Parselbrat 8 (HP)
Parselbrat - 8

"Feed me."

Harry woke to a grass snake's forked tongue in her ear.

"I'm hungry," it hissed.

She blinked, slowly, disjointedly. One eye was blind, that side of her face pressed into the dirt, her nose thick with the scent of churned soil. The world felt cavernous and far away, glimpsed through a curtain of dark hair that had come loose from her bandanna.

Harry lifted her head, just enough to shake the hair out of her eyes. Taking stock. Her legs and back were stiff, the consequence of sleeping on the ground. Her right hand was… outstretched, clutching at the air in front of her. She stared at it for a long moment before withdrawing it.

"Hungry!" the grass snake said again, echoed by a half-dozen other serpents this time.

" Fine. Give me a sec. "

She rose to a sitting position. The snakes draped over her fell away into a tangle, all hissing furiously as they tumbled into the others.

The sun had disappeared behind the towers entirely, and the courtyard was in full shade. She'd rolled into one of the cobble-less patches of earth during her nap, and had to brush the dirt off her clothes as she got to her feet.

Moving around got her thoughts going again, let her shake off the last vestiges of sleep. After one too many nightmares, the nap had been just what she needed. She ached from lying on the ground, but it was a good sort of tenderness, and her magic felt pleasant, almost relaxed after the earlier exertion of hatching the egg.

It was a wonder the thing hadn't exploded with the amount she'd pumped into it.

The newborn snake, still sleeping, got shifted into her shirt pocket. Harry picked up her robes, tucking the eggshell into a pocket before pulling them back on.

The crowd of snakes was watching her, scores of reptile eyes following her every move.

She checked her watch. "Geez. Okay- We slept through lunch. But it's almost time for dinner. You're all welcome to come."

They were after all, her guests. She'd pulled them away from their lives to join the birthing, and now she needed to reward their time.

Only… there was no way she was taking this lot into the Great Hall. One adder was bad enough already. Thirty snakes would cause a panic.

A few of the lazier serpents were already tugging at her pants or trying to climb her legs and catch a ride. Harry sighed, and bent down.

" All aboard."

XXX

She'd tried to play with Mrs. Figg's cats before. Once.

Dealing with forty-odd summoned snakes was a lot like that. Only, while she couldn't understand cats, the snakes all had very colorful vocabularies. Every one of them loathed the others, and were fiercely territorial of the few square inches of Harry they occupied.

The hatchling was in her pocket, and Blackscale had his spot around her neck, but the rest of her, shoulder to finger-tip, down her shirt, even a few around her waist like belts, was be-snaked.

They were heavy.

And squirmy.

She kept having to stop and catch her breath because the ones down her shirt were tickling her, and any snake touching her bare skin was trying to taste her sweat with equally ticklish tongues.

Her muffled, snorty giggles drowned out even the constant hissing that surrounded her.

"You said you- you- ha! Stop it! You smelled food down there?" she wheezed, speaking to a snake on the back of her wrist. It was a magical breed, with jewel-like, powder-blue scales, and brilliant red eyes, that Harry had uncreatively dubbed 'Sky.'

Sky scented the air. "That one," she said, jabbing her snout at the left hallway ahead.

They'd crossed most of the castle already, but they seemed to be getting close. The blue-snake's directions were getting more precise. Harry had mostly just played packmule and tried very hard to focus her intent on Hogwarts leading her to the kitchens.

She took the left hall. It sloped downward, and a stairwell at the far end led them two flights deeper. They'd been descending all the way so far. Were the kitchens in the dungeons or something? Was that sanitary?

They were just crossing the boundary where the castle architecture gave way to the rougher, older stone of the dungeons, when the shape in Harry's pocket stirred. It was minute, enough that she was half-sure it was just one of the snakes beneath her clothes shifting around until it happened again.

The hand that wasn't holding Sky rose to dip within.

The newborn serpent curled into a defensive knot in the center of her palm.

"Hullo," Harry said.

The baby flicked its tongue at her, but said nothing.

"She is too young to speak," Blackscale said. He nosed down to look more closely at it- her. "She will be hungry though."

Fine enough. They were headed to the kitchens anyway.

"How long until she speaks?" Harry asked.

The adder gave a lazy, catlike blink. "When she is ready."

"Oh."

"It depends on the snake,"
Sky interjected.

Both adults watched as a grass snake probed too close to the hatchling. She balled tighter, opening her mouth to reveal a set of tiny, needle teeth, and hissed warningly.

Harry nudged the offender back onto her arm. "Away." To the little snake, she added, "I'm Harry, and this is Blackscale. We're in a place called Hogwarts and..."

Just because she couldn't speak didn't mean she couldn't listen. And didn't children learn words by listening to adults anyway?

XXX

" And this is a hallway in the dungeons. Dungeons are like a stone burrow. And- we're almost there?"

"We're here,"
Sky corrected.

'Here,' in this case, meant a large painting of a fruit bowl. There was a palpable smell of food in the hallway; meat cooking over a fire, and a rich, oniony scent that she thought might be soup.

Harry stared at the picture. Looked for a knob or a door bell.

Nothing.

She knocked on the frame.

XXX

House. Elves.

Harry had known there were non-human species in the wizarding world. Goblins at the bank, and whatever Hagrid was, but she honestly hadn't given it much thought. She'd even known there were house elves at Hogwarts that cooked the meals.

But… these. They looked a bit like goblins. Though, if goblins were Dudley-equivalents, then house elves were the scrawny little Harriet Riddles that probably got beat up by goblins.

Small and kind of knobbly, with squeaky voices like something from a cartoon. Their magic was unlike any she'd seen thus far though. It was… restrained. They didn't radiate any at all. Instead, theirs was confined within their bodies, thick and warm like a second bloodstream beneath the skin.

They were also terrified of snakes. As evinced by the dozen squealing elves that recoiled the instant the portrait swung open.

Things degenerated for a long few minutes after that. Harry panicked over scaring the elves. The elves panicked over her snakes, and because they'd upset her. Both tried to explain that they were sorry, talking over the other to do so. Then the snakes started chiming in with their massively unhelpful suggestions.

Harry was halfway through deciding to just leave when one of the braver elves finally shouted an invitation to come in. Apparently, the house elves valued hospitality over fear, and Harry found herself escorted to a small table, one of the elves explaining that they were in fact, elves, on the way.

She found herself seated at a little round table on the side, out of the way of the kitchen bustle, and with a heaping bowl of onion soup. A moment later, an elf delivered a plate of chopped chicken.

"For Miss Riddle's snake friends!" they announced. The elf was wearing a little dress made from sewn-up potato sacks, and their voice was a bit higher than some of the others, so Harry thought they might be female.

"Thanks, uhm-" Harry paused. "Is it okay that we're here?"

She hadn't heard of anyone coming down to the kitchens, and they weren't exactly obvious, what with the concealed painting in a corner of the dungeons.

"Miss Riddle is very kind," the elf said. "We is not havings many students coming down here, and none with snake friends, but Lansy is happy to serve."

"Oh. Uhm. So… you're the cooks?"

"Oh no, Miss." Lansy shook her head, her large ears flapping about. "We is doing all the chores in the castle. Cooking, cleaning, lighting fires, sometimes it seems like Hogwarts is making new rooms just for us to scrub." The elf winked at that last, though Harry didn't understand why.

She filled the silence by nudging a few of the snakes down toward the plate of chicken. It took some squabbling, but eventually most of the snakes found a spot on Harry or the table that wasn't too objectionable. Even the hatchling got a very, very small piece of meat, with Blackscale hovering protectively nearby.

"So." Harry glanced around the kitchen. Two elves were turning an entire roast pig on a spit, while a third glazed it. Across from them, a whole line of elves were chopping and prepping salad ingredients, depositing them in large bowls, where other elves mixed them into the final product. The entire kitchen had an industrious air, a light, thrifty sort of energy.

They were all smiling.

"Uhm."

"Is Miss needing anything else?" Lansy asked.

One of the elves at the salad table snapped their fingers, and with a pop, a bowl of salad levitated across the room to settle on a shelf with dozens of others.

Wandless, nonverbal magic.

Harry opened her mouth.

Her eyes fell on Lansy. The elf was fidgeting, uncomfortable under her gaze. Or was it discomfort at Harry not saying anything?

A second glance around the kitchen. There was something off here, though she only realized what when an elf mopped up a spill with the edge of his… rag. That he was wearing. None of the elves had clothes. They wore towels and aprons and even sashes with the Hogwarts crest, but there were no actual garments. It was like they'd scrounged their outfits out of whatever cloth was at hand.

Lansy was wilting slightly, the tips of her ears drooping.

We is doing all the chores in the castle.

Suddenly, her mental comparison to herself felt a bit too accurate.

"Do- do you need any help with cooking?" Harry stammered.

The elf went very still, her eyes the only part of her moving. They went wide.

And then she blinked, seeming to regroup, and shook her head. "No, Miss, we is getting along very well, and it is not proper for a witch to be's helping us."

"You like doing all this?"

Lansy looked politely confused this time. Like Harry had just said the sky was blue.

"Of course, Miss. House elves is always happy when we is doing work." Lansy paused, checking over her shoulder at the other elves. "Miss, I is needing to get back. Is Miss wanting anything else?"

She had questions. So many questions.

And they all turned to ash in her mouth at the sight of a couple hundred elves scurrying about, a few literally whistling while they worked.

"No. Thanks, Lansy."

XXX

Harry didn't taste a drop of the onion soup. She ate. She was full. But it tasted like nothing.

And when she was done, forks down, and waving off the few elves offering her dessert, Lansy reappeared.

"Is Miss-"

"It was good," Harry said stiffly. Her voice was too high. Tight. "You- you lot did a good job."

Lansy beamed at her. "Miss is very kind. Is you wanting anything to take up with you?"

"No, thanks." Harry stood up, suddenly conscious of how the elves were like children beside even her small height. She reached out to begin gathering the snakes, when a thought hit her.

"Do you know how to return something summoned?" She gestured to the snakes, most gorged half-asleep on chicken. "Them, I mean."

Lansy, smiled, and then snapped her fingers.

XXX

She felt lighter without them. It was easier to climb back up through the castle. A burden had been lifted, replaced with another that had nothing to do with weight.

Lighter, yes, but also lesser. Ephemeral.

Like losing Blackscale all over again. Even if the adder was still wreathing her throat, keeping an eye on the baby in her breast pocket.

House elves.

They were… they were broken, weren't they? Broken enough to find happiness in servitude.

Unseen. Cleaning the castle, top to bottom. Secluded in a room, toiling away to feed everyone else.

She wanted to go back and talk to them. Question the elves until she knew the how and why of it, even though she knew they wouldn't answer her. Couldn't answer her.

Who had made them this way?

Was it Hogwarts? Wizards?

She had no answers.

She did not know how to feel.

XXX

The third floor corridor was marked off by a velvet rope, and the hallway itself ringed with a line of bright red paint. Dumbledore had made it very apparent that it was forbidden.

But that was for good reason.

It was actually really easy to wander up to. Two flights of revolving stairs in the main stairwell were enough to get from the Great Hall to Fluffy. The work of five minutes, tops.

But Harry was still lagging a bit from the summonings, and was a hair too slow to catch the second stair. One of the portraits jeered at her, and she hissed back in parseltongue.The painted monk blanched – somehow – and vanished into the depths of his canvas.

She was bouncing on her heels, waiting for the stairs to rotate back around, when Filch crossed one of the walkways over the passage. The custodian was muttering to himself, and to Harry's frustration, turned down the corridor leading to Fluffy.

Harry wilted where she stood.

" Now what?"

"Go outside?"
Blackscale suggested.

She shook her head.

It was a holiday, and the weather was brisk, but sunny. The grounds would be thronging with other students. Too many eyes, too many questions, when all she wanted was quiet.

When the stairs rotated around to her next, Harry took them.

XXX

Her feet carried her at random. Just as she had earlier in the day, Harry walked aimlessly, letting the castle cycle convoluted, winding hallways and rooms that hadn't seen a class in decades. The exploration should have been enough- the curiosities churned up in forgotten cupboards enough to keep her occupied.

But it wasn't filling the silence.

It pressed in on her. And with it, thoughts of cringing, servile house elves.

Harry hissed a swear under her breath and slammed shut the moldering textbook she'd been leafing through.

She didn't need quiet. She needed a distraction.

XXX

Up and up through the castle. Ghostlike, from destination to destination, searching for something to focus on.

The room she'd found with Ron and Neville- the layered room that had called to her, was absent. The library was being slammed shut by a fuming Madame Pince just as Harry arrived. The Weasley Twins had done something and earned themselves another lifetime ban.

Ravenclaw Tower got a wide berth. If she went there, there would be questions. And she wouldn't be able to stop her own from spilling out.

What were house elves? Why were they (slaves) servants?

She had a vague inkling to go up the Astronomy Tower and watch the forest, only to remember halfway there that it was kept locked during the day. The better to prevent older students canoodling up there.

The next set of doors she opened led onto a spiral stair. It was no different from any of the others she'd climbed so far, but for the smell. An acrid, sour odor, cut through with the scent of open air.

Muffled hooting floated down to her.

Blackscale squirmed uncomfortably as she ascended. "Smells like hunting-birds."

" Yes. You don't have to come, if you don't want to."

"And leave you alone with hunters?"
Blackscale snorted, then slid inside her robes, disappearing from view.

Harry emerged. Tiny bones crunched underfoot with every step. The owlery was chilly, airier than even Ravenclaw Tower, and filled with a constant rustle of feathers. The stink was stronger, almost overwhelming; rotting owl pellets mixing with stale bird spoor.

She'd never paid much attention to owls before, but they weren't like any of the other magical animals she'd encountered so far. Where others were more… undefined, owls were like cut gems. They had keenness and insight, honed sharp, stored not in the chest like wizards, but in the head.

Why, she wasn't sure. Were magic owls just naturally smarter? It didn't feel natural though. It was like they'd been refined into what they were. So-

A massive eagle-owl hooted, and then swept down at her.

Harry yelped, only for the owl to hover, flapping in front of her with a reproachful cry.

She held out an arm.

The weight that settled there was… not much. Barely more than Blackscale if he was gorged. The owl's talons wrapped around her wrist, biting into the cloth, but just missing breaking the skin.

Harry let out a long, whistling breath, and nodded to the bird.

"Hullo."

XXX

It wasn't Fluffy, but it was a start.

The owls were smart enough to understand her, and a few of the more emotive ones would actively respond to her.

Harry had taken a seat on a white-splattered bench along the wall of the owlery. The eagle-owl, still occupying her arm, was her main focus. A few probing questions had revealed that it was male, and rather proud in a way that had nothing to do with his arrogant, feathered brow, and everything to do with the way he pecked her if she annoyed him.

But he was gorgeous. The way his feathers layered, varying in shape and size depending on their function, reminded her of snake scales. His eyes were a brilliant, blood red, and bright with the intelligence she could read inside all of the letter-carriers.

Harry sat and simply studied him for a long while. The owl preened under her attention, casting smug looks at the other owls that had congregated to watch.

How come she could talk to Blackscale and not them? Why was parseltongue a specific talent? Seriously. There had to be a spell to speak to animals. That was about as classical as it got.

She squinted, focusing her magic on the owl.

Talking. Communication. Understanding. Translation.

Tendrils of her power brushed across the owl's core. Glimmers of it bled through, muted, emotions sharper, but also less complex than a human's.

Fraying. Splitting.

The connection was waning; focusing on it and the owl was too much, stretching her mind in ways it wasn't meant to go.

Fragmented flashes of imagery, a world seen through eyes infinitely superior to hers.

The link broke like glass. She drew back, clutching her head. The eagle-owl gave a grumpy squawk and pecked her on the shoulder.

"Right, right. I get it."

A dull throb had taken up residence behind her left eye.

Was that because she'd botched the connection, or because she'd been trying to understand an owl's thoughts with her human brain?

"Did you get anything from that?" she asked the owl.

He pecked her squarely in the forehead.

"Ouch!"

There were footsteps coming up the stairs. Harry turned awkwardly, balancing the bird, realizing as she did so that she tasted copper.

Her free hand rose to probe. Not her forehead, but her nose. A thin streamer sliding down to her lips.

A boy emerged from the stairwell.

He was blond and pale, cheeks already rosy in the chill. The blush did nothing to detract from a sharp, pointed face, and robes far nicer than the off the rack stuff she wore. The poised way he stood, eyebrow raised, looked strange on someone her age.

And then he spoke- "What do you think you're doing with my owl?" -smooth face furrowing, voice petulant, and the illusion was broken.

Harry pinched her nose shut. "Sowwy." She jiggled her arm, trying to urge the owl toward the boy, only for the bird to snap its beak at her. "Dibn't know 'e was yours."

"Stolas, come here." The boy waved a roll of parchment at the owl.

With a rush of wings, the owl took flight. He snatched the roll from the boy's hand and kept going, straight out the window.

"You're supposed to let me tie it on!" the boy yelled after him.

Harry found herself cradling her wrist as well now. Stolas' talons had dug in when he took off.

"Episkey. Episkey." Stopping her nosebleed took another four tries, finally ceasing when she combined the motion for relieving pressure with siphoning fluid. Hopefully the blood just went back to where it should be and… didn't cause an aneurysm or something, because she didn't think motions were supposed to be combined.

"Are you doing wandless healing?" the boy exclaimed. "Show me."

Harry cast a dour look at him, but it didn't stop him from leaning over her to watch.

Her wrist was easier. The owl's talons had cut five small gashes in her skin. She pinched each shut between ring finger and thumb, then drew her index over the cut. Rinse and repeat, finishing with rinsing the excess blood off with Aquamenti.

"Impressive." The boy made to offer her a hand, glanced down at her bloodied, dirt-stained palms, and withdrew it before bowing his head slightly. "Draco Malfoy."

"Harriet Riddle."

She rose from the bench so she wouldn't have to talk up to him. Stolas had left behind a few feathers on her robes, which she pocketed, noticing as she did that he'd done far more damage to her sleeve than her skin.

"Wonderful," she muttered, poking a finger through the rent cloth.

"You're that parselmouth, aren't you?"

She tensed. The boy had a green tie. Another Slytherin looking for a show?

"I am."

But Malfoy was rubbing his chin. "Riddle… I know I've heard that name before. Are you pureblood?"

"Orphan."

"Oh." He recovered quickly. "Where did you learn to heal like that?"

She shrugged. "Practiced."

Hunger flashed across his features before he covered it with a smile. There was definitely something too sharp, too sly about this boy.

"Show me how. I'm sure you know this, but the Malfoys have a lot of pull in Britain. And Father is a school governor. It wouldn't be hard to put in a good word for you in return."

Harry blinked slowly at him. What did that even mean? A good word for what?

"No thanks."

His brows knit together. "What do you want then?"

It took her a moment to find an answer. Malfoy was a pureblood. And if he was as important as he seemed to think he was, then he'd almost certainly grown up with magic.

"What spells do you know?"

"Oh. I see," Malfoy said, nodding. "Do you do trades in Ravenclaw too? Give and take?"

She nodded back.

His smile gave way to a look of concentration. "I know a lot of hexes and curses that don't get used much. Father showed me the Bone-Breaker once, if you want something really dark."

"What would I do with that?" Harry said. "Do you know anything… uhm… practical?"

"Curses are practical."

Were all Slytherins this creepy?

"Actually practical stuff. Like- I know how to make fire or water, heal wounds, find north, uh- unlock locks. Something usable every day."

Judging by the incredulous look Malfoy was giving her, he genuinely thought curses were that. But then he sighed, rubbing his eyes in exasperation. "Trust a girl to only want to learn domestic nonsense. That's what house elves are for."

An ugly jag of anger went through her. "Have a nice day, Malfoy."

Harry turned on her heel and headed for the stairwell.

"Wait! You- wait." Malfoy had his wand out. "Your robes. Do you know how to fix them?"

She stopped walking.

XXX

They traded.

Malfoy taught her Reparo, a spell of almost frightening utility. In return, Harry began showing him how to do wandless magic. It wasn't easy for him, Malfoy was very attached to his wand, and had to be coached gently or he'd start sniping at her.

It was a bit like what she imagined teaching Dudley to do something was. Both had a strongly developed sense of self-importance to tiptoe around. Malfoy was oilier, but at the very least, useful.

Reparo was, without a doubt, the most useful spell she'd learned thus far. It repaired things. There were limits on how many times something could be fixed, and it couldn't create 100% from whole cloth, but it worked on everything. It was the least Harry could do not to drool in front of Malfoy.

By the time the sun was touching the top of the forest, painting the grounds orange, Harry had gotten Draco (please, if I may call you Harry?), through the very basics of feeling his magic and having an intent.

"Same time on Wednesday?" Malfoy had said, and Harry had shrugged.

A trade was a trade.

She had no problem teaching him if he kept coming up with spells as good as Reparo. And teaching itself was helpful. Having to enunciate and explain the little details of wandless magic forced her to develop a more concrete understanding of exactly what she did, beyond vague feelings and thinking really hard to make things happen.

When Malfoy finally departed down the stairs to go to dinner (Harry declined his invitation. She wasn't in the mood for a boisterous Halloween feast), Harry found herself with a warm sense of fulfillment. It had been a very profitable meeting. Even the lingering sense of disquiet over house elves and her own impurity couldn't detract from the massive leap in survival magic she'd made today.

Harry ambled to one of the glassless windows, leaning on a relatively clean part of the sill. She'd give Malfoy a five-minute head start, and then go visit Fluffy. He'd be lonely, cooped up while everyone was at dinner.

XXX

Fluffy's door was locked.

She pressed a thumb to it, pushed her magic in like she was filling the keyhole with water, and then twisted.

Fluffy's door was unlocked.

She slipped in.

He knew her well enough by now that she didn't even have to sing for him. The cerberus sniffed her hands and licked her face, and Harry pressed her nose to his fur. He smelled like dog, scaled up by ten. A musky scent uniquely Fluffy.

"I missed you."

She examined him, meeting each set of dark eyes, one at a time. Fluffy wore his magic in his fur and hide. That wasn't the only spot it was- it suffused every inch of him, just as hers filled her body, but his core was more ill-defined. Branching, the magic of three, separate intelligences meeting at a loose nexus in his barreled chest.

Could she speak to him? Understand his thoughts and feelings?

Fluffy's left head turned to look at the pile of cow bones he kept in the corner. They were splintery and cracked, gnawed ragged by three sets of jaws. Left-head barked thunderously. A moment later, the other two barked back in agreement.

On the other hand… was there any need to?

Her head still ached from trying Stolas anyway.

Harry shot him a closed-lipped smile, using her voice to intone her excitement at the idea.

"Let's run around a bit."

XXX

Fluffy's room was another of those variable spaces Hogwarts had. Big some days, small on others. It was long and wide, a cathedral hall, today.

They played fetch until Fluffy crushed the last bone to powder. He was panting, his muzzle flecked with froth, but his tail hadn't stopped wagging. He padded back to her, bent to drink from his dish (big enough she could have swam in it), and then flopped over on the mound of hay that was his bed.

Fluffy gave a pleased sort of grumble as she came over and took a seat against one heaving flank.

"You've met Blackscale before. I made a new friend this morning. She doesn't have a name yet, but she just hatched."

She held up the baby snake for Fluffy to sniff. The hatchling bared her fangs at him, but Fluffy just snuffled thoughtfully and withdrew, laying his leftmost head down beside Harry.

"I've been telling her about all the stuff in the castle. This is Fluffy. He's a prisoner here."

Hogwarts seemed to have a lot of those.

"Uhm. What were we talking about last time I was here?" Fluffy's ears perked up. "Right. I was telling you a story. You can hear it too, if you want," she added to the little snake.

"Where were we? Had we gotten to the part with the mines yet?"

Fluffy's center head shook left-right.

"Okay. So the Fellowship couldn't make it over the mountains, so they had to go through these mines. Dwarven mines- where Gimli was from." Pause. "Are dwarves real?"

Center-head nodded.

"Huh. So these mines were sealed, and-"

XXX

She talked until the windows went dark.

The snakes were still, Blackscale silent, but she could tell they were listening. Fluffy's left and right heads were dozing, the latter snoring loudly, but the center was attentive enough for all three of them.

Harry was just getting into the segment with the Balrog- she hadn't understood most of the book, really, but it had been one of the few she'd smuggled into her cupboard – when the other two heads snapped up.

Fluffy came to his feet so suddenly that Harry was bowled over. He stood, limbs stiff, his heads cocked to listen. Left-head lifted his lip, a bass growl starting in Fluffy's chest.

"What's wrong?"

He was staring at the door.

Harry rose and crept toward it. Pressed her ear against the wood. It was too thick to hear anything, but she trusted his ears better than hers.

She twisted the knob and opened the door, hinges groaning.

Outside, the corridor was dark. The torches had all gone out. No- Harry glanced up and down the hall. All the torches were out. There was no light bleeding in from the central stair, or through any of the windows.

She crept out, letting the door creak closed behind her.

The darkness was unsettling; the castle more like a massive cave than a building. Her ears pricked for a sound, some indicator the disturbance had been noted, but the silence was all-encompassing.

Two steps away from the door. Her heart had started pounding at some point, loud enough to be audible in the quiet.

And then, far off in the castle, someone screamed. Shrill, muffled by distance, but still enough to make Harry jump and gasp, her back to the wall.

Part of her, a calm, rational, stereotypically Ravenclaw voice, was certain that this was just a Halloween prank. Some grand display for the feast, designed to scare everyone.

But it didn't feel like that.

It hadn't sounded like a fun scream. And why was every single light out?

Her fingers twitched. There were spells. Lumos. Incendio. Solas Realta. Lux Manum. Any of which would burn away the dark and give her a way to see where she was going.

And then what?

Descending the labyrinth of stairs to get to the Great Hall- assuming the stairs were even functioning. Seeking out a teacher.

Another scream. This one masculine, hoarse with agony.

Harry drew a shaky breath.

She turned on her heel and walked back to Fluffy's door. Fumbling in the dark for the knob. Her fingers had just touched metal when footsteps echoed down the corridor.

She looked up.

Someone was running down the hall, but it was too dark to see- her eyes flicked towards shadowy patches, trying to glimpse whoever it was.

Ragged breathing. The sound of robes dragging and swishing.

Harry raised a hand, preparing to cast. The first motes of Lumos flickered into being around her, suddenly, blindingly bright after so long in the night.

The figure- impossible to see through her ruined nightvision, but it was there, a dozen feet away.

"Reis!"

Magic hooked around her and pulled. The Lumos burst apart into nothing. Her shoes dragged across stone, rubber shrieking, and then she left the floor entirely to slam against the far wall.

Harry cried out as her head and back impacted, her vision rolling sickeningly under the pain. She tried to clutch her skull, but her hands were pressed flat, like gravity itself had turned against her.

Footsteps shuffled to a stop in front of her.

She blinked away tears, trying to make out the figure in the darkness.

There was an instant where she could see dark robes, and above them, the sallow face of Professor Snape, and then his wand was aimed squarely at her chest.

"Pr-professor?" She could taste blood again. A bitten tongue. "...why?"

He hesitated, determined expression falling away, replaced with a stunned blankness.

"Potter."

His wand hadn't faltered.

"What were you doing?"

Harry tried to shake her head- couldn't. The throb of pain even attempting it gave was nauseating. "Nothing."

At her throat, Blackscale was wriggling feebly, just as restrained as she was. Snape saw the snake and his face darkened. "Bullesco."

His magic slid in between them and jerked Blackscale away. A bubble, blue-green, formed around the snake, floating up to stick to the ceiling.

"No!" Harry shouted. "Bring him back!"

Snape's hand found the neck of her robes. He pulled, lifting her up to his level, stale breath in her face. Up-close, he looked dreadful. The skin around his mouth was raw and inflamed, and half the veins in his left eye had burst, red star-bursts on white. Even his robes were dirty, the front smeared with something foul, chunks of wet matter that stank of vomit.

"Tell me what you were doing."

"Nothing!" Her voice was hoarse, a shriek in her ears. "I was visiting Fluffy and you attacked me!"

"I have no time for your childish games, Potter," Snape said, grinding out the words. "Someone thought it would be amusing to poison the entire Halloween feast. Myself included. And here I find you. Not at dinner. Out of bounds, casting magic at the door to the most secure location in the castle. Almost as if the feast was nothing but a distraction. Who told you to come here?"

"I was visiting Fluffy!"

A muscle ticked in his cheek. "Liar. The beast is too vicious for anyone to approach. Were you supposed to find a way past it?"

The hot, impotent anger that filled her only hurt more when the tears started in. But he wasn't hearing her. No matter what she said, he just kept snarling at her. She just shook her head, throat and eyes burning.

"Tell me, you stupid, little girl," Snape said, sneering. "There is too much at stake here. If you won't tell the truth, you force my hand. Look at me."

His hand snapped up, catching her chin, turning her face toward his. Harry shut her eyes. She knew what was coming. She struggled, trying to summon her magic to push him away, to stop this, but the focus required was buried beneath terror.

"Look. At. Me!"

" No! Stop it!"

Rough, cold fingers on her cheeks, and then his thumbs pressed to her eyelids. Tears bubbled over.

Their eyes met.

She screamed.

XXX

Memory rushed up and devoured her. A roar of past days, flashes of images and scenes and sounds blurring into a cacophony.

"Not Har-" "-rriet." "Riddle!" "Useless girl." "Car crash." "cupboard." "Speaker?" "Ouro-" "Serpensortia!"

She was drowning. There was no reality outside the torrent in her head. Snape's magic was flowing in and tearing her apart, cutting to the very depths of Her.

His voice echoed through her skull. 'Show me who sent you. Who wants the stone?'

Snape was pulling up memories, sifting and discarding faster than she could comprehend them.

A park- climbing a stairwell- making dinner- the orphanage- catching a snake behind the chapel- Blackscale laughing at her- telling him stories- whispering in Parseltongue-

He was getting closer. She could sense it in the way his focus narrowed, refining toward a particular venue of thought. There was a memory drawing near. A bright, shining memory, the details sharpened by the times she'd revisited it.

Quirrel. Narrow face split with a thin smile. His praise. His words and his magic.

It was their secret.

It was not for Snape.

' Show me.'

No.

'Who sent you? Who gave you that name?! '

No.


There was no turning him away, no way to push him out. He was stronger in every conceivable way.

There was only one refuge.

Get out. Get out get out getoutgetoutget- § el ǐ s ǐ m- ȿǐε § el ǐ s ǐ m- ȿǐε § el ǐ s ǐ m- ȿǐε .

Snape's intrusion paused.

' What is this?'

Ƨǽ-ȿǐ , šƨ άѳ. § el ǐ s ǐ m- ȿǐε!

' What are you doing, Potter? I am trying to help you. You' ve been bewitched ! This will not-'


But his violation had stopped. He was recoiling, trying to regroup.

Harry kept repeating it, the parseltongue a mantra, a common thread overriding all thought.

§ el ǐ s ǐ m- ȿǐε § el ǐ s ǐ m- ȿǐε § el ǐ s ǐ m- ȿǐε § el ǐ s ǐ m- ȿǐε § el ǐ s ǐ m- ȿǐε § el ǐ s ǐ m- ȿǐε § el ǐ s ǐ m- ȿǐε § el ǐ s ǐ m- ȿǐε

Snape's fury poured through his magic. He was pushing, but there were no memories for him to grasp. She focused on the words and let everything else fall away. The sibilant noise. Vibration in her lips and tongue.

He swore and redoubled. There was pain now, a terrible wrenching in her head and in her magic.

And then there was something else.

Another magic. A thrum against hers. Far off, drawing rapidly nearer.

Her mantra faltered, and Snape nearly broke through into her thoughts again, but there was surprise tinging his mind now. Shock, and then- a different sort of anger.

He withdrew.

XXX

She was on the floor. That thought alone penetrated the haze of pain she returned to. There was more blood in her mouth and nose, clogging her sinuses. The nails-on-bone feeling of a migraine was in full force, and it was only as she curled up, clutching her head, that she realized she was able to move freely.

There was vibration in the stones beneath her.

Her eyelids split slowly, even the darkness of the hall too bright.

A blurred shape moved above her. Another, beyond it, gestured back. There was shouting, a vacuous roar that her brain couldn't even begin to interpret.

She shut her eyes again.

The noise and clamor faded into white noise.

Harry held her skull and waited for the pain to ease.

"Speaker." A scaled body brushed against her forearm. She jerked, unfolding just enough to grope blindly on the floor. Her hand found Blackscale's back, and she snatched him up, letting him slide back beneath her robes.

"You are safe," he whispered. "Your sire is here."

She barely heard him. A free hand patted the front of her robes- the hatchling was still there, wriggling in her pocket. Unharmed. Harry let out a breath.

"Harry." Quirrel's voice this time, so soft she could barely hear it. His hand pressed to her shoulder a moment later- she jerked, but it didn't draw away. The contact was like a rush of ice water- his presence washing away the worst of the pain, blunting the edges and soothing the heat.

"Hospital wing," he murmured, speaking English now. "Severus, what in the hell were you thinking? She's only a child!" His hand left her – Harry groaned in spite of herself – only to return. He slid an arm under her back, the other against her legs, and lifted.

The motion made the room spin even with her eyes closed, and she curled up tighter, thumbs jammed into her temples.

He walked.

Things blurred.

XXX

A heartbeat.

Soft and steady. The metronome that she set her breath by. The pain was a little less with each exhale.

He had his hand against the back of her neck, fingers contouring the skin, thumb rubbing gentle circles in her hair. It was more, this close to him, more than it had been. Something bone deep. Like sinking into sleep.

His heartbeat.

The unfamiliar warmth of another's body against hers. Pressed to his chest as he carried her.

Carried her away-

-away from-

She blinked. The world sharpened. Darkened corridors, dim silver in the moonlight.

" Professor?"

"Just a little bit further."


She shut her eyes again, letting his touch press fingers into her brain and wipe away the world.

It was only too soon before a door creaked open and interrupted her reverie. A sharp, chemical smell, and stones so steeped in a clean, clear magic that they were permanently whitened.

When she opened her eyes this time, everything was wavering. The hospital wing swam in and out of focus, patches of shadow smearing across her vision. Trying to interpret it made her skull ache, driving spikes into the backs of her eyes until she closed them.

"'fessor," she rasped. The parseltongue came out slurred. "I feel- feel terrible."

"I know."
He hadn't stopped tracing patterns in her hair, but he'd stopped walking. "Go to sleep for me, Harry." His thumb stilled.

"Ad Morphea."

His magic pulsed through her once, lighting up nerves and curling toes, and then sinking into her, soft and insistent.

The sound of his heartbeat chased her all the way down.

XXX

A brush.

Something unfamiliar. Contact. Probing.

No.

It was- again.

No!

Someone was- their magic on her-

Her own power surged, forcing the intruder away, raw panic overriding conscious thought.

Harry shot up in bed, heart explosive, already trying to run. Hands caught at her, pressing her back, and she cried out, trying to break away.

"Miss Riddle! Calm yourself!" a woman shouted. The grip tightened, a man's hands holding her fast, drawing forth an animal whine from her throat.

"Speaker, they try to aid you!" Blackscale's voice, and the protective torque of him around her throat were enough to make her freeze. Her eyes finally caught up with her, the room slowly coming into focus, bringing with it the angry throb of her migraine.

Harry turned her head to see her attackers. Madame Pomfrey stood on the opposite side of the bed, looking uncharacteristically disheveled. The one holding her was an unfamiliar wizard. Baby-faced and blond, with emerald green robes. At second glance, the man had an odd bandoleer filled with glass potion vials, and a patch over his heart- a wand crossed with a bone.

"All with us, darling?" he asked.

After a moment, she nodded jerkily.

The man grinned and let go of her. Harry, after a glance at the two adults, slid back to the edge of her bed and sat down, stroking Blackscale. The comforting texture of his scales gave her something to focus on, her rapid breaths slowing little by little.

"I hope we didn't frighten you."

" I- That's- okay."

The wizard recoiled. "What in the- Pomfrey, I thought she was healed?"

Madame Pomfrey tapped her nail against her clipboard. "She's fine, Mister Sedgewick. Miss Riddle, please return to English so we can finish your exam."

It took her a moment to understand. And another to force her speech back, replacing smooth, sliding words with rough and glottal.

"I said I'm fine."

"Zounds." Sedgewick was blinking, somewhere between surprised and bemused. "That's certainly-"

"Very good." Pomfrey stepped forward, cutting off any more. "Secondary diagnostics, please." She waved her wand at Harry, who flinched at the invasive magic and had to make a conscious effort not to force it away again. A second later, Sedgewick mimicked her, generating a scroll of parchment from his wand tip that he handed to the older woman.

The matron examined it, her face tight, before returning her attention to Harry."I healed the worst of the bruising in your back and head while you slept. Any pain you're experiencing right now should resolve with bed rest. No strenuous casting for at least 3 days, your reserves will be needed to help keep you healthy."

"Okay." As long as there wouldn't be any more casting on her.

"Miss Riddle, I-" Pomfrey hesitated, glancing at the parchment again, before her face softened. "I need to move on. There are others I need to see to. But, if you are able, I'd like to meet with you as soon as this matter is resolved. It would be confidential. Just you and I, healer to patient."

Harry curled in on herself. Teachers never wanted to speak to you alone unless it was bad. She was in trouble. Snape could have spun any number of stories already. And there was no denying that she had been in the forbidden corridor. Or perhaps Pomfrey would leave punishment to Flitwick, and this was just to examine her parseltongue ability like a particularly interesting medical specimen?

She didn't know the woman well enough to answer, but Pomfrey seemed to take her stiff silence as answer enough. She nodded and swept away, moving on to the next bed.

"Get some rest, yeah?" Sedgewick shot her a wink before scurrying along after Pomfrey. Harry turned to watch them go, only to realize for the first time the state of the infirmary.

Every bed was filled.

The hospital wing had been deserted when she came in. The room now stretched on far longer than it had in the past, with many, many more beds, every one filled. As she watched, Professor McGonagall summoned three more into existence. The beds had no sooner skidded to a halt than they were occupied- injured students popping into them like bizarre fireworks.

Other teachers, it looked like most of them, minus, to her relief, Snape, had been drafted into service as well. A few beds away, Professor Sinistra was drawing signs in the air over a retching, wheezing Slytherin. There were a number of strangers among them, more adults in green robes like Sedgewick, who Harry supposed were wizarding doctors.

Her eye fell on the nearest bed. The occupant was sleeping uneasily, tossing and turning under the sheets. They rolled over, and Harry shivered, unable to stifle a gasp. She knew this girl. Not by name. But her face was familiar. A Gryffindor girl that she had Herbology with. A real know-it-all who Harry tried to avoid because she got a lot of attention from professors. Her face, normally so proud, so keen, was now puffy, her eyes swollen, cheeks shiny with fever sweat.

Without thought, Harry reached out, spreading her awareness to the girl. It- she drew back instantly, hissing. It was like reaching her hand into scalding water. The Gryffindor's magic was on full-alert, mobilized to fight off whatever ailment she had, and was fiercely defensive of anything that might be a threat. How did the healers even work when their patients' bodies were fighting off all-comers? The textbooks she'd read hadn't covered that.

Across the room, someone moaned, their voice thick with pain. The sound seemed to kick off a chorus. Or perhaps Harry had simply been numb, trying to ignore the sounds. A groan. A low, keening wail. Someone screeching, far down the ward. A hurk, and then the unmistakable sound of splattering vomit. The Gryffindor girl, silent, but for hands balling in sheets hard enough to make the cloth creak.

Harry listened, nausea and fear intertwined and surging in her throat, her head still throbbing. Snape had said the whole school was poisoned. But they weren't all here. Had… were the ones who weren't- were they dead? Or were the ones here going to die?

Across from the Gryffindor, an older boy sat up in bed. Another face. Robbie Celtran. A fifth year in her house who liked to make flashcards in return for spare change. He was shuddering under the sheets, his limbs quivering and spasming uncontrollably, even as his face grew red with the effort of trying to still himself.

And down the line. Was that the white-blond hair of Malfoy?

Was Su somewhere in here? Or Ron? Neville?

Her eyes burned. How many times did that make today? More than the last year combined. But… if she walked down the ward and saw one of her friends, it felt like the tears would just turn on and never stop. Like something would break, and she already felt so brittle.

She couldn't stay here. Not in this- this sickbed.

She waited until Sinistra moved on to the next patient, her attention elsewhere.

Harry didn't run. People looked at running things.

She walked briskly out of the hospital wing on legs like rubber.

XXX

The walk back to Ravenclaw was deathly silent, and Harry kept glancing over her shoulder. But the halls were empty, the torches relit. Whatever commotion had occurred seemed to be over.

The tower was the barest relief. There was no murmur of talk in the dorms, and even the fires were extinguished. The normally airy common room felt stagnant, the desks not so empty as deserted. The handful of magical signatures she could feel were subdued, either sleeping or laying unhappily awake. But they were there, and they were alive. Her fears that Hogwarts had turned into some kind of charnel house were soothed.

She found her room, locking the door behind her. Then she checked the dorm for anything out of the ordinary. Inch by inch, running her magic over the surfaces and furniture. Anything that might indicate an intruder. It was an impulse she didn't quite understand, only that she needed to know that she was alone. That she was safe.

There was more she wanted to do- to bathe and scrub away the infirmary and Snape's magic on her, but the idea of straying out again was paralyzing.

There was too much of magic unknown. Snape had been an unknown.

Only when the room was secured did she set Blackscale down beside her pillow. The hatchling, who hissed grumpily at Harry when she pulled her free, was set beside the adder. It hadn't been the ideal first day, and she was too exhausted at this point to put any thought into what to do with her.

Then she turned and, wand in hand for once, cast at the door. It was a crude transfiguration- the edges of the door melted into the frame, the wood taking on the properties of stone. If she was better at it, the entire door would have become indistinguishable from the wall, but the skill and knowledge were beyond her.

She did the same for the windows before firmly drawing the curtains. Only then did she shuck her robes and change into her night clothes.

For a while, she sniffled, staring blindly at the ceiling, too tired to even cry, and too numb to do more than wipe her cheeks once in a while.

Her thoughts, dragged down by exhaustion, became more and more confused, and when she finally drifted off, her dreams were such violent, chaotic messes that she woke at once, shivering.

Odd, out of sorts memories kept floating to the surface, like Snape had ripped them loose from their moorings. Flashes of horrible things she'd done her best to forget. Embarrassments and humiliations at the Dursleys, and worse- some shadowy, formless memories that seemed to contain only flashes of green light and screaming. Men and women whose faces she didn't know, contorting and twisting in agony before finally being snuffed out with that hellish corpse-light. And then it was faces she did know. Ron and Su and the Gryffindor girl, cheeks hollowed by sickness, withering and wasting before her eyes.

She woke from the dream. It was a long time before she could breathe.

XXX

The idea of returning to the nightmares was enough to make her sit up in bed and kick off the blankets.

"Blackscale." He lifted his head at once. Not sleeping either. "Can you- can you just talk for a little bit?"

The adder came and coiled in her lap, his weight just enough to hold her from getting up and pacing. An anchor against the fear.

"Have I told you where snakes come from?" He paused, not because he expected her to answer, but because it was more dramatic. "The first serpent was the Ouroboros. Not your sire. The real thing. He bit his tail and formed the boundaries of the universe. From there..."

He talked.

Harry let it wash over her.

She did not try to sleep again.

XXX

Blackscale finally lost his voice, having grown hoarser and hoarser through his many, many stories about why snakes were perfect. He rasped to a halt, and she put a hand on his head, nodding to him.

The far horizon had grown slightly brighter, sunrise still far off. She slipped out of bed, and pulling on Blackscale like a scarf, departed her room.

The stone floors were chilly, making her birdstep her way to the bathroom. Normally, she'd worry about having to shower with someone else in the room, but it was uncomfortably the opposite today. Even early, there was usually some sense of life in the dorms. This morning, she felt like a ghost, haunting empty rooms in a dark tower.

The shower noise helped a bit.

She stayed under until her skin was lobster red, taking her time to get every trace of Halloween off. The blood dried under her nails was familiar. The grime from Fluffy's room, expected. But the dingy, purpling bruise in the shape of a hand on her upper arm… that, she didn't remember.

It wasn't something she could scrub away, and, somehow, in the timeless, too-still of the early morning, she couldn't recall a single thing she'd learned about healing.

Harry stood, shower pattering against the top of her head, studying the mark. Was she supposed to just go to class with him? Pretend it never happened?

Was she just supposed to let it keep happening?

XXX

The shower refreshed her just a little. It was something normal. The kind of thing she always did in the morning. Harry continued her routine by dressing, tying her hair back, and then grabbing her bag and the two snakes.

But the dorms were still too quiet, and she was still awake. Her brain was packed full of everything that had happened on Halloween, and without the buffer of sleep it was like living a single, endless day. Memories were piling up. The migraine had faded, less shooting or throbbing than just droning, a constant, low-level ache.

A notice had appeared on the common room bulletin board. Classes were canceled for the day. Harry stared at it blankly for a few moments before the words made sense. Of course they were.

She rubbed her eyes and headed for the door.

The walk down from the tower was more of the same. Eerie silence, with hallways too big and too empty. She felt strangely outside of herself. Different. Off. Her body felt somehow similar; too big and too small, like it was crushing down on her, but also as if she was apart from it, nothing more than a pair of eyes inhabiting a shell.

The thought it would take to plan a route was beyond her, so she wandered, taking stairs as they came. Little by little, descending. When her destination finally appeared around a corner, Harry found herself standing outside the door, unsure of what to even do.

Twice, she nearly turned on her heel and left. Both times, it was the soreness, the bruise on her arm that turned her back.

Finally, she gulped, swallowing her spit, thick and uneasy on an empty stomach, and knocked.

For a long moment there was silence.

And then a flickering, quavering spirit entered her field. A click, the lock sliding open, and then the door.

Quirinus Quirrel peered down at her, his face stubbly, his eyes sunken and heavy.

" Sir. Please, I need- I need your help."

XXX

XXX

This went through a FUCK TON of drafts. Like, there's at least 50 pages of drafts in my in-progress doc. Initial goals were to have this be the chapter where Harry and Quirrel finally get that sit-down talk, but it kept diverging too much. The backbone of this- Harry getting bummed over house elves and exploring, was a really early draft.

Most of the middle ones were a lot more out there, mostly centered around Harry returning all those snakes she summoned by hand, ending up in the forbidden forest just in time for the school's Samhain celebration, with that Quirrel conversation finally happening.

That conversation was the original final segment to this chapter, following her into his office. But on my final pass on this draft, I realized it was already 9500 words, and I didn't want to make two chapters, so you get it cut off here we so we spend more time with Quirrel next time.

If you're wondering why it took me so long... I wanted this chapter to be perfect. It was meant to be the moment where Harry finally falls under Quirrel's snares. An almost climactic moment in the story, and where things finally get started. So I wanted it to be flawless. What we ended up with... it's not perfect, but I'm fairly happy with what it is. I'll probably reuse most of the creepier Quirrel and Harry conversation material next chapter so it doesn't go to waste. He is such a fucking creepazoid...

My one real disappointment here is that I'd been playing with having the troll show up somehow, with Fluffy busting out of his cell to defend Harry, papa wolf style. Almost ended up having him be the one to save Harry from Snape, not Quirrel. I'll probably keep Fluffy for later...

If you're wondering why Snape was such a nutter-butter? Dude just jammed a bezoar down his throat and made a beeline for the third floor corridor, and he's STILL shaking off the effects of poison. He's not thinking too rationally, and Harry is pretty goddamn suspicious. Not particularly a spoiler, as it's going to be the beginning of next chapter anyway, but he was fairly sure that Harry's weird behavior was the result of a Confundus or Imperious, and that's why he Legilimized her.
 
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Parselbrat 9 (HP)
9

He shut the door behind her.

Harry crept in like a mouse, glancing about.

Quirrel's office was on the far side of the castle, as of yet untouched by the sun. He had no torches or candles lit, and the interior was dim, shaded midnight blue by the light that did make it through the circular windows.

The odor of garlic was less than she remembered, but that might have to do with him not wearing his turban.

He wasn't wearing robes either, just a slacks and a button-up shirt, both wrinkled like he'd slept in them. It made him look… diminished. Beneath the baggy shroud of his robes, he was skeletal, his limbs insectile, his skull nearly that.

Actually, now that she looked at him, and at the door hanging ajar at the back of the office, it seemed more likely that she'd woken him.

It was that door that he walked towards, turning midway to look at her.

"Are you coming?"

Harry scurried after.

She lingered in the door for the briefest instant – his personal quarters, and him nearly a stranger – before reality caught up with her. She'd come here to ask him for help. If she was too afraid to follow him here, what sense was there in even coming to him?

Once again, a door closed behind her.

It was warmer in his rooms; not much, but enough to remind her of how drafty the castle was, and that she hadn't bothered to dress for the weather before rushing out. She was still shivering beneath her robes, and the strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail to hang in her face were unpleasantly damp.

But cold didn't stretch her nerves like piano wire. Cold didn't make her feel like her eyes were barely glued in their sockets. They throbbed slightly, bloodshot veins protesting as she took in Quirrel's chambers.

His sitting room was circular, the walls bookshelved from floor to ceiling, broken by two other doors and a fireplace. It was dim, the only light coming from a solitary candle beside the right door, and a hazy glow from the banked embers in the hearth.

Quirrel stood beside the fireplace, hand resting on the back of a loveseat. "Come. Sit."

She went to him. The loveseat was plush, cushioned enough to nearly swallow her up, and she had to perch on the edge, feet dangling. There was a smushed pillow to one side, and a quilt.

A snap of his fingers had the fire burst back into life, the heat soaking into her bones. Harry groaned softly, squeezing fingers and toes as they thawed.

Quirrel sank onto the loveseat beside her, rubbing at his eyes. It was only when he looked up that she realized how worn he looked. It was more than her simply waking him prematurely. There were lines in his face that hadn't been there last she saw him, and his posture wasn't its usual razor-sharpness. He'd probably been up all night dealing with the poisoning.

But he looked at her and said nothing.

Harry looked back, body warming, hands clenched in armpits defrosting. The heat was distracting. No- it was more than that. The softness of the loveseat, the fire, his patient gaze on her. Everything. Too much.

A dam broke. Her eyes burned, the room suddenly swimming. She swallowed, fighting back a lump. Stupid, senseless tears.

There were things that she'd wanted to say. Questions that she'd been meaning to ask for weeks. But now that she was actually here, all she could do was try not to blub like a baby. It was dumb. She felt dumb for doing it, but they were out of her control. She was too tired. Too weary. The headache Snape had caused was still hanging about in the space behind her eyes, in the muscle of her jaw.

Quirrel was so close to her, still watching and waiting. The couch wasn't big. Less than an arm's length between them.

If she reached out, would his magic soothe her as it had last night? Would it warm her as the fire did? It had dulled the pain. He'd protected her. Kept her safe.

Her hand rose, fingers trembling.

Just for a moment.

And then she caught it, pressed it back into her lap. Bowed her head so he couldn't see her face. Focused on Blackscale, fingers tracing his scales. The embarrassment was just enough to push back the tears.

"I would assume," Quirrel said, tone carefully neutral, "that you're here to speak to me about last night."

The rush of stupid, simple gratitude at him ignoring her was nearly enough to send her over the edge again. Instead, she swallowed. Petted Blackscale. Couldn't quite cough up the words in response, so she jerked a nod.

"Before I answer your questions, answer a few for me." He waited until she nodded once more before continuing. "Did Pomfrey finish treating you?"

She didn't know. The hospital wing was a blur of memory. What had Madame Pomfrey said? And the other healer- he'd had a name, but everything was indistinct now, lost in a moment that felt somehow days and seconds ago. But Harry had done a runner all the same.

She shook her head.

"Did you sleep at all last night? And we aren't counting when I enchanted you. Ad Morphea is not restful in the same way normal sleep is."

"An hour,"
she whispered. "Maybe."

"Insomnia, nightmares, or both?"

"Dreams."


Quirrel sighed, rubbing his temples. "Of course. What you're experiencing are the symptoms of mental damage." Harry gasped, but Quirrel cut her off. "Not mental illness, girl. Injury. A mental attack causes mental injury. You're as sane as I am.

"What Severus did to you was called Legilimency. The magic of invading another's mind to read their thoughts and memories."
His eyes were on her. Black. Iris and pupil one shade. Harry forced herself to meet them. He was not Snape. "Severus thought you were under the Imperius Curse to try and get past the dog."

"How do I stop it?"
Twice now, and she'd been powerless. If Quirrel hadn't come… The stomach-turning brush of Snape's magic, probing, like clutching hands on her skin. Tearing into her like talons.

But Quirrel could do it too.

"You seemed to do well enough last night," he said. "There are few wizards who could keep out Severus, and none your age. You used parseltongue to mask your thoughts, did you not?"

She nodded frantically, words beginning to tumble out of her."Yes, but it barely worked. He still got- there has to be a better way!"

"You're correct. Parseltongue was an unorthodox move. You caught him off-guard, but if he'd pushed, if he'd had time-"
If Quirrel hadn't come "-he'd have broken through. The techniques normally used to counter Legilimency are called Occlumency."

Harry leaned forward, facing him fully for the first time since they'd sat down. "You know it. Occlumency."

It was not a question, and his widening smirk told her she was correct.

"Any wizard with secrets to keep should know how to shield their mind. And you want me to show you how."

"Yes."
She stopped. Licked sun-split lips. "I mean- can you please teach me Occlumency?"

His smile was thin enough to slide between ribs."I would be happy to. However-" He held up a hand, cutting off her shout of thanks. "Occlumency is not a one-off lesson. It's the work of months of instruction and effort, much of it in your free time, but still a significant investment of time on my part."

"Oh."

"I wasn't refusing."


She jerked upright. "Sir!"

His eyebrows rose. "Don't interrupt, Harry, I wasn't finished. Learning to shield your mind means having to practice defending it. Which means I would be performing Legilimency on you repeatedly, seeing your thoughts and memories until you progress enough to drive me out." He was speaking softly, his voice a hiss barely audible over the fire. "It would not be as painful as when Snape did it, but there would be no secrets between us. No privacy."

That hadn't stopped him before. He wasn't doing it now, but she was only certain of that because she was stretched taut for anything remotely touching her mind.

He'd saved her last night.

But could she endure another session, another intrusion?

"I thought so," he said, seeming to read her hesitation. "If you do not feel up to it, there are books in the library on Occlumency."
The mind was so complex… how arcane would magic involving it be? She had trouble reading texts meant for her age group. Occlumency books would probably be like the time she'd cracked open a seventh-year's book on advanced arithmancy. A dense, inscrutable network of symbols and signs that she couldn't even begin to interpret.

"Would that be a viable way to learn it?" she asked.

Quirrel's thin shoulders rose the barest amount possible for a shrug. "Doubtful. I attempted to learn both Legilimency and Occlumency when I was a little older than you. It wasn't until I began practicing on others that I made progress."

So she could maybe muddle through Occlumency on her own, but it would never stand up to Snape, who'd probably had years to master Legilimency. Who else out there knew how to do it? How long until someone else peeled her mind apart for a laugh?

Her gaze swept around the parlour as she thought. Quirrel's bookshelves were neat and orderly, but packed to the brim. It was too dim to read the titles clearly, but the spines she could see were old and worn, marked with strange runes and calligraphy. She could feel them on the air, magic as ancient and musty as the pages, but still as palpable as incense. His rooms were steeped in it.

A lifetime of magical experience.

What other magics was she ignorant of, just waiting for another Snape to come along? Next time might be worse.

She found herself looking at Quirrel. Really, truly looking at him. Firelight cast dancing patterns of orange and red and black across his skin, making him look older, stranger, turning his dark eyes crimson. But his gaze was steady and intense. Waiting for her response.

There were strings here. She understood that. No one made an offer like this without getting something from it. He'd said himself that this was a huge timesink on his end, but he was still interested. He wanted something from her.

And she couldn't find it in herself to care.

She was so tired of these endless mysteries. Tired of being afraid, of having to doubt her every action.

So he'd be reading her mind. It wasn't like he didn't know all her secrets that mattered already. Quirrel even seemed to prefer Harry Riddle to Harriet Potter, and that- that was… a relief. He was someone she didn't have to lie to, and God, she was so exhausted of deception.

She was wary of this man and his motives. But every time she closed her eyes, she was back in the third floor hallway, having Snape's filthy magic dig its claws into her. It hurt to think of, but she couldn't stop doing it. And redirecting her thoughts was a constant burden, the memories raw and inflamed, not allowed to scab.

It had only been a few hours. How long until she had to sleep? Or worse- what if she couldn't? Night after night, tearing herself awake from emerald nightmares and Snape's predations.

Whatever cost he asked couldn't be any worse than Snape.

What had happened couldn't happen again.

Harry looked at Quirrel. And perhaps he saw what she was feeling, because he wasn't smiling now.

His gaze locked with hers. "Regardless of your decision, Harry, I'll be treating the wounds Snape left on your mind. My first exposure to Legilimency was not dissimilar to yours. The pain fades, but you never forget how it felt." He tapped one finger against his temple. "But your mind is an open book. And until you can close it, the world will continue to plunder freely.

What finally clinched it was a simple understanding, one that had her rise from the couch and step before him.

If he wanted to hurt her, he wouldn't need to trick her to do it. There was an unassailable gap between the power of a child and an adult. That was something she'd known long before Snape. Learning magic had just let her forget it for a time.

And perhaps… just maybe, she wanted to know that someone was looking out for her.

"Teach me Occlumency. Please." Her voice cracked on the last word, turning it into a gasp.

"I will teach you anything," he murmured, seeming to savor the thought. "Everything and more. Power to satisfy any desire. Magic far beyond the comprehension of small men like Severus Snape. The strength to never be at another's mercy again." His eyes, his focus on her, the dark, steady gravity of his magic. "Would you like that, Harry?"

Very slowly, Harry nodded her assent.

The fire caught the side of his face as he turned, cheekbone and chin and eye socket suddenly harsh and shadowed; the far side lost in gloom. The grinning, avaricious shape of the skull beneath the skin felt a much truer face for whoever this man was, and she found herself suddenly certain that he wanted this just as much as she did.

"I accept," he said.

A final nod, and then she was bowing her head lower. "Thank you, sir." She was trying to sound grateful, but the words came out heavy and exhausted. Willing or not, Snape had forced her down this road.

"Rise." The skull was impassive, even as Quirrel's face smiled contentedly. He leaned forward, elbows on knees. "Tell me, have you had breakfast yet?"

XXX

Apparently Hogwart's staff could summon house elves at will. Quirrel had carefully ushered Harry out of sight ("Let this meeting be our little secret.") before calling one. The batty little creature that appeared, bowed, heard his command, and then vanished, reappearing less than thirty seconds later with a full tray of breakfast food.

The scent of it, thick and greasy, was slowly filling the parlour. Harry picked at her plate, shunting eggs to bacon and back again, nerves and nausea holding any appetite firmly at bay.

Quirrel, who had ordered a coffee, had proceeded to ignore it, instead picking up vial after vial from his potions rack and setting them beside Harry's plate.

"Where to begin," he murmured, more to himself than her. "It's been too long since I've taken an apprentice."

Harry dropped her fork with a clatter. "Apprentice?"

Quirrel was currently out of her line of sight, but she could feel the flat stare he directed at her. "When an older, more experienced practitioner takes a novice to teach and instruct, that is typically considered an apprenticeship. You didn't honestly think I'd spend all this time on you just for Occlumency? I'd be a glorified tutor. When I said I would teach you anything, I meant it."

She'd been largely numb since the night before. Fear and anxiety, mixed with sadness and exhaustion had driven everything else out. Even their agreement had been an exercise in desperation and resignation.

His words shattered the malaise. The rush of hungry greed that swept through her was enough to overcome even the crippling exhaustion dragging her ever-down.

Harry stood up, nearly knocking over potions, tea, pumpkin juice.

"Anything," she repeated. "And if I wanted you to teach me other things?" Harry stopped to swallow, to put her words in order. "Like- survival spells. I want to be able to live on my own- alone, in the wild if I need to."

Quirrel raised his head from where he'd been examining a glass of blue-gray liquid. "Planning on running away?"

Harry hesitated. She didn't want to say too much. But he would probably see it in her mind eventually anyway.

"I don't like the place I live. I thought if I learned enough magic. Learned the right spells, I could just… leave it behind."

It sounded stupider out loud. Enough that she was sure he'd laugh and call her a child.

"I tried something very similar when I was your age," Quirrel mused. "But the Ministry put a stop to it quick enough. There's a Trace on underage wizards. If you want to get anywhere, we'll need to remove it." He smiled, potions passing through his thin fingers with casual grace. "And yes, I can do that, Harry. That actually helps provide some direction on what you'll be learning. The Trace first, and then we'll bond your familiar. Or would you prefer the latter first?"

"Familiar?"


She'd heard the word before, usually referring to Blackscale, but it didn't have any context that she understood.

"A magical servant. In your case, the snake that you hatched for me."

"Oh. Oh- I completely forgot!"
Harry fished into her pocket and pulled out the hatchling, holding her out to him.

He raised an eyebrow. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

"She's yours?"
Harry said, faltering. She was sort of nebulous on the whole ownership thing. Yes, by human standards, she owned Blackscale, but she didn't own him.

Quirrel gave a dismissive wave. "She's going to be your familiar. Consider her a belated birthday gift."

The words took a moment to parse.

Her eyes went wide, and, half-disbelieving, she slowly drew the baby back to her chest.

An irrational part of her was whispering that this would be the point where he would snatch it away. Laugh at her for thinking she got birthday presents. Even if it was months late, she'd never- July 31st had always been an ordinary day. The Dursleys made sure she knew it was nothing special.

Her fingertips closed around the thin tendon of the hatchling's body.

God, it was so small.

"Th-thank you, sir. It's- I mean…Thank you," she breathed.

"Her name is Nagini. She's a magical breed of my own creation, so I would recommend you not let her bite anyone you value."

Harry nodded rapidly to that, and returned the hatchling- Nagini to her pocket. The little snake curled up almost at once and went still.

The tension in her chest at this strange man thawed away, replaced with a dawning warmth that just happened to correspond with the tiny body pressed to her heart. Even the name felt right. Nagini. In parseltongue it was short and sleek, curling off the lips like smoke.

For the first time since she entered his office, Harry was certain she'd made the right choice.

Her eyes were itching again.

Harry padded toward him. There'd been something she'd meant to tell him at the start.

"Sir. You saved me last night." Parseltongue felt right. Words in their tongue, meant only for his ears. "And you took me as an apprentice. And now this, and- I just can't thank you enough."

Before she could talk herself out of it, she was lunging forward. Quirrel stiffened, eyebrows rising, and then Harry wrapped her arms around his waist. Her face pressed into his chest, much as it had the night before.

If she counted Hagrid, was Quirrel the second person she'd ever hugged? The feeling was strange. But nice. Like an ache she hadn't known she'd had was easing. He smelled like old books and ink, undercut with a hint of sweat, and his magic was thrumming just beneath his skin, a black shroud that had reached out to brush at her when she touched him.

Quirrel was motionless against her, but just as Harry drew back, his hands came up to catch the center of her back.

"My last apprentice did something very similar when I first took her under my wing," Quirrel said, chest gently humming with his voice. "Bella tried to stab me though. I would ask that you not imitate her in that."

For the first time that day, Harry found a laugh brewing. The terror wasn't gone yet, but it had retreated, lurking in a third-floor hallway at the back of her mind. Beneath the sound of his heart, it was barely noticeable at all.

XXX

When they separated, the moment passing, Quirrel was all-business again. He began passing her the potions he'd selected, and instructing her on their use.

Her favorite was definitely the Dreamless Sleep potion. There was apparently only enough to last for a week or so, and after that she was going to be relying on meditation and Occlumantic techniques, but a week of sleep was a week of sleep.

Quirrel moved on to picking books off his shelves for her, in a display of generosity that nearly had her dropping the potions. Her first primer was going to be 'Obscuring the Oculus,' used to gain a basic understanding of what Occlumency was and how it was meant to work. The theory and context behind what she'd be learning.

She'd just cracked the spine when there was another loud pop. Both of them started, Harry nearly dropping the book, Quirrel spinning, hand twisting like he was about to rip the air.

"Professor Quirrel, sir." A house elf had appeared in the office. Not the same as before- this one was male to the other's female, and this one wore a small sauce-pan like a hat. "Headymaster Dumbledore is callings a staff meeting."

Quirrel adjusted, face sliding into the vaguely confused expression he seemed to wear around others. "W-when?"

"Eight o'clocks, sir."

All three of the occupants in the parlour turned to look at the clock above the mantle. The meeting was barely a quarter hour away.

"I w-will b-be there shortly," Quirrel said. "W-were there any documents the h-headmaster n-needed?"

The elf shook his head, ears flopping. "Just a meetings, sir."

"V-very good. J-just one more thing, elf." Quirrel's wand was in his hand, but Harry hadn't seen him draw it. "Obliviate."

The elf stuttered to a halt, large eyes drooping. Quirrel waved a hand at Harry, who after a moment of confusion, scurried into the elf's blindspot. The professor stared into its face for a moment, lips moving soundlessly, and then he snapped his fingers.

"Elf, I said you were d-dismissed. S-stop dallying."

The creature startled, blinking rapidly. "Sorry, sir." He bowed, and then without rising, vanished into the ether.

"What was that about? Should I not be here?" Harry said, still off-guard by the whole thing.

Hapless Professor Quirrel sloughed away like old skin. His wand was still in hand, polished wood rolling between ivory fingers."It would be for the best if your lessons with me, and your apprenticeship are kept as secret as possible. If anyone asks in the future about our meetings, you had questions about dark creatures and I've been helping you with some independent research."

"I wasn't planning on telling anyone."
Harry paused, frowning as she thought about it. "Is Occlumency illegal?"

He smirked. "Not as illegal as what Severus did to you. He's lucky that Dumbledore will probably cover it up. But Occlumency says that you have secrets to hide. It invites observation. As for the realm of illegality… removing the Trace is for sure. Bonding Nagini is in a gray area unless they've banned it since last I checked. And we're not going to be drawing lines in your teachings between legal and illegal, light or dark. Magic is magic, Harry."

She shrugged, not really sure what to say. She didn't know enough magic to even really say what illegal magic or dark magic would look like.

But Quirrel was turning away, muttering to himself as he gathered paperwork. "I need to attend that meeting. You are free to go on your way, though I'd suggest resting. When I return, we can begin your first lesson."

"We could meet again at noon?"
she suggested.

"I was going to say before dinner." He pointed to the breakfast tray. "Take some of that with you; use the Dreamless Sleep if you need it. Bonding a familiar is demanding, and I don't want you fatigued."

She nodded, trying to hide her frown as she began picking over the food.

Quirrel disappeared into his rooms for a few minutes before reemerging, now in robes and turban, his face holding a bit more color. Harry, who hadn't managed to do more than nibble, hurriedly began piling things onto a plate.

"Sorry, sir, I can go. I didn't mean to hold you up."

That earned her another flat look. There was something in the edges of this one that she didn't quite understand. "Finish your meal. I'll not have you going hungry." He turned, robes billowing, and strode to the door.

"If you decide to leave the office, close the door behind you and lock it. The password is 'Nahash.'" Quirrel paused, glancing over his shoulder at her. "And don't enter my chambers. I haven't keyed you into the wards yet."

"Yes, sir."
Harry set down her glass of pumpkin juice. Gulped. "Goodbye, sir."

"Goodbye, Harry."


XXX

She was just beginning to choke down a rasher when something caught her attention.

A faint tapping, just at the edge of hearing.

Harry stood, head cocked.

Tap tap tap

Not in the parlour.

She tiptoed to the door of Quirrel's office. Waited.

The sound came again, a bit louder.

Harry opened the door. The sun had risen enough that the office had a bit more light, though the windows were still rimed with frost. Something shifted on the sill outside the nearest one, and Harry drew back in surprise.

A pale owl sat on the sill, a letter in its beak. As she stared, the bird pecked the glass once more.

Harry hustled over and opened the window, wincing at the rush of winter air after the warmth of the parlour. The owl hopped in, fluttering awkwardly, and to her surprise, dropped the letter at Harry's feet. It hooted, and then turned and departed with a rustle of feathers.

Harry, frowning, bent to pick up the envelope. Was the owl that lazy that it just shunted the letter off on the first person it saw? It was Quirrel's office, so it was probably his letter, after all. Perhaps some staff correspondence not urgent enough for a house elf.

Her frown deepened.

The name written on the outside of the parchment was her own.

Her birth name.

XXX

XXX

Holy JESUS, this one was an ordeal. Imagine all my anxiety over the previous chapter, amplified. This one needed to be absolutely perfect because it's so vital, and it's still not quite there. However, I'm incredibly tired of beating this thing to death and letting the story stall, so here we go.

Expect possible edits if someone points out something I've missed, because this is one of those things where it's been rewritten so many times I can't see the forest for the trees anymore.

So… yes and no, it did take me this long to write the chapter, but part of that was just not writing much of anything at all- I was gaming heavily, and sometimes hobbies shift priority, you know? The vast majority of this was complete some time ago, and was gradually refined over hundreds of pages of rewrites into what it is now.

Sorry for the length- it was meant to be equivalent to what came before it, but this section demanded all my time thus far, and what came after hasn't had very much attention at all in comparison, so it's not ready. The next chapter will NOT be as long in coming- this chapter, a sort of spiritual turning point in the story, was very, very important to get absolutely right for me, and now that we're over the hump, things are going to be smoother. I already have the majority of what was the rest of the chapter written, so I'm very optimistic there.

...if you're wondering what ate up so much of my time on gaming, blame Monster Hunter, Dragon Age, Binding of Isaac, Etrian Odyssey, and Dark Souls, in that order. For whatever reason, I have an insatiable appetite of games that are obscenely long and difficult.
 
Keep the Flame Alive (Dark Souls)
Keep the Flame Alive

1

The flame is.

Anastacia of Astora has stared into the depths of the fire long enough to etch the flickering, rising and falling pattern into the backs of her eyes.

When it grows too high, she takes branches away. When it withers, she feeds brush into it. Where this brush comes from, that she does not move from her spot at fireside to gather it, does not matter.

The flame is.

She feeds it, quells it, time falling away around her. The ash has long since painted her skin and dress and hair gray, and she wonders sometimes if even her breath will turn ashy, puffing little clouds like it does in the winter. The smell of old char and woodsmoke stains her, follows her stumbling, limping steps.

Those steps are few. She is alone much of the time, and is thus safe. When others come, never men and women, but undead, all of them, she lurches back down to her cell, slipping through cracks in the mountainside that only she knows.

The bonfire is still close here. Directly overhead, sword thrusting down into the earth like to pierce the top of her skull.

Her cell is dark and quiet and cold, like dying after being so near the flame for so long. Though she will not die. The humanity that roils beneath her skin, the infinite life that comes from being one with the flame. She could no more go out than the ocean could go dry.

XXX

Time passes.

The flame is.

She is.

She kindles and smothers, nursing the flame to a steady burn.

And one day, an undead comes to visit her.

This is not unusual. There have been others. Even an uncommon event will become common in an unending stretch of time. She has nothing to offer them. No advice. No tools or trinkets to aid their journey. If they want those, there are merchants, or she has heard there are, lurking above the shrine in the burg.

This one is hollow, its flesh the same sickly, rotten pink as all its fellows. But this one knows it. It sees her look, and the gnarled scrap of a hand vanishes into the folds of a sleeve. The rest of the hollow is similarly shrouded, garbed in loose, concealing robes and hood.

The act is enough for Anastacia to look again. Hollows are as many as birds in the sky, though she can't recall the last time one was self-aware enough to know shame. Most, when they reached the point of desiccation, were already lost to sense.

"H-hello." The word is rasped, the tongue speaking it long unused. A woman's. "I am Ragnhild."

Anastacia nods back. And then, forestalling any chance of confusion, points to her throat and crosses her hands in an 'X.'

Ragnhild's cowled head tilts for a moment, and then she steps forward, nearly pressing against the bars. "You do not speak?"

Anastacia shakes her head. This is the point where every other conversation has trailed off or gone silent, but from the set of her shoulders, the thoughtful tap of a finger against the opposite elbow, Ragnhild seems more intrigued than anything.

"Are you trapped in there? The man above- the surly one, you know him? He said you tend the bonfire."

Nod.

"Yes as to mean you are trapped, or yes to mean you tend the fire?"

She can't stop the sigh that escapes her. Her solitude has been all-encompassing for so, so long, and this interloper can't seem to take a hint.

Anastacia holds up two fingers.

"So you tend the fire." Ragnhild nods, sounding very satisfied with this answer. Her voice has smoothed slightly, gaining momentum the more she talks. "Perhaps you can aid me then? My journey here was… not entirely voluntary, and I find myself adrift. There are… bells, I've been told. I believe I'm to ring them. I'd have asked the man above, but he is poor company."

Anastacia finds herself rigid against the wall of her cell, suddenly staring indecorously at the woman.

A Chosen Undead. It has been so long since the last. There are always undead, and some seek the cure, but so few walk the proper stations.

She rises, limps over to the bars. Her breath hisses between her teeth, quick little puffs in her excitement.

Ragnhild stays silent as Anastacia points.

Once, downward, to the stairs leading below. Blighttown is far, far from her shrine, but she knows there is a bell there. And then again, to the church on the mount, high, high above.

She only stops her efforts when Ragnhild is able to adequately confirm that she understands the directions.

When the Chosen Undead finally walks away to begin her journey- begin the journey, Anastacia bows.

When Ragnhild turns back, she is still bowing.

"Vestal." Anastacia rises. "Would it be a burden were I to visit you, now and again? This region is very strange, and my sense of direction has always been lacking."

Anastacia finds herself nodding.

XXX

She does not see Ragnhild again for several days. The span of time is normally insignificant, the length of a few burnings and kindlings, the fire bright in dusk, but still just the sky changing shades as it always has.

But the disruption in her routine, her monotony, brings a mindfulness she doesn't enjoy. A sudden flicker of wonder, where the woman would be now. She hadn't made it to the bell yet- there has been no rolling peel to signal the world that change had come. No indicator that this was truly the undead of legend.

Anastacia burns her fingers three times the first day, and worries a hole in her dress with absent picking on the fourth. The crackle and pop of wood burning, the gentle rush of flame in air, do not ease her cares as they once did. She is distracted.

When someone finally draws near, they come with a clatter, the sound of metal armor rattling. Anastacia flees back to her cell, heart throbbing. The guest had caught her day-dreaming, the sound of boot on stone nearly upon her before she withdrew from her reverie.

The steps rattle and clank across the pavilion, and Anastacia sighs with relief as they stop above.

There is a rush of warmth, the flow beneath her skin surging, some slipping away as the visitor fills their flasks with ambrosia. A pause, the undead resting a moment before beginning to feed souls into the flame. Most of the souls come back to her and rejoin the first flame. Some stay with the undead, an aggregate, the soul greater than the sum of its parts. It is a process of tempering. The undead's soul strengthened and tuned, a fire fed on the lives of others.

A cycle without end. Souls never truly created or destroyed; just reshaped or divided or fused. Anything she lost would be regained in time.

There is silence and stillness after that. She has just enough awareness of the area around the bonfire to know that the visitor is lingering, likely resting or just enjoying the fire.

And then the steps begin again.

Coming down the staircase toward her. Anastacia stiffens, head cocked to listen. The steps are confident, moving steadily down the path.

Another visitor so soon? Or perhaps the woman- Ragnhild had brought trouble in her wake?

Clank. Clank. Clunk. Like a pocket full of coins, jingling away.

A silhouette fills the barred window of her cell.

"Vestal."

A familiar, rough-coated voice. The garb is different now. A chainmail hauberk and hood over leather trousers. Worn boots, too big for her, with what look to be rags stuffed inside to keep them tight. A small, dented buckler, and a sword, long and thin, a duelist's rapier.

Anastacia's gaze rises, unbidden. A tiny gasp escapes her.

A hooked, aristocratic nose cuts down the center of a face sharp enough to crack stone. Angled cheek-bones and pointed chin. A few strands of blonde hair escaping from beneath the chain hood. Ash-gray eyes.

The first human face she has seen in a long while.

Ragnhild sees her looking, and a flush appears in her cheeks, revealing freckles dappled all across them. "I- twas unseemly to appear before you as a hollow."

She shifts, boots scuffing, face turned away.

Anastacia crawls forward. Not close enough to reach, but near enough that were they able, they could converse comfortably. She taps on the bars to catch Ragnhild's attention, but the other woman has already turned back to her.

"I'm not troubling you?"

A vehement head-shake. She's finding herself frustrated for the first time in a very long time that she hadn't had a chance to learn hand signs before her silencing. That there could be grounds for misunderstanding here, that the woman might confuse her surprise for rudeness. These things are unforgivable.

After another moment of hemming, Ragnhild sinks to the cobbles in front of the cell, folding her legs under her. A moment later, she adjusts, shifting onto a patch of dirt just beside the stone for a softer seat. The chainmail pools around her knees like an odd dress.

"It's heavy," Ragnhild murmurs, tugging at it. "I'd never worn armor before I came to this land."

Anastacia gives an exaggerated tilt of the head, her version of a query. Pantomime is so crude, but it's the only option she has.

"I traveled from Balder. It is- it was a lovely nation. Not as mountainous as here, but with naught but forests and hills for leagues. And our horses were legendary. Have you-?" Ragnhild trails off, asking a question with her silence.

Nod. Anastacia taps her ear. I have heard of it.

"Is Lordran your homeland?"

Shake.

Ragnhild's eyebrows rise. "You're not of Balder. Are you perhaps from..." What follows is a flurry of names at Anastacia. Names of places and regions. Some she knows, some she does not. She answers in the negative to each, but is fortunate enough that Ragnhild names Astora on her seventh try.

Ragnhild's face lights up when Anastacia nods. "I see! I traveled to Astora once with my father on business. The capital is a treasure. Were you ever fortunate enough to see the Astoran Guard?"

Head-shake. It takes a moment of thought before Anastacia mimes at herself, then presses her hand flat against the air beside her, like she is patting a child's head. Then she motions to the cell around her.

"You were… little when you came here?"

A tilting, wavering hand-motion.

"Somewhat?"

Nod. Anastacia rewards Ragnhild with a smile for her patience before flashing her fingers. All of them once, then two. Twelve. Just a gangly, stripling child, third daughter of three. With no dowry to her name, she'd been destined for apprenticeship. But her soul had opened itself to the Flame. Or had it been the opposite? And her fate was sealed.

The moment, Ragnhild studying her, lingers slightly too long for comfort,. Anastacia finally points to the other woman and motions questioningly.

"Ah. Well… If you haven't seen them. The Astoran Guard are elite soldiers, the king's swords. We got to see them march down the center of the city, all in formation." Ragnhild's eyes are far-away, her tone softening into memory. "They were… practical. Not as flashy as some knights I've seen, but no troupe of barbarians either."

The wistfulness tickles something at the back of Anastacia's mind. She points again, this time at Ragnhild's sword, following it with a head-tilt.

"Was I a knight?"

Nod.

That earns her a soft laugh. "Oh, no. Recall, I'd never worn armor before I came to Lordran. It is… rather a childish impulse, I know, but this armor was for sale, and I just thought that maybe… Maybe I could try being like a knight?"

Ragnhild pauses, eyeing her again, seeming to search for something, but Anastacia has allowed herself to press against the bars, one dirty cheek pressed to cold iron.

The carry on motion she makes with her hand is sharp and quick with curiosity.

The other woman relaxes. Minutely, a softening around the eyes, in the arch of her neck.

"My family were wealthy. Not terribly so, but enough that, when I was young, I entertained fantasies that if we became rich enough, I could become a knight." Ragnhild sighs. "I was rather a tomboy at that age, always dreaming of silly, quixotic things. My father used to jest that I gathered more wool than any sheep shearer."

Anastacia snickers softly. It's been so long since she has made the noise that it escapes her before she even realizes it is coming.

But Ragnhild smiles, one side of her lips quirking. "I grew out of it. Or… I imagined I had. But here we are… in a far-off land, with none who would know my face, and..." Raghnhild drops her gaze, the words faltering, but Anastacia knows what she wants to say.

A silly, self-serving urge. Something done precisely because it eases the pain and soothes wounds. Some of the hollows in the past have done something similar. But it helps them. Anything to ground, to hold back the gnawing oblivion that threatens all hollows. Ragnhild has done it because it helped.

And there have been days where even Anastacia has played at sword-fighting with the bonfire blade, not a maiden, but a warrior who rescues maidens. Not crippled or weak, but a fighter. Someone who wasn't alone in a desolate land, far from home.

At least she had chosen to come here. Ragnhild had not.

She nods slowly, solemnly.

XXX

Raghnild talks of other, more pleasant things after that. Her explorations into the burg. The endless swarm of other hollows. A red drake glimpsed in the distance. Knights. True ones at one time, now corrupt sentinels lurking in the dark. One even that Anastacia remembers: A giant of a man in armor that weighed more than the both of them together, toting a club of bone.

Ragnhild does not mention her deaths. Though there is no question there have been many. The flickering emptiness, a bleakness in Ragnhild's eyes when she trails off, staring at nothing. The twitch of a hand toward the blade at her side. She can taste the scent of another bonfire on the woman. Lesser than hers, echoing imitations of her own pale shadow of the First Flame, but bonfires all the same.

But some of the hollowness has gone out of her gaze when Ragnhild runs out of topics to speak on. She rises, forcing herself not to linger any longer, though Anastacia catches the way the woman's eyes hesitate, her fingers shaking minutely, constantly.

"There's a demon. A bull creature up on the battlements. I- I think I've a chance at besting him this time."

Anastacia nods. The motion is not enough. Because she suddenly understands that playing at knighthood isn't the only selfish decision Ragnhild has made lately. That perhaps this reprieve is all that has staved off hollowment.

It is not enough.

Ragnhild turns away once again.

Anastacia bangs her knuckles on the bars. It hurts, but she has no nails to tap with- long since melted away.

The would-be knight turns back.

She crooks a finger at her through the bars. Points up. Not at the burg or parish, but straight up.

To the bonfire.

It takes a thought. An exertion of humanity. Something she's never done before, not deliberately, but knows now that she must. Not just as firekeeper, but as a human. So that this woman would live another day.

She kindles the flame. The sound of crackling heat comes from above, wood snapping, a sudden plume of smoke rising.

Ragnhild's eyes are wide beneath her tawny bangs. "Vestal. You-" Her voice hitches. She glances up. Then back. "Thank you. And-" Her fist tightens. "I'm going to return with its head in hand, and then tell you all about the battle."

A real smile, not the worn, patched one from before, but a ray of blessed sun breaking through clouds.

Ragnhilds turns on her heel, one hand on her sword hilt.

Looks back over her shoulder. Grins.

"My friends call me 'Rags.' When I come back, I'll bring parchment, and you can tell me what yours call you."

The pure cheek of it is enough to make Anastacia wilt against the bars.

The other woman might be feigning knighthood, but she is certainly an expert at being a scoundrel.

XXX

It's nearly a week before Ragnhild- Rags reappears. Anastacia is napping, dozing in her cell during a rainy day. Her sleep is fitful, the bonfire above could never be quenched by rain, but that doesn't mean she enjoys it.

The rush of life cycling through her wakes her. Someone using the bonfire.

There is a moment of waking confusion, then a hope she finds rather shameful. The shame redoubles when familiar footsteps make their way down the cliff to her.

Rags appears. She wears the same armor as before, and Anastacia is about to pronounce her the same overall, when she catches sight of the blade at her waist.

Straight as an arrow, long enough that Rags rests a hand on the hilt to keep it from dragging in the earth.

"From the parish," Rags says with a smile. She draws the blade a hand's width from its scabbard. "A sword of Balder. I never imagined I'd see its like here."

Head-tilt. She'd made it to the parish?

Anastacia motions for more information.

"You're asking about the sword?"

Head-shake.

"The parish?"

Nod.

"Oh. I'd intended to keep this brief, but…" Rags folds her legs under her and sits before the cell.

She begins with her triumph over the taurus she had mentioned last time. Anastacia has heard its bellows on the air before, and could only speculate as to the size of the beast, but it's woefully daunting to hear tell of Ragnhild plunging off battlements to stab at it.

The woman has much more to talk of this time. An undead blacksmith, of all things, had set up shop at the bridge to Sen's Keep. Rags met an… onion man? Oh, no, an onion knight. Anastacia has seen them before. Rags grumbles about the fortress, and Anastacia interrupts to gesture in the direction of the two bells, before miming ringing them.

"The gate opens then?"

Nod in reply. The testing ground of the gods opens only to the worthy.

"What a strange design."

Anastacia has wondered on what lies within before, but this is the first time she's ever truly desired to know. To grant foresight to the other woman, some form of aid beyond tending the fire. If nothing else, to ease her deaths.

Rags frowns, lost in thought for a moment before a small smile replaces it. "Have I told you of the other knight I encountered? Sir Solaire of Astora."

Anastacia gasps. Rags looks at her. They exchange a glance, and then they're both thrusting arms into the air, Rags on her feet, Anastacia rising to her knees.

"Praise the sun!" Rags yells.

Anastacia mouths the words.

They've both begun laughing, though she's not sure when. She has one grubby hand over her mouth, the other clutching the bars for support, raspy breaths whistling through her fingers.

"I would-" Rags wheezes, words escaping between laughs, "assume you have made his acquaintance before?"

Anastacia responds with a soft smile. The stories she could tell. Solaire had been part of her escort when first coming to Lordran. He'd ridden with her party all the way to the border, and his cheerful words and sunny demeanor had lightened her steps immeasurably.

She had not known he had come to Lordran, but that he is well and hale eases a weight in her breast that she hadn't realized was there.

It is several moments before their laughter subsides and the conversation returns to its normal flow.

Rags begins to sit, only to stop. "I brought you a gift. A pittance, but mayhap it will make the view-" A shrug toward the vast valley beyond the cell. "A bit more pleasant."

She fishes in her bag, items within clinking and clacking, before withdrawing an odd set of tubes. The item is maybe as long as her hand, two black leather tubes running parallel, attached with copper bandings.

"Binoculars." Rags holds them out, and Anastacia, catching the glint of glass, scrubs her palms on her dress before taking them with utmost care. "They're a looking device. How such a rich tool came to be lost here, I know not."

Anastacia lifts the looking glasses to her face. Squints. Both eyes at once, but- she tries it, recoiling instantly at the blur of colors that jumps out at her.

Rags chuckles. "Careful now… ah. You..." She winces, brow furrowing. "I was so enamored with those that I forgot to bring ink and paper. My third time darkening your door, and I still act the churl."

Anastacia motions carefully, waving the words away. She cannot be too airy or dismissive with her gestures, not when she could give offense where none is meant.

After all, firekeepers did not need names. They had their duty, and the first flame did not require such earthly things as names.

She thinks this. She knows this. The truth of it curls around her bones, hotter than blood, smoother than oil.

But she finds herself setting the binoculars aside and bending forward. There is a small patch of soft dirt outside the bars to her cell, not like the hard-packed soil within.

Slowly, dragging a finger through the dirt, Anastacia writes. Ragnhild goes utterly silent as she works, sliding back to allow her more room.

The first word she ever learned to spell at her mother's knee.

A name that has not been spoken to her for so long that she finds herself doubting the spelling, second-guessing herself.

Rags mouths each letter as it is scratched out. When Anastacia finishes, she sits back, disobedient hands retreating to her lap to seize handfuls of her skirt.

The other woman mouths it once more, then murmurs it aloud. She pronounces it wrong, a hardness on the 'c' that is echoed in Rags' other words, a consequence of a Balderan accent.

Anastacia points to the letter in question, then makes a flowing motion with her hand.

"Oh." Ragnhild looks up. She's smiling again. "Anastacia."

Spoken in Rags' gentle voice, the word is poetry. An enunciation with the same care and wonder that Anastacia had given the names of gods when she had tongue to pray with. Her heart lurches, humanity trembling her ribs with a sudden surge.

She wishes she had given her name sooner.

The word makes her feel human again.

XXX

XXX

I'm rather meh about the summary of this story. If you can think of a better one, let me know.
 
Dogpile (Borderlands)
Dogpile

Fun fact: No one knew how many types of skag there were.

Not the elemental variations that seemed to crawl outta the woodwork, but the actual various species of Pandoran Skag. According to the Pandora wiki, Pandorum Skaggat referred to every single goddamn skag, from the tiniest pup to the mighty Skagzilla herself.

I was using my half-hour with the ECHO to research the grimy little bastards, and, as it turned out, there was a reason nobody had bothered to go further.

Nobody gave a fuck.

Pandorans as a whole, hated skags. Like, a lot. They were above even varkids on the hate-o-meter, and only the finest ass-hair below those fucking Claptraps. Skags fell into a number of broad categories: too dangerous, too disgusting, not valuable enough, smell like shit, not cute – that made them utterly unpalatable to researchers. Vault Hunters hated them for being generally obnoxious goblins. Bandits loathed them for being scavengers and a constant danger in the borderlands.

Even Hyperion, source of the giant eyesore of the skies, hated skags. I'd heard rumors that half those planet-shaking laser blasts from Helios were really just an excuse to obliterate Pandoran wildlife.

They-

"Bitch! Hurry the fuck up, I'm at half-mast out here, and the ECHO better be porn-tastic when I get in there."

...and now my train of thought just hit a truck full of distraction, splattering tiny thought-bandits over six miles of track and painting the wasteland with their bandit guts.

I stumbled up from the ECHO terminal just in time for Tusk to shove the door open. Creepy bastard had a bottle of lotion under one arm, and the other already angling towards his pants.

I still had three minutes on my turn, but there was something to be said about not having to see someone's dick before noon. The battle not fought and all that shit.

Tusk was laughing his scrawny ass off even as I slammed the door behind me.

The Pandoran sun was enough to stagger me, the heat like a punch in the face after the chill inside the terminal room. Our camp was clustered around one of the massive pipeworks that ran across the planet's surface. This one carried water. It kept the surface of the pipe cool, even when the sun was hot enough to boil eyes on a flat rock.

All of our shacks were up on stilts, jammed right up against the pipe. Only way to manage the heat out here. Actually… speaking of which-

"Kurgan, get out the sun, man!" I yelled.

The psycho was standing on top of the pipe. It was hard to see him through the glare, but nobody else was crazy enough to bake themselves like that. He moved, his mask turning to face me.

I waved. Kurgan waved back. Then pointed up, jabbing a finger at the sun.

"The widening eye is glad today!" he shouted.

Every patch of exposed skin- basically everything above the waist but his face, was sunburnt to a shiny, painful, lobster-red. How was he not dead yet? Or insane from sun poisoning? I'd had it before. The itching was enough to drive you bugfuck.

"You got any water?"

Kurgan tugged a canteen out of the waistband of his baggy pants. "Without water, I have no blood!"

He wasn't wrong. I shrugged and kept walking. Psychos were called that for a reason. The ones like Kurgan, who lived long enough to have more scars than skin, had the Devil's own luck. He'd probably fry until he passed out, or until the sun went down, whichever came first. I didn't really have any expectation this would kill him.

Metal sheets bridged the wobbly platforms that supported our camp. I navigated across to the next section. Lucas was patrolling, head bowed under a wide-brimmed hat.

"Yo."

He nodded back to me. "Dogpile."

"See anything?"

"Nothing. A couple rakks flew by earlier, but they kept going. Nothing else though."

"Ah."

Conversation died pretty quickly when one of the people was a bandit named Lucas. Still had no idea what his issue was, or why he hadn't picked a cooler name. Not like my parents had named me Dogpile when I popped out.

I shuffled away after a few, awkward moments of us staring at each other.

Lucas started his patrol again, and I continued on toward my shack. My little hut was crammed between two others. The bread to my sandwich meat had been nomads, once upon a time, but one had gotten eaten by a spiderant, and the other had gotten mysteriously shot in the face after he wouldn't stop doing rhythm gymnastics after midnight. Now they were both empty. Nobody had really wanted to move in, and I didn't really have anything to fill them with.

Unlike most of the scrap metal boxes that the rest of the tribe lived in, my hut was only mostly scrap metal. It had been a storage room for some kind of pumping equipment at some point, but by the time we showed up, it had been inactive and obsolete. I'd scrapped most of the clunkier shit, and the rest was… cozy, in a metal cube full of other metal objects sort of way.

I tugged open the door and breathed deeply, taking in the thick, musky scent of my hut.

"Who missed me?"

Apparently no one, because the three mongrel skags sitting on my bed didn't even get up. Didn't hurt my feelings more than a lot.

"Fuck you too, guys."

I ditched my gear and slammed the door, turning the wheel to lock it. Worf scooted a bit to the side on the bed as I approached, but Murderface was flat on her back on my pillow, and snarled at me when I nudged her.

"Move. It's mine."

Rat was dutifully imitating her boss now by snarling at me. I bared my teeth right back at her. Weedy little brat. Thought she might be a spitter. She ever grew into that, she might have more pull, but for now, she was a runt.

"My. Bed."

She pussed out almost immediately, but Murderface wasn't budging.

"Fine."

I sacked out right in the middle of the mattress, using the alpha bitch as a pillow. Murderface complained for a moment, but only until I started rubbing her belly with the back of my head.

It probably looked as stupid as it sounds, and there was a reason I didn't let the other bandits see this shit. But they didn't know skags.

There were things I couldn't get by running with the pack. ECHO. Toilet paper. Food that skags hadn't regurgitated.

But those things were few and far between. And none of them quite measured up to that quiet moment where Murderface decided she'd bitched enough, Rat got tired of whining, and Worf just got tired, and they all flopped into place. Two heads on my chest, and my own bumpy noggin smack dab in the center of a shaggy skag belly.

Every breath Murderface took lifted my skull a bit, but I could hear her hearts. Skags had a couple. Hadn't figured out how many yet, and it was one of those topics researchers didn't give a fuck about.

I wasn't a scientist. My parents had been some kinda tech-people from when Atlas first came to Pandora, but they were both long dead. Still wasn't quite sure what they'd made their living doing. But I had to get this curiosity from somewhere, I guess.

Maybe next time we went hunting, we could run down a wild skag and see what made it tick. My pack wouldn't mind. They didn't mind much of anything, long as they got fed and got to sleep in the bed at night.

Skags were pretty fucking-a that way. They were shitty, smelly, scavenging, cannibalistic, kinda rapey, ugly, and just plain ornery, but they're also honest.

Skags don't lie to ya.

Thoughts in that vein entertained me for a while, slowing as I neared sleep. Not much to do during the day on Pandora but sleep. Too hot for much else.

Someone banged on the door.

I rolled over and pressed a pillow over my head.

They banged again. Metal on metal. Loud and obnoxious.

"Dogpile! Hey, Dogpile!"

"Sod off!"

More banging. "Convoy's comin!"

I sat up.

The pack were looking at me.

"Fuck the hell yes! We hunt!" I howled.

I rolled out of bed, and the skags came with me, gamboling around the room while I grabbed my shit.

Mask on. No self-respecting bandit would be seen without one. Mine was a half-job. Went over my chin and mouth, the outside metal molded into jagged fangs. I finished it off with a pair of goggles. Hit a dust cloud at 160mph without em? Say goodbye to your eyes. Pandoran dust was a-fucking-brasive.

Bag loaded. Full of misc supplies and stuff. Mostly just emergency kits and rations in case of the worst. Hadn't needed them yet, but eh, whatever. Most important was the disc hanging from the strap. I unclipped it and held it out to Murderface.

"C'mere and get your stuff."

She knew this routine by now. I dunno if she really understood it, but she knew it all the same. Murderface padded over and I strapped the shield onto her flank. A tap, and it activated, a second skin of blue light flashing over her for an instant.

Worf and Rat had armor as well, but theirs was more mundane. Each got a coat of scrap metal, all jags and spikes, angled to protect their vitals, leave their mouths open, and allow them full mobility. Sounds more complicated than it really was. Basically just meant their top half was armored. I'd like to get them all shields, but the tribe wasn't exactly rich, and if we didn't scavenge it, we didn't have it.

Maybe some day.

I grinned. Maybe today.

My own vest was padded and armored a lot like the two smaller skags, but I'd get most of Murderface's shield as long as I was riding her. The plates would catch stray bullets, but I wasn't worried. As long as we kept moving, this would be fine. Convoys never had enough gunslingers to put up much of a fight.

My gun went on a strap around my back. Basic bandit-made pistol. I wasn't a fan of it, personally. It jammed a lot, and the gunpowder smell made the skags sneeze.

My weapon was a little more… us. The boomsticks were propped in a corner, waiting for me.

I took one in hand, and stuck two more in my belt holster.

There was shouting and banging from outside as the troupe geared up, and it was time we joined them.

"Let's ride!" I yanked open the door and we burst out.

The skags were already barking wildly, heads raised to scent for prey. I ignored them and ran to the railing. Other tribe members were gathered there already, more joining us by the second.

Lucas was there, checking his gun and gear with a quick pat-down.

"Convoy?" I asked.

He pointed.

Our camp sat against the pipeworks, but the area we were at was on a rise. We had an unrestricted view for miles to the west. And far off, growing nearer by the second, was a dust cloud.

One plume usually meant a buggie or a single traveler. Probably a vault hunter or some kinda scientist. Not usually worth the effort of going after. But there were multiple plumes today. A group, traveling together. A convoy.

Coulda been a rival tribe, but it was doubtful. Like, really doubtful. We didn't have any shit worth another tribe mobilizing to come get.

But ten miles to the east of our camp was a town. Dollars to dead babies that the convoy was headed straight there. And the fastest way to town was through us. Any detours would add miles to their trip, and it was a long way from the last stop.

They'd risk it. They always risked it. And if they had a change of heart?

There was a roar of engines below as our five buggies came to life. The engines gunned and revved, exhausts sending out acrid, poisonous yellow smoke.

Our fuel came from another pipeline a couple miles away. We didn't have the refining process the cities did, so the stuff was caustic enough to eat through skin. That we had cars at all was a goddamn miracle.

The platform we were on rattled, reverberating from a sound louder than even the buggy engines.

I raised my fist in salute. Anyone around me paying attention was doing the same, save for the few psychos too fucked up to tell the difference.

The boss thudded toward us, his elephantine boots clanging on metal with each step. Dude was big. Like- I dunno if he had a pituitary disorder, or he got bit by a radioactive giant as a kid, but he was a nomad as big as a bullymong. Dude was big.

Oh, and his name was Skullfuck.

He earned it.

"What're all you grots standin round saluting at? Get out there and get the loot!"

Not a man of many words, Skullfuck. He didn't wait to see if we listened. Instead, he turned, walked straight off the platform and landed on the center buggy. There was a crash of breaking metal, and the engine squealed shrilly in protest, all while the unfortunate bastards caught underfoot were screaming.

The buggy looked like a go-cart underneath him, but dude just pulled his feet up, drew his guns, and slapped the driver on the back of the head. The driver floored it.

That was enough signal for the rest of us. We poured down the rickety stairs to the sand below, everybody swarming for a place on the buggies. The steel roll cages were already filling up, bandits clinging anywhere there weren't sawblades and spikes welded on.

I turned. The skags were standing uneasily at the base of the stairs, well away from any people.

"Cmon, you gonna run the whole way?"

I grabbed a hook on the back of the fourth buggy and hauled myself into the back. It was one of the ones with a truck bed, and jammed with other goons, but I started shoving the minute I got in.

"Clear the fuck up! Make some fucking space!"

One of the new guys, some weedy clown who didn't know the score, started to pull his pistol. "Shove me again, assho-"

I pointed. "Sic em."

Murderface's jaws closed around the back of his head. Her hooked fangs slid smoothly into his skull, and I had an unenviable view of his face as his brain ruptured. His jaw worked, eyes went wide, mouth opened, closed, and then poured blood. His eyes rolled back, his limbs spasming, flailing against the few dumb bastards who hadn't already scrambled away. And then Murderface jerked her neck and pulled away with a mouth full of oozing flesh.

Only then did he die.

I shoved him out of the buggy.

"Up!"

Murderface leapt up to replace him, her weight enough to rock the buggy on its axles. Worf and Rat joined us a moment later. It took a bit of jockeying among the skags and the bandits, but we finally found spots just as the buggy revved into action.

Arcs of sand kicked up behind us as the buggy went roaring out of camp. It was all downhill to the convoy, and I found myself standing, holding on to the back of the cab, howling and screaming with the others.

The other bandits, I mean. Nothing gets the blood pumping like a fight.

The skags were mostly quiet. Rat was licking the blood from Murderface's maw, and Worf had his head over the side of the bed, mouth opened happily to catch the breeze.

Ahead, a sudden burst of gunfire split the engine noise. Tracer rounds, and a handful of green corrosion shells flashed from the lead buggy towards the convoy. They were close enough to see clearly now.

Two cargo trucks, with four smaller escort buggies. The trucks were big and slow, but one had a heavy machinegun mounted on the top, and men hauling themselves out of a hatch to it. The escorts were more like our buggies. Smaller all-terrain vehicles with a central turret.

Two of the escorts moved forward to intercept. Their turrets opened up, spraying fire towards Skullfuck's car. Say what you will about him- I wouldn't recommend it. Dude is named that for a reason. But he just ducked his head and grabbed a nearby bandit to use as a human shield. Cool as a fucking cucumber.

Our second and third cars were near enough to join the fray now. They returned fire with sawblade launchers. The metal discs were slow, but they'd tear the shit out of the trucks if they landed, and all it took was one to take out a wheel.

The trucks didn't stop moving. Skullfuck's car was forced to veer aside from them, and our formation split. Two cars went with him. Ours and another went the opposite way. One of the buggies following Skullfuck was too slow, and the lead truck t-boned it. It had a cow-catcher type wedge of metal on the front, almost a dozer blade. The wedge split the buggy in two, an explosion ripping the sand a moment later, spraying shrapnel and body parts across the desert, not slowing the truck for a second.

The heavy turret on the back of the second truck was swiveling, tracking Skullfuck's group.

Our buggy was close enough now. The gunner announced it with a salvo of machinegun fire, peppering the first truck. The other bandits in the car lifted their guns. A barrage of mixed rounds went toward the truck. Most fell short, and it didn't look like any did anything to the thick armor.

Two of the escorts moved in to flank us and protect the convoy. Any semblance of order in our truck broke down. Everyone began firing at whatever caught their eye. Bullets went everywhere.

I ducked, pulling the skags to the floor of the bed with me.

Rat was whining.

"It's alright. Almost time." I straightened up and banged on the back window of the cab. "Get us closer to the truck!"

The driver gave me the finger, but she still jerked the wheel and slammed the buggy into the side of one of the escorts. The escort's turret fired wildly, but we were too close to hit. The bullets sailed uselessly overhead, even as bandits leapt aboard.

The escort driver took a buzzaxe to the face, the car slowing for a moment as they dumped his body. One of the psychos took the wheel, still waving his bloody axe, and gunned it. The escort rocketed forward and rammed another one in the rear.

And just like that, there was a hole in their formation.

Our driver closed the gap. We came up alongside the truck without a turret. Just as we got without boarding distance, a hatch in the side opened and a man leaned out. He had some beautiful fucking piece of Maliwan tech in his hands, and aimed it directly at us.

Fucking finally.

My boomstick was ready. I mashed the button and the pole unfolded. A telescoping spear shot out, the tip digistructing from nothingspace, just in time to gore into the convoy man's chest.

The tip of the spear was just a sharpened piece of metal attached to a fat cylinder, and the whole apparatus snapped off as the man staggered back into the hatch.

"Fire in the hole!" I screamed, ducking down.

The grenade attached to the speartip went off seconds later, gouting smoke and flame from the truck's hatches. The truck swerved wildly, the driver fighting against the rampant fires and explosions from his cargo bay.

I tapped the butt of the spear against the bed, and it digistructed a new one.

Fanciest fucking piece of equipment I owned, and it was basically just a grenade you stabbed people with.

Hell yes was I proud of it.

Almost as proud as I was of my pack.

"Jump!" I yelled at the skags, pointing at the truck. The sides were thickly armored, but it was plates and scrap metal, not unlike the way we armored shit. Which meant there were plenty of spots to grab on.

Murderface came to her feet. I pulled myself onto her back, seated on the flat carapace of her dorsal armor. Normal skags were probably only 80 or 90 pounds. Not enough for more than a kid to sit on. But Murderface was an alpha, and even now, not in her full growth yet, she was big enough to carry me without effort.

We led the charge. Murderface crouched and then sprang, clearing the eight feet between the truck and buggy with ease. I held on tight to her as she set her claws into the side of the truck and climbed. In seconds, we stood atop the truck, Murderface's claws kicking up sparks from the metal roof. Worf and Rat joined us a moment later, and I directed them to stand behind her, letting her take the brunt of the wind.

We forged forward.

A hatch opened ahead, and another tanker popped out. Either these dudes were transporting some serious Maliwan tech, or he'd grabbed the other guy's gun, because he had another fancy ass Maliwan SMG in hand.

The rata-tat-tat of SMG fire was almost lost in the wind, but the shots were clear. Superheated bullets, hot enough to catch fire in midair, splattered against Murderface's shield in a spray of napalm.

She bellowed in anger and charged. I ducked low, keeping my head down until we were in striking distance.

Other hatches opened up further up the trailer. More guards were emerging. Their covering fire was enough to stagger Murderface where she stood, and the other two skags were cowering behind her.

The Maliwan guy yelled something triumphant, still spraying fire rounds at us.

I hefted my boomstick and threw it.

He was still yelling when it pierced his throat. He gurgled, then toppled back down the hatch. The explosion that followed was a delightful cluster blast- dozens of smaller explosions marked the passage of bomblets it had thrown off.

The shaft portion of the spear reconstructed in my hand. Couldn't pick what grenades it made, but I wasn't complaining.

"Go!"

We advanced up the car, Murderface moving slowly but steadily, setting her claws into the metal with every step. Behind us, Rat and Worf dove down the first hatch. Screams echoed up in their wake.

I threw and reconstructed my boomstick twice more- missed the first, nailed another guard on the second.

There were more yells from the rear of the truck as other bandits leapt over to join us. A few made it. Others went spinning off into the dust or were ground under the wheels. The ones who did catch hold were launching themselves down the hatches like the two smaller skags had.

Eager bastards. Murderface was too big to fit down a turret hatch, and I wouldn't leave her. Besides, she had the only shield.

Another hatch popped open right beside us. Murderface took the poor fucker's face off, and he lived just long enough to scream before I glimpsed the other two latch hold of his legs.

There was blood spraying out of the side armor on the truck as the other bandits went to work with buzzaxes and small arms. The noises busting their way out of the hatches was ear-splitting. Gunfire in a giant tin can, mixed with rusty chainsaws.

But they were occupied with the small-fry.

I tapped Murderface's shoulder spike, and she charged toward the cab. The desert air was tearing through my scalp, whistling through holes in my mask. It tasted like death, but goddamn if I wasn't laughing my head off.

She landed on top of the cab hard enough to dent it. The goons inside answered with a hail of gunfire through the roof, and Murderface yelped with pain, stumbling suddenly as a round ripped off one of her toes.

I clenched my knees on her ribs. "Back! Steady, girl. Steady."

The alpha took a moment to respond, shaking her thorny head, but when I slapped her flank, she moved. We leapt back to the trailer just in time to avoid more fire.

She whined, maw oozing froth, trying to bend to see her wound.

"Stay." I patted her, then dismounted.

And nearly fell off the fucking truck. Because fuck me if scavenged boots didn't have the best tread. Murderface's bulk kept me from tumbling backwards, and she stopped licking her wounds to glance at me.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a retard, you don't have to tell me."

I retracted my boomstick and holstered it. Time for a little payback. I crept back up the trailer, nearly crawling, using both hands to clutch the roof.

There was a cacophony of banging from below- probably the other bandits trying to bust down the door to the cab. Stuff was so damn armored that they'd have better luck blasting down a bank vault. But they were yelling and hollering, and seemed to be enjoying it, so whatever.

When I reached the edge, the armored accordion coupling between the trailer and cab swerving below me, I stopped. Time to keep it simple.

Boomstick, prepare to meet windshield. It-

A deafening explosion echoed from off to the right. I turned, swearing, to see the other cargo truck go up in a fireball, taking the last guard buggy and another one of ours with it. Skullfuck, who seemed to have mounted the truck like I did, went spiraling off like a meteor. He landed way off, tumbled, then righted himself.

I could still hear the hardy cunt yelling even as the last car left him behind. We were down to two bandit buggies, and one stolen guard buggy, all of which were now converging on the truck.

Bullets whistled overhead, and I shot the finger back at whoever was pegging shots at me. Which dipshit couldn't tell a bandit from a caravaner? That's what the masks were fucking for.

That, and they looked cool.

Whatever. Time to get moving before someone stole my glory.

I grabbed a boomstick, not extending it, just letting the grenade and tip form. The blue light of digistruction faded, and I pitched it forward, a lazy underhand throw.

The grenade bounced once on the top of the cab, then rolled forward, dropping down to the windshield. A second later, it went off, not on the hood, but in the dirt off to the side.

Fuse was too long on that one. And I couldn't cook 'em, not when the grenades were randomly generated.

Another try then.

It generated a squat, squash of a bomb. Looked like a slow exploder.

I tossed it.

The stupid thing teleported in mid-air, reappeared five feet ahead, and then dropped neatly onto the hood, where it stuck, defying all physics.

Oh shit, this was gonna be fun.

I ducked and covered.

The truck shook as the grenade detonated. The windshields were armored with metal bars, but there was usually still glass behind them. Judging by the sudden, agonized screaming, the driver and shotgun had just found that out first-hand.

The vehicle swerved, beginning to curve off to the left. Either I'd just broken the steering, or the driver was face-down in the dashboard.

But just for good measure…

I hucked a couple more grenades onto the cab. Judging by the clunk, then a hollow thud from inside the cab, there was a very convenient hole in the windshield that it had just entered.

My next judgment was slightly less sound. Being point-blank to a grenade blowing the top and doors off the cab like a tin can. Smoke burst from every hole, and I staggered back, ears ringing, the world suddenly silent.

Oh, and my shirt was on fire.

My attempt to stop, drop, and not roll off the truck was stymied when Murderface slapped a paw into my back, then spat all over me. It quenched the flames, with the unfortunate side-effect of smelling like a dead body in a septic tank.

Still, not on fire. I grabbed a first-aid hypo from my bag.

Murderface got the first hit. She gave me one of those weird "the fuck you doin?' stares that most animals seem to know as her toe bubbled and regrew. I jammed the second one into my thigh. Took care of any burns handily. They weren't as serious as they could be, but infections on Pandora were a death sentence, and being covered in skag drool was a good way to get one.

Cleared up my hearing too.

"Who's my special girl?"

She licked the side of my mask. Peeled the paint a bit, but whatever.

Meanwhile, the truck was slowing down, the cab a flaming wreck, and the commotion from whatever shootout the boys had been having in the trailer had died out.

I kneeled down and stuck a head into one of the other hatches. The trailer interior was a disasterpiece. Half the lights were shot out. Boxes and crates were now pocked with bullets or shredded with buzzaxe marks. It-

I turned my head just in time to see Kurgan swinging a buzzaxe at me. The sun-dried asshole was somehow lucid enough to stop mid-swing.

"Fuck, Kurgan! Watch it."

The psycho grinned at me. I dunno how I knew, with him wearing a full-face mask, but fucked if I did. "Walking skag! Your beasts were first to the meat buffet."

He pointed. Worf and Rat both smiled happily up at me, drenched maw to tail in gore. Actually, now that I looked, the whole goddamn trailer was about an inch or two deep in blood. There were bits of the caravaners floating in it.

Two more psychos stumbled over, followed by a lumbering nomad.

"Hey. Blew up the cab, so the truck's gonna stop soon." Maybe a minute tops, so long as nobody's corpse fell on the accelerator. "You guys find any cool shit?"

Kurgan held up another garish Maliwan gun. "There are many fireworks in this hotdog."

Psycho A held up a human hand. Psycho B held up another human hand. They then made the hands high-five. Holy shit, how had I not talked to these rad bastards sooner?

The nomad grumbled a bit before picking up one of the crates. Just as Kurgan had said, it was filled with rows of Maliwan tech packed in foam.

My eyes went wide. "Any shields? I gotta get some fucking shields for the skags."

The truck finally lurched to a halt, and I grabbed the edge of the hatch so I didn't go spinning off. Murderface skidded a bit before she caught herself with her claws. I leaned back out to talk to her.

"Sit. Sit down. We're fine. Everyone's okay."

She plunked herself down in the center of the roof, claws still planted firmly in the metal.

Back to the gank squad in the trailer. "But seriously, any shields?"

Psycho B popped the top off another crate. And inside, a long, vertebral shape. Dozens of shields lined up and strapped in.

"I love you guys so damn much right now."

"Our love for you reciprocates with the burning intensity of a thousand melting babies!"

"I was talking to the skags, Kurgan!"

Outside, there was a crunch of tires on sand as the buggies began coming to a halt. I sat up and began to slide down the hatch. Possession was nine-tenths and all that. If I wanted shields, I was gonna need to lay claim now.

"Hey!" someone shrieked. One of the bandits outside had stopped, standing atop their buggy. They pointed out to the horizon. "Some shit's coming this way!"

A dust plume. Thin and tan, shot through with crimson from the clay in the soil.

But just one? Back-up for the caravan, or just some unlucky bastard?

The last of our buggies came grinding up, suspension dragging under the weight of a very battered Skullfuck.

"Boss, we got guests," shouty bandit said.

He turned his massive head. Pretty sure I could see skull through some of his roadrash. "Let em come. Then we'll git em. Easy shit."

From the mouths of babes.

Everyone outside started drawing weapons again.

I leaned down the hatch. "Another buggy's comin if you still wanna fight."

Psychos A and B exchanged a look, then hustled for the back of the trailer. They had the back gate popped and lowered before I could blink. Kurgan just shrugged and went back to making an ear necklace. The nomad sighed, and started unloading crates into the dirt.

I whistled to Rat and Worf. "Cmon. You two, to me."

They scrabbled their way up the hatch, Rat first, Worf on her heels. The pack reformed, centered around me. I kept a hand on Murderface, ready to mount if needed.

The dust trail grew larger. Light glinted off a windshield in the distance. And… off the hood. And doors. And roof. Not just glass, but the gleam of metal.

I squinted. "The fuck is that?" Looked like it was bright yellow or something. Like they were driving a giant beacon through the desert.

One of the bandits looked down her scope and screeched. "Gold! A mother-fucking gold-plated buggy."

What.

The trail stopped. The buggy came to a halt maybe a quarter-mile out. Tough to see through the heat haze, but I could see someone get out. They were... tall and thin. Dressed in bright, sky-blue. Might be dark-skinned, but my eyes weren't great.

Skullfuck grabbed the rollcage on the nearest car. "Plan's changed. Go git em." He heaved himself up, climbing into the vehicle. "Let's-"

His head blew apart.

A second later, the sound of a rifle shot split the silence.

"Sniper! Get-" Shouty bandit took a round to the throat and went down choking on their own blood.

I rolled off the top of the trailer. The skags leapt down behind me, and we ran for it. The trailer was jack-knifed slightly, at an angle to the cab, enough for us to shelter behind it, using the massive tires as shields.

The skags were whining, uneasy, not understanding.

"Stay. Stay. Down. Stay. Just- don't move. Stay with me."

Gunshots. Guys trying to shoot back at the sniper. Pointless. They were impossibly far away.

Return fire. The sharp crack of a rifle. Two. Three. Four times. Bodies hit the dirt.

One went down not far away, draped over the hood of a car.

Someone tried to dive into the stolen buggy. Shots punctured the front tire, then two more cut through the driver's seat. Blood painted the windshield. It painted, then froze, drying to a tacky scab color.

Cryo weapons. Didn't think any of those made it down from Elpis.

A bellow of pain as one of the nomads went down. He kept yelling, still alive. Other howls as men and women died, trying to run toward or from the shooter.

I stayed behind the tire, arms wrapped around the skags to keep them from running themselves.

A break in the gunfire. A deathly silence. I could hear my own heartbeat, rapid, scared fucking shitless. Things had shifted so rapidly that my thoughts kept going back to the shields, and I had to jerk them on course.

Sniper. Here. Now. Everyone was dying.

The nomad was still crying out, but weaker and weaker.

There were others sheltering like I was. Psycho A had B in his lap, holding a hand over B's gut wound. Tusk tried to run from his spot in a divot in the earth to join them, only to take a bullet. His knee blew out in a spray of red powder- frozen blood, and he dropped. Not dead- the wound had iced over. He managed to crawl another five feet before the sniper put one through the back of his head.

A hoarse yell in the distance. A gunshot. Kurgan died, and I could hear his buzzaxe sputter out.

B shuddered and went still. Psycho A sat there for a long moment. And then he stood up with his arms outstretched. The sniper clipped him. A purposeful miss. They took his finger off. His hand. His arm. Then shattered his mask with one neat hole through the forehead.

I had front-row seats to watch the tribe die.

People that I knew. Some by name. Meatjockey. Rampage. Turbomegabitch. Lucas.

Some by face. The scarred midget who kept our ECHO running. A psycho who was convinced the skags were alien spies, but fed them scraps all the same. Bandits I'd played poker with. Eaten with.

Men and women and other weird fucks, all of who I wouldn't piss on if they were on fire. They all died. And I fucking hated it. Not like this. We were all gonna die, but it wasn't supposed to be like this. Not like this.

Not-

The fat rubber of the tire burst behind me. Rat yelped.

"No!"

She gurgled. Fell over.

"NO!"

Crack. A bullet ricocheted off one of the armor plates and hit one of the few bandits still under cover.

Trick shots. They could have hit us any time. This was just a game to them.

Crack. Spang. Something warm and wet sprayed my face. Worf toppled.

Someone was screaming. I was screaming.

Something inside me broke.

"Run! Run!" I slapped Murderface's hide, dragging myself onto her back. Cranked her shield to full. "GO!"

She launched herself from cover. I kept low to her back, cutting down the wind resistance, urging her faster, forcing her to juke and jive with my knees, never running in a straight line.

The first round hit me in the back. The shield shattered with an electric screech. A line of searing cold dragged itself up one side of my ribs, the tattered edges of my vest held in place by frost.

"RUN! GOD DAMN YOU RUN!"

Murderface snarled, pushing her massive body to its limit. Sand kicked up in her wake like a buggy.

"YOU CAN DO IT! RUN!"

I was looking down, and in the adrenaline rush, I saw everything in slow-motion.

The bullet that killed her came in from an angle.

It entered through my right leg, just above the knee. The force of the shell ripped my leg in half. Red snow puffed, just like with Tusk. It parted Murderface's armor, passing neatly between two gaps in her plates, and exited her body on the other side in an arterial spray of murky skag blood.

Murderface went down like her strings had been cut.

We tumbled.

I hit first. I was still screaming. My leg was gone. I hit and rolled, rough sand tearing at my skin. Murderface came down on top of me.

We rolled together, rider and mount, spinning, spinning, spinning-



XXX



Jostling woke me.

The skags were probably fussing, wanting to eat.

Just… why had we gone to sleep in the sand? Too much cactus juice again.

And… there was pain, resurfacing, awful and oh so fucking real. Couldn't hardly breathe. Weight pressing down. Ribs smashed. Leg frozen, blown to hell. And-

Oh god. Oh god damn it.

She was on top of me. A giant hunk of dead flesh, already cooling.

No. No no no nononoNO

...

Footsteps. Lazy, taking their time. Boots crunching sand.

A shadow blocked out the sky.

I blinked away tears. My goggles had gotten ripped off at some point.

A brown-skinned woman in an elaborate clusterfuck of a blue dress coat stared down at me. She looked down her nose at me, skunk-striped hair twitching in the wind, and then looked on.

"Jenkins. I like the expression on this one's face. Get the head."

"Of course, madam."

She vanished, replaced by some Jeeves looking motherfucker. He had a knife in one hand, a bag in the other.

"Th-the fuck… you doing?" I wheezed.

He looked at me like she had. Like I was skag shit. A piece of shit that had learned to talk.

And then he started to work on Murderface's head with the knife.

I was screaming again. Writhing under her corpse. One arm was pinned, probably broke to shit, but I had one free. I grabbed for him.

Too far. Couldn't reach. Not even close. Something in my shoulder ripped under the force. Reaching. Clawing the air.

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

He didn't listen.

Just sawed off her head like she was some fucking trophy animal. Like she didn't howl when it rained. Or always wanted to lick your face to see what you'd eaten. Like it didn't matter how she always kept the other two in line, but was never a cunt about it. Or- or- or-

Jenkins bagged her head.

I went limp. The pain was nothing compared to this.

The woman in blue hefted her rifle. Even that was gaudy. Ivory and silver inlay, with what looked like an entire goddamn telescope for a sight.

She looked back at me. Her lips curled.

And then she walked away.

Only one thing kept me from screaming at her: sunlight glinting on her scope. The light reflected off Murderface's wrecked armor. The bullet hole, already ringed with flies. Her shield, burned out, broken in the fall. Dark blood dripping from the stump of her neck.

They'd ruined her.

The thought came slowly, but crystal-fucking-clear. Like the ice on my knee was spreading up my spine. Cold and clear.

They'd ruined her, but if I said anything else, the woman would blow my brains out.

I didn't care.

Not on my behalf any more.

But if I died here, there would be no one to track her down.

I had three lives to avenge.

XXX

XXX

Pure dreck. Much like my play-through of BL1, this fic stalled out halfway through last year. Unlike BL1, I mustered the energy to finish it after a Borderlands fic about a vault hunter with animal buddies by @AtrenGraves reminded me that this thing existed.

I just like beastmaster type characters. There's not much going on here, but it was fun to write something very actiony, with not much in the way of angst. At least until the end. The change in mood is a bit jarring, but the original concept was basically something in the vein of "skag-tamer bandit runs into player characters."

Dogpile is pretty flat as a character. Typical prefers animals to humans type. But their dialogue and narration was a lot of fun to write. Definitely nice to just break loose and do something irreverent and silly. "Bit by a radioactive giant as a kid" still makes me laugh. If was I was gonna continue the idea, I'd probably rework this, emphasize more their issues with others, insert some difficulties in interacting, or having trust issues or something. This was mostly action, so it didn't quite work out that way.


I really like this one! The limitations on their communication make for a wonderful dynamic, and I think you've done a really good job of capturing it thus far. We really do take language for granted, and I can just barely imagine how frustrating it is for Anastacia to find herself so restricted when she finally has someone she wants to communicate with.

A good portion of that was not wanting to offend. This is a character who had her tongue cut out for fear of blaspheming. She takes language and communication seriously as fuck. So to inadvertently offend Ragnhild would be awful, and to do it BECAUSE she has no tongue would be even worse. That's on top of the issues in desiring to communicate with someone else, but being impaired, deliberately or not, and being very lonely.

The frustration of "She can't misunderstand me because it's rude" is slowly turning into frustration of "I want her to understand me because I value our interactions."

Some parts of it did feel a little choppy to me, like the quote above, but that could very well have been your intent -- and if so, good! It breaks up the rhythm of the story, and that really can change the impact that a piece gives. I'm mostly just bringing it up because other parts flowed so smoothly that I wasn't sure if it was a deliberate stylistic choice or not. Of course, the fact that there was such a smooth flow elsewhere suggests that it probably is, but...?

Anyway, I'm very much looking forward to more, of this and of other things! You really do have some great stuff in here. I can't remember if I've likebombed it all in the past (if I haven't here maybe I did on SB, come to think of it -- I can't remember where I read it all before), and if I haven't that will be corrected as soon as I take the time to reread it all!

If you're ever wondering if I made a mistake vs. a stylistic choice, the answer is that I made a mistake. Every single time.

And you're right- it does seem to work better that way. I'll try and remember to fix that tomorrow evening.

I believe you like bombed my SB thread already, but your bombing here made me smile, so kudos to you. A couple of my other readers do that too. Like here and there, and then usually comment on FFN. I'm surrounded by love! <3<3<3
 
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Keep the Flame Alive (Dark Souls) 2
2

The sun rises and falls twice, and a presence enters the firelight.

Anastacia secrets away the binoculars to a spot outside view in her cell, and smooths the worst of the dirt from her dress in preparation. Rags, though not as clamorous as some of the armored folk that have visited the bonfire in the past, still rings and jingles, and the sound of her boots is easy to follow.

She's so focused on the other woman's approach that she almost misses the ripple as another presence enters the shrine. If the newcomer makes a sound, she cannot hear it, though they do stop a moment at the fire, circling it with the deliberate motion of someone taking in the sights.

When Rags finally clanks into view, Anastacia is tensed, a carved, ashen statue. The second follows behind the blonde. A man, judging by the height, though he is clad head to toe in elaborate, copper-gold armor. His chestplate is the strangest, his ribs and heart encircled in a pair of sculpted, metal arms. Like his armor was its own lover's embrace.

"It seems that most of the folk I meet in Lordran are in cells," Rags says, stepping aside to introduce the man. "I was able to free this one at very least. This is Sir Lautrec of Carim."

The man bows in return, fist to heart. A formal response that would merit a curtsy, were she able to give one. Instead, she bends at the waist, a sitting bow.

"Your fire will be of great relief after a lengthy imprisonment." Lautrec's voice is somehow rough and smooth at the same time, a rustling snakeskin noise. "Would you honor me with your name, maiden?"

She performs the familiar gesture for muteness, adding a small bow of the head as conciliation for her silence.

"Ah, my apologies." Lautrec's helmed head turns to Rags.

The other woman blinks, caught off-guard. "Yes?"

"What is her name?"

Rags' eyes widen. She glances across to Anastacia.

Anastacia looks back. And then surprises herself by shaking her head, ever so slightly.

"Her name is... is just 'vestal.'"

"It is my pleasure then, vestal," Lautrec says. "How provident to meet another of faith, especially one as devoted as you. Service to the gods is never easy, and your station as anchorite must be its own trial. Perhaps, if it will not impede your duties, I may return later and speak of beloved Fina with you?"

She nods, then flashes gestures at him. One palm lifted, held towards him, then drawn into towards herself. Please, come see me. She spreads both arms, taking in the whole of the area. You are welcome here.

"That is most gracious of you." His smile is audible, the cheer odd in his raspy voice. "I look forward to our talks."

He bows once more, nods to Ragnhild, then departs, padding up the stairs. She can feel him passing through her firelight, though he does not use the bonfire. Instead, he walks onward, leaving the circle of warmth and vanishing from her awareness.

It is only then that the smile leaves her face and she looks back to Rags. The other woman has a similar expression of abashment.

"I- I did not want to tell him either." There's a rueful twist to Rags' mouth. "It felt as though, if you wished to tell him, you would tell him."

Anastacia smiles softly and nods. The idea of sharing her name again so soon, after so long anonymous… is uncomfortable. An intimacy, a confidence that Lautrec had not earned.

She reaches out and pats the dirt before her cell. Rags sits with an unladylike grunt.

"I suppose you want to hear about my latest misadventures. Well… I don't know where they captured it or where they got armor for it, but the hollows at the gates of the parish had a war boar, of all things. I was half-tempted to bring it back for you to ride upon, and..."


XXX

Rags is in and out frequently over the next week. A shortcut discovered in the parish allowed the blonde to come and go with immense ease, and her visits become daily. Anastacia, though she can't tend the fire as frequently as she likes, remembers the days more keenly than any that have passed in a long while.

Time is meaningless to the endless. She kindles, she burns, she quells. The fire is and will be.

But when Rags visits her, the time that had passed by, an unbroken river, a mindless stretch of ritual and routine, becomes alive.

Each time, she brings stories. Little tidbits of her explorations into Lordran. Anastacia, who has made due with her own imagination for years, finds herself rapt as Rags weaves tales of the land beyond the shrine.

The other woman should have been a storyteller.

XXX

On the second day, Rags brings her a tall, ornate helmet. It is too large for either of them to wear, and bears six eyeholes, of all things.

"A sorcerer's," she says. "He danced to cast his spells. Would that I had such an ally on my side. He turned the meanest of hollows into a rabid mob."

Rags' laugh is rough around the edges, and though she says it like a joke, Anastacia doesn't think it is.

Tentatively, she pokes a finger at one eyehole. They're actually lensed, covered over with a strange crystal-glass. Whatever metal the helm is made from is cool to the touch, and oddly slick, as though it has been oiled.

She lifts it, meaning to put it on as a lark, something to lighten the atmosphere, but pauses, staring into the opening. She could smell it, this close. Steel and incense. Ragnhild had almost certainly killed the man wearing it. Putting it on would mean tasting his last, stale breaths, the stink of desperate combat.

She lowers it and sets it aside.

The eyes have weight to them, as though it is watching her.

"Anastacia? Are you well?"

She blinks, and looks up again. Rags is leaning in, her face concerned.

Anastacia smiles, waving away the bad mood that had settled around her. She thinks a moment, and then starts miming to Rags.

It takes some doing, but she manages to goad the other woman into imitating the sorcerer's war-dance.

Anastacia laughs so hard she nearly vomits humanity.

Ragnhild ends the dance pink-faced and smiling, and immediately tries to rope Anastacia into learning it as best she can.

XXX

The third day is blindingly sunny, the interior of her cave pleasantly cool against the heat, even as the earth outside bakes to a crust. The dour man who hangs about has wandered by in only his shirt-sleeves, and she is fairly certain he's gone swimming in Frampt's pool.

But when Rags appears, she is in full armor, face glistening from the window of her chainmail. It is only when Anastacia motions to her hood and mimes lowering it that Ragnhild complies. Her hair is two shades darker, soaked with sweat and plastered to her skull.

She brings a small dagger, the sheath set with jewels. It is a princely gift, and Anastacia tries to refuse it.

Rags pushes it back.

"Just- It is better if you have it. I know you are safe in your cell, but there are many around who would still attempt to prey upon you." Rags bites her lip. "None do that in my absences, do they?"

She's wearing gloves, but the quiver in her hands is still noticeable. Rags pushes again, and Anastacia takes the knife. Its weight in her lap is discomforting, a strange, hard presence.

Rags finally, at long last, smiles, but doesn't launch into stories as she usually does. Instead, the other woman stares out over the valley, eyes far away. She isn't looking at Anastacia, so there is no way to continue her part of the conversation.

There is silence for long minutes, the two of them sitting and watching. Anastacia has stared down at the valley for so long that it has lost all mystery or novelty, and she finds herself wishing she could see it through the other woman's eyes.

Clouds begin to pass by, their shadows darkening the forests and mountainsides far away.

Anastacia sits and squirms. There is nothing wrong with a comfortable silence, but this is hardly cozy. Rags isn't saying something.

She taps the bars. Softly at first, then more insistently.

Rags does not turn. Anastacia finds herself fuming, humanity beginning to turn unhappy corkscrews in the hollow of her throat.

It is not fair of the other woman to deliberately turn her back on her like this.

She's just beginning to work herself up to full-blown annoyance when Rags turns around.

"I- I apologize. I was adrift in thought." Her eyes flick down to the dagger in Anastacia's lap. "Call me paranoiac, but I will rest easier knowing you have at least that."

She turns back to cloud-watching, though with her head partially turned this time, so as to catch anything Anastacia mimes.

Something has happened.

She gestures quickly at the other woman, trying to find signs to convey wellness and safety. Are you well? Did you die?

They are inadequate. Ragnhild looks sideways at her, sighs, then shakes her head.

"It is of no import. Do not worry yourself for my sake."

A lie. And the other woman is a terrible liar, Anastacia notes. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and in the creases around her eyes, heavy and dark with unspoken words.

Something has happened, and Rags is lying to her about it. This is not the silence of incipient hollowing, or the hush of morning, but the deathly quiet of something too horrible to voice.

Anastacia sits, miserable now. Clouds pass. The sun lowers a bit.

She finally resigns herself to something easier. Duty is always easier, and she has been rude in not playing a better host to her guest today.

There's a bucket of cool water by her bed. Normally for her to wash face and hands with before bed, but drinkable as well. She lifts a dipper of it and scoot-crawls her way back to the mouth of the cell.

It takes more tapping, and some waving this time, but Rags finally snaps out of her fugue and takes the dipper. She drinks, gasps at the mountain chill, and then empties the container.

"Thank you. That was a balm I needed dearly." A pause, a tightness leaves her shoulders, and then she smiles. "Shall I tell you about the juggernaut of Berenike that guarded the altar in the parish?"

XXX

The next two days are easier.

Rags appears with the dawn. They share a quiet moment to watch the sunrise, and then the undead woman is off.

She returns at twilight, laden with new goods and more tales. Anastacia sits rapt as Rags regales her with stories of monstrous beasts and corrupt knights. On the fourth day, she returns smelling of char and over-cooked meat, her chainmail blackened, to talk more on the red drake.

Dragons are an area that Anastacia is ambivalent on. They were creatures of the previous age, and their slaying had heralded the way for the age of Man, the lighting of the First Flame. The theology is not kind to them, calling them little more than jumped-up beasts.

But they are creatures of fire. They breathe it. Live it. Their skin repels flame. They fly.

She is… perhaps a little envious of dragons, who seem gifted with every boon she desires.

Rags catches on after the third time Anastacia motions for more during her retelling on the dragon.

"Keen on dragons, are we?" she says, smirking.

Anastacia shrugs, then points at the other woman and gestures in question.

"More on dragons?"

Head-shake.

"Am I keen on dragons as well?"

Anastacia makes a so-so motion with her hand.

It takes a few more rounds of guessing before Rags cottons on that Anastacia is asking her favorite animal, and by then the moment has somewhat passed. The constant yes-and-no is tiring and frustrating, and when it's over, Anastacia wishes she had just written the question in the dust.

Rags still smiles though, seeming unperturbed. The woman's patience is saintly.

"Well, my mother was always a great lover of cats. My father kept a boarhound though, and when I was young, I used to ride it around, playing at jousting. I remember, when I was six, he was..."

XXX

The sun falls on the fourth day of Ragnhild's visits.

Her stories have run the gamut from her favorite animals to plays to swords to gowns to trades. Rags' voice had grown hoarse, and Anastacia had finally just hauled out her water bucket for the other to sip from.

Sunset finds them pressed close to the bars. Anastacia has her legs folded protectively under her- her feet are as bare and filthy as any farm maid, and the maimed flesh of her ankles is quite indecent – but she is perhaps a little more lax than usual, her posture looser.

"Where was I?" Rags leans into the bars, cushioning her shoulder with her bag. "I think I've told you everything of Lordran that I've seen so far, and life in Balder was hardly the stuff of bards' tales."

The blonde purses her lips, seeming to think. "Why don't you tell me a story this time?"

Anastacia frowns at her. How was that supposed to work? That Ragnhild had enough confidence in her clumsy flailings to think Anastacia could manage a story was flattering, but it was hardly possible.

"Please?"

She shakes her head at Ragnhild. Points at her, then mimes laughter, exaggerated and sarcastic. It would only make you laugh at me.

"I would never." Rags stares at her a moment longer, eyebrows raised, and then she wilts. "Perhaps another time then? Spare it some thought. I would ask you to do nothing I would not do myself."

Anastacia can do nothing but nod in reply. Maybe if she had paper to write upon… Yes, that might work well. She mimes writing, then the curling-fingers motion she uses for give me.

"Ah, I forgot again, didn't it? It will be a hunt for an inkwell that hasn't gone dry or been smashed by some hollow, but if I can find good paper or parchment, would you settle for charcoal?"

Charcoal? Anastacia has lit so many fires that her bones are probably made of the stuff. She nods.

"In the mean time, I could try my hand at making up a story for you." Rags grins impishly. "But you don't get to laugh at me if I don't at you."

Anastacia presses a palm to her heart and huffs in affront. I would never.

"Of course not. Now… this story begins with a… dragon. It- um, was pillaging a far-off village known as..."

Anastacia is so busy giggling at the other woman's clumsy, though rather spirited tale, complete with imitating the voices of every character, that she doesn't notice it getting dark.

But Rags does, and she calls a halt to the story.

"It is hardly fair for me to speak to you, when it is too dark for me to see what you say back."

XXX

On the fifth day, Rags brings a lantern and books, looted from the burg, as well as a cloak to keep the night's air off Anastacia.

Her village had had seven books, five of which were holy texts in the temple. Rags has retrieved as many in barely a day. The consequence of generations of undead coming to Lordran to hollow, leaving their possessions for the taking.

Anastacia considers briefly using the margins as space to write to Ragnhild in, and dismisses the idea almost as quickly. Of the books that aren't scriptures, one is a tome on magic, and the other is a scholar's manuscript. Nothing she is willing to deface when she can just wait.

The cloak is soft and plush, only darned a little, and frankly, too nice to wear round her sooty, ash-caked body. For a woman who has worn her last six dresses until they literally fell apart on her, and only had new garments when someone died nearby, it is a far finer gift than even the books.

Anastacia folds the cloak and puts it aside.

When Rags visits her the next day, Anastacia is freshly scrubbed, her dress beaten as clean as it will come, still drying at the edges. Laundry and cleansing mean limping up to Frampt's pool, and that can only be done in the dead of night, when there are none who might see her bathing.

She wears the cloak. Rags smiles, and Anastacia finds herself regretting not having a protective coating of ash to hide her blush.

XXX

More stories on the sixth day. Haggling with Andre, the undead blacksmith. A brief foray into a nocturnal garden at the base of his tower, guarded by a headless, stone demon. A flower plucked from a bower there as a gift. Anastacia tucks it behind her ear and continues listening without disrupting Rags' story.

The things the other woman has seen. It is everything Anastacia has dreamed of, and infinitely more. Rags' words warm something within her that has nothing to do with fire or humanity, and her presence illuminates the shrine at all times of day.

When they reach the end, there is an unpleasant lull in the conversation as Rags tries to find a new topic, Anastacia shifting on her knees, trying to do the same. It is the same every time they meet. One always reluctant to go, and the other always sad to see her leave.

The silence today is heavier though, Rags chewing her lip, seeming to hold back something unpleasant. She opens her mouth twice, makes to speak, and then bites her tongue again. Rags actually makes to rise when Anastacia gestures.

Two fingers to her lips, then tilting away, her expression plaintive. Come on. Speak to me.

Rags winces, but sinks back to sitting. "Do you know anything of the lower part of the burg? I found a key to the gate some time ago, and only just remembered I had it today. A merchant I encountered is… knowledgeable on the sewers, and she spoke of a path down to Blighttown from beneath the burg."

Anastacia rubs her thumbs together as she thinks, burned flesh against scarred, the motion meditative. It's not a topic that has come up frequently when undead visit her. The sewers are accessible there, and she knows she has heard tell of a way to Blighttown, but such a path would be impossibly circuitous. A fool's errand when there is a lift in the base of the shrine that goes deep into the valley. Every traveler thus far has simply gone that way.

Wait- Blighttown? Anastacia tilts her head at Rags. Why? She points up at the parish and mimes ringing the bell.

The Balderan woman looks away. Her hands clutch at her elbows, chainmail rustling. "Forgive me, I know it is vitally important to you, but I have had little luck. The bell is too well-guarded."

Anastacia taps the sorcerer's helm in question.

"He was nothing." Ragnhild's gaze returns to her, and her mouth is twisted sourly. "I am no match for the gargoyles there. Just as I thought to defeat one, another joins the fray, and I die. I die, again and again and again."

Rags voice breaks on the last word and she slumps against the bars. "It seems that for every hurdle I cross, there is another greater beyond it. I defeat the taurus, and a dragon meets me. I triumph over the sorcerer, only to find stone beasts." She draws a soft, ragged breath. "What new horror awaits me next?"

Anastacia has no words. She wants to reach out, to take Rags' hand and comfort her, but duty holds her hands in her lap like shackles. Touching her once was a mistake, a thoughtless accident. To do so again, deliberately, cannot happen.

The firekeeper is hearth-tender. Host. But never friend. Growing too close to the undead would inevitably end in despair for the both of them. Meeting with Rags like this has pushed too far already.

And even if she did reach out, what would she do? There is nothing to say. She could touch a hand or stroke Rags' hair, but they would be only empty gestures. She could not rise from her cell and aid the other woman in her quest. She cannot raise a sword or cast miracles or heal her wounds.

The firekeeper is tied to the flame, and she can no more stray from its light than outrun her own shadow.

She bows her head. Penitent.

Rags is still a long moment before she exhales and pushes away from the bars. "I- I am sorry. I should not trouble you like this. It is not fair to push my problems on you when all you have done is help."

She turns on her heel and walks away. Not down the stairs to the lift, but up. Through the firelight and off, vanishing into the night.

Anastacia stays, soft and quiet and useless.

XXX

The morn of the seventh day finds Anastacia still awake.

Sleep never came to her, not when the memory of Rags stealing away is still fresh and raw. She had lain awake for hours, and only when the far horizon turned pale yellow, and the sleeping shapes of travelers around her bonfire had stirred, had she uncurled from her cocoon of blankets.

She has just washed and crawled over to the bars when the sound of boots on stone comes to her. Anastacia jerks to attention, ears pricked, eyes wide for a glimpse.

Let it be her.

Boots. Stone.

She knows already. The steps are too heavy, the armor more resonant.

Sir Lautrec steps before her view.

"Vestal, I hope I did not wake you."

He bows, and she returns the gesture in kind. The forms must be observed, and he is a guest. Even if she wishes now that she had stayed in the dark and dank for a few hours more, and Lautrec had found a better use of his time.

She needs to think.

"May I?" He motions to the earth where Rags normally sits.

Anastacia bends her neck, a stiff, clumsy, jerk of a nod.

"Excellent." Lautrec sits differently than Rags- leaning back to put more of his weight on his hands. His whole demeanor remains… poised. As though he could leap from his seat at any moment to fight and kill. A tiger at rest.

"I intended to speak of Fina with you, and it only occurred to me as I traveled back to the shrine that she is little known in Lordran." Lautrec tilts his head in question, and Anastacia shakes hers.

"Foolish of me. In Carim, we have the goddess Fina, patron of beauty and love. Odd that a warrior like I would seek her service, but I'm sure you understand. Service to a greater purpose. My sword in her name."

The floor of her cell is damp, it rained in the night, and her toes are freezing, digging into the mud. The faint push of keeping herself from sinking any further catches his eye like a beacon, a snap of his head like a falcon sighting a mouse. The motion is regretted instantly.

"Got you listening now, do I? Fina is…" He grasps the air, trying to catch a word on the tip of his tongue. "She is perfection. But like all beautiful women, there is no shortage of men seeking to catch her eye. Many knights seek out quests or treasures or glory, trying to prove themselves to her. To make her acknowledge them." He laughs under his breath, the sound hollow from beneath his helmet. "They misunderstand her. Earning her attention is not hard. She loves all equally. What is difficult is proving worthy of her love."

Lautrec rises, shoulders loose, hands spread like a performer. "How could a mortal man ever be worthy of perfect, ever-lasting Fina? Do you love the sparks of your fire, that burn out as quickly as they are seen?"

Anastacia nods.

Lautrec pauses. "Do you now?"

She does. Because the flame is eternal. Even if sparks leave it, they are merely rejoining the world in other forms, and will eventually return. There is a beauty in fleeting sparks that light up her evenings and pop against her pocked cheeks on cold mornings. Little flickering lights, easily extinguished by adversity, but under the right conditions, a blaze waiting to occur.

They are no different than hollows.

But Lautrec is staring at her now, one hand rising like he means to tap the chin beneath his helm. "Now that I think on it, you are tied to your fire, are you not? An immortal. Yes… You would understand what I speak of. Tell me, vestal, have you ever loved a mortal man?"

Her fingers twist in her skirt.

"Did you not ache when he passed?"

How many years has it been? When had she last violated the code of the firekeeper? Not toeing the line as she did with Ragnhild, but outright crossing it.

What was her name? It has been so long. A word that she had locked away, never to speak or think, just as she forsook the names of gods.

"Would it not be better if he had been like you?"

What swims to the surface of her memory is not a name, but an image: a face half-cloaked in shadow, suddenly lit up as pyromancy bloomed in cupped hands.

"Not fading away. Never dying."

More unearths, faster. Something wrenches inside her. A dam is breaking. Rags had only cracked it.

A rasping, husky, lovely laugh; her throat had been scarred by flame early on. She had always smelled like smoke, not the earthy scent of wood smoke, but the sweet musk of incense.

No. No more.

"Never to leave you."

And she had gone off one day and simply never come back, like a dog slinking off to- to-

Anastacia gasps, hands pressing to her eyes.

"I thought so." Lautrec's voice is triumphant.

It's only when she feels the soot on her cheeks beginning to drip and run that she understands why.

Lautrec moves forward. Not all the way to the bars. But very, very near indeed. She looks at him through her fingers, the weight of his gaze palpable.

"The real path to Fina is not to drag her down to mortal standards, but to become something worthy of her. To live forever is the first step on that path. Not as a feeble, mindless hollow, but true immortality."

He tugs at the gorget of his armor, drawing a corded necklace forth. A ring hangs from it, the same color as his armor. Lautrec grips it feverishly.

"I will be worthy, firekeeper."

Anastacia does not move.

He stares at her for a long minute, seeming to wait for her to speak. When she remains still, his shoulders slump as though he's exerted himself a great deal with his words, and after staring a moment longer, he strides away.

Anastacia stays frozen, a frightened rabbit, until he leaves the circle of her firelight and disappears into the world beyond. Then she sinks down, back scraping the wall until chilly mud soaks into her dress and underclothes.

She does not weep.

XXX

The noonday sun has come and gone by the time she rouses herself.

A new fire has taken root in her.

An understanding.

She must have faith. Rags is different. The way Anastacia feels about her is different.

And if she does not believe, does not support the other woman to the best of her ability, she will regret it until the day she dies. Another failure she has to live with.

She cannot live with another.

To that end, she prepares gifts.

A bracelet made from a lock of her hair, the gray strands braided into a ring. Perhaps a strange gift, but young women gave such to those dear them when they went to war back home, and her hair is potent enough to kindle a bonfire if cast into it.

Two little wood containers of salve. The stuff has the consistency of jelly, the color of midnight, and smells like rot, but Anastacia makes it by grinding the moss that grows in her cave, and it will ease the pain of burns. Something for Rags to use if she encounters any more dragons.

These items are wrapped in a simple kerchief, embroidered on one corner with a small, needlepoint flower. Something Anastacia had made as a girl, brought with her as a little bit of home. A bit dingy after all these years, but nothing a good scrub hadn't fixed.

A token of a maiden's favor to a knight.

It is, as her mind keeps telling her, a very forward gift. And definitely inappropriate for a firekeeper to give. But she can't pretend this was anything but selfishness. Not as a firekeeper or as a human, but as a woman.

Lautrec is not wrong. Growing close to an undead is foolish. A lesson learned again and again over the years. There will be pain and loss. Inevitably. But she has learned also that regret cuts deeper than even loss.

So Anastacia sits, hands in her lap, kerchief folded beneath them, and waits for Rags.

And waits.

The sun goes down. Her bonfire glows on the mountainside, a beacon for the entire valley.

Anastacia falls asleep waiting, and wakes with her face in the dirt.

XXX

Two days. Three days. Four.

She does not weep. Such things have burned out of her long ago.

But if such a creature as a firekeeper could hollow, then surely the empty, aching sensation in her chest is what it would feel like.

XXX

A week.

Ragnhild's absence brings with it not emptiness, not welcome solitude, but guests.

A few ragged soldiers pass through the shrine. They have the lilting tongues of Zenans, and trade with the surly man before leaving up the hill to the burg. More undead on pilgrimage. They do not so much as notice her before they depart.

One of the forest-dwellers, a solitary huntress, comes and goes, likely searching for worthy recruits. A strange, lumbering figure in brassy armor, face hidden behind a carved, wooden mask, his sword as long as she is tall, follows not long after.

A paladin, bowl-cut, thick as a tree in his heavy armor, takes up residence further into the shrine. He is waiting for companions, he explains, but he has wolfish hunger in his eyes when he surveys her. This, at least, is something she recognizes, understands. He is not the first man to lust after her. Hollows are nothing but baser desires given flesh.

The knight from Carim remains an enigma.

He has lingered for days. Sometimes he vanishes up the hill or down into the graveyard, but always he returns, stalking about like a great cat, eerily silent even in his armor. Perhaps she imagines it, but he seems to appear more frequently now that Rags is gone.

Lautrec watches her. Not subtly or curiously. He sits down in front of her cell, back to the drop, and watches. His naked interest is discomforting, and she keeps to the darkest part of the interior as much as she can when he is around.

It is not the first time a visitor has taken an odd interest in her. But they all eventually grow bored and leave. Petrus almost certainly will when he realizes the extent of her deformity. Lautrec… does not feel that way. He has not attempted to speak to her again. Perhaps he had said all he needed to. But there is something of the act of waiting in his prowling circuits of the shrine.

Anastacia consoles herself during this time with the knowledge that this too will pass. They are transient. A rest at the fire. Perhaps a night spent beside it. But they all leave. Such has always been the way of things. The bonfire is a temporary refuge. A hearth and home in a land bereft of such things.

Petrus will depart. Lautrec would eventually turn his interests elsewhere.

Ragnhild will return.

She tells herself this. Forces herself to believe it.

And so she stokes the fire and creeps back to her cell, to fall asleep another night surrounded by reminders of Rags.

XXX

Ten days.

She folds. There must be some word of Rags. Some glimpse of her, a beast slain, a traveler aided. Anything.

It takes her hours to work up the nerve to signal the dejected man who hangs around the shrine.

He looks at her like she is a widow, his eyes downcast, his voice low.

"Oh dear, dear, dear. You're waiting for your friend? The lady knight." He squats down so they are face to face. "Did you not notice, martyr? Or were you so enraptured by all her stories?" He looks her square in the eyes, even his tired smile fading. "Did you not see that she was hollowing?"

Anastacia is only kneeling, but his words knock her flat on her bottom.

No. No.

She gestures frantically. At the man- his eyes. Then a furious shrug in question. Did you see? A jabbed finger in his direction. Are you certain?

The man squints at her. "Slow down, slow down. I can't understand all your waving."

Anastacia forces herself to take a deep breath, letting the humanity submerge her lungs a moment before she exhales. She repeats the gestures, more slowly this time.

You. Saw?

He grimaces. "She looked like raw meat every time she came to visit. It was only ever for you that she reversed it. Poor fool, wasting humanity like that… I don't think her journey was going well at all." The man shakes his head as though Rags is some colossal joke. "No, no. She's surely hollowed by now. Did- did you truly not notice?"

Anastacia gives him no answer. She turns her back and slinks into the depths of her cave.

It's only when she lays in the dark, wrapped in the cloak and bedding Rags had given her, and buries her head in her hands, that she knows. The only fool here is her.

How had she missed it?

Failure after failure after failure. Everything would drive another to hollowdom, she had ignored in Rags. The other woman hadn't run off or met with some terrible fate in the lower burg. She'd slunk away to lose the last dregs of humanity. Just as she had.

Firekeeper? She wasn't fit to be a town fool.

XXX

She stays in her cell, biting at chapped lips and picking at old burn scars for a week. A solid week in which Lautrec does not reappear, and even Petrus and the other surly lurker make themselves scarce.

Ragnhild has shown neither hide nor hair. The bell hasn't rung.

The regret begins to hurt a little less.

Time rolls on.

It is the night of the seventh day when Anastacia creeps through the cracks in the mountain. Her duty calls. The bonfire will burn as long as she does, but that does not mean she can rot away in her cell. Purpose is purpose. It must be tended as a garden would, lest it grow wild or wither.

And so she tugs the sword from the stone. The rusted, charred blade crumbles to dust as she lifts it and sets it aside. The flames falter.

When the bonfire has reduced itself to a few smoldering embers, she cleans away the old ash and detritus, sweeping the fire pit clean with a tree branch. The ash she gathers and offers to the sky, letting the wind carry it away from the mountainside.

When the pit is clear, she begins feeding sticks and leaves into the embers. It takes some time before they do more than smolder, but when the first flame ignites, she is there with soft breaths to coax it into more. It spreads slowly. She nurses it with a lock of her hair. More tender breaths.

When it begins to truly burn, she reaches to one side. The sword is there, reforged and become new. Shining steel, a blade like coiled serpents, a hilt wrapped in wire.

The Lord of Cinder's sword rises. She takes it in both hands. Presses her forehead to the hilt.

Soft prayer, eyes shut, mouthing the only words a firekeeper truly needs.

The blade parts the flame when she stabs it downward, and slides into the stone beneath without pause. The fire flickers spasmodically for a moment, and then burns.

The fire becomes a flame, becomes a bonfire.

Anastacia scoots back to sit just on the edge of where the heat becomes uncomfortable. Her dress and hands are freshly-stained with ash once again, and the smoke makes her eyes water.

She sighs, spine loosening, her duty done.

And then someone claps.

Not once or twice, but slow, sardonic laughter, told through applause.

Anastacia turns, eyes wide.

Lautrec, knight of Carim stands at the edge of the darkness. The firelight turns his armor red and orange, and his eyes reflect it back like a jackal's. He lets his clapping subside, gauntleted hands coming to rest on the hilts at his waist.

"That was quite a performance," he says. "I've never seen the like before."

Anastacia tries to find her feet, but her dress is twisting around her legs, catching them like netting.

"Please, don't get up on my account," Lautrec says, still sounding thoroughly satisfied. He walks toward her slowly, savoring the approach. "I thought for a while that you just kept to your cell like that blacksmith down in Old Londo. Just another hermit."

Her ankles are crying out, the cut tendons there aching and protesting as she finally gets her feet under her. She rises, trembling, swaying like a fawn.

Lautrec reaches out, and with barely a push, knocks her back over. Anastacia topples, hands scraping as she hits the earth, a hiss of pain escaping her.

"The dour gentleman that lingered here said you were hamstrung. A bird with clipped wings, kept in a cage. Another assumption on my part." Lautrec gestures at her grimy feet. "Did you know that you leave footprints? Muddy, ashy little prints around the bonfire. I saw them by chance. Fateful, lovely chance."

Her breath is coming in jags, heart painful in her chest, the flow of humanity suddenly cloying and claustrophobic, threatening to split her skin. She wants to scream, wants to run from him, to not just sit there, crippled and helpless, but those things have been cut away, just as he's going to cut away more of her now.

The tears start, and Lautrec sighs, breath whistling through the slits in his helmet. "Do not mistake me, firekeeper. I take pleasure in this, but not because I do you harm. This is the start of my true journey. For that… I thank you. I will make your passing as painless as I can."

He draws his swords with smooth, lazy ease. The blades are hooked and curved, sharp as moonlight.

Anastacia gathers breath and tries to scream. The sound is a reedy, quavering whistle, a final embarrassment among the terror. Her tears are cold, even this close to the fire. They taste like salt and ash.

Lautrec lunges.

Steel arcs, cuts the smoke.

The world spins.

Anastacia's vision whirls. Fire. Night sky. Her body.

Flame.

Her head lands in the bonfire.

There is heat, and then nothing.


XXX

I'm relatively pleased with how this turned out. Surprisingly few rewrites on this one. I got the chapter out, then most of my edits were spent expanding each segment into something better. The middle parts of Rags visiting while she slowly begins to despair at her journey were most of the work. They were originally just a quick montage, with the big reveal being the conversation with the crestfallen man where he reveals that yes, Rags was going hollow and Anastacia just didn't want to notice.

We ended up with a lot more foreshadowing, and this ended up being a more Anastacia character-building chapter than the last, which was more on Rags. The segment where Lautrec comes to speak to her ended up much, much different. Most of his dialogue is unchanged from the first drafts, but got rewritten in context so that he's more... human, and less pure evil. The lines where he starts talking about Mayfly Romances and Anastacia reminisces about her old lover came completely out of nowhere.

I'd originally planned for Anastacia to just not have had that kind of experience in her past, but I feel it makes her more complete as a character, and changes the dynamic between her and Rags from "I think I might be gay" to "I can't love this person because she will eventually die." A much different dynamic there. I feel like some of the firekeeper duty stuff ended up a bit muddled. Part of that was her not having that background in the first chapter.

Did my best to keep the Rags and Anastacia sections from being too repetitive in terms of visiting with gifts and stories, and to focus on them interacting and having a slowly deepening friendship. Anastacia talking Rags into doing the sorcerer dance always gets a laugh from me, and I really Rags' line at the end of the one section where she refuses to keep going because Anastacia can't talk back. Their interactions, and working around Anastacia's muteness, were a lot of fun. I think her being respectful of that muteness says a lot about who Rags is, versus Lautrec, who immediately turns to Rags and expects her to interpret for Anastacia instead of allowing her time to speak in her own way. And it really hammers home that something awful has happened to Rags when she deliberately (and very cruelly), turns her back during the one conversation.

And yes, Rags does have the firekeeper soul from the Undead Parish. She's just forgotten she had it in the hubbub of getting killed repeatedly and losing heart in her quest. She was originally going to return it during the gift-giving sequence, but it was a major enough thing that it took up too much space. Does get a bit fuzzy if we consider the possibility that the firekeeper soul was there because Lautrec slew another firekeeper, but I have him here making the connection that firekeepers are immortal during his conversation with Anastacia. Just assume that his imprisonment was for other reasons, and the firekeeper soul was unrelated.
 
Parselbrat 10 (HP)
10

Harriet Potter,

Please proceed to the Headmaster's Office at 11 o'clock. The office is located behind the large gargoyle statue on the second floor, just beside the Charms Corridor. The password is 'Fizzing Whizzbee.'



Harry stared. Reread the letter twice. Something cold and black and heavy was filling her insides.

After everything, now this.

Too much.

She opened her mouth to speak. To yell. Swear. Scream.

A faint, pained whine escaped her.

Her head was beginning to throb. The fragile dam she'd constructed was splitting.

The parchment dropped from trembling fingers.

She turned. Stumbled. Staggered back into Quirrel's quarters. The sofa was there, open and inviting, warmed by the fire, still indented on one side where he'd sat.

The room wavered. Heat haze. Her eyes watering. Blackscale was talking to her, his words far-off nonsense.

The sofa.

Harry dropped blindly. She missed the loveseat entirely and landed with a grunt on the floor. One arm grabbed hold of the seat, keeping her from toppling into the hearth.

Knees to chest. Head to knees.

She breathed.

In trouble. Probably expelled. Going to be thrown out.

The headmaster.

Quirrel wasn't here. He couldn't protect her from this.

Breathing. Her heart aching, fast and birdlike, shaking brittle ribs.

Too fast. Too much.

Shouldn't be this panicked.

The up and down. Despair and hope and then this.

Her breath wasn't coming. It was like being legilimized again, trapped in her head as her thoughts ran wild.

Had to meet the headmaster. Going to be punished.

Would Snape be there?

The teachers had always been there when she went to the principal's office in primary.

It-

She gritted her teeth, eyes watering, the images of past principals smearing and blurring, becoming Snape's furious, bloody face.

Look at me.

Too much. He'd done this to her. This mania.

Mental attack causes mental-

Blackscale sunk his teeth into her hand. Harry gasped, and then a shriek of pain ripped through the blockade in her throat.

The adder snarled something, the words muffled; he hadn't let go, and his fangs were digging into her.

"Stop it!" she yelled.

He withdrew, a viscous strand of blood and saliva drawn between his teeth and her hand for a moment before it snapped.

"Have you stopped panicking?" he said.

She clutched the wound. "Did you just poison me?!"

Blackscale made a noise that translated as a huff. "Venom does not harm a speaker. You were afraid. Your fear smells terrible; like old mouse and bad meat."

"So I'm not going to die from you biting me?"


He didn't deign to answer, only looking at her, yellow eyed, waiting for a different response.

Harry swallowed. She took a breath. Then another, thoughts slowly settling."I- sorry. You wouldn't do that to me. And you're right, I was afraid."

The adder's tongue flicked out. He said nothing, but he was still listening. She used the interval to jab fingers against the wound.

"Episkey."

The bites closed. There was no sinister burn of poison, no ache in her hand. He really had dry-bitten her, then. Harry sighed and sat back against the couch.

The floor in front of the fire was warm, but the stones beneath her robes were still stone, and still chilly. The blend of temperatures was... helpful. Not cloying, but not frigid. It chilled the clammy sweat soaking her bandanna, but kept the ice in her chest from creeping out any further.

"I have to meet the headmaster." She paused, trying to speak in a way he'd understand. "He is very important, and very powerful. Probably the strongest wizard in the country, from what I've heard. And I'm probably in trouble."

Blackscale huffed again. "So strike first. Even a boar can be felled with a bite it doesn't see coming."

Harry groaned. "Too late for that. Snape probably told him everything already."

Poisoning the headmaster against her certainly felt like something Snape'd do. A very Dursley-ish move. None of her old primary school principals had ever sided with her. Hogwarts had detention, but the third-floor floor corridor was forbidden. The serious kind that went beyond demerits.

There had been delinquents in primary who got kicked out.
The thought had acid licking at the bottom of her throat.

Expulsion. After barely two months at Hogwarts.

"They will kill you?" Blackscale asked. "Then why go?"

"They're not going to kill me. But they-"
Harry hesitated. "They might expel me. Throw me out of the school."

She ought to pack her bags now. It'd be easier than having to do it afterward. If they let her pack, and didn't just toss her out on the lawn like rubbish.

"So they force you from your den. We will find another."

Harry pressed her hands to her eyes. He just didn't understand. "I can't just leave! I need to learn magic."

"You can't learn it in another den?"


She could barely turn out the lights wandlessly. If she was expelled, she'd be back at the Dursleys. Hardly better than a muggle. But she couldn't go back to that life. Not now. Not having seen magic, breathed a better air.

So no Dursleys, then. She'd be, what- on the streets in winter?

A calmer, cooler part of her brain perked up at that. The voice of survival. The voice that didn't care about humiliation or shame or fear. It sounded a lot like Blackscale, and spoke up over the chaotic jumble of her thoughts.

She'd survived worse. There had been days she'd gone hungry, and times in the cupboard where she'd thought she'd go mad. A decade virtually alone. But she was here now.

She'd be on the streets. With a vault full of gold, and a famous name if she absolutely had to use it.

Harry stiffened, eyes widening. If it came down to it- would they really expel Harriet Potter, who the wizarding world seemed to view as one-part Merlin, two-parts Messiah?

"No," she whispered. "No, I don't think they'll expel me."

"Then why do you still stink like a rat in a trap?"

"Because..."
She was still afraid. But why was she even in trouble? Snape had attacked her. She'd visited Fluffy tons of times. Hagrid had shown him to her! He was staff, wasn't he?

She fell silent, straightening her bandanna as she thought.

What would expulsion mean? The loss of friends. Neville, Ron, Hagrid. A home, lost again. Her room. Not just a room. Not just a dorm. Her room. Where she was just beginning to memorize the patterns in the ceiling she fell asleep to. The room where Neville's snake-vine grew on a bedside table, beside a couple bottles of wizarding nail-polish.

And Quirrel. Who made magic live up to its name, and whose magic made hers sing. Who was interested in her. Who cared what happened to her enough to save her.

Her hands closed, balling up fistfuls of robes.

"I'm still afraid because I don't want to lose this life. I don't want them to take it from me. Even the possibility is frightening."

Just because she could lose everything and keep going because she had magic, didn't mean she wanted to.

A bit of warmth had crept into the cold fear. It was not a good warmth.

"And- and I'm tired of being afraid."

She exhaled at the thought, slowly sagging against the loveseat. All the weight of the night before and the morning, forgotten in her terror, had come rushing back.

Her eyes ached. Her hand throbbed. Everything hurt.

"I hate this."

Blackscale slid up and around, coiling over her wrists and palms.

"Your sire will help," he said. He settled over her shoulders like a stole.

A steady, gentle weight. Enough to keep her grounded for now.

"He'll help you shed this skin."

XXX

It was nearly nine when she finally stirred herself from in front of the fire.

As awful as it was to wait, sitting alone with her thoughts for another hour was worse.

There were things she needed to do before she met with the headmaster.

She had to know everyone was okay.

XXX

Blackscale, still at her throat, whispering soft, almost-reassuring things to her. Nagini, still too young to talk, threading her way through Harry's fingers.

They'd met no one so far, and the hallways remained eerie and desolate. The castle felt hollow. She'd passed two floors, keeping the furthest distance from Fluffy's hallway that she could, and was just crossing into the fifth.

The hospital wing wasn't far now. Even if she couldn't quite remember where it was, the halls hadn't shifted from last night- Hogwarts wasn't doing its usual shuffling mischief – and she could follow the faint odor of antiseptic and linen the rest of the way.

The letter, read and reread, was stuffed in one pocket, and just thinking of it was enough to renew her headache.

XXX

The infirmary doors were shut. Harry paused, listening. There was a steady murmur of many voices from beyond.

None of the screaming from last night.

Just as she was about to take the handle, one door began opening. Harry, without thought, ducked behind it.

Three people emerged. A tall, regal man with pale, nearly white hair, a woman, darkly-beautiful, and dark-haired but for a blond streak, and then the boy from the owlery. Malfoy. Or would it be Malfoys? Those had to be his parents.

The trio strode away, Draco sandwiched between them.

"-straight to bed when we get home," the woman was saying. "And not a word about brooms until I've had you checked over."

Draco sagged. "Mother, I feel fine. I don't want to look weak in front of the rest of the house."

Mister Malfoy, who had one hand on his son's shoulder, made a reproving noise. "Don't fuss, Draco. Behave for your mother and I'll see about making a pensieve memory of the governors' meeting."

"Really?!" Draco shot a wide-eyed glance at his father. "You think you'll get Dumbledore sacked?"

The two exchanged a glance, and Mister Malfoy seemed about to answer, only for Miss Malfoy to clear her throat loudly.

"You're over-exciting him, Lucius."

Any more conversation was lost as the group turned a corner and went out of sight. Harry took the opportunity to peek around the infirmary door, then slip in herself.

The hospital wing was surreal in daylight. The expanded space for the hundreds of beds a bit fuzzy around the edges, and the floor crowded with dozens of adults, all knotted around various beds. The families of her classmates, mostly, though she spotted a handful of the green-clad St. Mungo's doctors scattered through the lot.

Harry, head down, stuffed Nagini in her pocket, and hissed at Blackscale, who slithered into the front of her robes.

She moved down the rows.

Who exactly she was looking for, she was still a little unsure. She… she had friends, sort of. And peers, in the other first-year girls. Maybe she just needed to know everyone was safe, that the Hogwarts she'd been growing to love hadn't been torn irreparably apart. Even Draco, who'd she'd known for all of an hour, had lessened a weight on her back when she saw him walking out.

The bed she'd taken last night was occupied by someone else now, a dark-skinned, older boy speaking rapidly to a tangle of relatives in a rhythmic, sliding language that she didn't recognize.

Down the line.

Most of the students seemed to be awake, and few bore signs of overt harm. A girl a half-dozen beds down had green-stained bandages wrapped round her mouth like a gag, and another girl a bit further than that levitated an inch off her blankets, held down with leather straps.

Just as she was beginning to be relieved, a boy heaved over the side of his bed into a bucket, retching red-black slime. The noise was enough to make her gag, and Harry had to rush to get by the adults streaming to his side.

She was just swallowing down her own bile when she saw him.

Pale, round-faced, hair mussed from sleep.

Neville smiled crookedly at her. "'lo, Harry."

XXX

Snape had said something about a poisoning. But it was another thing altogether to hear it in Neville's halting voice. The stuff of nightmares.

The Halloween Feast. Everyone talking, eating. Fred and George Weasley crowing about some gag they'd just pulled on another Gryffindor. And then someone had thrown up. Then a nosebleed. Coughing. Choking. Someone's skin blistering. Everyone starting to scream.

Neville had stopped talking for a moment there, gulping wetly until Harry handed him a glass of water from the bedside table.

"And then the lights went out," he whispered.

Harry nodded mutely. She'd seen that. And then Snape had come.

"I didn't see you there," he added. "Were you- did you get out alright?"

-look at me, you stupid girl-

Saying something would mean reliving it. She was already doing that well enough on her own. And Neville had quite enough to be getting on with.

"I wasn't at the feast. Wasn't hungry."

It was an easy lie to tell.

XXX

They had talked a bit more after that, but Harry couldn't quite find her words, and Neville was tired, full of enough potions that his eyes were drifting out of focus.

"I'll bring you that snake-vine," she promised him. "To help you feel better."

Neville smiled, eyelids starting to droop. "Thanks. Maybe..." He yawned cavernously. "Maybe you can meet my gran when she gets here. She's… she's probably getting the governors together."

"Maybe." And before she could stop herself, she reached out, tentatively, the motion stuttering, and squeezed his shoulder.

XXX

It was some time after that before she ran into anyone else she knew. Passing dozens of beds, each a scene of its own grief and worry, nearly all ringed with family, was coring her out, little by little.

Seeing Ron, one arm bound in a cast, had her almost breaking into a run, only to falter when she realized he had the largest group yet around him, a small army of red-heads, all of them within arm's reach of Ron like a protective circle.

She left them to their privacy.

XXX

Padma, silent and watchful, raw-eyed at her sister's bedside, her attention fixed on Parvati, the book in her lap forgotten.

XXX

Fawcett, brow damp with fever sweat. Sleeping. Harry left her undisturbed, stomach twisting at the sight.

XXX

Isobel, a shock of rainbow hair still lingering even a day after their sleepover. She was awake, clutching hands with her mother. Her father and older sister sat on opposite sides of the bed and talked to her in low voices.

XXX

Su Li.

Wan and awake, a bandage over one eye.

Her bedside was empty.

"Harry?" Su sat up, wincing as she did so, exposing more gauze around her forearms. "You're okay!"

Harry returned the other girl's smile. "I'm just fine. Are you-" Of course she wasn't okay. "-safe?"

Su lifted a bandaged hand, practically mummified with the amount of wrapping. "Better than I was. Healer Richmond was- he was here a minute ago, but he said I should be fine. No scarring or anything."

"That's great."

"I dunno." The other girl shrugged. "Thought a coupla scars might be cool looking."

Her own scar itched, hidden beneath bangs and bandanna. Harry couldn't quite manage an answer after that. Instead, she glanced around, checking for Richmond.

"You ah… shouldn't bother," Su said. Her voice had flattened, any vibrancy departing. "My family aren't here. Muggleborn, and all that. Dunno if they even told them, but there's no way they'd be able to come up even if they knew."

Harry's jaw dropped. "That's dreadful."

"Yeah. Didn't really think about it much till now, but there's not a whole lot my parents can do, you know?" Su grimaced. "Sorry to be so down. It's stupid, but- maybe it'd be easier to be an orphan. I-" She stiffened in bed, features suddenly a mask of horror. "I didn't mean that. What a god-awful thing to say, Harry. Sorry."

"It's fine. I know what you mean."

And the weird thing was, it really was fine. Because Su was right. Better to have never had something than to have had and lost.

They both looked awkwardly around for a moment, the tension broken slightly, but the flow of conversation also jarred to a halt.

"So..." Su scratched at one of her bandages. "You think I could make a break for it? All these sick people are driving me spare."

"I could be the distraction?"

XXX

They managed to talk for a while after that. Most of the conversation had been on similar ground as with Neville. Talking about the feast. What had happened. What Su had been doing, ("Started blistering all over, and then I kinda puked in Marietta Edgecombe's lap."), and where Harry had been.

She'd lied again, and thought nothing of it. When the other person in a conversation had three-fourths of their body covered in gauze, she was allowed to sugar-coat things.

They were just speculating on whether it was a prank gone wrong when a St. Mungo's witch bustled over. Su needed to have her bandages changed every two hours, and, judging by her walk-to-the-gallows expression, it was exactly as fun as it sounded.

Harry bid her farewell, curtains were drawn around the bed, and she departed. A tall boy sitting in a bed waved as she walked past, and Harry waved back absently, but didn't recognize him. He didn't do anything else but stare at her, so she kept walking.

Ten steps later, and she'd forgotten him entirely as all the anxiety she'd been suppressing resurfaced at once.

Time to meet the headmaster.

XXX

She found herself talking to Blackscale on the walk over. Not really saying anything, just sort of letting her thoughts flow out of her as they came. Blackscale, for his part, mostly nodded along as she poured out an endless list of worries.

Expulsion could still happen somehow, knowing her luck. Detention. Public shaming. What if they told the Dursleys? Did Hogwarts do suspensions? ...did they have caning? Or worse. What kind of punishments could one mete out with magic?

One hand found Nagini, holding the tiny serpent protectively. The faint, rapid patter of the snake's heart against her fingertips helped calm her, just a little.

A gargoyle on the second floor. The destination was deep in the castle. She sensed vaguely, like a bird finding north, that this was near the heart of Hogwarts. And the magic did seem to be converging here, not as clearly perceptible as with people, but more like an undercurrent to the vast river that was the school.

XXX

"F-fizzing Whizzbee."

XXX

A revolving staircase sent her up and up and up. As she rose, she found her palms sweating, her grip on Blackscale more like a lifeline.

The stairway came to a halt. A door ahead, knocker shaped like a griffin's head.

She tapped it. Click. Clack. Clack. Waited, hand outstretched.

The door creaked open.

XXX

The office beyond was more keenly a magician's atelier than any of the other offices she'd seen so far. Whirring, clicking devices made of silver thrummed along on the shelves, row upon row of magical portraits of slumbering witches and wizards ringed the walls, all of it loomed over by an enormous clockwork pendulum on a landing above.

The headmaster himself, though, was nowhere to be seen.

Harry padded in, head swiveling, uncomfortably reminded of her entrance to Quirrel's chambers earlier. A cuckoo clock hanging above one of the shelves read precisely 11 o'clock, so it wasn't like she was early or late.

Careful, cautious steps carried her further in. She half-expected for Dumbledore to be lurking behind a shelf, trying to make a dramatic entrance, though why that would be, she wasn't sure. The office was empty, though not silent. The devices added a quiet rhythm to the background, and several of the sleeping portraits were snoring or breathing loudly.

When, after staring around wildly for several minutes, Dumbledore failed to materialize, Harry loosened. Perhaps he was simply busy or he'd forgotten. Certainly he had more important things to do than meet her.

...at least there was no shortage of things to look at. Dumbledore had even more books than Quirrel, though the room smelled not of old parchment or paper, but a hint of peppermint. She walked, hands folded behind her back, looking, as Aunt Petunia had always insisted, "with her eyes, not her hands."

Much like Quirrel, most of the books were ancient looking, all worn leather and iron bindings, the titles written in elaborate runes. But unlike Quirrel, there were outliers. A copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream sat in between two potions manuals, and a dog-eared edition of something called The City and the Pillar rubbed shoulders with two fat numerology tomes.

There were more, now that she looked, picking out the smaller spines, brighter colors at a glance. Muggle books.

Curious, she moved about the office more readily, taking in the vast collection of books. Books on every type of magic, shelved with no particular order she could recognize, but always interspersed, so just as her eye was growing used to grimoires, something mundane popped up. A gardening guide for the English countryside. A book of poetry. Knitting patterns.

It was… it was like going to a library and instead getting a cross-section of the headmaster's interests. If she wasn't in trouble, she'd be very tempted to ask him about his collection. It-

A rustle.

Harry jerked around, heart suddenly dropping then rebounding sharply.

A creature- a bird, sitting atop a perch beside the door, looked back at her. It had remained motionless until now, and she hadn't noticed it.

Perhaps the size of a swan, it was brilliant red, plumage gradating from crimson to orange to bronze, a tail as long as peacock's hanging below its perch.

It was magical. She could feel it, like it had been hiding itself until now. A ball of sun and flame. Gentle spring morning now, but it could burn like summer if it had to. The inky eyes staring from above its golden beak were intelligent, far more than the cool gaze of a normal raptor. Like a step above even the magical birds used to carry the post.

"Hello," Harry said. After a moment of hesitation, she bowed her head to the bird.

The bird tilted its head, then nodded back at her.

"I- uhm, was supposed to see the Headmaster. Is it okay that I'm here?"

Another nod.

"Oh. Okay then." She fidgeted in place. The bird was too smart to be a mere pet, and after glancing through his shelves, she was certain such a thing wasn't to Dumbledore's tastes anyway. Maybe it was a… what was the word Quirrel had used?

"Are you the Headmaster's familiar?"

The bird turned its head fully to one side, crested skull in profile. She could see herself reflected in its eye. And then it nodded.

Part of her was curious as to what it would be like to reach out to it, to let her magic touch the bird's, just like she'd reached out to Malfoy's bird the day before. But that was also a patently stupid idea. This bird was so blatantly supernatural and intelligent, it would be like legilimizing a person.

Oh… she should probably apologize to Malfoy's owl. Also, it was clearly aligned with fire in some way, and sticking her magic into that was probably as good an idea as poking her hand into a furnace.

Something as bright and wonderful as this creature didn't need her tainted hands on it anyway.

The bird chirped at her, turning its head to look at her with the other eye. Examining? Scolding? There were limits to bird body language.

"Um… I'm Harry, by the way." She fidgeted on the spot for a bit, not really certain of what to talk about with the bird. A glance around. "Does- does the Headmaster read any of his books to you? I do that with Fluffy. He's the uh- cerberus that lives upstairs. Do you know him?"

Nod. Then the bird shifted on its perch and jabbed at a book on the nearest shelf with its beak. Harry leaned in to read the spine. E. Nesbit's The Phoenix and the Carpet.

Stared. A double-take at the bird.

"You're a phoenix?" Another glance back and forth. "Isn't that a bit on the nose for your favorite book?"

The bird- the phoenix, gave a short, indignant squawk, and fluffed its plumage.

"Sorry. I'm sure it's very… insightful."

From behind her, there was a quiet laugh, and then someone spoke. "You'll have to forgive Fawkes. He is quite defensive when it comes to literature."

Harry yelped and spun on her heel, nearly toppling into the phoenix's perch.

Headmaster Dumbledore stood beside his desk, one hand resting atop it.

He smiled at her, not unkindly. "Good morning, Harry."

XXX

Her heart had jumped into her throat when Dumbledore surprised her, and it hadn't come down. Didn't feel like it would, judging by the rapid, frantic beat it was currently setting.

"I must confess," he said, "that our meeting slipped my mind. I was in a hurry and thought to save time by apparating into my office."

He said that, but he could very well have been there the whole time. Watching. Trying to see what she would do. Aunt Petunia had pulled that one a few times.

"May I offer you anything? Tea? A strawberry drop?"

Harry blinked, still off-guard. "I- no thank you, sir."

His lips quirked. "A shame. I switched brands after Professor McGonagall informed me my lemon drops were universally loathed, and I'm quite fond of them." He popped a red candy in his mouth. "Please, take a seat." He motioned to a chair before his desk, taking his own seat in turn.

Twice in one day that a teacher had asked her that. And her nerves here put her time with Quirrel to shame.

She sat. This much was familiar. A straight-backed chair, lightly padded, dead center before a teacher's desk.

She had seen the headmaster before, but never up-close. And meeting him face to face was… an experience. Not just because he was dressed in brilliant purple and vermilion robes, and had a band of brass holding his beard in check. But all of it. Him. The jovial smile. His magic, a sedate flow of molten gold.

That last was the strangest. Because much like the phoenix, she had not been able to sense him until she sat. Could he hide his presence somehow? Was that like how Quirrel could shift what magic was at the fore?

"How are you feeling?"

She looked up. Dumbledore was watching her over his semi-circular glasses. Not with the same intensity she'd gotten from Quirrel, but his focus, his attention was unmistakably on her.

"A bit tired." She was tired of this day. As much as she wanted to meet up with Quirrel again, her thoughts were drifting more to the bottle of dreamless sleep she had in her bag. Why couldn't things just stop for a moment?

But her classmates in the hospital wing certainly had it worse, didn't they?

"It could be worse," she added hurriedly.

"I see." His eyebrows drooped, his face contrite. "Madame Pomfrey mentioned that you left the infirmary last night."

She stiffened.

"You're not in trouble, Harry. Considering all that occurred, all that you endured, I can hardly blame you for wanting to be away. She was not terribly pleased with you though, so I would recommend against a repeat performance."

Harry nodded, trying to keep her face blank. This felt like a situation leading up to a "But."

Dumbledore sighed. "You are not in trouble," he repeated, sounding weary. "What happened was not your fault, nor do I believe you to have any involvement in the incident at the feast."

Some of the pressure around her heart eased.

Harry swallowed. "Did they um- find out who did it?"

He looked at her. There was that careful, weighing expression again. "It is being investigated. All of Hogwart's staff are involved, as is the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. A number of aurors should be arriving… any moment now, actually."

She nodded, though she wasn't sure what that meant.

Dumbledore carded fingers through his beard for a moment. "I owe you an apology for last night. I was aware that you visited the third-floor corridor frequently, but I allowed it to continue." He read her raised eyebrows correctly. "There is nothing wrong with desiring time alone, or having an interest in magical creatures. As long as you weren't attempting to gain entrance to the trapdoor, there seemed to be little harm in allowing you there."

Trapdoor? She'd assumed it was just storage or Fluffy's toilet or something…

"However," Dumbledore said gently, "I cannot permit you to return. It is forbidden for a reason, and I fear you would only be exposed to more harm, even if only collateral, by remaining."

Her stomach fell. She wouldn't get to see Fluffy again?

But it was hardly a surprise now, was it? Stranger if he'd let her keep going, really.

And so Harry shut her eyes and forced herself to nod. "Yes, sir."

She wanted to hold onto Blackscale. Something to anchor her while she was adrift in unknown territory. But he was beneath her shirt and out of reach.

"Hagrid will see that Fluffy is well cared for. I would assume he was the one who introduced you in the first place?" When she nodded, Dumbledore smiled. "Perhaps we can channel your interest in magical creatures in a more positive direction. Would you be interested in using a free period or two every week to assist Professor Kettleburn with his Care of Magical Creatures classes?"

Harry blinked, and found herself staring at the headmaster.

"...assisting?"

"Don't tell him I said this, but Professor Kettleburn is getting on in years, and his magical limbs have seen better days. He could use a pair of young hands to help him set up. Why, I remember just last semester when he-" The phoenix squawked from across the room, and Dumbledore broke off with a cough. "I digress. It would only be on your free periods, and possibly during the weekend if he needs you, though you're under no obligation to do so."

She bit her lip. Her first impulse was that this was a punishment wrapped up like a gift, and that she wasn't actually allowed to say no, but it didn't really feel like that. But better to say yes rather than risk turning Dumbledore against her and souring what seemed like a good mood.

Also… she'd glimpsed a few Care of Magical Creatures lessons from afar, and Hagrid had spoken of them before. They sounded amazing.

"Yes, sir. I- um, that would be nice, sir."

"Wonderful!" Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "Silvanus will be overjoyed to have some assistance."

Harry nodded, shifting on her chair. The other shoe was going to drop now, wasn't it?

"Now, I know you're already out and about, but if anything changes, I would like you to go straight to Madame Pomfrey. Even if she is busy, she will make time for an ill student."

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent. I did have one more request before you leave, though."

"Sir?"

She could see it coming before he said anything. Dumbledore shut his eyes for a moment, seeming to gather his thoughts. When he opened them, his brows were knit, and the hand that rose slowly to adjust his glasses was stiff and slow.

The other shoe.

"I ask that you keep the events of Halloween involving yourself and Professor Snape confidential." Dumbledore paused, his face grim. "He acted… rashly. He was injured and not thinking clearly, and I believe his fear got the better of him. But what he did was not right. The harm he did you, no little matter."

Her eyes itched. Harry swallowed furiously.

"It is cruel of me to ask you to bear this burden, and I do not ask you to forgive him, but I believe that speaking of it will only harm the both of you more in the long-term."

Who could she even tell? Just the thought of retelling it made her queasy. Reliving it, again and again, not just in her head, but having to rip it open and tell other people? She'd lied to Su and Neville for a reason.

Look at me.

There was something in her throat.

Look at me, Potter. Who sent you?

Her breath hitched, and she shuddered, skin crawling.

The words didn't come. Would not come.

Dumbledore's blue eyes had stopped twinkling, the smile-lines around his mouth creased into a grimace. He could see her struggling.

"Harry," he said, voice soft. "Discretion, not silence. If you need to talk to someone, a trusted adult- myself, Professor Flitwick, Madame Pomfrey, Hagrid. Any of Hogwart's staff are available to you."

The burning in her eyes was getting worse. What would Hagrid say if she told him? Or did he already know? Was he going to look at her from now on, and all she'd see was pity in his face?

She managed a spasmodic nod.

Dumbledore did not smile. He nodded back, shoulders bowed. "Thank you. I-" He paused, tilting his head to one side, as though listening. "Ah, but it seems the school governors are here."

Harry stood up fast enough to scrape her chair's legs across the stone. Excuses rushed to her lips. I don't want to be a bother. Do you need to meet them? Should I leave?

But she didn't manage to get any of them out before the headmaster motioned to the door. It swung open, though she felt no magic.

"You may go."

She nodded, mouthed a thanks, and turned toward the door.

"Harry."

She froze, but did not turn.

"Please remember what I said. If you need someone to talk to, there are adults who have been where you are. Hogwarts protects its own. What Professor Snape did to you will not happen again."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, barely a whisper.

And then she was moving, hand already digging into her robes for Blackscale, the door closing behind her.

XXX

Down the stairs.

A crowd of men and women at the gargoyle, boiling inside as it stepped aside, nearly trampling Harry in their haste.

She barely noticed them, too wrapped up in her head to pay attention. The potion Quirrel had given her seemed to be wearing down, and her thoughts were beginning to pile up again, cluttering and jumbling.

The day had been too full. The continuation to a night that was already too much to cogitate.

Dumbledore. Quirrel. Snape.

What was she supposed to make of it all?

It won't happen again.

She wished she could believe it.

Her feet carried her, and surprised her by turning right at the stairs, not ascending, but crossing the hall to another corridor.

Quirrel.

Occlumency was worth more than any empty promises from Dumbledore.

Were they empty though, or was she just being cynical? She barely knew him.

Barely knew Quirrel.

Had thought she'd known Snape.

It-

Harry pressed a hand to her temple. The headache was coming back too.

Had to get into those potions Quirrel had given her. Maybe there'd be more of that… what had he called it? Invigoration draught?

Her eyes were tired too. Not just sleepless-tired, but sore in a way that gave her terrifying thoughts about Snape's Legilimency.

Look at me.

A mental attack causes mental injury.


Then why did everything else hurt so damned much?

XXX

She stumbled through the second floor.

The door was there. Locked, as she had left it.

"Nahash."

Open. And close.

XXX

Wand in hand, just in case. Lights extinguished.

Numb, shaking hands groping in her bag for a potion.

The glass of Dreamless Sleep was cool, the liquid inside midnight-blue.

A small label on the outside read 'One small sip at bedtime.'

She took a mouthful.

Barely enough time to cork the bottle before she dropped like a stone onto Quirrel's loveseat.

Sleep obliterated her.

XXX

Waking was instantaneous. Slow opening eyes. A fireplace. A strange texture- not her bed. The blanket, also not hers. An unfamiliar ceiling.

Harry sat up, blanket falling away, blinking sleep away.

The faint scent of books and dust brought her back to reality.

Quirrel's parlour.

She stood, wincing as cold soaked through her socks and-

...had someone taken her shoes off?

She padded out of the parlour, blanket wrapped around her like a cloak, moving with a dreamy sort of stagger. Out of sorts was the best word for it. Waking up in a strange place, wearing a strange skin to go with it, the whole world just a bit sideways feeling.

The windows in Quirrel's office were dark, the sky outside black. The interior was well-lit, candles brighter than they should be, chasing shadows away.

Quirrel was at his desk, sleeves tied back, bent over an array of small dishes and beakers. He didn't look up when she entered, but his magic, like a colorless fog around her ankles, was aware and watchful.

It was only when she moved to look over his shoulder that he stopped measuring potions into a dish.

"How do you feel?"

She swallowed. Dry mouth. A soreness in her jaw like she'd been clenching her teeth in her sleep. But her headache was barely a twinge around the backs of her eyes, her fatigue more spiritual than physical.

"Better."

"Enough to bond a familiar?"
Quirrel finally turned from his work, and Harry blinked in surprise, one hand to her throat, when she saw that he had Blackscale and Nagini sitting on his desktop.

What had he said about it? They would make it harder to legilimize her?

"I think so."

He smiled. "Good. Take a seat. Socks and robes off."

"What?"
Harry hesitated, caught off-guard by the oddness of it.

Quirrel pointed to one of the beakers. "I'm going to be drawing runes on your skin. So unless you'd like to do it like the Sumerians did, and write it on stones that you swallow..." He cast an unimpressed look at her. "They are not small stones, and they are sharp. The Sumerians were great believers in pain."

Harry started unbuttoning her robes.

XXX

What followed proceeded with almost dizzy rapidity.

Harry removed her outer robes, rolled up her sleeves, and then put her hair up, using the bandanna to tie it back. She dipped her hands in a small basin of clear, cold water, then at Quirrel's instructions, washed her face and forearms.

She sat. He knelt.

There was a knife in his hand. Small and silver. The edges were dull, but the point was not. Quirrel took her hand in his and pressed the knife tip to the center of her palm.

"This is going to hurt. The act of sacrifice gives the ritual power."

It did sting, but the cut was shallow, and he talked to her the whole time, voice low and steady.

"Cleansing, followed by bloodletting with an athame. We mix the blood with the ink- I've already prepared it. If you do this in the future, remember that this isn't the stuff you write your essays in. It's an alchemical compound."

The ink was pitch black, and even when he tipped her hand over the dish, the mixture neither changed color nor rose. After, Quirrel nodded, and Harry episkeyed her cut closed.

He took one of the paintbrushes, cleansed the tip in the water, and then dipped it in the ink.

"By taking Nagini as a familiar, you link her life to yours. The bond runs both ways: you gain a resistance to certain types of magic, including legilimency, due to having her mind touching yours. In return, your magic will bleed into her. She will live as long as you do, become larger, smarter, greater than a normal serpent, and she is hardly that to begin with."

Harry nodded, but her eyes fell not on Nagini, but on Blackscale, waiting patiently beside the smaller snake on the desk.

She held up a hand. "Um. Sir."

Quirrel stopped, paintbrush hovering over her hand. "Yes?"

"Would we be able to include Blackscale as a familiar? I- um, don't want him to die either."


They both looked at Blackscale. The adder lifted his head.

His tongue flickered.

"I am not interested."

Harry jerked forward in her chair. "What? Why?!"

"I am not part of the endless Ouroboros. If I join with you, I will be. Instead, I will shed my skins until they are gone, and when I shed my body, I will rejoin the gods."


She stared, uncomprehending. Beside her, Quirrel was curling his lip.

"Idiot snake," he said. "What would you know of eternity?"

Blackscale shuffled his coils, resettling on the desktop. "It is not for my kind."

Harry shook her head. Just when she thought she understood him… "If you don't want to, I won't force it." She turned to Quirrel. "If he changes his mind, can I bond him later?"

"Yes."


Blackscale had put his head back down. "I will not."

Quirrel rolled his eyes. "Shall we begin now?"

XXX

The first strokes were ticklish, the liquid chilly. The cold stone beneath her bare feet made her shiver at first, but only until Quirrel noticed, muttered something under his breath, and the floor warmed.

They were halfway through the ritual before it really started to sink in. Harry sat motionless as the professor daubed symbols on her skin. He'd begun at her hands, but was steadily working his way up her arms.

"What I'm doing now is drawing the runes that form the body of the spell." He'd switched back to English; some of the words he was using didn't have a parselmouth equivalent. "Runes are useful in that they combine intent-based magic with symbol-based. The shape of the symbol shapes the flow of magic, but the intent gives it further latitude."

The ink was cool, and he was writing with a tiny paintbrush. It was… ticklish, but she was putting all her effort into not sighing with relief, because it was finally sinking in that this was happening. She was apprenticed to Quirrel, and he was going to teach her to keep Snape out and survival spells and- everything.

"If you'll notice, we're using mostly the Germanic derived runes for this portion. This one here." He tapped her wrist, drawing her eye to a rune shaped like… like her scar? "The sowilo. Likely the basis of the ritual your mother used to protect you from the Dark Lord. A keen choice on her part."

Harry stiffened as much as she was able. No one had ever said anything about that night except Hagrid. "Did- did you know my mother, sir?"

He didn't look up from his painting. "Only in passing."

XXX

Inked runes marked her from wrist to elbow, and he'd changed places. Odd, root-like spirals on the tops of her feet. A crescent moon at the base of her throat. And then more, slick lines drawn over the skin of her neck, climbing steadily toward her face.

Quirrel was leaning in, eyes narrowed as he focused on his work. She was getting goosebumps that had nothing to do with his magic or the weather, and everything to do with his proximity. He was close, very close. More than anyone she could remember willingly being close to her, and for longer.

Each dexterous stroke and brush had an artist's precision, and the care he was putting into it was… it meant a lot to her, if that made sense. That he would not only protect her, but that he really was willing to put in the work to teach her.

It was sinking in.

When he lifted the brush to start on her cheeks, Harry had to force away a small smile.

XXX

Hoooh boy, this one was a slog. Where the last chapter was a struggle because I needed it to be perfect and just didn't have the muse, this one was a slog because I published 3 chapters of other stuff in the interval, and had other fics I was much more enthusiastic to write, and this is basically a transitional chapter. It needed to happen, and we've got plot hooks for a lot of stuff to come, but it's a very uneven chapter, or it feels uneven to me. It definitely doesn't feel as polished as my usual stuff, but I just want to get it out so I can move on.

Went through a couple different concepts, with Harry's meeting with Dumbledore being the sticking point. I wanted to have something in the style of the rest of the fic- an unorthodox take on a situation, and just couldn't get a Dumbledore and Harry dialogue to work in unusual circumstances, and not with Harry's nerves driving her. The diversion ended up being Dumbledore being far away from her expectations, and the Care of Magical Creatures element.

This almost ended up being an Interlude chapter, running through the POVs of several different characters. It was... basically this, but running through Blackscale in a similar scene to the beginning where he bites her, Quirrel attending the teacher's conference, Harry for the hospital wing, then Dumbledore for the meeting, ending with Quirrelmort and the familiar binding.

This might get rewritten if there's something egregiously wrong I've missed, so sound off if you notice anything.

Next chapter is going to be another time-skipping one in the vein of the timeskip preceding Nagini's hatching, probably running up to Christmas.
 
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Cephalophore (HP)
The express was forty minutes outside of London when the mobile signal cut out.

"Dammit." Brigitte lowered her phone, glared at the screen, and then switched it off.

"Language, Birgi." Finn said, not looking up from his own mobile. "And you should have got e-books like I did. Honestly, I warned you. Hogwarts isn't like the mound. Not a drop of wi-fi and-"

"I get it." Finn's canine ears flicked with annoyance, and Brigitte gave him a mocking thumbs-up. "If I wanted a lecture I would have invited Mam."

He finally turned his attention away from his novel. "That," he said softly, pulling a face, "is a terrifying idea."

"Can you imagine how many dead people I'd have to clean up?"

"Not that many, because I'd get stuck with most of the work?"

She flashed him another, even less polite hand-gesture, one which made Finn scowl.

"Language, Birgi."

It was tempting to retort again, but he was no fun at all if he was just going to snap back into 'Older Brother Mode' like that. Brigitte just shrugged and pulled out her sketchbook.

XXX

The next interruption came about an hour later. A round-faced woman opened the compartment, and, to her credit, didn't even blink at the two of them.

"Care for anything off the trolley, dears?"

"No gifts, thanks," Brigitte said, holding up her hands in an 'X.'

Finn rolled his eyes at her. "She's selling them, airhead. No one's trying to give you anything." He turned to the trolley lady. "One of those cream-filled cauldron cakes, if you've got them. And uh- Birgi?"

"Really? I don't eat, Finn," she said acidly.

"We've got magazines as well," the trolley witch interjected. "And playing cards, if you're bored."

"Oh." She rubbed her arm, the skin growing warm with embarrassment. So worried about obligations that she'd looked like an idiot. "You have the latest 'Canterbury Curses Monthly?'"

The witch did.

Brigitte traded her two sickles for the periodical, and then Finn made his purchase. She lifted the magazine high enough that she didn't have to see his smug expression.

XXX

The main article in her magazine was pretty shoddy, actually. Some puff piece they'd only included because the author was a hot-shot cursebreaker. Graverobber, more like. Talking themselves up and telling tall-tales of their exploits in Egypt. It was all stuff that sounded like something out of Indiana Jones.

CCM hadn't printed any of her letters in a while, but she was definitely sending them one for this. Wasting valuable space on a graverobbing scumbag, when just last week a Turkish magi had invented a working countercurse for the Piercing Petrifaction spell. That was front-page news.

"That bad?" Finn said, looking up from his e-book.

Brigitte lowered the magazine. "How can you tell?"

"You're smoking."

Sure enough, the normally sedate haze of black smog that surrounded her was gushing forth, and the ceiling of the compartment was lost in the miasma.

"Whoops."

It took an effort of will to force the fumes under control. An effort that lasted until her attention returned to the page.

Finn sighed and fished in his bag before withdrawing a folded paper. "I've got today's 'Prophet.' You wanna read the obits?"

She tossed CCM away like the dreck it was. "Gimme gimme gimme!"

XXX

Two hours in was enough for Finn to have gotten tired of reading, and Brigitte had long since finished poring over the wizarding death records, gone back to sketching dress-forms, and then gotten bored of that.

Her brother stood, stretching the kinks out of his back.

"I've got some summer homework to get done. I did half, and Jasper did the other, and we're gonna swap. You can come along and meet him if you want. He's got a brother your age, I think."

Brigitte hefted her bag for a moment, debating going for another activity, before deciding against.

"Go ahead. Think I'll explore the train in a bit."

Finn shrugged, turning back to his bag and beginning to unload his work. "Stay out of trouble."

"Hypocrite." She adjusted her speaking skull on its chain, slid out of the seat, and grabbed her jumper. Using it to protect her hand, she seized the door latch.

"It's not cold iron," he muttered.

"Better safe than sorry," she shot back. "Take your stupid nap already."

Honestly, what was he so casual about? It was an entire train made of steel. There could very well be cold iron somewhere in there.

Accidents happened, and life was cheap. They both knew that.

She pushed the door open carefully with her covered hand.

And immediately stopped.

There were two kids standing on the other side. An older girl and boy, maybe middle-teens, the former with his hand raised to knock.

"Hi, we're going down the train to gauge interest in-" The girl looked up from her handful of leaflets. "Bwahh!"

She staggered backward and collided with the far wall of the car. The boy was not far behind, raising a wand protectively in front of him as he backed away.

Brigitte waved. "G'morning."

"What kind of spell is that?" the girl breathed. She seemed to have bounced back, high color in her cheeks as she stared unabashedly. "Scared the hell out of me. Maybe one of those Weasley invisibility hats modified. Maybe-"

"Nat, it's rude to stare," the boy said. He turned back to Brigitte, lowering his wand. "Sorry. You- uh, just, you know, you surprised me?"

She shut the door behind her, cutting off Finn's stare on her back. "No problem. Happens all the time. What were you pamphletting for?"

"Nat was thinking of starting a cooking club." The boy paused, pocketed his wand, then held out a hand. "Lucan Campbell. That's Nat Ramsey."

Brigitte shook his hand, then Ramsey's. He was muscular, though a bit short, his skin a warm brown. The girl was built more like Finn, tall, a dancer's form, her hair a doxy-nest of blond curls. Both wore blue ties.

"Brigitte. And- a cooking club, you said?" She tapped a nail against her skull. "Not really my cup of tea."

Ramsey shrugged. "'S'all right. We've started up like a dozen others. Tell me how you managed that- that's an illusion, isn't it? But you've done it so perfectly. It's hardly first-year material. You've got to tell-"

Campbell's hand over her mouth cut off the rest of Ramsey's ramblings. He wore an expression of long-suffering exasperation so keen that Brigitte wondered if he'd learned it from Finn.

"First of all," he said. "It's clearly a potion-based transformation. Secondly, we do have other clubs. Most are just Ravenclaw study groups, but a lot of people came to our book club last year. Is there anything you're into?"

Brigitte gestured to one of the pamphlets. "Let's make a deal. You stop asking about my head, and I'll take a look at your list."

Ramsey, mouth still covered, groaned, but slapped a paper into her hand all the same.

"Thank you."

The club-listing ran down the front of the brochure and carried on down the next two folds, with the final taken up by the Hogwart's crest. Brigitte read quickly, her stare quickly growing incredulous, her smoke billowing with surprise and excitement.

They had all of these?

"Well then."

Ramsey snickered behind Campbell's hand.

XXX

By the time Campbell and Ramsey had pamphletted their way down the remaining cars in the train, Brigitte had joined the book club, poker night, the Enchanter's Expo, Hexes For All Sexes, junior cartographer's club, the Non-Human Alliance, and debate club.

When they parted ways, the duo going to meet up with friends, Brigitte was giddy with anticipation. Sure, she'd probably have to drop a few clubs once classes got into full-swing, but there were just so many opportunities. She'd never been in a club before.

Humming to herself, she turned to amble up the train.

What other adventures could she find?

XXX

She meandered up the train, glancing in compartments. Hers and Finn's was third from the front car, and while she was ostensibly headed back there, she was in no hurry.

The first couple rooms were uninteresting. Just groups of students sitting and talking, a couple playing cards in the first compartment.

Out the door, passing through the liminal space between cars. The wind and rumble of the engine were muted, quieter than they should be, some aspect of the train's magic softening them.

And then in.

A small knot of students lingered in the corridor ahead. They were old enough not to react with more than a nod and a wave when she passed by, and she returned the wave in kind.

A bit further on, one of the compartment doors was open, the raucous sound of boys' laughter leaking into the car.

Brigitte peered in cautiously, ready to recoil if they were fooling around with magic. Four years of collateral hexes from her elder relatives had been four years too many.

To her surprise, the boys, a few Finn's age, a few closer to hers, were all perched on their seats. Two others were in the middle of the floor, a messy pile of limbs and hands, shirts and robes discarded. The crowd shouted, rooting for this and that as the two wrestled.

Ugh. Boys.

A flash of ochre eyes from the boy on the bottom as he locked the other boy's arms behind his back had her amend the thought. The scent of salt and olive wood was unmistakable, once you got past the palpable wave of testosterone.

Urgh. Demigods.

Fair was fair, letting in all the races meant all of them, but did they really have to invite the lousy Greeks? It was like having all the nuisance of elves, with none of the protections of word or obligation.

She turned on her heel and moved on.

The exit to the next car wasn't far ahead, and Brigitte sped up, trying to put distance between herself and the demis. One of them had definitely called out as she walked away.

She was just reaching the door when it slid open before her. The trolley witch stood on the platform outside, leaning on the handle of her cart.

"Scuse me, dear."

Brigitte stepped aside to let the witch in.

She was grandmotherly, and up-close, smelled like pumpkin bread. If she didn't know better, she'd wonder if this woman wasn't more of a Hansel and Gretel witch than the ordinary kind.

Actually… now that she looked, the trolley witch was a bit wispy around the edges. She hadn't been paying attention earlier, but maybe that had been more induced than carelessness. There was a distinct indistinctness around the woman. A minor glamour, maybe. Or a notice-me-not?

"Hold up."

"Want something for the road?" The witch beamed at her.

Brigitte leaned closer, staring, smoke beginning to curl around the both of them. "Are you… are you a spirit?"

The woman chuckled. "I am. You must have quite the keen third eye to sense that."

Right. Brigitte hefted her skull and squared her shoulders. Duty was duty. She let her magic rise. Not the focused chill of wizard casting, but the raw frost of her mantle. The windows fogged, and the bottles of butterbeer on the cart froze solid.

She spoke, and white smoke plumed from her skull's jaws. "I, Brigitte O'Ciardha, child of Unseel, ask of you this- Answer honestly, spirit: are you bound, compelled, geassed, sealed, warded, or- uhm-"

"I believe you forgot 'contracted,'" the witch said, smiling. "And I am none of the above."

"Oh." Brigitte sagged, her rhythm broken, before she restarted. "Are you uh- if no one's forcing you, then do you have any unfinished business tying you to this world?"

"Oh no. You misunderstand, dear." The witch patted the wall of the train. "I'm not a human spirit. What I am, is a genius loci. The spirit of the Hogwarts Express, essentially."

"Really?"

"Really. I've heard that the castle itself has a spirit, though they are rather more illusive than I am."

"Huh." Brigitte let her mantle fade, waving her free hand to disperse the chill. "Well, it's nice to meet you, all the same."

Genius loci. That was fascinating, actually. It was nothing strange for the oaks and brooks to have their own spirits or nymphs, but if even an artificial space like a train or castle could as well… could a city? Was it possible for the mound to have its own spirit?

"Do you know of any others? Like, is there a spirit of Dublin?"

The witch-spirit smiled. "Walk with me?"

XXX

As it turned out, the trolley witch didn't know if there was a spirit of Dublin or London or any others. Her knowledge was largely limited to the train and its surroundings.

"Don't see much use, do we," the witch said, leaning over to knock on a compartment door. "Couple trips a year, and most of the rest we usually put our feet up."

"Sounds…" 'Dull' was impolite. "Quiet."

"I get enough excitement during the year." The compartment door opened, the boisterous chatter of a lot of boys spilling out. "Anything for you, dears?"

The older boy inside greeted the witch with the casual grin of familiarity. "Morning, Miss Sweetley. Couple of those red ones, two of that, three chocolate frogs, a fizzing whizzbee, and-" He called over his shoulder, "Terry, you want anything?"

"Butterbeer."

"Make that… three, four- six butterbeers."

The witch- Miss Sweetley, Brigitte supposed, parceled out the various items for the boy. There were enough that she glanced over at Brigitte. "Would you mind, lass?"

"Huh? Oh, sure." It was the least she could do in exchange for the information Sweetley was giving her.

Brigitte began taking the numerous treats and snacks the witch handed to her, sorting them in a small, cardboard tray. The butterbeer, which she had definitely had frozen a few minutes ago, had somehow thawed in the interval, and the boy didn't so much as glance at it when she gave him the tray.

"Thanks. You're a first-year?" he said, passing the tray in to another of the boys.

Brigitte held up a hand in lieu of a nod. "O'Ciardha, nice to meet you."

The boy smiled. "Greengrass, it's a pleasure. I'll keep an eye out for you if you make it into Ravenclaw. Seems like you've got a good head on your shoulders."

Brigitte made a very rude hand gesture at him, keeping it out of sight of Miss Sweetley.

Punny bastard. Like she hadn't heard that one a million and five times.

Greengrass smirked, then tossed a coin to her. "Keep the change."

She had just enough time to catch the flash of gold in midair, but she was already reaching for it.

The galleon stung her palm where it touched, and Brigitte yowled with pain. She flung her hand aside, hurling the galleon away from her. Sweetley caught it before it spun out the window, but only just.

"Bastun, plá ar do theach!" Brigitte shook her hand, hissing other, choicer swears under her breath. A welt was already forming on her palm. Raised and red, like she'd grabbed the coin fresh from the minter.

"Alright there, dear?"

"Hurts." Brigitte pointed to one of the bottles of butterbeer. "Do you mind if I hold that a sec?"

"Course." Sweetley made to pop the cap off it before stopping herself. "I should have remembered the fae don't care for metals."

The glass was achingly cool against her tender skin, the relief instant.

Brigitte sighed. "Much better. You're the best."

"You want to take a mulligan at it? Not all of them are like that." The witch smiled once more, revealing broad, even teeth. "Spose I can think up a few more stories about the train for you on the way. Why, I remember one about Mister Greengrass' father you might find amusing."

"Yeah," she murmured, shaking her hand out once more, before she returned the bottle to the cart. The burn was still there, but no worse than a sunburn. "I think I'd like to hear that."

XXX

They actually passed by the compartment where Finn and Brigitte had been, now deserted. Sweetley, to her credit, kept her promise and regaled her with stories of the express as they walked and worked. Most were nice little anecdotes or misadventures, gathered over a century of transporting students.

What Brigitte found most interesting though, was something more personal.

"Sometimes, if the weather's nice," Sweetley said, "I like to walk my tracks."

"Oh yeah?" Brigitte shuffled a few boxes of Bertie Botts Beans from the storage space under the cart to the serving station atop it.

"Oh yes. The train isn't the limit of my domain. I've over 700 kilometers of tracks between Hogwarts and London. Nothing stopping me from walking them during the off-season. I check the ties and rails, just to make sure everything's in order.

"And on the way..." Sweetley smiled fondly. "I sight-see. The countryside is lovely."

"It is."

They both stopped, gazing out the windows at the greenery rushing by, turned orange-red by sunset.

"I love to see how the lands grow and change, little by little, with every journey I make," Sweetley said. "This part here has been farmland for decades. We passed the last muggle town about ten minutes ago."

Were she able, Brigitte would have frowned. "That close to Hogwarts?"

"About forty kilometers. And it's only a little hamlet."

"For now. Muggle cities always grow."

Sweetley arched an eyebrow at her. "I hadn't pegged you as the type to worry about muggles. You and your brother both have mobiles."

"They're fascinating," Brigitte said softly. "And all the tech is neat. I just worry about the muggles spreading. Finn and I are from a faerie mound. In our mam's time, it was in the middle of nowhere, but now we have to stick loads of charms on it to keep the muggles away because they built a retail park right down the road. It's..." She trailed off with a shrug, her words faltering.

It sounded sort of stupid when said aloud. Wizarding Britain had been hiding for centuries, and they did alright, but the fae were just… more sensitive.

"There's only so much space, you know?"

The trolley-witch mirrored her shrug. "True. But if not for muggle technology, I wouldn't exist at all. I understand your concerns, but I try to look on the bright side. Perhaps by the time that space runs out, we'll have learned to coexist with them."

Brigitte didn't really have an answer to that. A world of cities of glass and steel and stone. A world that was getting smaller by the day. How were they supposed to coexist when everything the muggles built was so antithetical to the fae?

"Besides," Sweetley nudged her gently, "I've been round the block a fair shake, dear, and what we have now is a far sight better than the Industrial Revolution. Things are getting better, bit by bit."

A lull. The two of them observing. Gentle farmland had given way to forest and hill.

"You'll want to be getting back. We're almost there." The older woman held out a handful of sweets. "For your brother and your friends."

Brigitte stepped back. "I can't accept gifts."

That earned her a smile, and a flash of something behind Sweetley's eyes- a glint of an existence that had seen two-hundred years of students come and go, all of them novel.

"Of course not. Consider them payment for a nice conversation. I can't say I've ever had anyone try to exorcise me."

Sweetley gave a coarse snort of laughter at that, and Brigitte, after shifting on her heels for a moment, reached out and took the candy.

XXX

A short time later, she was leaning into a compartment near the front of the train.

Finn, ears flicking, eyebrows squinched together, held a handful of playing cards. The four other students around the car, three boys and a girl, were looking at him like cats to canaries.

"We're nearly to the castle," Brigitte said.

Finn waved his free hand at her. "Not now, Birgi. I've got two-weeks of homework riding on this one."

"Last round. Let's see 'em," a yellow-tied boy said, laying down his hand. "Agrippa. Beat it."

"Kirke."

"Dumbledore."

"Abigail Williams."

They all turned to Finn, who was now fidgeting in his seat.

Brigitte tapped a nail on her skull impatiently. "Any day now, Finn."

The other girl was grinning at him. "Play your card, O'Ciardha. And make sure to write my essays legibly."

Finn sighed heavily, and then slapped his card down. The other four leaned in to look.

"Mab?" the Hufflepuff boy read.

The girl scowled. "Mab's not a witch!"

The cu sith shrugged, an infuriatingly smug smile blooming on his face. "If she's not a witch, then why do I have a trading card for her? Also, I'm not about to tell Mab what she can and can't be. It's a bad idea."

He stood, still smirking. "Make sure to write my essays legibly."

The group had just begin to argue when Brigitte finally pulled Finn out of the car by his collar.

XXX

They changed quickly, the train just beginning to slow down.

"I didn't know there was a Mab wizarding card," Brigitte said, her skull speaking from where she'd put it aside to pull her robes on.

"There's not." Finn held up the card in question.

A wave, and the card's face shimmered. Something like heat-haze fell away, revealing the bland expression of "Leonard Lispen, Inventor of the Flobberworm Fritter."

"You cheat."

He chuckled, flicking the card into his bag. "Just a bit of applied glamour. No harm done."

Brigitte folded her arms. "I doubt your friends would be happy to find out what you did."

"Upset that I'm fleecing humans, Birgi?"

"No. That's faerie tradition. However..." She paused, letting him look at her before she continued. "I'm not above blackmailing you to learn that glamour."

Finn's ears wilted, but whatever he said was lost in a blast of noise as the train sounded its whistle, and the Hogwarts Express came to a slow, lumbering stop.

XXX

"Early this year. Must have made good time," Finn said. He adjusted his tie and robes, ran his fingers through his hair, and became, frustrating as always, perfectly presentable.

One of his ears swiveled, radaring something.

"Sounds like everyone else got caught by surprise too. Let's hurry up so we can beat the scrum."

Brigitte stuffed her jumper and magazine into her trunk, and did a last-minute check of her seat to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything. Her skull, secure on its chain around her throat, as always. Her wand, all dark, gleaming wood, got pocketed.

She was just beginning her second, final check when Finn grabbed her.

"Cmon, cmon. I want to get a good seat at the feast, and you gotta catch a boat."

He rushed her out the door like a tempest, even as Brigitte did her best to elbow him in the ribs.

They were first out the gate, hustling onto the platform with black-robed students streaming forth behind them like a flight of bats. Night had fallen, and the sky above was blissfully clear, reminiscent of the starry vault above the mound, and so, so much better than the smoggy, light-polluted sky of London.

Though, it could be much worse, she was forced to admit, waving to a silhouette in a train window that had to be the sweets-seller.

She stopped, catching a deep breath of Hogwart's air for the first time. Thick with steam from the train, but also tinged with the scent of wild pine and raw stone. There had been death here, as well.

The imprints of the Battle of Hogwarts still lingered, vague phantoms and splotches of phantasmal blood scattered about. They'd lost most of their clarity in the two decades since the war, but as battlefields went, that wasn't long.

As Finn dragged her by the weeping, silently yelling echo of a young man, Brigitte reached out. Her touch was enough. The shade turned, his eternal repetitions broken. His eyes fell on her. He mouthed words.

And then he was gone.

Not a spirit or sluagh, thankfully. Just a lingering impression. Harmless, even if they were unpleasant, and minor enough that even Finn couldn't see them. The spiritual malaise they exuded would be vaguely uncomfortable to anyone normal who hung around it too long.

She'd have to find time to come back down and help the rest of them.

The flow of students reached a crossroads. New students like herself were diverging, headed down toward the lake, and an enormous man holding a lantern. The older students went straight ahead, to a line of carriages.

Carriages that were drawn by-

"Thestrals!" Brigitte squealed.

Finn had told her they would be here, but it had slipped her mind. And oh, they were lovely. Whoever took care of them was doing a fantastic job. Fine, glossy coats, the musculature overlying their skeletal forms lean and strong. Well-groomed hooves and fangs. Even their auras were healthy, dark, tempered with cloying death, but also serene, like a well-maintained cemetery.

"Who's a pretty boy?" she said, rubbing the closest thestral's snout. He pushed against her, red eyes closing as she patted him. "Such a good boy."

"Birgi, you need to catch a boat. Come on. Oh, for the love of… girls and ponies."

Finn grabbed her round the midsection and lifted her bodily away from the horses. She squirmed, but her brother had four years and half a meter on her. He lifted her like a grain sack and carried her down the path until they reached the giant man with the lantern.

"Professor Hagrid, sir," Finn called. "My sis is starting this year."

Hagrid bent double to peer down at her, beard like a white waterfall. "Ello there," he rumbled. "An' well met, O'Ciardha. Hogwarts'll be lucky to have another one of yer."

Brigitte fidgeted under Finn's arm. "Lemme down, Finn," she hissed. He was embarrassing her. "And- well met to you as well, Son of Stone." It was impossible to curtsy, but she tried to manage a dignified wave for the teacher at least.

"Aye. Down ter the boats with yer," Hagrid said.

Finn plunked her down while Hagrid stomped off to direct more first-years.

"Son of Stone?" he repeated incredulously. "You sounded like such a dork. There's other fae here, and you better not let them hear you talking like that. I've got a reputation to up-hold. You start in with the thees and thous and I'll show everyone your baby pictures."

Brigitte put her hands on her hips. "I'll tell Mam you're being a bad brother."

He squinted at her, tawny eyes glinting in the moonlight. "The other fae here are seelie."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Finn reached out and squeezed her shoulder once. "Go on before you miss the boats."

XXX

Brigitte slid into one of the last, unoccupied boats, holding tight to her skull so it didn't somehow fall in the water. She only had a few moments to stare around at the dark, moon-mirrored surface of the lake before someone clunked in behind her.

"You- erk!" A boy had stopped with one foot in, balancing precariously, his face white. "Where's your-"

Brigitte waved. "I'm a fae."

He glanced around frantically, eyeing the other boats, but most were full-up.

"I don't mind if you ride with me?" she ventured.

The boy, somehow, went whiter. "I'll catch another one. Sorry for bugging you."

He stumbled off, and Brigitte did her best to ignore the sounds of him joining another boat, as well as the rapid whispers that sprang up in his wake.

Something hard and unpleasant settled in her chest.

Grumbling under her breath, Brigitte settled back and began tracing the lines in her speaking skull.

The bone was old, gone yellow like aged ivory, and carved with a fine filigree of woven, interlocking lines and whorls. Her fingertips followed lines until they branched, and she picked a path without thought. The designs had no beginning or end. She could trace them as long as she needed, the act meditative.

It helped her ignore the sounds of more students diverting from her boat, the gasps, the whispers.

The only spot of variance was the copper plate set into the skull's forehead. Worn just as smooth as the rest of the skull, the etching was only barely visible.

Her index followed the letters, one by one.

V-A-L-E-R-I-E

Why her mother had felt the need to give her a saint's relic as a speaking skull, Brigitte still didn't know. Probably some kind of irony or morbid joke. But honestly… a Christian saint. It wasn't even her culture.

The skull was useful, but it was wrong. It wasn't hers, nor would it ever be hers.

It took a frustratingly long couple minutes before Hagrid called out, and the boats began to slide forward.Brigitte's was near the end of the pack, and she was just beginning to brace for movement when her boat shuddered.

Someone got it.

She turned, heart pounding rapidly.

Another girl, staring at her with concern. "Y-you don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all," Brigitte said warmly, injecting all her cheer into the words.

Her boat-mate was a pale, white-haired slip, her heart-shaped face currently wrinkled in concern. The air around her was just a tad warmer, the edge taken off the night, and her silver eyes caught the light in an odd way. She was so… frankly fae that Brigitte was trying to place if she'd seen this girl at the last ring dance.

She tapped a thoughtful finger on her skull, but just as she was about to ask what this girl was, the boat lurched into motion, and she stayed silent.

The girl made a few, abortive motions as though she was about to speak, and Brigitte found herself uncharacteristically tongue-tied. They made it as far as introductions – the girl was named Perrine – but any more talk died altogether when they rounded a bend and saw Hogwarts for the first time.

XXX

She was still dazed when the boats came to a halt. Their port was inside an ivy-shrouded cave, each boat lining up neatly beside a dock. Students disembarked, knotting up around the foot of the stairs leading away from the dock.

Brigitte stood, knees a bit weak, and followed along behind them. Most of the first-years were as silent as her, though some were talking excitedly to their fellows.

No wonder Finn had always insisted "she'd have to see it for herself."

Hogwarts was a place with history.

Not an abandoned, barely preserved relic like most of the castles left around Britain, but a functioning, living being with over a millenia of history, steeped so deeply in magic it was almost like approaching the seat of a seated faerie lord.

A teacher approached from the top of the steps, working with Hagrid to get everyone lined up, but Brigitte was still lost in thought.

What would Hogwarts' genius loci look like?

Or, perhaps more dauntingly, how much spiritual baggage had the castle accrued over a thousand years? It was well-known that it had a massive population of ghosts, and being the center of a war hadn't helped it any. It-

One of the passing students bumped her, and she stumbled, broken out of her thoughts.

"Sorry," they both said at once.

Brigitte turned, only to freeze.

Oh, this must be some cosmic joke.

A girl glowered at her. Tan skinned, with a short, boyish cut of berry colored hair, and matching lips. Eyes like stained glass, not quite green or blue, but some bastard child of the two with all the best of both worlds. Topped off with delicate, spidersilk wings trailing from her shoulders.

Brigitte embedded all the contempt she could muster into a single word. "Summer."

The girl's lip curled. "Winter."

Any further snarling would have to wait though, because Hagrid came by, motioning at everyone to "line up there, cmon, budge up."

Brigitte got stuck with the pixie queued behind her, though she stayed half-turned to better watch the seelie.

And then the person in front of Brigitte turned round, and she found something else to be annoyed at.

"So- erm, you two know each other? I'm Langdon."

It was the boy from the boat. He was, to all appearances, utterly mundane. Boy-shaped. Kind of gawky. Taller than she was even minus her handicap. Brown-hair, gray eyes, and a dizzy, curious expression that had her pegging him as muggleborn right out.

Finn would call him an easy mark. With his reaction to her condition, she called him a waste of space.

"She said your name was Winter, right?"

And he was still talking. If she answered, maybe he'd go away sooner.

She sighed. "It's Brigitte. Winter is the court of faerie I belong to. The rainbow-colored idiot behind me is from Summer."

The pixie stepped forward, skirting Brigitte, and offered her hand to Langdon. "Nora. And don't mind Winter there, she's probably just nervous. I know I am. It's really daunting, you know?"

The boy nodded back, giving her a watery smile. "It is! All this magic stuff. Didn't even know it was real until..."

Brigitte stepped back, letting the Nora take her place in line, and tuned the two of them out.

How could she have forgotten Nora was going to be coming to Hogwarts too? They'd talked about it so often as kids.

She stared at the roof of the cave, mosaiced with shiny stones probably pulled from the lake, until the lines began to trundle forward.

XXX

They were staring at her.

Any enjoyment she was getting from the Great Hall (and oh, did it earn its name), was being chipped away by the many, many eyes currently on her.

There were other blatantly magical or inhuman students in line. She just had the misfortune to be exceptional in that regard.

She could see Finn at least, rubbing elbows with a couple boys his age at the Ravenclaw table. He waved, and she waved back, though the motion was jerky and subdued.

Honestly, they should know better. There were plenty of non-muggleborns here. She might be the first of her kind to attend, but the fae as a whole had been coming since the turn of the century, and they were well-integrated with wizarding Britain.

A door behind the teacher's table opened, and a man emerged, carrying a small stool and a grubby, much-patched hat.

Everyone fell silent.

The man placed the hat on the stool, and as he straightened, Brigitte gasped.

Black hair. Green eyes. A faded scar on his brow.

Harry. James. Potter.

The Master of Death.

What was he doing here?!

His appearance kicked the bustle of talk and noise back into full-gear. Everyone in the hall seemed to be as taken-aback as she was.

He rummaged in his robes, withdrawing not a wand, as she expected, but a scroll. Potter let it unfurl, then leaned in, squinting through his glasses. He read a moment, then looked up, eyeing the first-years.

"Right." The hall went silent again, as though someone had just cranked down the volume on eight-hundred people. "We're going in alphabetical order. When I call your name, you come up and put the hat on. It'll tell you which house you get sorted into." A pause, and then Potter smiled. "It's been doing this for a while, so it's pretty sharp. But don't be afraid to talk your options over with it."

More murmuring.

"Ainley, Nora!"

The pixie pranced forward, seaglass eyes wide and fearful. She put on the hat with quivering hands.

Silence. Nora fidgeted on the stool, mouthing words.

"Hufflepuff!"

Fanatical applause from the yellow table shattered the silence. Brigitte found herself stroking her skull, running her fingers along its grooves to quell her own worries.

"Borowitz, George!"

She hadn't really put much thought into her house. The only distinction that really mattered for her was her court, but it was certainly feeling like a much, much bigger deal than she'd made it out to be. Finn… Finn might have been right to say she should take this seriously.

"Depaul, Alexandra!"

"Gupta, Samuel!"

"Hayashi, Fumiko!"

"Malfoy, Scorpius!"

"Nelson-Sanders, Harlow!"

Her fingers locked into the eye sockets on her skull. Nearly time now. Then those eyes would be on her, and-

Wait.

A sudden, gaping problem had leapt out at her.

"O'Ciardha, Brigitte!"

Legs like frozen trees carried her forward.

She stood before the stool. And there was whispering. And talking. And a murmur that had to be greater than anyone else's so far.

Brigitte looked at the hat. Then up at Harry Potter.

He was blinking at her, looking a bit out-of-sorts.

She got to be humiliated in front of the entire school, and her hero. Wonderful.

"So," he said. "...yeah. Any ideas, hat?"

The hat stirred, the rip by the brim curving into a pensive frown. It was, somehow, sans eyes, eyeing her.

"Don't think I've sorted one of your kind before, young lady," it said.

Brigitte found herself shrugging. She lifted one hand to pat the stump of her neck. The black smoke that poured perpetually from it trailed behind her fingers, an after-image.

"I've got nowhere to put a hat."

Hogwart's first dullahan stood there a moment longer, cursed under her breath, and then jammed the sorting hat onto her neck.

XXX

"Hufflepuff!"

XXX

If you're wondering, did Ziel just write 6200 words just to build up to that joke, the answer is yes, resoundingly.

It began as literally just that concept - how does the sorting hat sort someone with no head, and I worked backwards.

This is a oneshot, and I have no real intention to continue it. It's a bit... average. Nothing super amazing, but not terrible. It's what I try to imagine as slice of life for Hogwarts. Someone attending who's not a main character, who's mostly only remarkable because of her lack of head.

Brigitte is fun. She got a personality swap late in the writing process. She went from someone cool and collected, who takes herself too seriously and is a little pompous, to more of... sort of a perky goth. She researches curses, she draws dresses she'd like to make, and joins every club offered her because it's fun. But she also helps spirits pass on.

That whole bit was... extrapolated from Irish myth. Dullahans are more a death-omen in myth, so this was an extension of how that might work out.

The speaking skull bit comes from the namesake of this fic. Cephalophores. Head-carriers. Typically Christian Saints who were decapitated, and wandered, holding their own heads, to work miracles and stuff. So Brigitte's mother got her a skull to speak through as a way of thumbing her nose at Christianity. Brigitte needs the thing to be able to speak- it's a medium through which she communicates.

Why does Brigitte not just wear a glamour for a head, or use someone's head to replace what she doesn't have? Because it's not hers. Were I to continue this, Brigitte's main struggle as a person would be finding that head that would make her complete. Something that matches the way she thinks she should look on the inside. Just slapping any random head on there would be jarring and upsetting, and would be downright taboo in dullahan culture.

I'm not 100% thrilled with the final results here. It's a bit flat, and I don't think it conveys the typical emotions usually associated with slice of life. It's more just the Going to Hogwarts sequence, explored through new characters. Part of the issue was dancing around the headless thing to build to the joke, with the end result that Brigitte's central conflict with others (she doesn't like being judged or looked at like a freak) was ill-defined.

If I do continue this, it'd likely be another oneshot about Brigitte being a gigantic Harry Potter fangirl. Because ohmigods, he's the Master of Death, the man who held the mantle of Death in his hands and put it down, knowing it was not for mortals. That's seriously heavy, for a psychopomp like Brigitte.
 
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Sword Dance (Girls Frontline)
A/N: For those 2 people unfamiliar with the series that still choose to read this, quick reference: Scarecrow and Executioner are enemy units in an AI controlled faction of hostile robots/cyborgs called Tactical-Dolls. They're basically the equivalent to the Abyssals from Kancolle, to reference a different gacha game. As much as I wanted to do something fluffy and cute and gay, the source material strong-armed me into doing something sorta gay but mostly cyberpunk instead.

Sword Dance (Girls Frontline)

Her hair smelled like smoke.

It was well past 0300 by the time she finished debriefing. Agent, true to form and ever flawless, had been perfectly groomed, her uniform crisp enough to show through the broadcast screen.

Scarecrow, who was depleted enough that the tips of her toes were actually brushing the catwalks as she hovered along, was not nearly so impeccable. The bands she used to tie her hair up were wearing out, one of the twintails sagging.

She felt lopsided.

Agent hadn't said anything, but her yellow eyes didn't miss anything. They never had.

Scarecrow grimaced and sped up.

The interior of the Sangvis outpost was nearly black. There were no open hatches, and she kept the ambient lights down to conserve power. SF dolls could all see in the dark, so it had been a matter of common sense.

Had part of her expected Agent to remark on the substantial reduction in energy since Scarecrow took over from Gager? Perhaps. Or maybe on her idea for the carpet of dormant dinergates that lay below the catwalk, ready to spring to life and deploy in case of intruders. Or…

She did not need praise. A doll would do as it was told. Agent did not need praise. She did her duty. Perfectly. Flawlessly. Forever.

Scarecrow had done her duty today, purging the last pockets of human resistance from two nearby towns. A part of her neural cloud was still humming, stretched out like wires to touch the squads of dolls and swarms of dinergates working to gather the towns' resources.

A more combat efficient doll could have possibly done the job more efficiently, or more quickly. She was a scout model, an information-gatherer, meant to be the eye in the sky that directed combat models into battle. But Executioner had gotten herself blown up, and Agent wasn't willing to commit more resources to an unimportant front. So it had fallen to Scarecrow. She was doing her best.

That had to count for something.

Scarecrow turned a corner, her repulsors humming faintly as they carried her down the hallway, deeper in the bunker that formed the core of the outpost.

She quashed any part of her thoughts that started wondering how quickly Agent could have cleared the towns, but the train of thought quickly redirected to even more ridiculous notions. How fast would Judge do it? Absurd. That walking fortress wouldn't stray from headquarters any more than Agent would.

At least they didn't have Architect doing it. That pyromaniac would have certainly done the job very quickly. As fast as she could drop a low-yield nuclear explosive on them, and damn the resources, surely.

Scarecrow smirked behind her mask, and put the thoughts behind her.

The final staircase into the bunker receded behind her, and she paused at the bulkhead to her quarters. The door was ajar, and a beam of light leaked into the corridor.

She pushed it open with a gloved hand.

The barracks were small. Two bedrooms, with a common area. The unadorned gray concrete of the bunker walls and ceiling were broken up by an ivy tangle of thick cables and cords running to various servers and computers along each wall.

Scarecrow frowned.

"What are you doing?"

Sangvis Ferri combat model SP524, better known as Executioner, looked up from a table strewn with a smashed jigsaw of mechanical parts and pieces. The lights were aimed at the table, and Executioner had a soldering iron in hand – her only hand. The other, detached, a massive, partially destroyed, metal claw, formed the bulk of the parts in front of her.

"Trying to do the actuator in my wrist."

Scarecrow hovered in place, her frown palpable enough even behind her mask that Executioner looked up.

"What?"

"You're supposed to be resting and conserving power. The dinergate repair models should be doing that." She turned and jabbed a finger into one of the screens that lined the walls, flashing past displays and graphs. "You've set back repair time by hours. Maybe days."

Executioner snorted. "The dinergates always fuck up the calibrations. They try to get me back to factory settings, and I end up stiff." She stretched, popping her spine, her arm reaching toward the ceiling. "I know you move as little as possible, but when you're swinging a 120 kilo sword, you need to stay loose."

Scarecrow moved to look over Executioner's shoulder. Most of the matte black armor plates that formed the exterior of her arm was put aside, and the interior was exposed. Contrary to most dolls, who had a roughly human endoskeleton and form, Executioner's sword arm was built more like a piece of industrial machinery. The interior was a complicated network of hydraulics and cabling, currently leaking both oil and coolant into a foul puddle beneath the table.

"You've made a mess of it."

"Oh shut it. It's my arm. I know how to fix it." Executioner glowered down at the arm in a way that made Scarecrow think something very much to the contrary. "Besides. The sooner I fix it, the sooner I can work on my legs."

They both looked down. Executioner's legs ended about halfway down the thigh, the more mechanical portions of her limbs missing, with only pale stubs of skin remaining. The interiors of her legs were exposed, cross-sectioned, starkly black and mechanical in contrast to the milky skin encasing them.

"Did you at least allow the dinergates to start rebuilding those?"

"Most of it?"

"Wonderful. I'm stuck doing your duties while you're laid up, and while you don't seem bothered by Griffon scrapping you, I prefer to remain intact."

Scarecrow sighed heavily. Her hair still stank of burning village, and though she didn't need sleep, a rest cycle would significantly help her fatigue level. A chik and then a low roar cut off her thoughts.

As though she could rest when Executioner was clattering about two meters away, now currently firing up a plasma cutter.

She sighed again.

And then shoved Executioner aside. The rolling chair she was on spun across the room, Executioner yelling, waving her arm ineffectually, plasma cutter nearly shearing off her bangs.

"You're in the way."

Scarecrow gestured. Her funnels, small semi-autonomous drones that clustered against her back when not in use, deployed. They were essentially just flying guns, little lasers shaped like two-pronged wedges. Another gesture, the funnels clustering and splitting like a school of fish.

"Don't break it!" Executioner shouted, shoving herself off the wall to roll back to the table.

"Quiet."

Scarecrow opened a schematic, the display running across her visual feed. She scanned it, paused, and then replaced the factory schematic of Executioner with a more recent one she'd made. No sense making the same mistake the dinergates apparently had. Not that she'd tell Executioner, or mention that she'd made an in-depth analysis of the other doll's parameters.

The lasers kicked in, narrowed to a hair-width. Gesture, her arms raised like a puppeteer. The beams swiveled, focusing. Metal heated. Sparks kicked up. Scarecrow started cutting, removing a damaged piston. The black metal was slow to heat, and she was forced to raise the power on the laser two notches before it began to redden.

A flick, and the beam separated the piston.

Scarecrow turned to the hand section. Some of the circuitry was burnt out, some was melted, but a good portion was intact enough to reuse.

"I can get that," Executioner said, leaning under Scarewcrow's outstretched arms to look closer. "That bit's non-essential anyway."

"How so?"

Her partner shrugged. "Alchemist said so. Always bitches up a storm about how my model wasn't made for surgery, so repairing the circuitry in my hand is a waste of materials."

"You don't need your hand?"

"Not like that." Executioner motioned with her remaining hand, moving it stiffly, robotically. "Those circuits transmit fine sensation and motor control. I can use my sword without them."

It was true that Executioner's sword hand wasn't well-articulated. The fingers were claws, essentially knives at the end of short, cabled fingers, and the palm was large enough that Scarecrow could have stood in it. For a sword that was closer to a chunk of iron than a blade, brute force was suitable.

Scarecrow continued repairing it.

"I've saved substantial resources by reducing our number of combat active dolls. We can afford to maintain you."

"Alchemist-"

"Alchemist is not here." Sparks crackled, scattering over the tabletop in a burst.

Executioner stayed silent, watching as Scarecrow soldered the circuits in her hand back together. She returned to working on the pistons in the wrist. The funnels were useful for cutting, but she hadn't gotten around to incorporating a magnetic grip into them. Another of Alchemist's cost-cutting ideas. It would have to be something Scarecrow created and could prove the value of, before she could bring the proposal to Agent.

There was nothing wrong with cost-reduction, per se, but it ought to be aimed at their infantry dolls, rather than ringleaders.

Scarecrow, continuing to lament her lack of magnetic funnels, reached out to tug a newly cut piston out.

"Hold it!" Executioner's hand closed around her wrist. She jerked her chin at the cherry red metal. "That's hot."

"I have gloves on."

Executioner snorted. "Gloves. What are those, silk? Your hands are delicate. Leave it to the combat model." She let go of Scarecrow, waggled her good hand – black metal like its opposite, though normally sized, and plucked the damaged piston out. Executioner rolled the part between her fingers and then flicked it across the room into a slag bin like she was discarding a cigarette.

Scarecrow eyed her. Executioner looked back.

Neither said anything further, and after a moment, Scarecrow returned to cutting. But as they worked, she'd pause periodically and allow Executioner to remove damaged components. They fell into a rhythm before long, working with a synchrony that reminded her of when they battled together.

The motions of cutting and soldering, locating and replacing, working through the arm as a duo were enough that Scarecrow lost track of time. She forgot her own exhaustion. There was only the task at hand.

A stubborn bit of hydraulic in Executioner's elbow proved to be the main sticking point. The internals had been both smashed and melted, forming a congealed mass of rubber, metal, and carbon, a tumor on the inside of the arm. The internals were so thoroughly ruined they'd need to be completely scrubbed out and replaced if the joint was going to be repaired.

"This bit is fucked," Executioner muttered. "I'll put in the order for a new one."

"Let me try."

Scarecrow focused fire on the mass, frowning as the armor plating melted into it stubbornly refused to cut free. She intensified the beams, the heat growing strong enough to feel against her face, her eyes watering against it.

The rubber and slag began melting, but the chunks of metal remained jammed in place. She could see parts of it now. The actuator from the inside of the elbow, a massive set of servos that controlled the force behind Executioner's swing.

And it. Just. Wouldn't. Budge.

Scarecrow narrowed her eyes and diverted power to the funnels. They circled, a halo of them hovering over the target. The beams were meant to punch through light armor at the maximum output. That she could perform fine work with them was a convenient coincidence. They weren't meant for it.

She shut down extraneous functions and process flows, amplifying her neural cloud. The feeds from her deployed dolls disappeared. Calculations and equations flashed behind her eyes. A temperature reading from the arm. Trajectories. Her fingers danced in place, halfway typing, halfway conducting. Bit by bit, the pieces of blockage fell away. Chipping away. The main block was still there.

More power. She needed more. This needed to be right.

Scarecrow diverted the last flow from her repulsors, rerouting it to the calculations. It-

Her feet touched the ground. Scarecrow did not walk. She hovered. It had been close to thirty-nine hours of continuous operation since she last stood upon the earth.

Her knees buckled.

"Ah-!"

Scarecrow toppled backwards. Her hands flew up and out, the funnels reacting. Red-pink energy beams swept up the far wall, burning concrete as they went. She had just enough forethought to turn them off before they severed the power cable, but none left to stop herself falling further.

An arm wrapped around her waist.

Executioner grunted, somehow holding herself in her chair with the nub of her severed arm, holding Scarecrow aloft with the good one.

Scarecrow gasped, cloud racing, her auxiliary functions coming back online. She stared at Executioner. The other doll's red eyes were on her.

"You..." Scarecrow stammered, her face suddenly hot.

Executioner gritted her teeth. "You're heavy. Stand up before I fall too."

"It- oh." She rebooted her repulsors, floating out of Executioner's embrace to return to her normal position a few millimeters above the ground.

Executioner leveled a flat gaze at her. "How long have you been awake?"

"Too long. But I can't rest if you're out here tinkering."

That earned her another flat stare.

"Go sleep."

"Not until this is done."

"Fucking fine," Executioner said, glowering now. "But you sit down. And I'll do the hard stuff."

Scarecrow huffed, but when Executioner didn't move, she finally floated over to sit in the other rolling chair.

They returned to the repairs. Scarecrow continued with her funnels, but less so now. Executioner took point, starting by tearing the blockage that had stymied Scarecrow out of the arm with a furious grunt. The lump of metal earned a contemptuous glare from both of them, and then it was thrown aside.

They worked in silence again for a few minutes. Executioner sorted through a box of parts and came out with a new rotating servo for the elbow.

"Will that work?" Scarecrow asked.

"It should. It's a newer model's part, but I'm new enough that it should be compatible."

"Useful."

She should have known as much. Executioner was a much more recent model than Scarecrow, so it would make sense she'd have some universal compatibility with other contemporary models.

Executioner fitted the servo into place, pointing at sections for Scarecrow to weld or solder.

"I was wondering somethin'," Executioner said, turning to her.

"Yes?" Scarecrow finished the line of solder before looking up.

"You usually fly everywhere. I was thinking about it earlier too, because of… ya know?" Executioner motioned towards the amputated stumps of her legs.

Scarecrow stared a moment, frowning behind her mask. The other doll was usually extremely mobile, so losing her legs had to be almost as hard as her precious sword arm. It hadn't occurred to her, but she'd lost her repulsors once or twice, and it had been awful.

"That must be… difficult," she said.

"Eh. I wanna say it's not a pain, but I usually get killed outright. This half-destroyed shit is a real pain in the ass. I'd rather just move my cloud into another body and scrap this one."

Scarecrow raised her eyebrows. "And leave me to manage the front all alone?"

"Nah. Wouldn't leave you to have all the fun." Executioner bumped her shoulder with her fist. "But I wanted to ask you. You fell over."

"Yes?"

There was a pause. Scarecrow eyed the other doll.

Executioner looked down, gathering a breath. "Do you have toes?"

One of her funnels crashed into another.

Scarecrow's jaw dropped, the mask digging into it.

"What."

Executioner pointed down at Scarecrow's feet. They were wrapped in armored, heeled boots, the tips pointed.

"I don't have toes," Executioner said. "They built my model with solid armored greaves all the way down. They look like shoes, but they're actually just armor. Wondered if you were the same."

Scarecrow rubbed the bridge of her nose. "What a stupid question. Why in the world does this matter?"

Honestly. Just when they were beginning to work in tandem again, the other doll had to remind her why the other ringleaders were such a constant source of frustration.

"Just curious." Executioner's grin was lopsided in a way that seemed uncomfortable. "I… just wondered, you know? Part of me remembers having toes at one point."

Scarecrow's hand dropped from her nose. She stared. "Part of you…? What are you talking about?"

There was a thick, leaden silence.

Executioner's eyes flitted up to hers, then away. "I- I shouldn't have said anything."

A flick of a finger, and a funnel bumped Executioner's chair to spin to face her. Scarecrow stood up, looming over the other as best she could. Sitting, Executioner was still nearly as tall as she was.

"Tell me. Are you keeping secrets?"

"No. I- it's nothing, really." Executioner still wouldn't look at her. She scratched a horn, her eyes downcast. "Just an old memory. Barely anything at all. Just something in my cloud."

Scarecrow lifted a hand. Her gloved fingers brushed Executioner's chin, forcing her to look up. Red eyes met yellow. "Tell. Me."

The other doll grimaced. "Fine. Fuck. It's not that big of a deal. Don't go all Agent on me." She sighed. "Okay. So I'm a 500-line model. I'm newer than you, double-digit."

It was true. Scarecrow was only SP65. She was, in Sangvis terms, original generation.

"Go on."

Executioner groaned. "Fuck. Just gonna make me say it, aren't you? Fine. We don't have the resources we used to. So a lot of the newer dolls are recycled civie models."

Oh. Oh.

Had Scarecrow not, this very day, captured a dozen civilian dolls from the towns, to be deactivated and scrapped for parts?

"I see… so your neural cloud is… recycled as well?"

Executioner shook her head. "No. I'm a Sangvis AI just like you, but…" Her hand pressed against her chest. "It's like part of this doll remembers before."

She stared down at Executioner, running the thought over in her head. They were all artificial intelligences operating gynoid bodies, but the idea of there being… almost like an echo. A ghost of the ghost in the machine.

Discomfiting.

"Look. It's not a big deal," Executioner said, but her eyes were wide, her usual smile stiff. "Don't go telling Agent or they'll wipe this iteration of my cloud entirely."

Scarecrow pressed her finger into Executioner's chin again, forcing her to raise her head a bit higher. She turned the other doll's head from left to right, examining her.

It was likely true that this iteration of Executioner would get wiped back a couple backups to prevent mental deviation from the standard. No one needed a rampant combat AI. This… would it be called contamination? Corruption? This version's deviance was a risk if it continued. Deviant intelligences was how you got defective freaks like the Griffon models.

Dolls that were consumed with emotionality, with wildly variant personalities and quirks. Dolls that were many and varied, but also wildly diverse in effectiveness. Wild cards, for good and bad. For every standout success, every M4A1 or ST-AR15, there was a counterpoint, an emotive, labile, useless mess like A-91 or CX4.

"Scarecrow. You know me. You know this doesn't change anything."

Executioner was down to one limb. Scarecrow controlled all the connections and networking in the base.

Executioner was at her mercy.

Scarecrow eyed her. Griffon AIs were little better than repurposed civilian models in most cases. Their neural clouds were fevered, malformed. She had taken enough apart to know them inside and out. There was nothing intelligent about them.

It disgusted her.

A flick of her wrist, and the funnels circled, schooling around her, red lenses blinking as they pointed at Executioner.

Executioner sagged in her chair, her face drawn. "Fuck. I know you. I know you've never bent the rules for anything."

"These memories. What do you see?"

Executioner stiffened, seeming to expect Scarecrow to pull the trigger any moment.

"Just- just flashes. Little stuff. Things will remind me, and I'll remember. Like, I remembered feet because the doll I was went to the beach once. Felt the sand on her feet. I think. And… other things. Normal hands. A different face. Places I've never been."

A pause. A deep breath.

"She was different than I was. Sillier. Less focused. Kind of stupid. But it wasn't… I don't think it was all bad. She experienced things a combat doll never would. But- for what it's worth, Scarecrow, I enjoy working with you. I like you a shitload more than most of the others. Even Hunter. I do a better job with you calling the shots."

Executioner swallowed, gathering herself. "Fuck it. I like being a Sangvis better, because it meant I got to meet you. Shoot me, report me, I don't care."

She squeezed her eyes shut, stiff as iron in the chair.

Scarecrow's gaze swept over the other, across her tensed face, down onto the table. Executioner's half-repaired arm. A broken funnel she hadn't fixed yet. A line of melted metal where her lasers had jerked across it when she fell earlier. Where Executioner caught her. She followed the line across the room.

Their quarters.

She sighed, and snapped her fingers. The funnels whirred, then flitted back to the tabletop. Executioner winced, jaw clenching, and then when nothing happened, opened her eyes.

Scarecrow met them. "I don't feel like devoting the time to training another iteration of you." She smirked. "It took me this long to beat your bad habits out of you."

Executioner exhaled. "You're fucking scary sometimes, Scarecrow."

"Thank you." Her gloved hand rose, past Executioner's chin to pat her on the head. "And, just for the record, I enjoy our partnership as well, imperfect as it may be."

She tousled the other doll's hair before turning sharply and floating toward her quarters. "I am going to sleep. Please keep the noise down." She paused in the doorway. "And to answer your question, Executioner, I don't have toes. But feel free to kiss my boots sometime."

Executioner's grin followed her into the darkness.


===

A/N: Fuck OFF, writer's block. This came to me suddenly and I popped it out in two sessions. Which, considering my average (non-existent) speed, is amazing.

I wanted to do something with Scarecrow for a while, and there's 3 or 4k words of a different draft of Scarecrow/Sopmod that gets really smutty and really violent, but this felt a bit more restrained.

It's not quite as gay or as existential as I would like it to be, but I desssperately need to publish something.

For the record, I'm aware that the Sangvis Ferri serial numbers likely don't work the way I have them here, because Agent is like 47, and Alchemist is 7. But I liked the idea of their product lines being different generations, so there it is. The whole recycled civie dolls thing is just my headcanon, but I feel it makes a certain amount of sense. Dolls would just be another resource to SF.
 
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Azazel (Worm)
Azazel



The night before, she vomits.

The relief of holiday break and the subdued joy of another too-quiet Christmas gives way to nerves and nausea by December 26th​. Tension growing day by day, hour by hour, a rising tide.

By January 2nd​, the back to school anxiety has her stomach rumbling, a migraine pressing her eyes out of her skull. She makes it until her father snores in his half-cold bed, then that rising tide bursts up and out and homecooked dinner comes slurrying up in a red-brown wave.

Her sinuses clog. Her eyes water, and part of her can't stop laughing at the idea that these are the first tears she's produced in months. The bloodshot, clammy creature in the mirror reaches over and turns out the light so she doesn't have to look at the herself. The sight would make her sick again.

There is no catharsis, no relief accompanying this release of pressure. She goes to bed stiff as a board, with an empty stomach still churning acid.

XXX​

The first day back is quietly miserable. But it is a collective misery. Someone has flooded every bathroom on the east side of the building, all three floors and the locker rooms, and the usual musty hallway scent has given way to damp mildew and shit.

A few of her usual tormentors are present, swearing under their breath as they skirt puddles on the floor and hold their noses, but only in passing. She manages to lose herself in the pilgrimage of grousing travelers making their way to the remaining bathrooms, and everyone is too busy being pissed off at what a dump Winslow is to pay her any attention.

The tiny, fragmented hope from before the holidays rekindles. They ignored her for almost all December, and now this. Maybe they've finally tired of her. It buoys her just enough to make the first half of the day bearable.

It's only as third period ends and lunch begins that she realizes the real conundrum: the bathrooms she usually haunts are still flooded swamps of toilet paper, and the remainder have theme park-length lines.

It's too cold to eat outside on a bench. The snow has come, and the cracked windows and propped open doors in the corridors meant to vent the sewer stink are letting in bitingly frigid air.

She looks between those doors and the lunch room. Warm, but crowded, the masses inside surprisingly happy as they reconnect after the break. Some measure of good cheer seems to have lingered from Christmas. It would be easy to get lost in those crowds again. Eat her lunch and move on.

She slips out the door and sits on the bench anyway. The metal chills through her pants, and her eyes ache as the jelly inside threatens to freeze.

Her lunch tastes funny. Like the tuna sandwich has turned. Probably a consequence of breathing in noxious fumes all day and then flash-freezing her sinuses shut in the cold. That seemed like a thing that could happen.

Her bottled water is worse, and it's only after she downs half of it that she thinks to wonder if the cap was sealed. Had it made the characteristic plastic snap as she turned it? The taste is off. Like the year they'd all gone on vacation to Michigan and Emma had steadfastly refused to drink the sulfurous, Great Lakes water. Is there an odd, oily sheen to the remaining water, or is she imagining it? A chunk of bread from backwash floats there, shedding particulate crumbs like sawdust. She eyes it.

Her stomach lurches. She pours the water out.

It's turned to ice before she stands up.

Had she let her bag out of her sight? Had they tampered with it? They weren't usually that clever. Not so subtle. There hadn't been any of the snickers, the knowing smiles as they waited for her to see what they'd done.

She stops. Brushes crumbs from her shirt.

If she keeps thinking about it, she's going to throw up again.

The thought of having to puke in one of the mobbed, over-stressed bathrooms is enough to quell any possibility. Vomiting in the halls would be less public.

She goes back inside.

XXX
Her mother is- was allergic to mushrooms. Once, when Taylor was young, she'd eaten a slice of the wrong type of pizza at a work party and gotten so sick they'd had to leave. It wasn't fatal or dangerous for her, just miserable.

When she'd asked her mother what it felt like, she'd described it like a shiver.

A full-body shiver, a crawling in the throat and skin as the immune response kicked into gear to say something was wrong. She'd known within thirty seconds of taking that first bite. After the shiver came pain, a stabbing throb in the lower back as her kidneys went into overdrive.

Taylor had thought about her mother getting very sick a lot as a kid. What-ifs. What if her mother got sick and had to go to the hospital? What if Taylor was allergic to anything?

They'd never gotten her tested.

She doesn't think she is.

But her heart starts beating ten minutes into Algebra. Not frantically. Just rising up from that barely felt, hardly noticed sensation in the back of the mind to a steady throb that sends her palms sweating and vibrates the nerves in her teeth.

She swallows drool and wipes her hands on her jeans.

No one looks at her.

Her face is hot. A blush, like she's snuck one too many sips of wine at the Barnes' Christmas Party. The capillaries opening up, blood spreading.

Mr. Gladly finishes his spiel on Cold War Europe and begins talking about their homework. Someone walks by in the hallway and rattles the door in its frame. The rattling continues even after the person is gone, the door jangling merrily.

No one looks at her as she sweats and salivates and her nerves tighten into steel coils beneath her skin.

No one looks. She watches them. Out of the corners of her eyes, surveying the room for anyone watching her back. Anyone knowingly looking. Laughing at her behind their lips.

She looks and looks, and only when she looks back at the front of the room does she realize Gladly isn't there at all. It's Mr. Quinlan. Talking in Gladly's unctuous voice.

She blinks, and her eyelids feel gummy. It's too hard to concentrate when her heartbeat is vibrating her skull.

She shakes her head, and the fog clears a bit. Quinlan-Gladly becomes just Quinlan again.

It was the water. It had to have been the water.

She needs. She needs to go home.

XXX​

Her path out of the school is a straight shot. Down the hall from Quinlan's classroom, down the stairs, down the path, down the downstairs hallway, down the down the – the hallway. Down the hallway. Out the side door. Down the hallway and out the door.

Down the hallway from Quinlan's and-

Past her locker.

The fecal scent of the bathrooms has receded somewhat, but there's something in the air as she leaves Quinlan's on legs that are too long and too short. She can't stop swallowing, sucking her lips in for fear of slivers of spit escaping the corners of her mouth, showing everyone else that she's coming apart. If they see that they'll see her eyes bugging out of her skull, her hair electrifying, coming alive at the roots and-

She shakes her head.

The hallway telescopes a bit, but she walks into it.

The stink grows.

Something rotten. Iron.

A crash and she jumps, a yelp bursting past her clenched lips. A boy has slammed a fist into his locker door. Is it stuck? It must be a stuck door. No one noticed her though.

He hammers his fist against it as she stilts away, the banging following down the corridor.

Into the scent.

Has something died in the second floor bathroom?

Someone?

Her locker bloc approaches, sliding down the wall as she stands still – head shake. No. She walks toward it.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Hand on metal.

A second set of fists joins it. A third. A- a many more hands join in. The drumming of hands follows her as she comes parallel with her locker.

The door is open.

Painted nails dance and tap against it. Emmadisophia smiles at her, faces bleeding into one another.

She stops. The locker moves toward her. It's in her path. It is full of filth. It is- it is- everything terrible is inside that metal box.

Hands catch her shoulders and tug her backpack away. She lets it go with boneless arms.

The drumming of hands matches her heartbeat. Rattles her bones.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

She tries to say something to Emma, swallows drool and pushes the words forth, but what comes out is only an anemic burp, then half a sob.

The hands push. The locker pulls.

She goes in.

XXX​

They keep drumming as the door shuts. And then drum some more.

Her hands join the beat on the inside of the door.

It is hot and humid, and there is no boundary between where her skin begins and the insects end and the filth begins and the rot never ends.

She can't start screaming because she hasn't stopped screaming yet.

XXX​

They don't pull her out until she stops sobbing.

The door opens and cool, blessedly cool air finds her stagnant skin. Fills her empty lungs. Hands a hundred hands find her and drag her forth, limbs unfolding from a bloody cocoon and trailing a raiment of filth behind her.

Something damp and cold touches her brow, and she jerks and cracks a ruined hand against the doorframe. Her eyes open.

Emma daubs her with a damp rag once more.

She wears white. It's a gown from a photo in the Barnes' living room. Emma wears her mother's wedding dress and smiles serene and calm and beautiful and not even the way her outline melts into the background, the lace pattern of her dress spreading across her skin like ivy can detract from it.

You did so well. Come on now. Just a bit more.

The hands raise her up, and Julia leads a donkey a jackal a lamb a- a- head shake. Julia leads a donkey on a tether. The hands place Taylor atop it, and Julia directs them forth.

The hallway is transfigured, the fluorescents broken and darkened, the windows open, candles lining the path ahead.

Everyone is there. Everyone and all them. A mass of masses and faces and always the hands not drumming now, but pointing, clapping, drawing signs in the air.

They applaud her as the donkey clops its way through the corridor.

How a donkey descends stairs, she misses. The world smears and spins, her own perspective unable to decide on a spot behind her eyes, exchanging near and far, watching some scenes at a great distance.

She thinks she laughs at the Donkey Descending the Stairs, c. 2011, oil painting. Or perhaps that's another trick of perspective, the colors flattening and distorting, turning the crowds following her, the procession into a tableau.

There is a procession, that is surety. The whole school following her. There's a marching band. The trumpets and deep bass drums and the rattling snare form a cheery march as they set the time for her marche au supplice.

The hallway walls open and fall away and she finds herself in the dim tile tunnel to the school pool. It's in the basement. Subterranean. Chlorinated enough to burn the nostrils, and the tiles keep swapping places with each other in the walls.

The school chorus, though there aren't many of them, start in. She didn't think Winslow had a school song, but they sing one now. And the crowd joins in. A hundred thousand voices echoing in the tunnel, singing as one, never missing a beat, the donkey joins in Taylor joins in everyone joins in.

She's slurring, choking on her spit, on the blood from a face smashed against the locker walls and lips chewed like some novocained idiot, but she's slurring along with the song and-

and

Why?

She shakes her head.

No. This is- this is not right.

Everything hurts. She hates them. Hates this place. Hates this spectacle. This can't be right can't be real. If she could just think for a moment and-

The doors draw back like theater curtains.

The crowd rings the school pool. Faded banners hang from the rafters, emblazoned with the names of the few passable swimmers the school has managed to produce, now painted over with new names done in neon poster paint.

The banners now read: T. Hebet. T. Herbert. T. Hebeart.

That isn't right. Her name is- is is is…

Taylor, Emma says. Her gloved hand brushes clotted hair from T. Hebet's face.

It's time.

There are rings to the pool crowd. Concentric circles in this new solar system.

The outer-most are boys. Young men in their finest red and green and red and black and black and blue, their eyes lovingly blindfolded with ribbon, their bodies turned away, never to see this. Hands clasped at their backs, never to be lifted.

Only one boy faces inward. Heads shorter than the men at his left and right, weak chin quivering. What's his name? Greg… Vebert? Close enough. The laugh that comes at this thought is faltering.

A thought breaks through the haze. Draws her back up to the surface.

Greg is the Witness. He watches and sees and ogles and spectates and voyeurs, and with his mouth stuffed full of garlic and ashes, he says nothing.

The next ring is girls. In their Sunday finest, elbows linked, faces painted and smeared and cakes with crimson lipstick at eye, ear, and mouth, their hair cut short and jagged and it's her finest feature, they've ruined her hair, haven't they?

They look at her as one and smile. And she hates them dearly. For doing this to her. For being everything that she is not. For being happy when she is not.

The haze clears a bit further. She shakes her head, clotted hair slapping her cheeks. Why is any of this happening? She tries to tug the donkey to a halt, but Julia tuts and leads it to the final ring.

Winslow's faculty stand at the very edge of the pool. They wear only flower crowns, and their nudity is somehow less upsetting than these dainty coronets of hyssop and stargazer lily.

She tries to speak, and finds she's bitten through her tongue at some point, and the words come as a gurgle.

The donkey halts at the poolside.

Hands tug her down from the mount, and she lands in a puddle, filth bleeding off her feet to Rorschach along the pool deck. Principal Blackwell, body painted and runed with India ink and dry erase marker, meets her there.

Thank you for coming, she says. Peace be with you.

And also with you, the crowd speaks as one.

Taylor finds a word of her own. Finally. Why?

Blackwell motions to the crowd. To the school around them. There needs to be an outlet. A way to release the tension. A scapegoat for all the many wrongs done here. And you were right here waiting. We just had to tear up your transfer slips, turn a blind eye. Barely anything at all. It was enough to give Miss Barnes free-rein.

She draws back. Finally finds her footing and regains function in her legs. Turns to run.

The many hands find her first. Rope slithers and tightens around her wrists and ankles. It is simultaneously slick and itchy, and upon second glance is multicolored braids, black and brown and and and blonde and she knows where the girls' locks have gone.

They've made themselves ropes.

The noose that goes round her throat is mostly red hair.

Blackwell pats her cheek. Now now, Miss Herbert. This is a once in a lifetime career opportunity.

I didn't choose this, she shouts back.

You didn't choose anything until now, so why would this be any different? She smiles, lips inked black stretching wide. Did you have agency in any of the suffering wrought on you? Did you choose to live these mistakes? Of course not. You were the perfect, passive little hatesink. Your suffering is for us.

I don't understand. She's started crying at some point. Sheer frustration at her own stupidity overruling fear. She'd never understood any of it. Any of them.

Blackwell pats her cheek again and pushes her on.

There are steps into the pool.

Madison stands at the first. She wears a doe mask, and holds a candle in her hands. Her gown is pale green, the color of new spring.

If it wasn't you, it was me, she says, and her smile can barely be called that. Thank you.

She snuffs the candle and presses a kiss to Taylor's cheek. Comes away with muck on her lips.

The hands drag Taylor to the first step. Cold water covers her ankles.

Sophia stands at the second step. She wears a panther mask, and carries a bundle of arrows bound with incongruous pink ribbon. Her gown is black, funerary.

It was never personal, she says, and for once doesn't sound bored with Taylor. You get to be a hero, get to do some good for the world. It was more than you would have done if left alone.

She snaps the arrows over her knee and tugs Taylor's head down. Her breath against her forehead, the kiss there firm. Sophia licks the blood from her lips.

The next step down. Water rises above her knee. Her jeans are soaking it in.

Emma stands on the final step, still in her mother's wedding gown. She wears no mask, and perhaps that is its own mask. She carries a flute.

It hurt me to hurt you, she says. She leans in for the kiss, and Taylor spits in her face.

Fuck you.

Emma smiles sadly and blows a reedy note on a flute that is not hers.

A forced, final step down.

Water to her waist, filth leaking off her.

Blackwell steps to the edge of the pool and raises a silver dagger in one hand.

To the dawn of the new year, she intones, and slashes her palm. Three drops of blood fall into the pool.

As one, the faculty repeat the act. Their blood joins hers. They step back, opening ranks for the girls. They shed no blood, only point to Taylor, and she realizes that the blood they've soaked-marinated-bathed her in was theirs to begin with.

The boys shed blood clumsily, without looking.

The pool is turning a watery crimson, a school's worth of blood coloring it drop by drop.

Take on our burdens, Blackwell calls.

And bear our sins, the crowd replies.

Sophia murmurs something behind her, and then tugs the ropes tight around Taylor's limbs. The final tie is around her knees. A hobble.

Emma's hand alights upon her shoulder, and then squeezes it. Just once.

Goodbye, she whispers.

Emma pushes.

The last thing she sees before she goes in is her mother, standing waist-high in the sea of red. She wears an owl mask and holds out a hand.

She is bound hand and foot. Weighed down with the entire school's sins, heavier than lead.

She flails.

Struggles.

Screams a stream of bubbles.

Distorted faces look through the water's surface.

They like this.

They catalog every second of her pain.

And just as she thinks to stand up – she's in the shallow end – Emma steps into the pool with her.

Her sister's hands hold her under the water.

Taylor stops struggling.


XXX​

Well, this is weird and self-indulgent, and was spawned in its entirety by a random comment on reddit about Taylor being the scapegoat for Winslow. I took that to its illogical conclusion and basically ripped off Wicker Man while I was at it.

I cranked this out in its entirety in basically one sitting, and while I do have ideas for a much more focused and unpleasant version about Taylor walking in on her father with a gun in his hand, having a psychotic break and doing things like trying to replace her mother at Christmas by dressing up as her, leading into the weird sequence at Winslow where it's treated as more psychological horror where it's unclear what's real and what's delusion before it's made clear that yes, they really are sacrificing her, I also didn't anticipate ever writing wormfic again, and if I stop to try and plan and outline, I'll lose momentum and interest like I always do and neither this nor that other idea will ever get posted. Like, I tried reworking it and could literally feel myself losing interest in the project as I took it apart.

This ended up being all my ideas mushed together into a weird fever dream, and I don't consider it super successful at anything beyond being weird. The is-Taylor-drugged element is lazy drug trip nonsense, and while I had fun with the prose, it is very self-indulgent. It could have been a solid A- horror fic if I'd reworked it, but I just don't want to do that. I'm fine with a C-grade fic in this case.

The bits about crowds of faceless observers fetishizing Taylor's suffering... I have some unkind thoughts about some parts of this fandom, despite being just as guilty in some aspects. I tried to keep that from overwhelming that segment, but it still feels a bit heavy-handed. ...this whole fic is heavy-handed.

Don't expect me to write any more wormfic though. This was a massive surprise.
 
Does Your Skin Hang Low? (SV Lyric Game 2021 Contest Entry)
My entry for the SV 2021 Lyric RPG contest:

Does Your Skin Hang Low?

...if you're like me, and had never heard of Lyric RPGs before this contest, and you're not sure what they are... Well, judging from all the ones on itch.io, they're sort of dreary, sort of tongue in cheek games about being a queer creator creating a sort of dreary rpg. I say this with maximum hypocrisy, being a queer creator submitting exactly that sort of game to a contest for money to spend on rpg gamebooks.
 
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