When the Night Broke
By Hannah Davenport (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Summary: Sequel to "Bent" and "Twisted." Five years later, Ginny is a bored and very depressed employee at Flourish and Blotts. Outside her drawn-in, little world lies an evil overlord of doom by the name of Radoc Lafoym, who is threatening society. How do they relate?
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. It's just fan fiction!
Author's Note: This is very important! Radoc isn't going soft for Ginny. What you see in the following is just psychopathic evil-man thoughts. Okay? Got it? Good. One last thing; chapters are likely to be shorter, as my Mum has been invading my writing time to play internet games, which she is now somewhat addicted to. ::grumbles about MSN making their games so obvious to the public eye:: Gotta go make rabid squirrels out of pipe-cleaners. Thanks to everyone for their wonderful feedback!
< >It was a beautiful room. Very well constructed, with a shimmering quality about the walls. He wasn't surprised. He guessed this room had been put together for the very purpose of holding the Mirror of Erised. It made more sense that way - for, why on earth would someone create a room this intricate to hold unimportant teaching junk?
< >He peered around, his hands behind his back in classic, businesslike position. There were no windows, and no candles. But the walls seemed to hold some sort of light of their own. There was also no mirror to be seen. He smirked, raising an eyebrow predictably.
< >"I have to search for it," he said to no one in particular. "How clichéd."
< >He immediately began looking under, around, behind, and above the things in the room. Chairs, desks, blackboards, etcetera. Then he checked for loose bricks in the floor. He performed a spell to see if the mirror had been Transfigured into another object - a small marble, perhaps - but found no luck there, either. He checked all the stones in the wall as well, but found no secret passageway or trapdoor.
< >"I've done everything in my power..." he muttered, looking perplexedly around the room. It wasn't an expression he wore often.
< >But if there's a secret passageway, a voice in his head said. It's going to be secret. What do secret passageways look like?
< >"Anything," he replied to himself.
< >Then there are hundreds of things that could be secret passageways in here, that you still haven't checked!
< >His eyes seemed to focus on one thing, in particular. A pair of triangular glasses were sitting in a corner, the lenses cracked. Getting an idea, he walked over to them, bent down, and picked them up.
< >They were attached to a metal rod, which came out of a small hole in the floor as he lifted them. Slowly - one by one - the bricks beneath his feet began to tremble, and then disintegrate - and he found himself falling down into darkness so black it felt as though he had been enveloped in soot, tar, lava rock, coal, and black paint.
< >He smiled broadly to himself. He was at home in this kind of atmosphere.
< >There was nothing in Wands: Who Needs 'Em? or in Quick Spells for the Weary and Wandless. Ginny supposed these books had all been written by people who wanted to be impressive and extravagant, and wondered how many people like that the world could hold.
< >She sighed, and closed Spells to Use When Your Wand is Cracked, Twisted, and Hopelessly Broken.
< >"I just don't understand," she said quietly. "Why is there nothing that can help me? It's almost as if they took away all the books I need, because I'm supposed to stay here. But I don't want to stay here!" She sighed again, and put her head down on the table.
< >"Looking for something?" said a voice.
< >She sat up immediately, and looked around. She saw who had spoken, and what she was looking for... although it was a very unappetizing situation in which she now found herself.
< >He landed on the floor, crouched in a panther-like position, and looked around. This room was completely opposite from the first one. There were candles in brackets on the walls, and the room was dusty and grayish-looking. But, he found what he was after immediately.
< >There, in a far corner, was a large black tarp. Except, it had fallen off of one corner of the thing it was covering.
< >"Oh, they'll never guess it's under the tarp, Dumbledore..." he muttered wryly.
< >He walked forward, not bothering with any of the traditional sighs of awe and wonderment or bowing before it. It wasn't a god, and not all traditional things are worthwhile, he reasoned.
< >When he reached it, he pulled out one wand, and levitated it into the middle of the room. And then, he removed the cover, and stepped before it.
< >What he saw was unexplainable.
< >"Who are you?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.
< >The tall, thin man folded his arms, and raised a black eyebrow. He looked slightly disappointed. "You don't know?" he asked, his very shiny eyes looked intrigued. There was a pause. He sighed, and bowed deeply, so that his forehead almost touched the ground. "Mortimer Lestrange, Madam," he said calmly, although Ginny could tell he was perturbed.
< >She glanced briefly at he book he had in his clutches Wands are for Squares. "Why are you here?" she continued to question, feeling her hands shake and hiding them behind her chair.
< >"Well," Mortimer Lestrange began, walking forward and sitting down across from her. "I was actually on my way to visit an old friend of mine down in the Great Hall..."
< >Ginny swallowed. It had to be Professor Snape, and you never knew what "a little visit" could mean...
< >"...But I heard you talking, and I thought 'Well, I can delay my visit to see what our prisoner is doing,' and now I'm very glad I have." He smiled wickedly, looking at the titles of the books scattered across the table. "Thinking of escape, are you, young Weasley?"
< >"Perhaps," she replied, in a tone much braver than she felt at the moment.
< >"Aah, defiance." he chuckled. "Yes, there seemed to be a lot of that in that - ah - wrestling match you and my boss got into, eh?" He said this quite matter-of-factly.
< >"Did you see?" she asked, feeling a bit nervous now. If this man had viewed that and not gotten his head knocked off by Radoc Lafoym.... This wasn't good.
< >"No," he replied. "Radoc told me. Great - er - friends, he and I."
< >Even worse.
< >He was looking at his reflection - but it wasn't his reflection. But it was... This was all very puzzling to him, and he stepped away quicker than he had stepped forward. The surface of the mirror was once again blank. He leaned toward it slightly, and once again saw the reflection that belonged to him, but wasn't him. He moved back, and looked at the mirror's frame.
< >It was gold, ornate, and dusty, which he had expected. And there was also the engraving people had talked about. The engraving that made no sense to anyone who had viewed this mirror. But it made sense to him.
< >Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi ... I show not your face but your hearts desire.
< >"Clever," he mumbled. "Mirror writing on a mirror frame. Very Clever indeed... But what about this hearts desire bit? Do they mean deepest, or simply one you let everyone know?"
< >He took another look at his reflection, and answered that question. Then, quite suddenly, he got another brilliant idea. All he had to know was what she wanted most in the world. After all, if you knew someone's deepest, most desperate desire, you very nearly controlled them. It was all so simple...
< >Mortimer Lestrange glanced at a pocket-watch he had pulled from the pocket of his vest.
< >"I'd better be going," he said swiftly. "They should have restricted the vampires by now... They were having a bit of a snack, I guess."
< >Ginny distinctly felt her stomach lurch. How disgustingly cruel... she thought bitterly.
< >"But I'll just leave you this, shall I?" he added, dropping Wands are for Squares on the table in front of her. "Just, don't tell old Radoc, alright?"
< >She nodded numbly, taking the book into her hands, and he strode out of the library at a very quick pace.
< >She didn't know why he would give her a book that might help her, but Ginny decided she might as well give it a try. So she opened it to the Table of Contents, and read:
Chapter one: Cooking Spells.........................................................1
Chapter two: Repair Spells...........................................................45
Chapter three: Childcare Spells.....................................................68
Chapter four: Sewing Spells..........................................................106
Chapter five: Gardening Spells......................................................134
Chapter six: Beauty Spells............................................................193
Chapter seven: Miscellaneous.........................................................267
< >She quickly flipped to page 267, and searched the pages for something that might be useful. And then she stopped at page 299, which had the heading SPELLS FOR ODD AND TRICKY SITUATIONS. But, from then to page 348 was torn out except for page headers, and Ginny vaguely wondered how on earth she had managed to get her hopes up.
< >"Mortimer likes strange tricks like that, you must understand."
< >She jumped, and found Radoc standing behind her, leaning against a bookcase.
< >"What are you doing here?" she asked sharply.
< >"You need to come with me, Virginia." he said quietly. "There's something you need to see."
< >"What is it?" she continued. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what I'm getting into."
< >She was really beginning to get on his nerves. "Just come with me, before I have to stun you," he snapped, stepping towards her.
< >"Okay," she squeaked, cowering.
< >He realized his hand was raised and ready to strike her if she refused. He put it down quickly, and swept out of the library, first making sure that she was following him. He led her back to his office, and once she had entered, he closed the door with the wave of his hand.
< >"Please, sit down," he said, gesturing towards a chair in front of his desk. She sat, and he paced the floor behind his desk.
< >"What is this about?" she asked timidly.
< >He stopped pacing, and sat down in his chair, kicking his feet onto the desk so that his shiny black Oxfords glinted in the dim light of the room.
< >"What do you want?" he asked, looking at her intently.
< >"Excuse me?" she replied, her eyebrows raising.
< >"What do you want?" he repeated. "What do you wish for more than anything else in the world? What is your deepest, most heart-felt desire for this life?"
< >She looked at him, her eyebrows still raised and her glasses sitting crookedly on the bridge of her nose. "Why?" she asked suspiciously.
< >He sighed, and snapped his fingers. Two men brought in the Mirror of Erised, and set it in the middle of the room, facing Radoc, but he didn't look at its surface. He got up from his chair, and stood to one side of it.
< >"Get over here," he said calmly.
< >She did, but she was looking at him rather than at the mirror. "What on earth is this?" she asked in a small voice, as though she knew already.
< >"You'd know, if you looked at it." he quipped, still standing safely to one side.
< >She turned to look at the mirror, taking the hint, and gasped. He crossed slowly behind her, then checked that his wand was inside his robes, and stepped forward. He put his hands on her shoulders. She shivered.
< >"I have a proposition for you," he said, a cruel smile on his face.
< >"And what might that be?" she asked, staring, transfixed, at the mirror. Because there was no way this could be possible. No way at all...
< >"Join me," he said firmly, increasing the pressure on her shoulders. "And I will make whatever you see in there happen."
< >She scraped up all that was left of her resolution, and turned to face him. "What?" she asked, feeling of two minds. On the one hand, she was horrified and disgusted that he thought she would join him. And on the other, she was completely bedazzled by the thought that what she saw might come true.
< >"It won't be a king and queen organization," he reassured her. "But, you really should consider what will happen if you refuse me, and if you accept me."
< >"What?" she repeated, feeling that she could barely say anything else.
< >"Well, if you refuse, you die," he stated quite plainly, giving her a rather appraising look. "But, what good will that do? Countless others have died at my hands, and after you, countless others will continue that grand process. What does that do for you, or the rest of the world? You'll just be another dead body lying six feet underground, a simple comma in the book of history."
< >She took a moment to digest this little speech, her ears ringing with Radoc's words. Death. Well, that was an interesting conception. Up till now, she hadn't thought about it much, only the occasional whispered prayer that Mr. Lafoym wouldn't kill her. But, she remembered, Draco was dead. She could die and go and be with him...
< >"But if you accept," he said, his cold voice dropping to a whisper as he took a step closer. "Well then, little girl, you'll have everything you could possibly want out of your dull, bitter, pessimistic life. You'll have friends, you'll have the finest vodka that can be conjured, you'll have someone to obey and worship, and you'll have your beloved Malfoy back. I realize this may not be a paradisiacal option," he added, looking right at her, his hands still firmly on her shoulders. "But if faced with these two choices, death or power, I would say the latter would be the most fulfilling."
< >"That's because you're evil..." she whispered back, unaware of why they were whispering.
< >"Point taken," he smirked. "You would probably die rather than serve me. That way, you could go and live in wherever it is you two would after death." He paused, leaning down so that he and she were eye-level. "But you have to remember you can't get married or have children when you're dead."
< >She looked back into his cold gray eyes, feeling almost guilty. Her mind was now a jumble of thoughts, ideas that had been pressed on her since she was small. And also new ones that had recently been shoved through her ear and gotten stuck halfway through her brain's processing of them. The gray of his eyes had found its way into her mind, and now she couldn't tell the difference between right and wrong, stupid and clever, creepy and friendly, and all those other things she would need so badly in this situation.
< >She couldn't win on physical force. That much she knew. She needed brainpower, and a scheme... But that looked unattainable.
< >"Sleep on it," he insisted, still in a whisper. "I'm sure you'll come to your senses. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to make preparations for tomorrow's expedition. We'll need you in the entrance hall at half-past nine."
< >And with that, he straightened, finally let go of her shoulders, and walked to the door. He paused, his hand on the doorknob, and turned to face her once again. "I'll just leave you two to visit," he added, in a way that suggested understanding, and a sneer.
< >And it didn't help to unboggle Ginny's brain.
< >Delicate mind. Unpolluted memory. Pure intent. Kind heart. Intricately intelligent.
< >He quickly crumbled the piece of paper he was writing on, and looked up to see who had spoken. It was Mortimer Lestrange, looking anxious, which was very rarely a good thing.
< >"Is everything ready?" Radoc asked, staring hard at the man in the doorway.
< >"Um, ye - yes." Mortimer replied carefully. "The Death Eaters have gathered in the Great Hall for a torture session - apparently some of the students survived the Vampire attack. I was just going to join them, when I realized Miss Weasley was in the entrance hall waiting for you. So I told her I would just come up here and... What is the matter with you?"
< >Radoc sighed, standing up. "This is getting very boring to me," he lied smoothly. "I'm going to try and get this over with as soon as possible, and then we'll move on to a bigger project, like mass Muggle and Muggle-born killings. You still have those lists, I assume?"
< >"Er, yes..."
< >"Good, good. Well, I'd best be off. I'd hate to leave precious little Virginia alone for too long," he said. "Something bad could happen." His definition of bad was something he didn't want.
< >He made his way to the entrance hall, apprehension ethereally floating through his brain. And when he finally got there and saw her, he nearly had a heart attack.
< >She was wearing some Gryffindor robes, for one thing. And for another, she was poking Macnair in the chest and shouting at him viciously. Radoc was very reluctant to take even a step closer, because of what she was screaming.
< >"And although I can't imagine it, you were a child once, too! How would YOU feel if someone came in and beat you for no imaginable reason! Barbaric! All of you are so - so - there's not even a word horrible and revolting enough for you! You're all filthy scoundrels, and may you all die a prolonged and very painful death when my brother catches you!"
< >He approached with caution. "Walden," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Are you simply going to stand here and take this? She's only a girl..."
< >"You're all vile, foul, disgusting, horrible -"
< >She stopped, because Radoc had taken the arm with the prodding finger, and twisted it behind her back. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, and he was dangerously close to her now, which might have been part of her silence.
< >"Now, now..." he said. "It's this kind of behavior that causes heart failure, or popped arteries..." There was a long pause. "Well, shall we get going?" he asked her. She didn't reply. "All right." He let go of her. "Lead the way, Virginia."
Chapter 6 | Home | To be continued . . .