Unexpected

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Author's Note: Once again, I do not speak French. I am using
a dictionary/translator on my computer, so I'm aware it won't be perfect. If
you do speak French, I would like to apologize now for any slaughtering of the
language I may have inadvertently caused. Otherwise, what do yore, re, right?

French translations: ((example))

Thanks to those who reviewed!

Author's Note: A special thanks to all of those who have
risen to the fanart challenge, it is much appreciated! If anyone else is
interested, just let me know!

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Fred and George lay sprawled out on the silk sheets of the
huge bed in their new room, the one that they'd been given after the turmoil of
the events in Paris had passed,
relaxing for a bit after their morning bath before they headed dowirs.irs. The
Manor obeyed Draco even to the point of shifting its rooms around or just
creating new ones altogether, and the latter is exactly what had been done.
This room connected to their sister and her lovers' bedroom by the door to
their left, and also to Padma's by a door directly in front of them. Her room
also connected to their sister's, and she and the twins had been granted free
access to come and go as they wished.

A full day had passed since the night of the Yule Ball, but
none of them had left their rooms yet, the twins and Padma sleeping off the
effects of the Nirvana while Draco, Blaise and Virginia had been busy
consulting with their lawyer, Satordi, over the article that would be printed
concerning the Weasleys return to the ruling aristocracy. Fred and George had
taken it all in stride on the outside, but inside they were stunned. How long
had their family aspired for such a thing? But they had always thought that if
it ever happened, it would be because they'd somehow raised the money to
finally buy it all back. They'd never even considered it being given to them.

But it had been, and it had increased the twins' affection
for their sister's lovers even more. They weren't horrid people like everyone
assumed, but the twins could still see how others could think that they were.
Not everyone had the pleasure of being bonded to them, after all. And that's
exactly what the twins were. Bonded to all four of Cocidius's Chosen
for eternity, or for however long they chose to walk this earth. They were to
be their eyes and ears whenever they were needed, their right-hand men, and the
ties between the six of them allowed for open trust. How could you betray
someone when you could neither lie to them nor even raise a hand against them?

They had surrendered themselves freely when Cocidius had
requested such a thing from them, and the god had bound their souls together,
making the twins into true liegemen, into true, unwavering supporters. They had
seen Padma Marked, had listened closely as the god had explained why she was
needed. Draco, Blaise and Virginia (as they'd begun to call her for no real
reason that they could place) had been reluctant at first, thinking that
Cocs mes meant for them to take Padma as a lover as well as their forth. But
they'd consented when He'd told them that He would never force such a thing on
them, no matter what the consequences.

And the twins also had Marks of their own, but they were not
Chosen, not exactly. More precisely, they were not Cocidius's, nor any god's,
Chosen. But if you wished to say that they were His Chosen's Chosen,
then you wouldn't be too far off. They had grown in power dramatically, but
were still nowhere near as strong as their new masters were. Their lives were
tied to Virginia, Draco, Blaise and Padma's, and they would live for as long as
those four did. Should one or more of them fall, the twins would grow weaker
but not die. Not until the last Passed on. Not to say that they could not die
on their own, of course, were they ever seriously wounded and without any aid.

But they did not dwell overlong on that, as everything
seemed much too nice at the moment for them to worry themselves with a fate
that they could not change, a fate that they did not even desire to change.
Some might find their easy acceptance hard to fathom, asking how they could so
willingly agree to a life of servitude. But they did not see it like that, and
they knew no way to make others understand, nor did they really care to. It
wasn't any of their business anyway, and none of them knew the way that things
became so very crystal clear when within a god's presence. Neither did they
know what it was like to be magickally bound to someone in the way that the
twins were bound to the four Elementals.

"Fred?"

"Hmm?"

"What if someone from the ball breaks their oath of
silence?" George asked, and Fred turned over to look at him as best he
could in the almost non-existent light. The enchanted stars above them were the
only illumination in the room, and had, say, Bill or Charlie come inside, they
wouldn't have been able to see a thing. But the twins didn't need but the
slightest hint of light anymore, and the dim radiance supplied just enough.

"Then they will regret it." Fred answered simply.
One did not lightly break any oath, let alone one given to a Malfoy and a
Zabini.

"That's an understatement if I've ever heard one."
A silky voice drawled from outside their drawn bed curtains, and it was their
only warning before the fabric slipped open enough to allow two shadowy figures
to crawl up onto the mattress with them.

"Is it, now?" Fred asked, a teasing lilt entering
his tone.

"Of course." Blaise responded, as if it would be
absurd for it not to be. "No one likes incurable leprosy." The twins
choked, and then started snickering.

"Ooooh, that is harsh." They said in unison, quite
glad that no such fate would be befalling them.

"Perhaps." Draco said, his lips curling into a
sneer that said he didn't really think it was at all. "But that's not why
we're here so early." He added, his expression evening out once more.

"What do you need?" George questioned without the
slightest hint of hesitation, rising to a sitting position and stretching his
bare arms over his head.

"Two things." He said neutrally. "Neither of
which you have to do. But both would be appreciated greatly." Their
interest and curiosity peaked, the twins tilted their heads to the side and
waited patiently for one of them to continue.

"We have an…errand, of sorts, to take care of before we
return to school in two days. We leave tonight, and it is important that no one
knows where we have gone once we do." Blaise told them, his indiyes yes
serious. The twins nodded.

"We understand. Is Virginia going with you?" They
asked, and the Slytherins' faces hardened.

"No. She must not know either." They replied, and
the twins' mouths fell open.

"What?" They questioned, shock shining clearly in
their eyes. The Slytherins looked away, as if they didn't quite believe that
they were going to keep something from her either, but when they looked back,
the twins could see that their resolve stayed firm.

"No one else can know. Not even Virginia or
Padma." Draco stated, his mercury eyes boring into theirs and glittering
like the stars above them. The twins continued to stare for a moment or two,
before nodding again slowly.

"We'll do whatever you ask, of course, but do we get to
know why you're doing this?" Fred asked, not liking the creeping suspicion
growing in the back of his mind.

"We're going to see Voldemort." Blaise finally
responded, right when the twins had decided that they weren't going to receive
an answer. They almost wished that they hadn't as soon as the words had left
his lips.

"Like hell you are." George hissed, poking him
hard in the shoulder. Fred delivered an equally hard poke and potent glare to
Draco.

"We have to, alright?" Draco said, catching Fred's
hand, and the twins saw something new and completely unanticipated in their
friends' eyes. Fear. Not fear for themselves, oh no, never that. It was deeper
than that could ever be. It was instinctual, primal, the sort of fear that creates
an irresistible urge to protect and defend, to sacrifice everything if need be.
It was fear for Virginia, and it
cut the twins straight to their cores.

"Alright." They replied once they'd found their
wits again. A previously unseen tension seemed to leak out of the two
Slytherins, and each gave the twins a grateful kiss on the cheek.

"Merci." Blaise murmured, his eyes distant, as if
seeing something else entirely. Then they cleared again, and he gave a small
smile. "Just…don't let them find out where we've gone. We will be fine, I
promise you, but we cannot risk anyone coming after us, and we certainly cannot
take Virginia with us. Not there.
And she would demand to come if we told her. You know this." ((Thank you))

"Yes, we know she would." Fred sighed,
understanding his sister's stubbornness all too well. "But you know that
if she gets suspicious and opens the Marks we won't be able to keep it from
her, just as we wouldn't be able to if it was the other way around."

"Oui." Draco said softly. "You must be quite
pleased that we are rarely divided in such a way. I'm sure it must be a bit
uncomfortable for you. That's why we got that part out first."

"Oh, yes, the second favor." George said, putting
on an air of martyrdom. "Please tell me that it won't be something like
murdering and skinning helpless infants. Because that's the only thing that I
can think of that would be worse than facing my sister if she finds out what
you're planning to do."

"Non, non, it's nothing like that." The Slytherins
laughed. ((No, no))

"Then what?"

"You have a shop in Bristol,
do you not?" Blaise asked, and the twins felt a simultaneous shiver race
down their spines.

"Yes." They answered promptly, wondering where
they were going with this. Did they need something made? Or a place to hide if
need be? But both of those options seemed quite ridiculous, and the twins
couldn't glean anything from their Marks, as the two Slytherins were shielding
their end tightly.

"Do you like it where you are?" Draco inquired,
and they stiffened the slightest bit.

No, they didn't like where their shop was located at all. It
was in the seedy section of wizarding Bristol,
and their part of town was too unpopulated for word of mouth to spread very
far, so the business was bad. They made just enough to pay their bills and keep
themselves fed and clothed, and they were three weeks from losing the lease on
their flat. They would have chosen a better spot, or at least relocated, but
they simply didn't have the money. The gold Harry had given them years ago
hadn't stretched very far, although it had enabled them to create a whole horde
of new products that they knew would sell like crazy if they could only get out
of Bristol.

"Not particularly." Fred replied slowly, and the
smirks on their faces testified that they could tell the twins hated it.

"Would you be terribly heartbroken to leave,
then?"

"Not really." George said, his nose wrinkling as he
wondered what they were up to. "Why?"

"Because," Blaise started, his smirk turning into
a self-satisfied smile, "we have a proposition for you."

"See, we've been considering expanding into a new field
for a while now." Draco explained, and a funny, fluttering feeling started
between the twins' ribcages. "We weren't sure what sort, though, until we
observed your skill when we mixed that potion up for your brother."

"You two have some true talent, and we're always
looking for that." Blaise continued. "So we would like to offer you a
contract with us."

"A wha—" The twins started, but Draco waved them
silent.

"A contract." He repeated. "Should you
accept, you'll be relocating to Diagon Alley and to the shop where Gladrags
used to be. It will have to renovated, of course, and made suitable for your
needs, but that won't take very long once we assign a team to it."

"We own the shop already, so you won't need to worry
about a rent payment due every month. Although I doubt you'd have any trouble
paying it if you do agree to all of this," Blaise said wryly, "as you
would be keeping an eighty-five percent share of the total earnings, which is
rare, but we like you. And if it catches on like we think it will…"

"And we have never been wrong regarding our businesses
before," Draco added.

"Then within less than six months we could be turning
it into a chain. And just for signing the contract, you'll get the same deal
that all of the…promising new business owners we enlist receive. It includes
sponsored advertising, all of the supplies and staff that you will need for the
first year, and a new residence that you may or may not move into, depending on
your preferences."

"And then there is the signing bonus, of course."
Draco finished, and they both looked at the twins expectantly, waiting for them
to say something.

Fred and George, however, seemed to have lost the ability to
think properly, let alone speak. Everything that they had been dreaming for,
everything that they had sweat, bled and worked themselves into exhaustion for,
had just beend oud out before them, waiting patiently for their acceptance or
refusal. And what sensible person would turn down such an offer from the owners
of the largest, most successful corporations in their world? No one. If you'd
asked them a few months ago if these two would ever give them the chance to
prove themselves in such a way, they would have laughed, albeit humorlessly.
Yet there they were, watching stunned as they were handed a thick folder.

They opened it slowly, almost reverently, and saw the
familiar sight of Gladrags, except the sign was gone and the outside had
finally been repainted. Next were pictures of a country house that appeared to
be far from any neighbors, which would be a relief considering how often one or
another of their experiments exploded or malfunctioned when they were still in
the testing phase. After that came the contracts themselves, and they skimmed
over them silently, their hands shaking just enough for the words to slightly
blur. Then they reached the part about the mentioned signing bonus, and their
eyes widened impossibly, the parchment falling from their suddenly nerveless
fingers.

"A...A million galleons apiece!?" They cried,
staring at their friends as if they'd gone mad. They received mildly confused
looks in return.

"Oui." Draco replied. "Is it not enough? We
could double it if you wish."

"Double it? Sweet gods…" Fred muttered, feeling as
if he were floating, as if he were in a dream that would end at any moment,
leaving them back at their rundown shop in Bristol
with no hope and no future.
p>

"It's too much already without you doubling it."
George stated, his blue eyes still glued to the contract lying on the sheets.
"We'd never be able to pay you back for all of this."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. And you're not required
to in the first place." Blaise insisted. When they made to argue, he held
up a hand. "I know, I know. You would want to anyway. Which is why we've
put a clause in your contracts that are not in most. We'll give you the
opportunity to be co-owners, which is typical enough, but we're also offering
you the chance to buy it all from us whenever you are able. We will not hold
you to a life-long debt as we do most others, for we favor you and you are
completely loyal to us, which is rare."

"You are highly skilled at what you do, as are
we." Draco added, another smirk beginning to form on his frosty lips.
"Together, we are sure we can have your business booming and thriving in
no time, especially with the War looming over the population's heads. They will
desire laughter and an occasional escape from reality, and your shop would
provide that."

"Yes, but…" Fred started slowly, his head still
spinning and his adrenaline rushing at the very thought of them getting such an
opportunity. "But what if it doesn't work out?"

"It will." Draco assured them, and his confidence
bolstered theirs. They shared the briefest of glances before turning back to
the two Slytherins and picking up the contracts once more.

"Alright. But the bonuses aren't necessary, I mean,
Willow Bright will be bringing in quite a good sum, and we could always
just—"

"Enough with that already." Blaise said
exasperatedly, pulling on a lock of Fred's hair. "You've earned it, and it
won't hurt us any, I promise. Besides, I know as much as you do that you don't
want to ask your sister for money." He finished, referring to the fact
that even though they were giving everything back, all of it was going to Virginia
to do with as she wished. It broke tradition to give it to the youngest in the
family line, but when had something like that ever stopped them? And it ensured
that Ron received nothing, as she was renouncing all of her familial ties with
him.

"We don't want to ask you either." George said,
his eyes still wide and unbelieving.

"You're not." Blaise said simply, smirking at the
looks of realization crossing their identical features. "You haven't asked
us for a thing. In fact, I do believe we're the ones asking you." The
twins shared another glance, and came to a unanimous decision.

"Do you have a quill?"

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Padma drifted awake lazily, and it took her a moment to
remember where she was when she saw dark green bed curtains instead of blue.
Then a smile curved her lips and she sat up, the furs that had been keeping her
warm falling to her waist. A bath sounded delicious, but the walk through the
cold air to get to it did not. The Mark on her arm pulsed as if to remind her
that she need not worry about it, and she opened it just enough to let Draco's
essence flow into her, making the chill in the air disappear completely as ice
ran through her veins. She shivered, the cold unbearable for a split second,
before the magic evened out and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Throwing the furs and silk sheets off of her, she padded on
silent feet through the archway on her left, breathing deeply as the scent of
Frankincense welcomed heteamteam rose off the water in the sunken pool that was
centered in the middle of the room, and she looked around dreamily. She loved
this place. The Patil Estate was by no means shabby, but she had never seen
such levels of extravagance before she'd come to the Manor. And the bathroom
that had been created in her room was simply extraordinary. Black marble made
up the walls and floor, the heavens shown above her, and it had been enchanted
to look like a piece of the forest.

Pines and cedars stretched to impossible heights, circling
the pool and giving it a secluded feeling that she cherished. As she drew
nearer to the pool and passed into the ring of trees, the marble faded to black
soil and lush grass, the rich smell of earth drowning out the incense and
striking a chord deep within her. Letting her night robe fall from her
shoulders, she slid into the heated water and very nearly moaned in pleasure. A
bench ran around the circumference of the pool two or three feet under the
surface, and she let herself sink onto it, the steam curling around her face
and over her head. Relaxing, her hair streaming out like dark seaweed, she let
her thoughts wander.

First, of course, came memories of being Marked, of being
filled to the brim with divinity until she'd been screaming in agony and
ecstasy all at once. Cocidius had twisted and molded her soul, tying it
inexorably with His own and with Virginia, Blaise and Draco's. She had known
everything about them in those moments, had seen inside them just as they had
seen inside her. Then had come all four's binding to the twins, and she had
once more been soaking in thoughts and memories not her own. It had been
strange, and yet, at the same time, utterly natural. Then Cocidius had sent the
twins out to refuse entrance to anyone else while He'd given them their full
inheritances.

Virginia, who could control any flame that she came across,
was the first that He'd awakened to new abilities. He'd shown her how to use
pure, scorching heat and receive devastating effects for her efforts. Padma had
bnextnext, and her power over the earth, over all things green and growing, had
expanded to where she could harness even gravity. Blaise had been the third to
succumb, and the air itself now called him Lord, obeying his slightest whim.
Draco had been the last, his mastery growing to encompass water in all its
shapes and forms, from the ice he was already familiar with to the salty sea.

They had told no one besides the twins of these new
abilities, but Padma was sure that Pansy and Anton would be informed soon
enough. Shen't n't have any problems with that, as she knew that they had been
good friends to the others. But she didn't, under any circumstances, want the
Gryffindors to know yet. She trusted the Slytherins that her fellow Chosen
trusted, and she trusted the twins, but she didn't trust the other Gryffindors.
Or anyone else, really. She'd learned early in life that there were few you
could ever put your faith in safely, so she didn't. Not that there was really a
problem there, since she hadn't had any real friends to begin with.

Not until now. Before, she'd kept herself distant and aloof
from everyone, which had worked out fine, considering that her Housemates were
too busy to socialize most of the time, anyway. The few that had approached her
had been boys, and she had seen right through them with a single glance. The
girls were all too intimidated by her name and her blank, haughty exterior to
do more than say 'hello' in the mornings, and she'd liked that just fine. The
majority of people were too fake for her tastes, even her Housemates, who were
praised for their wisdom and intelligence. So she'd had no friends, but many
would say that that didn't matter since she had a twin. Not true.

'Oh, Parvati,' she thought with a weary sigh. Thoughts of
her sister never consisted of anything good. And no matter how many times she
tried to make herself stop loving the stupid bitch, she couldn't. Oh, she
loathed her, abhorred her, despised her, but she could never seem to hate her.
No matter how many times Parvati had lied to her, used her, vented her anger on
her, Padma still could not turn her back on her mirror image. But then again,
they had stopped being perfect mirror images years ago, hadn't they? It was
their curse, after all. Twins like Fred and George, who were rumored to share a
single soul, stayed completely identical in every way until they died.

But twins like her and Parvati…In another ten years, people
would have a hard time even realizing that they were sisters. Every day they
became more and more different, although the changes took a while to become
noticeable, the process happening gradually. She actually appreciated the fact
that they were no longer exactly the same, but deep inside her, in the farthest
reaches of her heart, she'd resented it. She'd resented the fact that she
couldn't have had the same connection with Parvati that Fred and George had
with each other, resented the fact that what could have been her greatest end end had instead been someone who couldn't stand to be around her.

But that had changed with the Marking, with the bonding,
just as so many other things had changed. She didn't feel empty anymore, didn't
feel as if there was a part of her missing. She felt whole for the first time
in her life, and she reveled in it. It's what had given her the ability to
stand up to her sister, the one person that she never had before. She'd always
been quick to tell people what she thought of them, although she usually did itth nth no more than a calm, judging, disdainful look. But Parvati had been a
different case altogether. Because she had always secretly desired her twin's
affection. So she had tolerated the hurtful words and painful blows.

How many times had she been forced to hide the bruises her
sister had inflicted on her during one of her jealous rages? She could have
easily overpowered Parvati, but she hadn't. She'd just sat there, as steady and
unfeeling as the ground beneath her feet, finding that serene spot within
herself that she had used so often to escape. That had, of course, enraged her
twin even more, and Parvati had taught herself some vicious little tricks over
the years, trying her damnedest to break Padma's detached, stony wall. She
never had, though, and it had only intensified her dislike for her sister.
Dislike that had rooted itself inside heen ten they were only toddlers.

It had started, to the best of Padma's knowledge, when they
had begun speaking. Padma had caught on much quicker than her twin had, and
their parents had praised her for it. Then she had taught herself to read
before she could even run without falling down, and her parents had whispered
'Ravenclaw' and 'Head Girl' in hushed voices, although at the time, neither
girl had known what they were talking about. Their entire family had treated
them differently after that, cooing over Padma and scolding Parvati, telling
her that she would never be a match for her sister if she didn't start acting
more like her.

But it hadn't been until they were five or so that their
parents had started downright insulting her. They'd treated Padma like an angel
that could do no wrong, naming her their true heir even though her twin was two
minutes older, and they'd either completely ignore Parvati or have a scathing
comment ready at a moment's notice. By the time that they were seven, Parvati
couldn't take a drink of water without messing up somehow, and Padma couldn't
so much as sneeze without them fawning all over her, making sure that their
'perfect' daughter wasn't falling ill. By their ninth birthday, Parvati was
releasing her anger and pain on Padma.

At first, Padma had let her because she'd felt that she owed
it to her sister for possessing all of their parents' affection. So she'd lain
still and sedate on the floor of their bedroom while her blood had run over
white marble, telling herself that Parvati didn't mean it, that she didn't
really want to hurt her. That illusion hadn't been shattered until their fifth
year at Hogwarts. Par had had often come to her room, something that was
accepted by the other Ravenclaws since they were sisters, sometimes only to
yell and complain, other times to let her fists and feet fly as she cursed and
told Padma how worthless and utterly unloved she was.

But then Parvati had doometomethinglishlish. For over a
year, she had been gushing over Blaise, and her greatest desire had been for
him to ask to her the Yule Ball in their fourth year. He hadn't, of course, but
she'd waited and waited, refusing to let Padma go with anyone because she'd
said that Draco would need a date too, as he was Blaise's best friend. Padma
had told her that it was stupid, that those two had their pick of the Slytherin
girls, but Parvati hadn't listened. The gleam in her eyes had grown until it
was quite worrisome, and it wasn't until they'd heard that Draco was going with
Pansy and Blaise with Melody that she'd finally given up.

Harry had asked her later that same night, and she'd
accepted, dragging Padma along with her on what had turned out to be a
laughable double date. Parvati's obsession had stayed strong afterwards, and
Padma had heard little else from her except some drivel about her 'profound
talent in Divination', which Parvati had played up to ridiculous levels.
Anything to be better than Padma in any way. But it wasn't until the beginning
of winter in their fifth year that Parvati had lost her grip on reality and
approached Blaise early one night in the library. Padma had been there,
although Parvati hadn't seen her, and she'd been so shocked to see her twin in
the library that she'd frozen.

Realization had come quickly, however, when Parvati had
drawn herself up to her full height and stalked over to the raven-haired
Slytherin, who had been scanning one of the shelves for some book or another.
Padma had wanted nothing more than to stop her, but she'd known that any
interference from her wouldn't have been appreciated. Parvati hadn't even said
anything, just spun him around by one shoulder and planted her lips on his as
if she owned them. Blaise had shoved her away violently, snarling and wiping
his mouth off with one sleeve, letting loose a stream of insults and curses
that had had Parvati sobbing before he'd left.

Padma hadn't revealed herself, for she'd known how quickly
those tears could turn to slicing nails and sharp teeth, but she'd stayed awake
that night until Parvati had come. She hadn't gotten any sleep, as usual, and
had almost been too tired to do the necessary glamour spells in time for her
classes the next morning. Surprisingly, Parvati had somehow convinced herself
that Blaise was simply playing hard to get, and she'd stared at him with misty
eyes the entire day. That night, they'd been on their way to the Ravenclaw
common room when they'd been pulled into a shadowy corridor, and they'd been
surprised to see Draco before them, his wand out and pointed at Parvati
threateningly.

He'd told her, ignoring Padma after a short nod in her
direction, that she was to stay the fuck away from Blaise and keep her eyes off
of him, because if he ever smelt her sneaky, slimy scent on him again, it would
turn rank and rotting, as he would bury her in a discreet, quiet grave with
worms and slugs as her only companions. To emphasize his point, he'd hexed her
eyes shut. Madam Pompfrey hadn't been able to do anything, forced to let the
spell fade on its own, which had ended up taking three days. When Parvati had
been released, her hopes crushed and shattered, the following beating had been
much more severe than any preceding it, and those had been bad enough.

It was that night, looking deeper into her twin's eyes then
she'd ever allowed herself to before, that she'd experienced a sort of
enlightenment. Parvati wasn't doing it because she couldn't help it, nor was
she doing it because she didn't know that it was wrong. Because she could help
it, and she did know that it was wrong, but she didn't care. She honestly loved
to see Padma's skin split open, and she was never more delighted then when she
was causing her sister pain. She did it because she wanted to; she did it
because she hadn't become quite sick and twisted enough to poison Padma yet, as
she so desired to do.

Those bits of knowledge had been the first that Padma had
ever wanted to throw away and forget, and they had hit her like a knife in the
heart. Her sister didn't just dislike her. She truly hated her. And so for the
first and last time, Padma's inner peace had been slaughtered brutally,
weakening and crumbling under the one thing that she hadn't had any defenses
against. She'd been a shell orselrself for days afterwards, missing classes for
the first time, since she'd refused to leave her room. She'd just sat in her
window seat, thankful for once that her parents had favored her more and had
arranged for her to have her own room.

She'd piled all of the plants that choked the free space in
her room that her books didn't nd tnd the window, burying her fingers in the
soil and blanking her mind, closing her emotional wounds away as she'd always
done, although it had taken quite a bit longer that time. When she'd finally
reemerged from her reclusive retreat, four days had passed and she didn't speak
a word to her sister for weeks, barring her room at night and ignoring
Parvati's demands to let her in. Nothing had been the same after that, and
Padma had become even more drawn and secretive than before, throwing herself
into her studies zealously and barely able to eat more than a bite at a time.

Parvati had haunted her steps for months, trying to make her
life as miserable as possible, but Padma had been unreachable by then, her
heart hardened and her spirit half-dead. Her Housemates had begun to think of
her as a living ghost, avoiding her at all costs, as her eyes seemed to spook
them in a way that they couldn't comprehend. 'How,' she would hear them mumble
amongst themselves when they thought that she couldn't hear, 'can a person's
eyes hold such tranquility and yet such wounded sorrow?' She never bothered to
answer them. They didn't truly care anyway, as long as she stayed to herself
and kept her eerie eyes lowered.

Before that revealing night, before ati ati had splayed open
her soul and stolen something that she'd thought to be irreplaceable, her pride
and inborn arrogance would never have allowed her to do so, would have demanded
that she confront those who whispered and hissed their suspicions. But that had
been before. Her new wraith-like self hadn't minded as long as they'd left her
alone, as well. And that's when she and Parvati had begun to lose their
identical faces and forms. Parvati had stayed much the same, but Padma had
filled out, her flat lines turning into curves and her body taking on a
strength reminiscent of the earth that she so adored.

Her dark eyes had slowly begun to take on hints of green,
her cheekbones had become finer and sharper, and her lips had turned full and
pouty. In contrast, Parvati's eyes had lightened to a muddy brown, her cheeks
were a bit rounder and constantly red, and her lips were barely more than thin,
pale lines cutting across her sour face. Padma had still possessed enough of
her old ego to take some pleasure in those facts, but not enough to set her
free from her self-inflicted prison. That hadn't happened until that fateful
day in Paris, when she had known, jsuddsuddenly known, that she was finally
needed somewhere.

The Marking had done wonders for her, slamming through the
bars of her inner cage and returning her agto wto what she had once been,
proud, arrogant and self-assured. For the first time in her life, she had
people that truly cared for her and that she knew would never leave her or turn
on her. It was a new, exciting feeling, one that filled her previously callous
heart with joy and wonder. Colors seemed brighter, birds sounded sweeter, and
she no longer dreaded waking up in the morning. The place that Parvati had
never really filled was practically stuffed now, and she had never known such
happiness as she had in the laew dew days.

Drifting out of her thoughts as she felt a familiar presence
enter the bath with her, she was shocked to find tears streaming continuously
down her cheeks. Fiery arms wrapped around her comfortingly and she buried her
head in Virginia's shoulder a second before the vision engulfed them both. The
trees around them swirled and changed, everything becoming dark, and both would
have panicked had their Marks not tingled, telling them that it was a genuine
vision and not one from some malevolent source. Calming a bit, they watched
silently as walls formed around them, flickering dimly in the weak light.

A figure solidified out of nothing, and Padma started when
she recognized herself. She was searching for something, her attention fully on
her task, and neither she nor Virginia could do hinghing as another figure,
this one hooded, took shape, a long coil of metal in one hand and a
wicked-looking scimitar in the other. Some sort of charm hung around its neck,
and although they couldn't see it well enough to identify it, it was obvious
that it was allowing the wearer to sneak up on Padma without her noticing. The
metal whip lashed out, wrapping around Padma's throat from behind, and they
knew it was made of davasca when her skin started smoking and blistering.

She was yanked backwards, falling hard to the ground as she
tried desperately to free herself, her strength already being drained by the
damnable whip. The figure closed on her, standing above her and raising the
blade in its hand high. A pleased, sadistic laugh flowed like vile music from
underneath the hood a moment before the blade came down, piercing her chest and
causing her to convulse, her hands wrapping around it as she vainly tried to
pull the sword free. Then her eyes glazed, her fingers falling away limply, and
her attacker pulled back its hood, revealing itself to her as she took her last
breath before death claimed her.

It was Parvati.

Screaming, Padma snapped out of the vision, her whole body
trembling violently as she dry-heaved, choked sobs racking her slender frame.
The arms around her tightened almost painfully, Virginia's voice murmuring
soothing words in fluent French as her hands ran through Padma's hair and down
her back in repeated, continuous movements. She vaguely heard the doors to her bedroom
crashing open and into the walls, was distantly aware of four more bodies
sliding fully clothed into the water as they surrounded her. The Marks were
thrown open, their love and unwavering devotion swamping her, and her tears
stopped slowly, her world righting itself once again.

"I'm sorry." She was finally able to get out
minutes later, the Marks closing gently once more and leaving them to their own
thoughts.

"You have absolutely no reason to apologize, do you
hear me?" Fred said, his voice breaking the slightest bit. They'd seen
what the girls had seen when they'd opened the Marks, and none of them seemed
very happy about it. She could feel Virginia's
arms practically vibrating, and when she looked up, she saw it was in anger.

"I'm going to fucking kill her." Virginia
said in a low, even tone, her charcoal eyes burning brightly with fury.
"I'm going to string her up by her fucking hair and leave her for the
Nundu to 'play' with. How dare she, how—"

"It was only a vision." Padma said, scrubbing the
last of the tears from her face. "She hasn't really done anything
yet."

"'Hasn't done anything'?" George questioned with a
nasty sneer. "She's done more than enough already to warrant the removal
of her more important organs by a helpful hand. Preferably my helpful
hand."

A bit surprised at the vehemence in his voice and eyes,
Padma bit her lip and wondered how she'd lived without these people for so
long. She knew that if she were ever to be forced back into her former
seclusion at this point, she would never be able to survive it. Not now that
she knew what it was like to be truly loved, not now that she had finally found
real friendship. Just the thought of never seeing them again, of never speaking
to them again, was almost too depressing to bear. She knew that she would do
anything, anything ll, ll, for any one of them should they need it. She knew
that she would lie, steal, cheat and kill if it came down to it, and she
wondered why that thought didn't bother her.

"Please," she finally said, letting herself sink
farther into the hot water, "I just want to forget about it. We can think
on it later, alright?" She could feel their hesitation, but they all
agreed, however reluctantly, in the end.

"Fine." Blaise sighed, flicking a handful of water
at her playfully. "We have business to take care of anyway."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Lycelle stared blankly at the items Hermione had laid out on
the top of her bureau, before shaking her head and throwing her hands in the
air.

"And just what, exactly, do you wish for me to do with
those?" She asked the other girl, and Hermione laughed.

"Oh, come on, Lycelle, you do make-up charms all the
time. This is just the muggle way to go about it." Hermione said, trying
to keep a straight face as Lycelle's nose crinkled in distaste. "Look, let
me show you. Come here." Lycelle did so, moving to Hermione's side slowly,
her eyes never leaving the small, 'plasteek' containers, as Hermione called
them, since she was a bit worried about them exploding or some such. She didn't
trust muggle products at all, especially when Hermione picked up some weird
little brush and told her to close her eyes.

"Why?" She asked warily, eying the little white
brush as if it were some foul insect. Hermione groaned.

"Damn paranoid pureblood." She muttered, and
pushed Lycelle down onto the chair that she had moved over earlier. "It
won't bite, I promise. Now will you please close your eyes?"

"Alright. But I really don't want to. And if
this…messes up somehow, I swear I'll never forgive you." Lycelle
threatened, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah." Then she was dipping the brush into
some dark gray powdery stuff, and Lycelle felt butterflies root themselves in
her stomach. Why had she agreed to this? Why?

"Umm, you know what? On second thought—"

"I don't think so." Hermione said, putting a
restraining hand on her shoulder. "You're not getting out of this that
easily. Now, just hold still and close your eyes."

So Lycelle did, against her better judgment. Calling on
every bit of self-control that she possessed, she made not so much as a single
sound while Hermione ran the brush lightly over her closed eyelids. Her entire
body was rigid, awaiting something awful, and she was quite surprised when
nothing horrible happened. Her cheeks were next, then her lips, and when she
was finally told to open her eyes again, she caught sight of herself in the
mirror and stared. It was almost as good as a cosmetic spell. The lines weren't
as straight and seamless, the colors weren't as perfect, but it was actually
pretty good for some strange muggle concoction.

"Lady Park'nson?" A house elf suddenly called from
the doorway, and they turned to face it.

"Yes?"

"The Masters reques' your presence in the Judging Room.
They say you bring her, as well." It said formally, and a chill shot down
Lycelle's spine.

The Judging Room. This in no way could be a good thing.
She'd never been there before, but she'd heard it spoken of in low, frightened
whispers. The House Seat of every Lord or Lady had one, but none so feared as
the ones at Malfoy Manor and Tenebre Stella. Because among their people, the
Malfoys and Zabinis were the closest thing that they still had to monarchs,
being as powerful as they were, not to mention direct descendents from the last
true sovereigns, and within those rooms, their word was as good as law. Fear
making her legs weak, Lycelle rose shakily, worrying Hermione with her pale
complexion and wide, alarmed eyes.

"Lycelle? What is it?"

"Do not speak." Lycelle said mechanically, pulling
Hermione to her feet. "Whatever you do, say not a word until you are
addressed. Do not make eye contact unless you mean it as a challenge or a
threat, and obey the rules of courtly protocol the best you can. And pray, to
whatever god or gods you believe in, that we both make it out of that room
alive and in one piece."

Hermione blanched, but kept her lips tightly sealed as they
swept out of the room, following the small, lofty elf that kept shooting venomous
looks over its bony shoulder at Hermione. Lycelle's dread grew with every step
that they took, and she racked her brain, trying to figure out what they had
done to merit such a summons. They wound deeper and deeper into the heart of
the Manor, walking for what felt like hours before they came out into a foyer
done in unrelieved black, the only illumination a single ball of witchlight
near the ceiling. They were confused and surprised to see the others who were
still staying at the Manor there as well.

They were lined up before two obsidian doors in pairs,
Narcissa and Silana at the head. Severus and Armynel were next, then Pansy and
Anton, Melody and Daphne, Crabbe and Goyle. Mira was gone, needed back at
Beauxbatons to sign her transfer papers. She had decided, after seeing
firsthand how much shit her cousin and his lovers were dealing with, that she
would finish off her sixth year and her seventh at Hogwarts. Since only fools
ignored a veela's instincts, her mother and Madame Maxime had consented to the
transfer, as had Dumbledore when he'd been contacted the day before. Her
presence at the school was sure to make things anything but boring.

The Weasleys were there as well, Molly and Arthur at the
head of their family. Bill and Charlie were next in line, then Ron and Sirius,
who was once more in his own body. Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair
when she saw him, dropping her eyes to the floor as she and Lycelle went to
stand behind them. If Lycelle hadn't been so nervous about whatever was about to
happen, she would have laughed when she saw Ron. The neon pink scales had
mostly disappeared, but patches of them still remained, and by the way he was
constantly scratching some part of himself, they itched terribly. The room grew
chilly suddenly, and a ghost floated through the doors.

It was tall and thin, dressed in a tunic and open robes that
were more than three hundred years outdated, and it carried it self with a
dignified air. Its features resembled Draco's too strongly for it to be
anything but a Malfoy, and the cold glare that it leveled on them was so
reminiscent of their silver prince that it only solidified that belief. It said
nothing, simply beckoned despotically for them to follow it. It slid back
through the doors and they swung open slowly, allowing them all to shuffle
inside before they closed again without so much as a 'click'. Taking a deep
breath and steeling herself when she felt the dark, dangerous power cloaking
the room, Lycelle looked up.

The walls and floor were the same black marble that most of
the Manor was done in, but the walls were covered in tapestries that had been
saved from the burning of the last great Imperial Palace, which had occurred
when the last altar had run dry more than a thousand years before. The stitched
scenes depicted the royals through the ages, and Lycelle couldn't stare long at
them without feeling a great well of sadness and remorse rise up from some
place deep inside her. Silver candelabra stood in all four corners of the room,
and two stood to either side of the altar that was once more trickling
crystalline water, creating a lulling, soothing melody.

But even that couldn't stop Lycelle's heart from pounding
madly, and it was with great trepidation that she glanced toward the front of
the large room. Two caliginous, imposing thrones sat in the dead center of a
raised dais, and four slightly smaller ones flanked them, two on each side.
They were made of a black metal that she couldn't identify until their group
drew closer, and when she did, her knees nearly gave out. Ebentine. Sweet gods,
the thrones were made from solid chunks of pure ebentine. She had thought that
Blaise's swords were the largest pieces of the metal still left in their world,
but she had, apparently, been mistaken.

Seated upon the ce thr thrones were Draco and Blaise, both
of whom were clothed in the ethereal black robes that they'd been wearing when
they'd come out of that pit on the Quidditch pitch. Virginia
also wore her robe of the same material, as did Padma, Fred and George, although
Lycelle had no idea where the latter three had gotten theirs. They were seated
as they'd been at the Yule Ball, Virginia on Draco's left and Fred beside her,
his throne a little behind hers and to the side, just as hers was to Draco's.
Padma was on Blaise's right, George beside her, and Lycelle knew that the four
secondary thrones would usually have held siblings or heirs.

They sat with straight backs, their hands curled loosely
around the arms of their thrones and their faces devoid oy emy emotion whatsoever.
On the wall behind the dais hung two huge crests, the Malfoy one on Draco's
side and the Zabini one on Blaise's. The tips of the swords met in the center,
and the colors that made up the crests were impossibly vibrant. Their group
stopped before the dais and spread out into a single, horizontal line, everyone
kneeling and bowing their heads. Ron refused at first, but Sirius pulled him
down roughly, giving him a stern, hard look that clearly said he'd better
behave himself. Draco was the first to break the silence, getting right to the
point.

"Someone," he started in a spectral, ominous
voice, "has been leaking information to Voldemort." Everyone froze,
and not so much as a single, indrawn breath could be heard for what felt like
forever. It was worse than she'd thought.

"He's known too much that he shouldn't have,"
Blaise continued, his voice as unearthly as Draco's, "and we will not
tolerate traitors. So you all have two choices."

"The first," Draco supplied, "is to take
Veritaserum and prove your innocence. The second is to leave immediately, and
from this day forward attempt no contact with any of us. There are no
exceptions." Everything was still for another long moment until Pansy and
Anton both lifted theeadseads.

"We will drink, my lords." They said together,
their fingers tightly intertwined. A second later, a house elf appeared with a
vial in each hand and handed them to them. Pansy and Anton each took one,
grimaced slightly, and drained them without any farther hesitation. Both fell
forward onto their hands, their knuckles turning white as their fingers
clenched into fists, and they gritted their teeth against the pain, not so much
as a whimper escaping them. Draco spoke to Anton first once they'd started
breathing normally again.

"Your name?"

"Anton Adrien McGregor."

"Your heart?"

"She kneels beside me."

"Your loyalty?"

"To you, Lord Zabini and your Lady, my lord."

"Never."

"Have you ever met the Dark Lord Voldemort, known in
some circles as Tom Marvolo Riddle?"

"Once, my lord."

"And what was said?"

"He offered me a place in his ranks upon my
majority."

"Did you accept?"

"And kneel to a halfblood? Of course not, my lord."

"Were you punished for your refusal?"

"Yes. But I cared not."

"Have you ever, at any time, given Voldemort or any of
his supporters any sort of information?"

"No. I would never betray you in such a way, my
lord."

"As you say. You may rise."

Anton did so, and Pansy went next. Slowly, they all had
their turn, the questions changing to suit whoever was being asked. But when
they reached the last person and all had been able to state that they weren't
spying for Dark Lord, the six figures on the dais looked even more suspicious
than before. They went ahead and countered the truth potion, however, as it
could tell them no more than it already had, and they dampened their power to a
less suffocating level. No longer feeling as if she were a mouse who'd been
pinned to the floor by an enormous cat, she noticed the others around her
relaxing as well, the worst part over and done with. Or so she'd thought.

"You have asked your questions of us and received your
answers." Narcissa pointed out. "And now we have some questions of
our own."

"Ask them, then." Her son replied.

"Is she your lover?" Narcissa asked what had been
on all of their minds for days, and they all leaned forward a bit in
anticipation of his response. But Draco simply ed aed an eyebrow, giving his
mother an odd look.

"Are you feeling alright today, mother? We've been with
Virginia for months, you know this."

 p>

"Yes." Narcissa agreed. "But I'm not speaking
of her." She said, and Virginia rose out of her throne in a liquid,
graceful movement, her eyes flashing angrily.

"And who else would they be sleeping with,
exactly?" She demanded, and Narcissa cocked her head to the side.

"The Patil girl, of course." She said, her blue
eyes trailing over to Padma.

"What?" All six of those on the dais exclaimed,
their impassive masks cracking and revealing their sheer disbelief. They stared
at Narcissa as if she'd sprouted a second head and set her hair on fire in the
process, and Virginia sank bonelessly back into her th, he, her mouth hanging
open the tiniest bit. Narcissa fidgeted minutely.

"Well, you can't blame me for asking." She huffed.
"I know you didn't exchange gifts with her at the ball, but we didn't know
if you'd just wanted to keep it quiet."

"I can't fucking believe this." Blaise murmured.
"And who is 'we'?" No one spoke, but all donned guilty expressions.
"Are you telling me that all of you have been sitting around, pondering
our love lives?" Again, no one said anything.

"Fabulous." Draco sneered. "I'm so very glad
that we've given you ample fodder for rumors and speculation on something that
is none of your goddamned business."

"And even if it were," Blaise added, his tone
menacing, "which it is not, what difference would it make if we'd decided
to take a bloody Dementor to our bed? Would you gossip about that as
well?"

"Apparently so." Virginia hissed when the silence
stretched on. "They seem to view our love as weak and shallow, open and
flexible, since we number three instead of two. What difference would a forth
make then, hmm? Isn't that what you've all been thinking?" At that point,
no one could have met her eyes had they wished to, which they didn't. Amazing,
it was, how quickly their curiosity had turned to shame.

"Well," Draco said, his voice much, much too quiet
and calm, "I cannot express how happy it makes me to know that you all
think so little of us as to assume that we woulrsakrsake our devotion to one
another in such a way."

"It wouldn't be very surprising." Ron mumbled,
obviously still angry that his mother had forced him to take the Veritaserum,
and six sets of piercing eyes landed on him at once. He flinched back from
their acidic glares, his freckles standing out darkly as the blood drained from
his face.

"Watch your tongue." The twins warned, looking
about a second away from springing and ripping it out themselves. Ron shook his
head, and when he responded, his eyes looked much younger than usual, as if he
were but a child again.

"Why you you even up there with them?"

"Because it's where we belong." The twins said in
unison, their dark blue eyes lit up with certainty.

"You belong with your family!" Ron insisted.

"Where do you think we are?" They mocked, and his
face fell. "And out of the others in this room that we also call family,
you are not one of them."

"This is ridiculous!" Ron said once he'd found his
voice again, the 'little brother' look gone and replaced with something cruel.
"I don't know what lies they've filled your heads with, what false
promises they've made you, but it's quite clear that they're lying again now!
They have to be fucking her, or they wouldn't have let her get so close so
fast! What else could do that but the drugging lust that they're infamous
for?" He obviously hadn't been informed of Padma's Mark.

"Silence." D com commanded, slamming a hand down
on the arm of his throne, the heavy, stifling feeling of raw power descending
on the room's occupants once more. "I will say this once and once only,
and I swear that if I hear another word about it, the speaker will be beyond
sorry. Neither Blaise, Virginia nor I will ever take another lover. Padma means
the world to us, but we do not crave her flesh, nor does she crave ours. We
will protect her, fight for her, cherish her, but we will never bed her. Our
souls are tied with hers, but our hearts have long been given fully to each
other and only to each other. We have no room or passion left within them to
spare for anyone else, nor would we wish to."

"Come." Blaise said after a moment, rising and
speaking to the others on the dais with him, ignoring the chastised faces of
those in front of him. They rose at his summons, looking affronted and
insulted, and Virginia asked a last, stinging question before they swept out of
the room too fast for anyone else's eyes to follow.

"Are you satisfied?"

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

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