chapter 19: Summoned

Harry woke to a pounding behind his eyes. With a grown he peeled his eyelids up only to quickly squint them shut the next instant.

“Here, take this,” Severus’s harsh voice exploded in his head like fireworks.

A vial was shoved in his hand and without question Harry downed the contents. Relief washed through him almost before his taste buds began their protest of the vile liquid he had just forced upon them.

“Thanks,” Harry said, only mildly surprised at how horse his voice was.

Severus grunted his acceptance of the thanks. Harry tempted daylight once more as his opened his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~

Her legs burned with the power of each stride. Her arms were pumping at her side, even they burned with the pain of her flight. The green of the forest was nothing more than a blur as she moved deeper into the forest that had to hold her doom. She needed this. She was running to her grave, all she had to do was find it. She knew it was somewhere near.

A misstep had her stumbling, then falling. Face first she hit the ground. Dirt and squishy crawling things found their way between her lips and into her mouth. She saw only darkness as her face burrowed deeper into the stark bare ground of the grave she had been seeking for far too long.

The darkness of the dirt against her eyes did not leave as she turned her head. Using numb fingers she tried to pry the caked dirt from her eyes, the mud from her mouth. Everything was sticky and clinging as though she was the savor of its brief life.

She tried to cough, tried to breath but no air would come past the dirt that had made its way into her throat. It was inside her, fighting to dominate her. She fought, fought for life but the weakness was coming. With a start she realized where she was.

She stopped fighting. With her remaining strength she used the sensitive pads of her fingers to feel beneath her. Rotted flesh, sharp jagged bone, soft pliable maggots. She was dead, this was her grave, and this was her corpse. It was almost a relief…but…if she was this corpse…who was fighting for life?

“…who indeed…”

Ginny sat up with a scream.

~~~~~~~~

Pansy woke to the sound of a scream. Opening her eyes she was greeted by the sight of her Ginny sitting up in bed, her bright red hair lit with the morning sunlight in such a way as to make it seem the girl was aflame.

“Ginny?” Pansy whispered.

“I…I was dead…could feel it…dead,” Ginny mumbled.

Pansy sat up, one hand rubbed at sleep shrouded eyes as the other was used to brace her weight. “Ginny, calm down.”

“I heard him…” Ginny mumbled.

“Heard who?” Pansy said while trying to suppress a yawn.

Ginny turned her head towards her, her sightless eyes roving across the Pansy’s general vicinity. “Voldemort…”

A shiver ran down Pansy’s spine. “What? Are you sure? How…?”

Ginny waved a hand, as though banishing Pansy’s questions. “Does not matter,” she said, her tone quiet.

“How can you say it doesn’t matter?’ Pansy demanded harshly.

Ginny only shook her head. Her hands moved in an almost artistic pattern, fingers outstretched, palms twisting slightly as she moved. Using outstretched hands as well as feet Ginny maneuvered herself from the bed.

“What are you doing?” Pansy demanded, fear slightly more prominent than concern in her voice.

“Does not matter,” Ginny repeated her voice a rasp.

Pansy tried to reach out, grasp something of her lover, and pull her back, away from whatever called to her. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t even move. Fear, pure and laced with adrenaline coursed through her, enveloping her entire being. The fear was overpowering, intoxicating and for an instant she wondered if perhaps it was like this when Ginny had taken those drugs…intoxicating.

Her mind snapped back to the present at the sound of the door closing. Ginny was gone. For a few moments Pansy only stared at the closed door, then it hit her, she had moved. She must have, she couldn’t be staring at that door unless she had moved her head. Gathering courage she wasn’t quite sure why she needed Pansy attempted to move her hand. Her fingers stretched across the bed sheets, the muscles flexing easily.

A gasp escaped her, a breath of air filled with the emotions battling within her. She stood, too quickly. Dizziness filled her head and she nearly fell back to the bed before regaining her balance. Her entire body trembled, enough to notice, but not so much as to impede her as she ran from the room, towards the one soul she trusted most to keep her Ginny safe.

~~~~

Harry was downing his third cup of ridiculously strong coffee when Pansy hurtled her way into the room. Her eyes had a crazed gleam Harry had often seen in people faced with their own death.

“What happened?”

“Ginny,” Pansy gasped. Harry was about to ask if it was drugs but realized Pansy’s silence was only due to the heaving gasps she was trying to control.

“Dreamed…heard…you-know…-who,” Pansy managed between harsh rattling breaths.

Harry stared at her. Even if he was so inclined he doubted he could hide his surprise. That was nothing like what he had expected. He knew Ginny had met Tom Riddle once before, but that had been a past version of the man.

“Where is she?” he finally asked.

“Don’t know…she just left,” Pansy said as she slid into a chair.

Harry glanced around the room, the only other person in the room at the moment beside himself and Pansy was the man Sirius Black.

“Ginny’s the Weasly girl right? The red head?” Black asked. Harry silently nodded. “Well, lets go find her,” Black said, his voice almost cheerful.

“No,” Harry said, he saw Pansy’s head jerk up but raised a hand to quiet her. “I need a moment to check on something.”

Without any more explanation Harry stood and removed himself from the room. When he was sure he was alone he bit into his finger with one of his slightly elongated fangs. Blood welled form the wound, harsh and dark, nearly black. Silently commanding his body to keep the blood flowing till he was done Harry took his shirt off and began tracing the symbols on his chest that released the power he had suppressed for over four years.

The power surged up from some hidden place within, an aphrodisiac like no other, a spinning, dizziness that swelled through his entire being, rushing into his head and bringing a euphoria mixed with the distinct feeling of flying. The surge made his skin tingle, his blood burn, and his cock harden. Ignoring these effects he commanded his blood to stop flowing then began an intricate spell.

Magic, raw power, and the intoxicating shadows of blood filled the air with an audible hum of energy. A few moments and the power faded from sight and hearing. Dev retrieved his shirt from the floor, pulled it over his head and returned to Pansy and Sirius.

He didn’t bother hiding what he had done, it would only delay him as he would most probably have to repeat the process should he revert back. He could see the startled awe in the two human’s faces as he entered the room. For a moment Harry tried to picture what they saw, a boy with a main of hair that looked like oblivion itself. Eyes the deep scarlet of blood and lust. Wings, leathery and black half folded against his back, having had already rip through his shirt. Fangs long enough to make it difficult to fully close his mouth. Fingers capped by dark purplish nails that extended just enough to look like a possible threat. Picturing it he could understand their shock.

“I found her,” he said. “She’s about to enter the forbidden forest, you may meet me there if you like.”

“How are you…” Pansy trailed off as Dev’s fingers twisted through the air, patterns momentarily shimmering where the thin digits had been before they, like Dev, vanished without a sound.

Pansy glanced at Sirius, “That’s why we trust him with our lives.”

Sirius only nodded, he understood. That boy could kill each and every one of them without a second thought or the slightest difficulty, yet instead he made it his purpose to protect them. There couldn’t possibly be a more powerful ally…at least, he hoped not.

~~~~

Harry appeared within the forbidden forest. Ginny was no where in sight. Biting his lip he felt the air, smelling it. She was behind him, sixty feet away. Odd, he had been aiming for six feet away.

Shaking the thought away he turned, heading towards where he could smell her. It was a clearing, how did I just know it would be a clearing. Ginny was standing at the center, her bright red hair a waterfall of fire. Her pale, sightless eyes scanning the world around her as though the darkness could tell her the reason why she was there.

Harry considered calling out to her but a movement at the far edge of the clearing stopped him. Someone was moving towards Ginny, another moment and Harry would be able to see their features.

Harry had half expected it to be Voldamort himself, it was not. It was the odd defense against the dark arts teacher, Mad-Eye Moody. ‘What the hell…’ Harry thought as the man approached the slightly shaking Ginny.

Harry was uncertain, he could not decide weather to approach or wait. As Moody grew ever closer to Ginny Harry tried to hear any words. He could cross the clearing in two seconds, enough time to stop Mood if he tried anything. But what the hell was going on?

Moody was now only a yard from Ginny, he stopped, watching the girl, not saying anything. Ginny was truly shaking now, her body trembling as though it were bellow freezing.

Harry narrowed his eyes, scanning the edges of the clearing, looking for anything that might explain what was going on. And still the two just stood in the middle of the clearing, not speaking, not moving except for Ginny’s trembling.

Finally Moody spoke, his voice harsh, scarred. “He will be very pleased with you dear, just a few more moments now. Don’t worry, it will only hurt a lot.”

Harry was thoroughly confused. That wasn’t Moody’s voice, and more than that, he knew that Moody had said more than what Harry had just heard. He should have been able to tell what the man had said, but he couldn’t.

Harry was getting worried. Everything he had seen so far was disjointed, as though he was only seeing half of what occurred. ‘Perhaps there is an illusion,’ Harry mused.

Before Harry had realized it Moody was next to Ginny, his hand raised ot strike the girl, and his lips were moving, but Harry could not hear what he said. Knowing it was stupid and reckless Harry sped forward. It was a trap, that much he was sure of, but he could not keep himself from doing it.

With one hand he caught Moody’s wrist before it found it’s target, with the other he caught Ginny around the waist, preparing to pull her away from the man.

But he couldn’t pull Ginny. Ginny was pulling him, except, it wasn’t Ginny, it was her clothing. A portkey. And not just a portkey, Ginny was completely covered in magic, that had been the word spoken that Harry had not been able to hear: spells, dozens of spells.

Ginny was covered in spells, all designed to restrain, silence, and harms Harry.

As the portkey finally stopped making the world spin Harry could feel his knees his the ground, his left hand still glued to Ginny’s waist, his right to Moody’s wrist.

He could feel the spells on Ginny working themselves into his being. He was being paralyzed, muted, and having his vampire abilities repressed in unison to a deep, sharp pain that filled his chest a radiated outwards. The pain intensified as someone yelled, “Crucio!”

Harry closed his eyes and relaxed into the pain, he was born to pain, he was pain. Crucio and every other pain spell in existence brought him only the quiet of mind he needed in order to work out how he was going to get himself and Ginny out of this mess.

The Crucio spell was lifted to Harry’s dismay. The other pain spells were also removed as his hands were pried from the two warm bodies. Importunely the paralysis and other dampening spells remained.

He was settled, by several sets of hands, on the edge of a tombstone. He was seated so as to be facing a cauldron that was bubbling merrily at the center of a circle, or at least Harry assumed it was circle as he could only see one half of it, of men wearing the Death Eater masks.

Harry had always wondered about that name: Death Eater. These men had never eaten the remains of their work, not like Harry or Dante or any of Harry’s other friends. These men were children who were playing dress up. Unfortunately for Harry they were children with powerful toys. The wands each of them carried stank of either succubus or Incubus power, which explained why their spells were working on him.

Harry wondered who had “convinced” the sex demons to give their power over…

“Hello Harry Potter.”

Harry wished desperately he was not paralyzed right now, it was incredibly painful, laughing without the ability to actually laugh. Vodlamort was almost cute. He was so tiny and…squishy looking. Harry just wanted to put him in a cage with an overgrown hamster and make them fight.

“I was going to wait until the end of the Tri-Wizard tournament for our reunion however I felt it prudent to change my original plans due to your…abilities.”

Harry was getting bored. ‘Either allow me to talk so I can insult you and keep thing interesting or get on with it,’ Harry couldn’t help but think.

“As you say,” Voldamort said.

Harry relaxed into the pain, his only worry that of what was going to happen to the silent redheaded girl standing, paralyzed, somewhere behind him.