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Dieu De La Lune Foncée
By RaistlinofMetallica
Chapter 27: Se Non è Vero, è Ben Trovato
"...The Lestrange brothers are in cells twenty-nine and thirty. Bellatrix, however, was placed deeper in the facility on sublevel two, cell sixty," one of the Death Eaters pointed out. "She was moved there about a year after the escape of her cousin, Sirius Black. It is rumoured that they will be transferring our remaining captive brethren to these underground cells during the winter holidays. These cells will be harder to escape from and much harder to get to."
Lord Voldemort narrowed his eyes at the plans and considered a moment before replying. "I want the exact date that the prisoner transfer is to take place and several prepared one-way portkeys. They will expect us to portkey directly back here. However, I want the portkeys to only go as far as the shore, at these four points." Here he marked four separate locations on the shoreline and then continued, "Once there, it is a simple matter of bringing them here. I don't perceive this to be a problem."
"That leaves only the guards," a second, shorter Death Eater said.
The Dark Lord's eyes flashed dangerously and, slowly, a wicked smile spread across his face. "I will deal with the Dementors. I have an offer for them that they simply can't refuse."
Nox watched this exchange through half-lidded eyes, his hand supporting his chin as he leaned on the arm of the chair. The seer appeared to be preoccupied with something and had hardly said a word since taking his seat, a fact that was unnerving the Dark Lord greatly. Never before had the seer behaved like this during a meeting. He had always held himself like a snake about to strike and, while the air of a predator that surrounded him certainly hadn't faded, he was certainly not giving much mind to the subject at hand. What could be troubling the seer so much that it demanded his full attention?
"That is all for now. You are dismissed," Lord Voldemort announced finally. "Nox, I want a word with you."
The seer stood and bowed his head in acknowledgement, but otherwise remained where he was while the Death Eaters exited the room. The black staff that was always at his side was still leaning against the wall, untouched. It seemed to deepen the shadows and chill the air around it, and those Death Eaters that moved past it couldn't help shivering slightly. Voldemort wondered briefly where Nox had come across such an unusual artefact and what the true extents of its powers were, but that was something to attend to at a later time.
Shortly, only the seer and the Dark Lord remained in the room, silence hanging heavily in the air.
"You wanted to speak with me?" asked Nox, his lips twisting into an eerie smile.
Lord Voldemort nodded once, sharply. "You seem troubled, seer. Did you see something unfavourable in my plans?"
The seer's grin grew wider and a soft chuckle escaped from the depths of his hood. "Far from it, actually. Azkaban will not be a problem, nor will the Dementors prove a challenge. Why, even the prophecy that dogs your heels will be yours!"
"That is reassuring, Nox," the Dark Lord said and, inwardly, he wondered how Nox knew that he still planned to retrieve the prophecy, as he had not yet informed anyone of his intention to do so. Smoothly, he added, "But I am forced to wonder just what could have possibly distracted you from tonight's meeting. You don't seem the type that gets out of sorts over the little things, so I must conclude that it was something truly worrisome indeed."
Nox stiffened, his smile vanishing, and crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't need to tell you anything that doesn't concern you."
"I beg to differ," Voldemort said in a deadly tone. "You serve me, so everything you see in your visions concerns me. And, while I might find you useful, don't bother to think for even a minute that I wouldn't kill you if you kept any details from me. I can always find another seer..."
The seer did not reply immediately; instead, he turned away and gently placed his hand on the black staff. "Chaos draws near and, already, his servants are searching this world for the brightest and most powerful souls," he said, quietly. "You will be safe, for now. It will take them time to find their way here."
"I've been meaning to ask you about that, Nox, and what you said earlier about my soul..." the Dark Lord began.
Nox suddenly pitched forward, grabbing his forehead, and let out a single, piercing scream.
Alarmed, Voldemort momentarily reeled back a step but quickly recovered and hastily moved towards the seer. "What is it, Nox? Is it a vision?"
"My friends," Nox answered shakily, steadying himself on a nearby chair. He grabbed his staff, drawing it close. "My friends are in danger! I have to go!"
There was a wild, desperate edge to the seer's voice that had never been there before and, if it had been anyone else, Voldemort would have called it panic. But this was Nox, who had never once shown an inkling of anything other than vitriolic disrespect and artful shrewdness in the entire time since his appearance. It had to have been a pretty disturbing vision to stir some semblance of humanity in the seer.
"Tell me what you saw, Nox," the Dark Lord said.
The seer attempted to shove past him without success. "I have to leave, now!"
"Tell me what you saw!" Voldemort demanded, rapidly growing angry. He had caught the young man by the arm and had a pretty good grip on him.
Nox growled and, under his hood, blue pinpricks of light gleamed from where his eyes should have been. "Let me go! My friends are in danger!"
"I'll let you go when you tell me what you saw!" the Dark Lord snarled back, hiding a cry of pain. Somehow, Nox's arm was becoming painfully hot to the touch and it felt like he was holding onto fire, without the benefit of a flame-freezing charm.
The seer glared at him for a moment and, finally, he turned his head away. "I saw the now. Servants of Chaos are attacking my friends even as we speak. They are in grave danger, more so than anyone, because they, like you, have strong souls – some of the strongest in this time. And, what is more," he paused, suddenly seeming very nervous. "Your mother... her spirit is among them."
"What?" Voldemort breathed, immediately letting go of the seer in his surprise.
Nox bowed his head and spoke again. "She was reborn, among my friends. But why, I cannot say. Just, please, let me go to them... They need my help!"
"Who is she?" the Dark Lord managed, mentally still reeling. "Where...?"
The seer merely shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you that. I have to leave!" he insisted, marching out and into the hall.
Voldemort hastily ran to the doors. "Nox, wait!"
"Don't worry! I'll protect her, I promise!" Nox shouted over his shoulder as he began to run down the corridor. With a sudden flash of bright light, he was gone.
The Dark Lord stood alone in the empty corridor for several minutes, staring at the space where the seer had disappeared in silence. Prayers from long ago, spoken through tears, that he'd long thought unanswered came drifting back to him from deep within. The one thing he'd wanted most of all... "It isn't fair," he whispered, clenching his hands into fists until his nails dug painfully into the skin of his palms. "It isn't fair that you got to know her and I never did."
He shook his head and forced himself to calm down. It took some considerable effort to bury those painful memories once more and it left him with the strange comfort that, in some way, his most precious prayer had been answered. Finally, Voldemort looked up again and sighed, "So she's really come back after all this time..."
And she was in terrible danger at this very moment, while he was helpless to do anything to save her. The Dark Lord frowned, looking down at his hands; he had no right to save his mother with his hands so stained in blood, even if he did know who and where she was now. He bowed his head and whispered, "Protect her for me, Nox. God knows I can't."
I'll protect her, I promise!
Somehow, somewhere deep inside his soul, Lord Voldemort knew that the seer would keep his vow. For the first time in many years, he smiled – a genuine smile that seemed slightly out of place on him. And, if one looked hard enough, one might see not a feared Dark Lord, but a short, skinny little boy with black hair wrapped in a quilt, smiling broadly at some hidden knowledge that things wouldn't always be bad.
Everything will be all right.
"Yes," he said absently. "It will be all right. I'm sure of it."
He smiled and replied coolly, "I am where I am supposed to be."
"What of your progress?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.
Dragon was awakening from his slumber, drawing ever closer to breaking the seal on his past and the curse on his soul. The Dark Lord's messenger had arrived and was sleeping in content, dreaming the dreams of the innocent. The wings of his angel wrapped protectively around his friends and the dagger was his. Countless gears were turning now and the stage was almost set.
He continued counting the quills in the back of his mind and answered, "They trust me implicitly."
"Take care, cousin, that you do not expose us," Luna said, narrowing her eyes at him.
He gave her a wicked smirk. "Likewise, dear cousin."
"I am careful," she frowned, greatly annoyed.
He slowly raised his eyes to her, a malicious grin on his lips. "But what of Snape? You enjoy his presence too much, cousin." He paused, eyes gleaming darkly, and added, "You know affairs with humans do not end well."
Snape grew older, his hair grey and silver. He looked tired and ancient, but Luna had not changed. She was still a young woman, forever beautiful and, yet, her eyes were fathomless with age.
"You think I have forgotten, Night?" Luna snarled, her cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment. "I am..."
A blood red moon hung in the sky, with seven red-robed figures standing beneath it. Luna danced on the red moon, a crimson veil draped over her face. Illusions sprung from her footsteps and transformed into dust, while stars circled her wrists and ankles in gleaming light.
"...of the red moon. I protect my own, as you protect yours!" she snapped, pointing at him.
The red-robed ones were hers. Those who walked under her light were not like his, they who wore black robes. She had many of them, devoted to maintaining the balance between the dark and the light. His were fewer in number, secretive and ambitious, but they were powerful and clever. Darkness surrounded their hearts and magic. Those craving power, with darkness tainting them always found their way to him. But here the colour of one's robes didn't matter, only the colour of their heart and soul – the colour of their magic.
He laughed at her naivety. "A Death Eater? One of yours?" Giving her a smug smile, he continued, "He and all his kind are mine!"
Yes, that was right. They belonged to him. Their hearts were stained black with blood, vanity and avarice. But he wouldn't turn them away. He never did.
"You forget your mission and your place!" Luna shouted angrily.
He had touched a nerve and he knew it. He glared back at her, unflinching. "This counsel is finished."
"For now, cousin," she said, curling her lip in disdain, and then gestured to the entire class. "Remember, they are mortal."
He turned to look at them, watching in horror as his friends and classmates began to age rapidly. He ran forward, reaching for them with hands that didn't change, but he was too late. Their bones were already falling, turning into dust and scattering on the wind. He sunk to his knees and began to cry, for he could not change like his friends. He would be left alone, with only the memories of them and the sorrow of their loss.
What am I?
Harry woke with a start, his heart racing in his chest like a caged bird. For a moment he wasn't quite sure where he was and, slowly, he realized that he was back in Gryffindor Tower, in his own bed. Sunlight was just beginning to creep into the dormitory and he could hear the sounds of soft snoring coming from nearby.
"Just a nightmare," he whispered and, with a heavy sigh, closed his eyes. Still, there had been something familiar about the dream. It almost felt like he'd had that conversation before, but it couldn't be possible. He had never talked to Night's cousin – well, Night had, but that was different... wasn't it?
Frowning, Harry sat up and reached for his glasses. Night had been speaking in French with his cousin and, while Harry remembered what they had said, he did not understand any of it. Yet, in his dream he was counting porcupine quills – just like he was supposed to be doing in that class. Could it be that his dream and Night's conversation with his cousin were the one and the same?
He shivered, drawing himself into a ball as he recalled the image of his friends crumbling into dust. It didn't make any sense to him. He should have grown older too, gotten wrinkles and grey hairs like everyone else, but he did not. Instead, he remained as he was now, while they grew old. What a horrible nightmare, he told himself in a vain attempt to chase away the lingering fear from the dream. It wasn't working too well.
Harry cursed and got out of bed. There had to be something that would get his mind off that nightmare. His eyes went to his broom, lighting up happily. Maybe an early morning flight would do the trick.
The redheaded boy winced, having only rolled out of bed ten minutes beforehand and, being as he was not quite awake yet, was not quite ready to deal with panicked females... even if one of them was his little sister and the other had been his friend for the past four years. To top it off, he'd just woken up from the most unbelievably strange dream and he felt like he'd been put through the proverbial wringer.
"He's not at breakfast! I can't find him anywhere and, when I asked Neville, he said he wasn't there when he woke up! We've got to find him!" Hermione blurted out in one big rush.
Ron shook his head in attempt to clear away his sleepiness and somehow managed to ask, "What? 'Mione, slow down... I can't understand a word you're saying."
Hermione started to open her mouth to speak, but Ginny cut her off, "It's Harry. We had some questions for him about last night, but Hermione couldn't find him."
"I checked the library and the kitchens," the panicked girl genius whimpered. "He wasn't in the Great Hall and Neville said he wasn't in the dormitory..."
The boy rubbed his forehead and held up his hand. "Stop, 'Mione. Calm down for a moment, okay? I need to think."
Ginny gave him a look that plainly read that she had been trying to tell the older girl much the same thing for some time now and hadn't been getting very far. Still, she looked a bit more relaxed now that Hermione had quieted down.
Ron's brain finally kicked over drowsily and made the stunning conclusion that Saturday mornings were for sleeping in and not thinking about the locations of people who should still be sleeping in. But, in light of the expectant glimmer of hope in his best friend's eyes – and his little sister's pointed glare that promised Bat-Bogey Hexes if he didn't come up with something fast – Ron decided that it was best to ignore his sleep-addled brain's protests and think really hard about where Harry could be.
"Have you tried the Quidditch pitch?" he asked, finally. In his mind, it was the only real logical place to look. Honestly, did Hermione really think Harry would be in the library at this hour?
...This hour being somewhere around ten in the morning.
Hermione instantly brightened. "Of course! Why didn't I think of it before? To the Quidditch pitch!" And before either of the siblings could protest, the bookworm had grabbed their arms and was lugging them off towards the Entrance Hall with strength neither of them realized she possessed.
"Can I at least get some breakfast first?" Ron whined as his stomach protested its lack of food rather angrily.
The bushy-haired girl didn't stop, instead she hastily babbled, "You can eat later! This is much more important!"
"What's more important than breakfast?" the redheaded boy demanded, quite aghast. He was now quite thoroughly awake and starting to get very annoyed. He was hungry, damn it!
Hermione shot a glare at him over her shoulder. "Don't you want to find out what that madwoman Galaxia was going on about?"
"Well, of course!" Ron sputtered the first thing that came to mind. "But not on an empty stomach!"
Truth be it told, Ron had thought the previous night's events were some sort of weird nightmare – after all, evil first years in miniskirts tossing around thunderbolts and fireballs without the use of wands was rather surreal. And, convinced that it was a nightmare, he'd almost forgotten about it until 'Mione brought up the crazy lady in the weird gold armour. His mind also made the slightly chilling realization that since she also remembered what happened, it couldn't have been a dream: it was real.
Suddenly, Ron didn't feel hungry anymore.
"Ron, are you okay? You just went white," Ginny piped up. She gave him a concerned look.
"I – I'm fine," he said as they approached the doors of the Entrance Hall. "Let's just find Harry and get this over with."
The walk to the Quidditch pitch was a quiet one, each of them absorbed in their own thoughts. Well, Ron reasoned, at least he was thinking. He had no idea what was going through either girl's brain, even though he knew them both very well. 'Mione probably had a definite list of questions in mind, if her determination to find Harry was any indication. As for Ginny, he had no idea what she was going to ask.
He sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets, and tried to sort out the jumbled remnants of the previous night's events. They had gone to the roof, looking for Harry, but he wasn't there. That silver wolf – or dog, as 'Mione kept insisting on calling it – was there and had led them to believe Harry had gone around the nearby tower. Ron snorted; the animal probably didn't have any clue what they were asking it. It was that or Harry had somehow managed to find a hidden passage back into the castle that no one knew about. Then again, this was Hogwarts and, sometimes, certain passageways only appeared under certain conditions.
Ron frowned, focusing as hard as he could on remembering the next events. They had gone around the tower with the wolf and had immediately seen two of the first years – one from their own house – standing there, arguing. Not especially wanting to be discovered but possessing healthy curiosities, they ducked behind a statue and listened in on the argument. There was something very odd about their argument, but Ron immediately recognized the name Galaxia when the green-haired girl said it; Harry had warned them about her and those who served her. He remembered that Ginny mentioned Harry warning her to stay away from the grey-haired girl.
A chill settled over his heart as he recalled what that grey-haired girl shouted during the argument. "Damn it, you stupid toad! Listen to me! I was all set to take the Weasley girl's soul and he interfered!"
That – that thing was going to steal his sister's soul! Rage seethed through his mind at the thought. He had nearly failed his sister once and he'd be damned if he was going to let anything happen to her again! When he got his hands on that grey-haired brat... well... she wouldn't be taking anyone else's soul ever again, that would be certain!
Still, that Galaxia woman they called on was someone to fear. When Harry had first talked about her, she didn't seem all that scary. It was almost like the legend of the Chamber of Secrets. At first, you couldn't help but treat it as just another story, something unlikely and made up to scare you. But when you saw it for real, in the flesh, it suddenly wasn't so silly anymore. It was downright frightening.
Ron shivered, unconsciously rubbing his arms. He'd felt the power rolling off that woman like a tidal wave from the moment she appeared and how it threatened to crush them all. She felt wrong – there was really no other way to describe it. And the way she and those two girls talked was all wrong, too! They talked like they weren't human, like they were superior in some way, and they kept talking about something called the 'Sailor Crystal.'
Frankly, it didn't make a whole lot of sense to him.
Galaxia and her servants also brought up someone named Night a lot. From the way they talked about him, this guy sounded really powerful. They referred to him as a kámi and, while Ron had no idea what that could mean, he was starting to like this guy already. Apparently, this Night person had protected Ginny's soul from the grey-haired brat. He'd have to find this guy at some point and thank him.
It was at this point that his memory started to get really jumbled up, as things just kind of went crazy. The green-haired girl was saying something about killing Malfoy and, the next thing Ron knew, the girl was trying to kill them! It was a good thing he was able to grab 'Mione and Ginny before that light hit the statue and shove them to the ground, as it pretty much blew the statue to bits. That wolf seemed to have a good idea about what to do and bolted for cover. The grey-haired girl then started throwing fireballs all over the place and he remembered running, trying as hard as he could not to get hit.
At one point, Ron knew they were hiding behind a low wall with the wolf, yet he distinctly recalled seeing his sister running after the animal and firing a hex into the unprepared green-haired girl's face. He also knew that the grey-haired girl had addressed the wolf and threatened to kill them if the wolf didn't stop trying to escape. Then, surprisingly, he remembered seeing an angel that looked like Harry and watching in awe as the angel's shield spell simply absorbed grey-haired girl's probably lethal thunder.
He looked at his sister now, as the three of them neared the Quidditch pitch. She seemed distracted and he wondered if she was thinking about the angel. Ron sighed and pinched his nose. The last thing he need was to have his sister pining over some creature from another plane of existence just because it saved her life and happened to look a bit like Harry. For Merlin's sake, the bloody thing didn't even speak! It just made some weird ear-splitting noise to call more angels! Though, he did have to concede that between the three angels, Galaxia and her servants had decided to clear off and leave them alone.
It was all just too weird for his brain to handle at the moment. "Harry, you've got some serious explaining to do," he muttered under his breath and glared at the tiny figure soaring high above the Quidditch pitch.
Hermione, meanwhile, had already started waving and trying to get their friend's attention.
"Ron?" Ginny said, looking up. "Do you think we should warn 'Mione about that rock?"
The bushy-haired girl tripped, ungracefully falling face-first to the ground.
"I think she knows, Ginny," he replied, sighing, and went to go help his friend to her feet like a proper gentleman.
In the air there were no dreams or visions, only the ever-changing wind. It lifted him up, in body and soul, and chased away his worries. He lazily leaned into a shallow dive, rolling slightly to bank around one of the towers, and wondered what it would be like to fly without the use of a broom, like his angel did. What did the wind feel like when it rushed over and under feathers anyway?
"It's... ticklish," a mischievous splash of colour and tone answered in his mind.
Harry blinked in bewilderment. That didn't sound like Night.
"Silly, silly other me," the colours danced with soft laughter. "I am your soul's reflection."
"Twin Enigma," he whispered, pulling the broom out of the roll.
Pride and happiness spread through him in whorls of bright, scintillating colour. "You remember me! I knew you would!"
"Why wouldn't I?" Harry asked. After all, he'd just met the angel the night before.
The colours went blue and mournful. "You don't really remember, do you?"
Confused, Harry tried to scour his mind for something that told him he'd met the angel before the previous night, but he was unable to find anything.
"Oh," the angel's voice held the tone of realization. The feeling of comprehension washed over his mind in silvery threads of light. "You're the new face... We've been waiting for you since long, long ago – both I and the one I reflect. Even before I hatched, I knew I was to reflect you. You're our white wings."
"What's so weird about white wings?" Harry asked curiously.
The colours and tones of the angel paused a moment, darkening slightly, and then brightened with soft chuckling. "Those with the same nature as the one I reflect typically have angels possessed of black wings. It is a reflection of their nature, as I am a reflection of your nature and that of the one I reflect."
"Are you always so confusing?" he sighed, pulling the broom up gently and ascending.
"Perhaps," the angel's smile flashed across his mind. "I am, after all, more a reflection of you right now. My other side is more reflection of the other you, he who I have reflected since long, long ago."
Harry considered this. "So, there's another side to you... one that reflects Night?"
"Yes!" Again, pride and happiness danced across his mind at the angel's delight with him.
"So... does that change what you look like?" he asked, wondering if Twin Enigma's wings turned black when he reflected Night.
There was another pause – no, it was almost nervous hesitation this time, he was certain of it. Finally, the angel answered, "Yes and no. It depends on the emotions of you and the one I reflect. Dark and hateful things change the reflection radically."
Harry started to ask what the angel looked like when he was in this other form, but before he could even voice the thought it was interrupted.
"NO. That I will not answer. You are not ready. You will not understand." The angel's voice pressed down firmly on his mind, flaming arcs of anger and stubborn gold coursing along the words. It cooled, then, and the angel's voice became gentle. "Sorry... I am tired. I must rest and your friends approach."
"S'okay," he mumbled, turning his head to scan the area around the Quidditch pitch.
A drowsy splash of colour and soft tones told him that the angel had heard him; it was almost as though the angel had bid him good night and drifted off to sleep – only lacking words.
Finally, Harry spotted his friends and couldn't help wincing as he watched Hermione trip over a rock, landing rather gracelessly on her face. Ouch, he mused, and guided his broom down towards the centre of the pitch. She really should have been watching where she was going. Touching down, he dismounted the broom and sat on the ground to wait for his friends.
Ginny was the first to appear, followed shortly by Ron and 'Mione. The brainy girl was looking thoroughly less-than-pleased about something – probably her random show of klutziness – but her eyes held a fiercely determined gleam. It was the same determined gleam that normally spelled nothing but trouble for them in years past and the same gleam that she wore when she had somehow backed both Ron and Harry into joining SPEW. That girl could seriously be frightening at times.
"Morning," Harry said, smiling at them.
"Hey, Harry," Ron replied. He looked to be troubled by something and slowly sat down, facing him.
Hermione, after quickly scanning the pitch for signs of other students, whipped out some parchment and writing supplies and sat down; Ginny sat next to her and swiftly plucked a strand of grass out of the older girl's hair. 'Mione hardly seemed to notice, absorbed with giving Harry a stare that positively screamed I'm not going anywhere until I've got some answers. "Where were you last night, Harry?" she asked, finally. "We were looking for you!"
"I had a run in with Malfoy," Harry answered. "Ferret-boy was hanging around in the Hospital Wing. He's lucky I didn't hex him into next week."
"Don't worry, Fred and George have been busy," Ron said, smiling conspiratorially. "We'll have lots of ways to pay that prat back in no time!"
Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes.
Hermione shot both boys a pointed glare and then turned back to Harry. "Listen, Harry... About what happened on the roof last night-"
A sinking feeling of dread shot through Harry's heart as he stared at his friends and memories from the previous night started to creep back into his mind. Night had been worried before they left, worried enough to summon their angel. "What- what happened?"
"Galaxia came," Ginny replied softly. "We were looking for you and we overheard her speaking with her servants. They attacked us."
The image of his friends crumbling into dust flashed across his mind and Harry clenched his hands into fists. He should have been there.
"They weren't interested in us for very long," Hermione stated, frowning. "Galaxia thought Argos was more important than us."
"The wolf," Night supplied, the familiar voice rising in the back of Harry's mind. "It means 'all-seeing'... Rather appropriate in my opinion."
"Where have YOU been?" Harry sent the thought snapping back at his other self, while giving his friends a confused look.
Hermione sighed and explained, "Galaxia said that Argos had a secret hidden in his soul. Whatever it is, she was willing to kill us to get it. But I don't understand how an animal can have a secret in its soul..."
"That's easy," Harry said. "A Fidelius charm would do it. Argos is someone's Secret Keeper."
Ron scratched his head, a bewildered expression on his face. "Well, I suppose that would work, but the way I've heard it, the Secret Keeper has to verbally agree to accept the charm onto their shoulders."
"Well, maybe Argos isn't always a wolf," Ginny suggested.
Hermione glared at her. "Somehow, I doubt he's an illegal animagus. I checked, personally."
"'Mione... even a legal animagus would have pretended to be a dog with the way you threatened him," Ron said, dryly. "You threatened to take him to Azkaban in a matchbox!"
The bushy-haired girl huffed, crossing her arms stubbornly, and shot a glare at Ron.
"Maybe if he barked... Would that count?" Ginny asked, trying to stem off an argument before it started.
Harry shrugged; he couldn't tell them that the Amazing Bouncing Malferret was now a wolf every time there was a full moon. That was something that was best to break to them gently – and not when his friends were paranoid about some soul-snatching lunatic from outer space.
Hermione sighed heavily and pinched her nose. "Moving on... While Galaxia was talking with her servants, they said some pretty unusual things. I was wondering if your visions had told you anything about them, Harry."
"What sort of things?" Harry asked.
Ginny bowed her head slightly and chewed on her lip.
'Mione gave her a concerned glance and turned back to him. "Have you ever heard of a kámi called Night, Harry?"
Said Night gave an indignant snort in the back of his mind, but Harry ignored him. "No, 'Mione, I can't say I have... Kámi, though, I think that's Japanese."
Hermione grabbed her quill and jotted down a quick note on her parchment.
"That's too bad," Ron sighed. "I wanted to thank him. Those soul-stealers said they couldn't get Ginny because of him. By the way, how do you get rid of Galaxia's servants?"
Night seemed surprised at this and murmured, "You're welcome. And I'll take care of them."
Harry shrugged. "Well, her servants are technically dead. Their real bodies have been destroyed. I think you have to destroy the thing that binds their fake bodies together, but I didn't see what that was."
In truth, all one had to do was destroy the bracelets Galaxia's servants wore and their false bodies would disintegrate, but to do that one would need a lot of power and he didn't want his friends to get hurt or killed by trying.
"You shouldn't try to fight her servants anyway, Ron," Harry continued, closing his eyes. "They're very powerful. It would be better to let someone like Night get rid of them. He sounds like he's more than powerful enough, if he can protect Ginny's soul from them."
Ginny looked up and said softly, "I think Galaxia and her servants were confusing you with this Night person, Harry."
Harry stared at her, eyes widening. "Huh? Me?"
Ron looked equally confused. "You think Harry is this Night guy?"
"No, that wasn't what I said at all, Ron!" Ginny protested and turned to Harry. She sighed heavily, rubbing her temples, and continued, "Yesterday, after I left you in the Hospital Wing, the di Peltro girl talked to me. She was asking all sorts of weird questions about you, Harry. I honestly thought she was going to attack me and, next thing I know, she was running away like the Grim was on her heels."
For a moment, both Harry and Night had the same voice, the same question: "What did she say?"
"She thought you'd cast some sort of protection spell on me," Ginny said, her face rapidly growing red. "Something called Kiss of Night's Guardian, but she said you'd modified it somehow and then she said you'd have to be a kámi – specifically this Night person. I – well... it was a little weird..."
Night was silent a moment and, finally, seemed to sigh, "Don't fret, Harry. It's basically an invisible mark that tells anyone after her soul that if they touch her, they'll find out that there are worse things than death."
Harry knew there was more to it that his other was holding back – Ginny's blush told him as much. "I don't remember what happened," he admitted, looking at the red-headed girl. Her forehead, he noted, and lowered his eyes.
"You were very sick," Ginny said, seeming a bit relieved.
There was an awkward silence for a few minutes. Then, Hermione cleared her throat and, scratching a few notes to herself, piped up. "Well, I suppose now that that's all cleared up, I'm going to go to the library. I'm sure we can find a Japanese-to-English Dictionary in there somewhere."
"A pity my cousin checked them all out fifteen minutes ago," Night commented mischievously. "She'd have better luck asking the onmyoji."
'Mione hastily cast a drying charm on her parchment and picked up her things. "Ron, are you coming with me?" she asked, giving him a curious look.
"Can we stop at the kitchens first?" Ron replied as his stomach gave off an embarrassingly loud rumble.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione nodded in assent and started walking back to the castle with Ron. Harry silently wished them luck and hoped that Hermione wouldn't preach about SPEW too much when they got to the kitchens.
"Harry," Ginny said, looking at him, "I don't know if you really did cast that spell, but... I'm grateful anyways."
Raising his eyes to the sky, Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He didn't know what to say to that. After all, he couldn't tell her that it wasn't him who cast the spell.
"When Galaxia attacked us, we were saved by an angel, Harry," Ginny said, a smile growing on her lips. "Someone sent us a guardian angel to keep us safe. I think it was your angel."
"Shit," Night hissed in the back of his mind, echoing his own thoughts. "How did she know?"
He managed to force himself to speak. "...My angel?"
"I don't know," she said, closing her eyes. "It's hard to explain. I knew you'd come to save us – somehow, you'd find a way to be there and save us. I believed in you and... That's when the angel appeared."
Harry stared at her, surprised.
"The angel reminded me of you, I guess," Ginny shrugged and twirled a strand of her hair around a finger. "When he spoke to me, it was almost like I was speaking to you... except he speaks in colours and music in your head. It was weird, but neat at the same time, you know?"
He nodded, understanding the feeling.
"They say everyone has a guardian angel that watches over them during their lives," she said, looking up at the sky. "Maybe your angel happens to be just as protective of us as you are."
"Maybe," Harry said.
Ginny shook her head as though to clear it and smiled at him. "Sorry, Harry. I'm just being silly. We should probably go rescue Ron and Hermione from themselves."
"I know," he sighed, picking up his broom. "The last thing I need is to have them fighting like they did last year over something equally as stupid."
She gave him a look. "I'll bet you three chocolate frogs that they're arguing about the name of SPEW."
"My bet would be on studying for the OWLs versus pranks," Harry replied as they started walking.
Ginny clasped his hand. "You're on, Potter."
They shook hands on the bet and fell into silence.
"Harry?"
"Yes?"
"What if we're both right?"
"Good question. I suppose we'll just have to think of something."
Night smiled, content, and sunk back into sleep within his other.
She believes in us.
She believes in me.
Thanks to my reviewers, all of you!
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