The Art of Hypocrisy
-Sleeping and within the soul-
Lazareth listened, "So- she was happy go lucky? Sounds as if she's shedding…this can be a problem on the plans if she's doing it soon…"
"She was leading boggarts on a leash." Snape said and Lazareth shrugged, "she told me to 'leave her be' and 'I'm taking them on a walkies'." Lazareth pondered upon this, "What is she doing?"
"So soon- where does she get the bodies for such a taxing procedure?" Lazareth wondered aloud, pausing, "She's arrived…" He stood and his mother stood at the stop of the stairs. She stood there in a long, black, elegant, ballroom dress. "M-Mama!" Lazareth exclaimed, blushing, "Such beauty…" She said nothing, as Lazareth growled seductively as she walked past him, bunched of her skirt in her fists, her high-heeled boots clacking on the floor. She stopped in front of Lazareth,
"Where is it, child! Where is my scale?" she snarled angrily, and Lazareth frowned,
"Scale? What scale?" Lazareth said coyly, and she hoisted him up, and slammed him down on the table violently, "MMN!"
"You vile thing! Use your own scales, you snake!" She growled, and he frowned, as she released him, "Such treacherous, low tactics- you are no son of mine." Lazareth got up, sitting on the table,
"You use forbidden arts of our kind-"
"Don't be ignorant, Lazareth, such arts I created with my own hands." She said bluntly, "Now- my scale- "
"You wore such a nice dress to collect one scale?" Lazareth purred, and she stomped her foot, snarling something at him in their language, before shoving him aside,
"You useless boy! I'll find it myself." She declared and walked off, Lazareth and Snape running after her, "Here- I can feel it-" she put her hand on a door, and the two flung themselves between the door and her, as she quickly withdrew a black-gloved hand. Lazareth growled and offered out a ring-pierced tongue, as he spoke to her in another language, luring her away from the door, and back to the original room, Severus slipping into the room behind the door, before exiting, "You have a silver tongue, my child, but I can feel it- the darkness that vibrated from its core- it's a part of me." She threw Snape aside like she swatted a fly away, as she did her own child, and Spartan kicked the door open. "I'm tired of these fucking games!" She snarled, and walked into the room, looking to her left, seeing the scale first- then Voldemort. She ignored him, and reached over, touching the scale, and it vanished into her skin. She smiled, her pupils changing, Once more- she was full.
"Hello." Voldemort greeted, before hitting her with a spell. She went rigid, Lazareth in the doorway, as her eyes rolled back into her head, and she fell sideways, turning as she fell, and landing on her back on the floor, as the light, faded from her eyes and they glazed over. Nagini rose up, and Lazareth frowned.
"Hm…easier than I thought- only because she was off guard. Don't touch her, she's fine." Lazareth assured, picking her up, "Now, Sir, is the hard part- for me, anyways. Where shall I put her?" Voldemort stepped aside and Lazareth placed her gently on the bed, closing her eye lids, "Forgive me- her eyes when she sleeps…" Lazareth shuddered, before turning to Voldemort, "Ok, just lay down which ever way you desire," Voldemort laid down next to her, and the door shut in Snape's face. Lazareth's hands turned into long, sharp, dark blue claws, "Relax, Sir, the worst part of this evening is over." He put two fingers to Voldemort's wrist, his left first, then the right, growling something- talking in the foreign tongue- before touching his ankles, they his neck, shoulders, and forehead, touching his mother's forehead. Instantly, Voldemort could make out what he was saying- "Through the darkness of Anubis, God of the Death, the turning of the moon guides us from one body to another, one dimension to another. We offer the soul of Voldemort, to the Duchess of the Voldorians, in exchange for entry to her soul, we ask he be guided and guarded well from the outside. The Maker help him if he's touch, and may she awaken immediately if harm comes to either party, the rage of ten thousand white sons burn in her soul-" He paused as everything went cold. Dementors peered into the room from the windows, and put their hands against the glass, as if waiting for something- but just waiting patiently. Lazareth finished the strange incantation, and Voldemort closed his eyes.
When he opened them, he laid on grass of green in a suit. He sat up, loosened the tie slightly, before standing. A dragon of huge proportions, sat on the grass, no far from him. It roared a yawn, before lazily falling over in the grass and it stared at him as he approached. It said nothing, but lay there silently, tilting its head to the right, and he looked over, seeing her bathing in a lake. Several other creatures stood at the edge of the lake when he walked over. Water dripped down her skin and her long hair covered out the top of her breasts, and between her legs. She glanced over, "What the hell are you doing here?" She asked bluntly, the creatures glaring at him, "No matter. Someone who pulls their weapon on a person's back is the lowest of low." The Creatures gave their own form of agreeing.
"What was your form 50 years ago?" Voldemort asked, and she looked at him,
"Why should I tell you? You put a spell on me." She hissed in distain, and he frowned. "Wander as you desire, but stay away from me." the water wrapped around her and made a gown of whites and baby blues for her, and she put her foot on the edge of the ground. Voldemort offered her a hand, but she removed her foot and went to another side of the empty indent in the ground and got out before walking off. Voldemort was immediate to give chase as she coolly looked over at him.
"What do you want in exchange?" He asked, and a flicker of sadness crossed her eyes before vanishing as quickly as it had come.
"Nothing you can give me." she responded, looking at the sky, the wind kicking up, "This world- inside of me- where I come when I sleep- is one of the few things I have left. There are many things I want- but nothing you could ever grant me in years, even with all your magical -prowess." She said icily, walking off,
"I can try." He offered, and she whipped around, making him come to an abrupt halt.
"You want your answer? FINE! I attended Hogwarts 50 years ago- I was there." She twirled around and her height had decreased, her hair had changed to a dark umber brown, and her eyes were a blue grey. "This- is what a looked like, 50 years ago, Tom riddle. Are you happy with your answer?" She changed back, "Now for the sake of the Maker, leave me alone!" She snarled, walking into a town and vanishing. The town looked like a piece of London but gloomy, and people with tan skin talked with one another, bundled up against the cold of the town- the dead of the winter- and they stopped, spotting him.
"Oh- he doesn't seem very well prepared for the winter…." "Poor thing!" One of them offered him a scarf, "Here, you'll freeze to death, Guy." "I wonder why he's here." "No one comes for anything." "You should leave quickly- nothing good comes from this place." "I hope he'll be alright…he seems like a nice guy." They jabbered, the bell tolling and they rushed off frantically with panic, to sheltered homes, and Voldemort stood there. "I heard Lazareth sent him-" "Oh, what a naughty child!" "Lazareth doesn't know who he's dealing with." "His mother's patience only lasts so long…" Voldemort looked around, ignoring the whispers, and letting his eyes rest on a pub, that he entered promptly. He stumbled upon her, lying in a bed, asleep- until he entered.
"I had no idea-" He started, but she interrupted, "Who goes into a BAR the first thing when they come to a new place? Why not a store or something? So weird." She said, rolling over, and he countered, "You're the weird one. Your bedroom has a huge sign on the outside that says 'Pub'." She glanced at him over her shoulder, "It is a pub, not my bedroom- it just happens to have a bed." She corrected, her face in a pillow, and people stared at him- their eyes glowing a variety of colors. She raised her head and looked at him, "You know- if you had sought me out- I could have given you a brand new body just like your 1st one, and you wouldn't have the one you have now."
"Impossible." Voldemort said, "How could you do that?"
"Why do you Humans always ask 'how'? Can't you just accept it? If there is a price, then there is a price, don't ask questions. When you do, you seem so ungrateful." She said bluntly, and laid back down, the others continued to glare at him. She groaned, getting up, and walking past him, out of the pub, and the others there threw their drinks to the floor and lunged at him, as she vanished from the pub. She reached back in and grabbed the back of his suit, pulling him out and the door replaced where he stood, as he was set on the ground of the town once more. "I just remembered that the Pub isn't the best place to be." Lazareth stood in the middle, smirking,
"Good after noon, mother." Lazareth purred, and she sighed,
"Another round of twisting the knife in my back, my son?" She asked, and Lazareth hissed something, and she pointed to him angrily, "Don't you say that! Whose vagina did you come out of, mine, or your fathers?" Lazareth thought about it, "Yeah, I know, it's a hard one, but the answer is: DING, DING, DING, ME! Now shut up and get out." Lazareth bowed and vanished like mist.
"So…what was his father like?" Voldemort asked curiously,
"The father of Lazareth?" She repeated, and looked away sourly, "A topic I like to avoid when possible."
"I could always-" "'search my memories?' have them- I hold no love for most of them." She finished.
"I…Lazareth is the product of a sin." she said, "The father of Lazareth- is my cousin." She hugged herself, "Lazareth…was the product of a rape."
"They look kinda cute together, don't they?" Lazareth offered, standing next to Snape, in front of the bed, where Voldemort and his mother slept. They both tilted their heads to the right- then to the left, "I suppose." Snape answered. In their sleep, they had turned this way and that, the occasional murmur, but half way into the night, they were unconsciously holding hands. "I don't think I'd like them to be together though- unless for breeding. Breeding is fine." Snape looked at Lazareth, and he looked back, "Oh- uh- We're kind of like a dying race so we have to violently reproduce for a full moon every 10 or 15." Lazareth looked down shamefully, "I…I would be considered a 'disgrace' if I went back now." He sighed, and his pager blinked, "Hm. I must leave." Lazareth handed Severus a cell phone, "Um- if she awakes- press the 1 and the green button. I'm on speed dial, but I have to go far. I will come as quickly as possible." He said and left, pulling a cloak from the thin air, and wrapping it around himself.
3 lovers, he had. None of them were even so much as pregnant, even though he had taken every extra step to make it almost sure. No condom, hiding birth control pills, whatever. He had no children. NONE. He loved them, but he needed heirs. How many half brothers and sisters did he have? How many children has his mother birthed? Hopefully, tonight, something good would happen.
"Um- Cornelius…" His atlas name. "I-I'm pregnant." One of his lovers spoke.
"THANK THE MAKER!" He cheered, but she was disturbed,
"How could you say that!" She demanded, and he frowned, "Y-You're not going to leave me, are you?" No. well- technically, he would be taking his son and leaving her, returning to his home to raise the child. He kissed her. He couldn't just do that. A child needed a mother as well as a father. "Cornelius?" She asked, and he looked at her, "Are you- mad?"
"Of course not. Come, let's go to the super market- We'll buy many things for our child." Lazareth smiled lovingly, taking her hand. "When I- when I move back, would you like to come with me?" She blushed violently,
"Y-Yes…" He smiled at her answer. This woman- held his child inside of her small fragile body. A hybrid, but, nonetheless, his child. Half-blooded children usually raised with distrait and hatred for their deformalities, but not this one. "I'm- a few months along…about 3." She didn't look like it. He knelt down and kissed her stomach affectionately. This child would be his pride and joy, as he tried to be for his mother.
"This child is mine, yes?" He asked, and she nodded, "This is, indeed, good news. Would you…like to meet my mother sometime?" She blinked,
"Your…mum?" She questioned, and he nodded, "That would be nice." Lazareth immediately questioned his mother's personality towards his lover.
"I'm sorry." Voldemort said, and she looked forward icily, not at him, but into space.
"It's not your fault. Lazareth doesn't look like him." She looked down at her hands, "After- everything that happened, I went to kill him and my "kin" stood in my way that night. I made sure my son was safe, and- the next thing I knew, I was floating in the ocean. He eluded me that night, but I will slit his through and hold his body upside down so his blood spills and pools under my feet." She let out a deep breath, "It's not your fault."
"That's a rather vivid image."
"It's a dream, now, but soon, it will be reality and memory." She said with pure determination.
"Is he older than you?" "By a month or two." "Bigger?" "OH no, he's very small for our race. Small, tiny male." "Then how did he over power you?" She burst out laughing, and he blinked,
"So blunt!" She laughed, "I was at a disadvantage. Funny." They had some to a field, covered completely in snow, and she sat on a hill, hands clasped in her lap. "I have lived a thousand lifetimes, but when I see my sons- I feel as if I will never see them again, but- I'm happy. "She smiles softly, as Voldemort looks down at her, "because, even though I haven't completed what I wanted to, I know that I've given birth to 3 beautiful children, and I'm at ease knowing they're set on paths that wee made from those I killed, but paths to help them succeed nonetheless." Voldemort sat in the snow across from her, ignoring the blistering cold. "Do you not like me? Now that you know all of this and since I'm "back" He thought about it.
"No, I don't really hate you, but- why did you leave with just leaving nagini to me?"
"I thought- Nagini would be loyal to you, and replace all of those gifts you gave me. I have to go into isolation from time to time, and sleep. You have a wand- but the 'magic' my son and I use, is in the air. There is little of it now, so, I find a place with a fair amount, and I curl up for sleep."
"I see. Doesn't it bother you?" He asked frankly, and she looked down at her hands.
"I- I come, and make 'friends', and smile, and laugh. You humans are funny. I sleep, and when I wake up, everything has changed and they're all gone. I stand in the 'present', but when I blink, I'm in the 'past'. Everyone died when I exhales and once more, I am left alone. When it 1st happened, I cried so long I had forgotten how to tell time, but then I realized that this was how it was, and I was nothing but a spare piece, watching." She said softly, and looked at him. "You want immortality- if you had come to me, I would have given it to you happily, just to have a shorter life." He though about it. "If you wanted, I could even give you your old body." She said, "Ugh- I wish you'd get out of here. I want my soul back to myself."
"I don't know how you get out."
"Well, you got yourself in, didn't you? You can recite the incantation and get yourself out." She said, scoffing, "For a wizard master like you, you're a little on the stupid side sometimes."
"I'm not stupid. Your son got me in here." She blinked,
"Hm? Lazareth?" She laughed so much she started crying, "That boy barely remembers the incantation to change forms!" she laughed, but then got serious, "If we was able to do something like that, its all in our home language, so at one point, you'd be able to understand what he said."
"He was talking about Anubis giving guide and protection." Voldemort said, "Among a variety of other things."
"Impossible. Such a thing is passed down from the parents to the children. There is no way he could have learned such a thing from me." She said, looking up, "What a hassle. Such a handful, that one."
"Do you regret it?" Voldemort asked and she looked at him,
"Do I regret giving birth to Lazareth and his brothers?" Voldemort nodded, "No. They are all different, and are sometimes a handful- but they're pieces of me." She looked at him, "Any other questions?"
"What's your real hair color?" "Purple." "Eye color?" "Plain grey."
"So- how do we get out of here?" He asked, and she thought about it,
"Hm..Well, I have one idea."