September 19th - Hogwarts
The marauders and the Gryffindor girls once again found themselves in Dumbledore's office. Once again, they got their hopes up, thinking it had something to do with Nephera and once again they were left in tears and heartbroken.
Ellie and Tony were dead.
They had been killed, last night.
No one knew what to say, no one knew what to do.
They were only seventeen, they were far too young to be dealing with so much grief.
But alas, war rarely discriminated.
Ellie, the cheerful Hufflepuff who would always calm them down and bring their spirits up, was dead.
Tony, the smart and witty Ravenclaw who was always up for a good debate, was dead.
Ellie, the girl who always seemed to carry snacks with her wherever she was, was dead.
Tony, the boy who was next to their hospital beds after a bad full moon with coffee and hot chocolate, was dead.
Dumbledore was looking at them through his half-moon spectacles, awaiting their reactions. The last bit of hope the teens had was slowly simmering away. Voldemort had kicked them while they were down, and the Gryffindors hated to admit it, but he had won.
"What do you mean-" croaked Remus, "What do you mean they're- they're..."
"Dead, Mr. Lupin. I'm deeply sorry, I truly am," said the Headmaster
McGonagall was at the corner of the room, looking at everyone apprehensively, trying to keep the tears from falling. She would never admit it out loud, even though everyone knew, but the four boys had always been her favorites, and Nephera had joined that place in her heart as well last year.
And now the four of them were sitting there, having lost two more friends, and the fifth was probably dead.
"How?" asked James, leaning into Lily slightly as he tried to come to terms with it
"They attacked at her aunt's house, we're assuming that Mrs. Adams's parents weren't the targets at all, it was Ellie and Tony that they wanted."
Alice looked around, "Headmaster, if it isn't too much to ask, could you, uhm,"
"Of course, Mrs. Fortesque, you may have your privacy," he nodded and then gestured to the older witch in the room and the two of them left the teenagers alone
No one spoke for a while. Remus was the worst off, he was shaking in his seat, silent tears making their way down his cheeks as he tried to appear strong and unphased.
But in reality, the werewolf couldn't do it anymore. His boyfriend had died, one of his best friends was missing, and the fucking full moon was in two days.
"They're dead," whispered Peter, "They're dead,"
"Yes, thank you for that, wormtail, we hadn't realized," snarked Sirius, lighting up a cigarette
Had it been anyone else, that level of sarcasm would be deeply offensive and disrespectful, but they knew Sirius. They knew that the sarcasm and the ironies were nothing more but a way for him to cover up his hurt.
James placed a hand on his brother's shoulder affectionately.
"No, Merlin how can't you see it!" exclaimed Peter, "We're getting picked off, one by one. It started with Nephera-"
"Don't you dare finish that fucking sentence Pettigrew," snapped Sirius, standing up
"You need to accept it, all of you!" screamed the mousy boy, "Nephera's dead, Ellie is dead, Tony is dead. There's no use fighting this war!"
Emotions were running high, and that was never a good thing, "Peter, watch it," warned James, feeling his own anger rise
None of them wanted to admit it, even though at that point, they all knew deep inside that it was the truth. They didn't want to say it out loud, because saying it out loud made it real, and they had just lost two friends in one day, they weren't about to lose
"You're just too scared to fucking admit it! We lost, Nephera lost! I know you're pissed because you didn't get to bone her, Sirius-" he was cut off by a punch in the face
However, to everyone's surprise, it wasn't Sirius that delivered the punch, but Remus. The werewolf now knew first hand what it felt like to lose someone you love, and he'd be damned if he let Peter talk to Sirius that way, as though Nephera was just another body for him.
"Okay," murmured Marlene, and got up to stand in front of the werewolf, "Remus, sit down, please. This isn't helping anyone,"
"No, no, let him finish!" yelled Sirius, "Come on, is that all? I'm just pissed because I didn't get to sleep with her? Is that what it is?"
Lily and Marlene had taken over, trying to keep Remus down while Alice was talking to Peter, trying to calm him down.
"For the love of Godric, is that all you're focusing on? We're in a war, Black! Sure, your girlfriend is dead, how fucking sad, we all lost someone, but what I'm trying to do is look at the bigger picture!"
The curly-haired boy spoke up, "So you're scared? That's what this is? You don't think we should fight?"
"I don't think there's any point in fighting!" yelled Peter, shrugging off Alice, "If someone like Nephera is dead-"
"Nephera isn't dead!" yelled Sirius
Marlene had had enough, and decided to intervene the only way she knew how, "Everyone shut the fuck up!" she yelled, her voice echoing through the room, effectively stopping the fight, "Everyone's hurt right now, alright? Two of our friends are dead, and it's a tough fucking pill to swallow, but we can't start fighting each other!"
"Come on, let's go sleep for a while, it'll calm everyone down," suggested Lily in a soft voice
The raven-haired boy scoffed, "You do that, I'm getting out of here. I'll be back for the full moon,"
The walk to Hogsmead from the one-eyed witch passage was short, although it may have been the fact that the boy was zoning out for most of it.
Nephera wasn't dead, she couldn't be. She had to be alive, he needed her to be alive.
Once he reached the familiar village, he took out his wand, apparating out of there. When his feet touched the ground again, he was greeted by the familiar sight of a turquoise shop in Kockturn Alley.
If Moody and Dumbledore couldn't find Nephera, then maybe Ailani and her less-than-conventional methods could.
Nephera woke up that morning with the persistent feeling that something was wrong. It was like the world had been thrown off of balance, as if something terrible had happened yet she couldn't figure out what.
She wondered if the others had figured out the Polyjuice Potion yet. They probably had, or, at least Tony had, as much as she loved the Gryffindors and Ellie, they could be quite oblivious to what was right in front of them.
But then again, if they had, in fact, figured it out, then why wasn't she dead? Logic commanded that when he didn't need her for the potion anymore, he'd kill her.
So why hadn't he done so?
Unless, of course, the others had yet to figure out the ploy. She hoped that wasn't the case, she desperately hoped that they knew her better than to be fooled by some impostor.
Like clockwork, Fernir walked into the room and dragged her up, all the way to the meeting room. She mentally prepared herself for seeing yet another person wail in pain and die in front of her.
However, she was surprised to see that the room was empty, save for Voldemort and a chessboard. Greyback pushed her inside and closed the door behind her.
The Slytherin straightened herself up, despite her back essentially screaming in pain due to the open wounds, and walked up to the table, sitting opposite from the man.
The chessboard was a new element in the room, she'd never seen it in her twenty days of staying there. It was clearly old, however, made of onyx, embedded with silver, and include intricately carved figures.
She noticed she was white in this case, meaning she had to make the first move, so she decided to do just that, "You're here to make me an offer," she denoted, pushing one of the pawns forward, "Talk,"
Voldemort was shocked, once again, by the way the girl's mind worked. It was almost superhuman, the way she came to conclusions, and he desperately wanted to figure out how "How did you figure that out?" he asked, pushing one of his pawns forward as well
"The chessboard, it implies negotiation. You make one move, I make a countermove, and so on. Not to mention, if you wanted to kill me, you wouldn't do it alone, you'd make a spectacle out of it, use me to make an example, send a message" she replied, once again moving one of her pawns, "So go,"
"Your friends figured out the plan," he answered earnestly, "About five days ago, actually,"
He moved another piece, taking one of her pawns.
"So why are you telling me now?" she asked
She moved her knight.
"Because I want something else from you, before your inevitable death,"
He moved his bishop.
"You're smart enough to know that I won't do anything to help you, so you clearly have an ultimatum,"
She moved her rook, taking his bishop.
"Correct, once again, Mrs. Winchester. I am terribly sorry to tell you that Mr. Spectre and Mrs. Adams are dead,"
He moved his rook and took another one of her pawns.
Ellie and Tony are dead.
Gone.
Off this earth.
Dead.
The memories she shared with them flashed in front of her eyes at the speed of light, and she wished she had Tony's locket to be able to see them.
First Train Ride
An eleven-year-old Nephera Winchester was sitting alone in one of the train compartments. She didn't want to sit with the other pureblood children, they were far too crass and loud in her opinion. In her hands, she held a book she had smuggled out of the manor, something about Voodoo magic, and she was reading through it, finding it particularly interesting although slightly macabre.
"Hello, can I sit here?" asked a blonde girl, walking into the compartment and taking a seat, "I'm Ellie, by the way,"
"It seems to me like you already have, so why ask?" pointed out Nephera, not looking up from her book
"Oh," Ellie laughed awkwardly "Well I don't know, suppose I just wanted to be kind,"
"Kindness is overrated, and the mark of a weak person, that's what father says. Powerful people do not need kindness, because they know that their response alone demands attention and respect,"
"What are you reading? Is it about magic? Oh, I can't wait to learn about it!"
The blonde's attitude annoyed the brunette to no end. She was ridiculously talkative, and one of those people that seemed like they only fed on rainbows and unicorns.
Not to mention the fact that she was a muggleborn, obviously, given her excitement for magic, and her father would castrate her if he found out.
Yet, something made her not want to kick the girl out.
"It's a book on Voodoo, not that you would understand any of it. I'm afraid it's far past your intellectual capabilities,"
The girl was surprisingly not offended by that, "You talk funny, like my teachers in school,"
"And you talk too much," countered Nephera
"I know, I'm just so excited, aren't you?"
Second Year
Nephera and Ellie were at the library, the former helping the latter in Potions. Despite her best efforts, Nephera had found herself craving the Hufflepuff's presence, even though it could get slightly annoying at times.
Leaving Ellie to worry about the Potions essay, she got up from the table and walked towards the shelves. She was searching for a book in Transifuration, namely, how to become an animangus. The Slytherin, even at such a young age, knew that her parents weren't good people, and after the catastrophic Christmas break, she knew she had to figure out a way to protect herself.
She couldn't use magic, she wasn't seventeen yet, so learning how to transform into another animal at will was the only way.
"Watch where you're going!" she shouted when a boy collided with her
"I'm sorry, I was just- Oh, you're the one those fourth years were talking about. The scary one,"
"Yes, yes, that's me," huffed Nephera, "Move aside, guy from the bird house,"
"Why? What's got you in a hurry?"
"Nothing that should concern you," she stated, "Now, move away or I'll show you exactly why those fourth-years were scared of me!"
"No, I want to know what you're working on,"
"And I want to be surrounded by people who can match my intellect, clearly, we're both disappointed. And keep your voice down, unless you want Pince to come around the corner yelling."
"I can get rid of Pince if I want to!" said the boy stubbornly
"Please, no one can get rid of the old bat!"
"Well, I can. You just ask her a question about a book, and she goes on for ages,"
The Slytherin turned to look at the Ravenclaw next to her, surprised by his answer, and even more surprised by the fact that she hadn't thought of it, "Winchester," she stated
"Tony,"
She expected it to hurt, she figured it would in a few hours. For now, though, she felt nothing at all. Not the pain in her back, not the ache in her bones every time she moved, nothing.
She felt numb.
And so, she did the only thing she could, she continued playing the game.
"Most people would think it a bad idea to tell me they'd just killed my friends in front of me. I've been known to be quite temperamental,"
She moved another one of her pawns, taking his rook.
Voldemort expected many reactions, but that right there, he hadn't expected. He'd imagined her crying, yelling at him, hell, even trying to hit him over the head with the chessboard, but not this. Not this deadly calm in front of him, this girl covered in her own blood, who had just had everything taken from her, looking as if she was in control.
And perhaps that was his mistake, one that he made the second he let her interact with him. He had forgotten that Nephera was always in the driver's seat, even if he'd locked her in a room for almost a month.
"You don't have any magic, forgive me if I'm not scared of you," he answered
He moved his queen forward.
"A fool's opinion. Thinking that magic is one's greatest weapon. So, what's the ultimatum, Riddle. Or did you just bring me out here to see if you can beat me at chess?"
She moved her other knight forward.
"I'm giving you a choice, Mrs. Winchester. If you wish, you can leave now, and I promise none of my men will follow you,"
He moved one of his pawns, taking one of hers.
"Something tells me it's not so simple,"
She moved her bishop, taking his queen.
"It isn't. If you do decide to leave now, I'm afraid I'll be forced to kill all your remaining friends and their families."
He moved his bishop, taking another one of her pawns.
"And my other option?"
She moved her queen forward.
"I'm assuming you're familiar with inferni... I need a spell that makes them twice as fast and twice as strong. In exchange, I'll spare your friend's families, and I'll give them immunity until they graduate from Hogwarts,"
The negotiations continued, and in a way, represented a game of chess themselves. He offered something, she countered it, he offered something else. It was a rare phenomenon, like two cosmic powers collided with each other and were both adamant on getting the other one to give in first.
As crazy as it sounded, they both fed into that energy. It was rare for Tom to find anyone who could challenge him intellectually, and Nephera was definitely doing that. He still wished he could get her to join his side, although now he knew that was impossible.
As for the Slytherin, it was always satisfying to prove that she had once again, manipulated someone without them knowing. She just had to wait for the right moment to reveal everything, about how she got him to kill his own Death Eater, Dolohov, about how she got him to reveal the location of Grindelwald's library. Yes, the look on his face would certainly be satisfying.
"You'll give my friend's families immunity until the end of the war, no one if to touch them or harm them, and you'll make the same deal for my friends,"
She moved her bishop forward, taking one of his pawns.
"I'll give you what you ask concerning your friend's families, but I can't promise that your friends will be unharmed,"
He moved his pawn forward.
"Yes, you can, and you will."
She moved her pawn forward as well.
"I don't take orders from teenage girls."
He moved his rook forward, threatening her queen.
"I'm much more dangerous than a teenage girl, and you know it. Besides, the fact that you're offering me this right now tells me that I'm the only one who can create the spell, or else you would've tasked it on someone else. So, how much do you need the inferni?"
Her queen took his rook.
"One year immunity for your friends after they graduate Hogwarts. Final offer."
He moved his knight towards her queen.
"And you're assuming I'm just going to take your word for it, Riddle?"
She moved her bishop forward.
"What are you suggesting?"
He moved his rook back.
"An unbreakable vow, of course."
Once again, she moved her queen forward.
"You wish to sign your own death warrant?"
He moved his pawn forward.
"I wish to protect my friends."
She moved her pawn forward as well.
Riddle extended an arm, and she did the same, "I vow to provide immunity for Sirius Black, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin for one year after their Hogwarts graduation, and I vow that their families will remain safe from the war,"
She didn't need to ask how he knew who she wanted to protect, it was obvious that Lestrange had given him enough information, "And I vow to create a spell that makes the inferni twice as strong and twice as fast."
Silver strings wrapped around their connected arms, sealing the vow. They were both staring at each other in the eye, not wanting to be the first one to avert their gaze.
Riddle had never been more pleased in his life. He'd gotten her, finally, he had managed to break her. Nephera Winchester would die as soon as she completed the spell, and he'd be happy to watch as it happened.
Because, no matter how much she reminded him of his youngest self, there was one key difference, one key weakness the girl had that he never had: friends.
And all it took to beat her was him exploiting that weakness.
The girl picked up on that, but she let him have his moment, it was always much more fun when they didn't see it coming.
"Your death will certainly be a show, Mrs. Winchester," he said, satisfied with the way the events worked out
Nephera didn't say anything, but simply looked back at the chessboard, moving her queen forward, "Checkmate. Queen takes King," she said, and turned back to go back to her room
Checkmate indeed, she thought as she smirked when her back was turned.
Because Tom Riddle was right about one thing that day: there would certainly be a show, but her dying? No, that wasn't in Nephera's cards at the moment.
A lot of people claimed that there were only five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.
Nephera disagreed with that, she always thought there was one more: revenge.
A/N
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