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Changes by Lupins_cub
Chapter 11 : Truth
 
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Heather walked back into the circular room and sat back in one of the chairs. Dumbledore stood, every once in a while, putting another memory into the pensive, Heather watched it swirl.

“Heather, what did Harry mean by you wouldn’t let him go?” he asked

“Well…when he fell into the pensive I wanted to see the memory too. But I didn’t know what would happen if I went in. So I just tapped into his thoughts, I imagined myself right up close to him and then I was there with him.” Heather said, slightly confused at herself.

“You mean you demonstrated Occlumency upon him?” Dumbledore asked, calmly.

Heather nodded, “I think so…at least that’s what I and my friend Isaac think. It’s been happening lately and I haven’t been able to control it.”

“How so?” Dumbledore asked.

“Well, the first time was in Professor Moody’s classroom. He was demonstrating the Cruciatus Curse. I could hear the spider screaming, but that was different, I wasn’t in the spider or in its mental state, I could just hear it.” Heather said, Dumbledore nodded. “The last time it happened, before I did it purposely, was with Isaac. He wasn’t telling us something and I saw a memory of his which told us.” Heather chose her words extremely carefully for that last bit, but Dumbledore saw strait through it.

“What was he hiding?” he asked,

Heather stared at him, but he looked back at her calm as ever. “The Order, sir,” Heather said hesitantly, “He told us about the history of Karkaroff and who he suspects is in this group, he thinks you started it.”

Heather looked at the floor, waiting for detention or for some sort of punishment. “I had a feeling he was curious. But as I said before curiosity isn’t a sin, but we should exercise caution with our curiosity.”

“Sorry, sir,” Heather said

Dumbledore waved a hand at her, “That right for now isn’t important. I want to know how you happened upon this power. As you may-or may not- know your father was very skilled and it’s very likely you inherited it from him.”

“I didn’t really happen upon it, it just sort of happens. That was the first I ever tried to control it was on Harry.”

Dumbledore nodded, “By your reaction as you broke free I’m guessing you had a pretty strong hold upon him.”

“But I lost control…” Heather said, “I could feel it, he wasn’t fighting me like he had tried it just felt like my fingers slipped or something.”

“Which is understandable, you see Heather when you let your guard down and let your mind wander you go so much farther than another human. Vampires wander out of the realms of their minds and into others, even when they or the others may not notice.” he explained.

“Sir,” Heather began, “Am I dangerous?”

“To others and yourself probably not, if you are only tapping into their thoughts accidentally. But it is dangerous for a person to knowingly posses this power but is oblivious to the weight and responsibility they hold.” Dumbledore said, “I want to know Heather, if I can trust you with this power until we can find you proper training for it?”

“Yes, you can trust me. I mean the power scares me, as well. I think my father has been using it one me, to get into my dreams.” Heather said cautiously.

“Into your dreams?” Dumbledore questioned, looking her sternly in the eye.

Heather nodded, “I’ve been having nightmares, sir, since my third year. They always end the same, I hear screaming then see my mother’s eyes and then my father appears and attacks me. Isaac said he may be filtering into my thoughts and causing me mental pain…”

“This is common among clans of vampires as well as enemy’s but that takes a great about of strength to do. For in our dreams we reside in a world that is entirely our own, which is something not easily invaded unless you know the person extremely well.” Dumbledore said, with a definitive tone. “Thank you for your time, Heather. If anything else happens don’t hesitate to come back.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Heather said, leaving the room feeling slightly dazed.

So that was it, Dumbledore thought that Voldemort was getting stronger, it made sense of course. What didn’t was Crouch accusation of Madam Maxime, she didn’t seem like the person to do such a thing. There was definitely a piece of the puzzle missing, her thoughts wandered back to Neville. She couldn’t imagine having her mother still alive but unable to recognize her; it would kill her soul. Heather didn’t go to dinner, she wasn’t hungry she returned to the common room; Kira and Isaac returned shortly after her.

After explaining to them what Dumbledore said she kept true to her word, even though Dumbledore directed it more to Harry; she didn’t tell Kira of Neville’s parents. As they got ready for bed, Heather wondered what Dumbledore meant by ‘proper training’. But she let these worries wash away as she fell asleep, that night she didn’t have any nightmares.

The next the family of the champions were brought to Hogwarts to watch the tournament. Mrs. Weasley and her son Bill showed up for Harry, Heather, and Kira and apparently Ron was surprised when Mrs. Weasley said hello to Isaac.

“So you were telling the truth about the order?” Kira asked, as they sat down at the table.

“Kira, I told you what he told me.” Heather said

“I know, but you know me I don’t trust what I can’t see or smell.” Kira said

Heather rolled her eyes then looked to Isaac who said, “She knows my Aunt and Uncle, since there in the order too. I usually have to stay home, but every once in a while they will come to our house and while I’m watching my cousin I’ll eavesdrop. But don’t let Mrs. Weasley know that.” he said hastily.

There were more courses than usual at the table; Heather hadn’t seen so much food since the start of the year when the other schools arrived. The enchanted ceiling reflected the sky outside and began to fade from blue to a dusky purple, it was then Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table; silence fell upon the room.

“Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes’ time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now.”

Kira then put down her fork, “I’m going to go catch up with Neville, okay?”

“Alright,” Heather said, “See you,”

“Bye!” she said, already half way down the tables.

Heather and Isaac looked to each other and smiled then said in unison “She’s head over heels.” before bursting out laughing and finishing their dinner.

Five minutes later they were walking down to a completely unrecognizable Quidditch field. A twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. The stands began to fill; Heather and Isaac got seats right down in front. Hagrid, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick came walking onto the stadium and approached Bagman and the champions. They were wearing large, red, luminous stars on their hats, all except Hagrid, who had his on the back of his moleskin vest. Bagman explained the points once more before he let the first two champions off, Harry and Cedric.

“So…on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!” said Bagman. “Three-two-one-”

He gave a short blast on his whistle and Harry and Cedric hurried forward into the maze.

“So they have to get to the middle, right?” Heather asked

“I assume so,” Isaac said, “There must be something there, like all mazes.”

“Do you see Kira anywhere?” Heather asked

“Yeah, look,” Isaac nudged her and pointed to his left, Heather looked to see Kira and Neville cheering, holding hands.

Heather grinned, she was glad Kira and Neville-especially-were happy, it was then someone slapped her on the back.

“Ouch!” Heather turned to see…no one, she looked around, and no one was there.

“What?” Isaac asked

“Nothing, probably just a muscle spasm,” she said with a shrug.

It was not long before among the maze red sparks sprang into the air, showering over it in a glimmer of wine red light. Everyone watched in silence as they waited to see who their teachers would bring back to the stands.

“It’s Krum,” Isaac said, Heather looked to the left.

It was Krum, he looked pale and weak, he looked as though he had been stunned or something. It wasn’t said what happened to Krum but the band in the stands continued playing to keep up spirits. The next to come out of the maze was Fleur, she looked stunned as well, and Heather had a sinking feeling in her stomach.

“Something…not right…” Heather said, then without warning Heather felt as though the whole world was ripped away from her. She was falling through a black oblivion then she hit the ground with her side.

Heather sat up and saw Harry, Cedric and the cup next to her; she stared bewildered at what just happened.

“Cedric? Harry?” Heather asked, wondering if she was dreaming or in another memory.

“Heather?” Harry gaped at her, he still on the floor with her his leg bleeding fluently.

“Where are we?” Cedric asked standing up, pulling Harry along with him, Heather followed in suit.

“A graveyard…” Heather said, looking around

They had left the Hogwarts ground completely; they had obliviously traveled miles-perhaps hundreds of miles- for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. They were standing instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to their right a hill rose above them to their left. They could just see the outline of a fine old house on the hillside.

“Did anyone tell you the cup was a Portkey?” Cedric asked.

“No…” Harry said

“I don’t think it was supposed to be…why would I be here?” Heather asked, instinctively taking out her wand the other two followed. “Someone’s coming,” she whispered.

The two squinted tensely through the darkness, but Heather could see the shadow clearly in the dark. It was walking steadily toward them between the graves; she couldn’t make out his face though. It was carrying something, she could tell by the way it held itself, and was wearing a hooded cloak. It was then she noticed the thing in the person’s arms looked like a baby, the two lowered their wands slightly but Heather kept hers high.

Suddenly Harry cried out and fell to his knees, holding his forehead, his scar was hurting. Heather’s stomach dropped as she looked to the figure and remembered the last time his scar hurt.

“Kill the spare…” hissed a voice from seemingly no where.

“Avada Kedavra!” the figure yelled.

“Cedric!” Heather cried, staring at him now spread-eagled his skin a gray color and his eyes staring toward the sky…just like her mothers once did.

The man put down the bundle strode toward them and grabbed Harry. Heather made to attack him but with a flick of his wand she smashed into a tombstone and was standing. She tired again only to have roots spring from the ground and wrap around her feet and ankles. Then the roots and vines curved around the stone and grabbed her wrist. Heather then recognized the man slamming Harry into a tombstone…he was in Harry’s dream, the man kneeling on the floor Wormtail-Peter Pettigrew.

“You!” gasped Harry.

But Peter just continued to tie him tightly to the tombstone, Cedric some thirty feet away from her view. It was then she looked to the bundle on the ground, she knew she didn’t want that bundle opened. It was then she saw that snake from Harry’s dream, it slithered over to where he was and circled the headstone. Wormtail looked as though he was making a large stew; a huge cauldron was now over an open fire. The bundle on the ground was moving more persistently, seemingly agitated.

“Hurry!” hissed the voice again, it came from the bundle, and Heather could feel herself trembling.

“It is ready, Master.”

“Now…” said the cold voice.

“No!” Heather yelled, “Don’t-” but then a vine wrapped around her neck and mouth gagging her.

Heather watched as Pettigrew took the thing from the bundle but it was no child, it couldn’t look less like a child. It was thin and frail, hairless being with a snake-like face and red eyes. Heather and Harry watched as Pettigrew carried it to the cauldron and lowered it into the cauldron. Heather knew as the cauldron hissed that that thing wasn’t going to drown, she had a feeling it would live.

“Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!”

The surface at Harry’s feet cracked and a fine white dust rose from it then fell softly into the cauldron. Then Wormtail pulled a long, thing, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice broke into petrified sobs.

“Flesh-of the servant-w-willingly given-you will-revive-your master.”

He held his hand with the missing finger in front of him, his other holding the dagger trembling. Heather turned her head away the second before she heard the scream piercing the night air. Heather heard a sickening thump then splash; Wormtail’s anguished panting as something dropped into the cauldron…his hand. She opened her eyes to see Wormtail walk to Harry with the dagger and cut his arm then held a vial to it to collect he blood.

“B-blood of the enemy…forcibly taken…you will...resurrect your foe.”

He staggered back to the cauldron and poured in Harry’s blond, the red liquid instantly turned to white. His job was done as he slumped to the ground cradling his bleeding stump that was once his hand.

And then, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of it so she couldn’t see Wormtail Cedric or Harry nothing but the vapor hanging in the air. Then through the mist they saw with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, raising slowly from the inside of the caldron.

“Robe me…” said the cold voice again.

Wormtail sobbing and moaning, still cradling his mutilated arm, scrambled to pick up the black robes from the ground, got to his feet, reached up and pulled them one-handed over his masters head. The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry…and Harry stared back into the face that had haunted his dreams. Whiter than a skill, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snakes with slits for nostrils….Lord Voldemort had risen again.

Lord Voldmeort looked away from Harry and examined his new body before his sights set on Heather. He made to walk to her when Wormtail cut in, his robes shining with blood now; he had wrapped the stump of his arm in them.

“My Lord…” he choked, “My Lord…you promised…you did promise…”

“Hold out your arm,” said Voldemort lazily.

“Oh Master…thank you, Master…”

He held out the stump, but Voldemort laughed mercilessly. “The other arm, Wormtail.”

“Master, please….please…”

Voldmeort reached down and seized Pettigrew’s left arm and pulled back the sleeve revealing the dark mark. It was glowing a vivid red now; it was the skull with a snake slithering from its mouth they had seen at the world cup.

“It is back,” he said softly, “they will all have noticed it…and now, we shall see…now we shall know…”

He pressed a long white finger to the bran on Wormtail’s arm, Harry gasped through the gag and Wormtail let out a fresh howl. When he removed his finger the tattoo was now jet black upon his pale arm. Voldmeort said something else but Heather’s hearing had failed her, it was like she had gone deaf. All she could see was his mouth moving, she was confused her eyes went in and out of focus. Then after a while of silence Heather heard a voice, it was laughing, then without warning death eaters appeared. From all shadows they apparated, they all got to their knees and kissed Voldemort’s robes.

“Master…Master…” they hissed, her hearing was back.

“Ah….look at me reliving my family history, we have a family reunion right here!” Voldemort said, but he wasn’t smiling at her.

Heather then realized two death eaters stood by her gravestone, one she recognized immediately by his red eyes. Voldmeort flicked his wand across the mask to reveal her father, who grinned.

“Nicolas…my loyal friend.” Voldmeort hissed,

The second death eater Heather didn’t recognize, he stood silent to her left, not looking at her. Voldmeort then walked to him, “from both sides of the family, eh?”

Heather was so confused, but when that mask was taken off her world tilted, because before that mask…was her father. Both her father’s, her biological and…her father, Heather’s head spun, he was a death eater!

“You as well, my friend, have been loyal. You all these years have done what I ordered thirteen years ago.” Voldmeort said satisfyingly.

“Yes…” he hissed.

“No!” Heather screamed, only to have it muffled by the vine.

“I kept the child unwillingly but willing, to complete you’re plan for Smith.” Ling Wong said to him.

No…Heather thought, NO! Suddenly her head exploded with pain and she screamed, her defense weakening.

“Ah…” Voldmeort said, noticing how Nick had jumped and glared at Heather. “So she does have your gift…” he whispered, raising her chin to him.

Heather glared at him then without warning the vines snapped and she bit down on his hand, hearing the bones snap. He cried out in alarm-the other vines snapped- she was released only to be grabbed at the arms by her father and… her father. But Heather didn’t turn her attention to Voldmeort; she turned it to Ling Wong, holding her left arm.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she yelled, “You work for the Ministry, and you have a daughter and wife at home!”

“All these years,” he hissed, “you didn’t even notice, and I thought you were your father’s daughter. All the fights, the late nights at the Ministry, not coming home until wee hours of the morning.”

“You’re on the wrong side!” Heather hissed, yanking at their hands, trying to pry away.

“There are many sides to a war, Heather, I’ve chosen mine a long time ago.” he said coldly, Heather stared at him incredulously, still numb from shock of who she was actually staring at; it was like a nightmare.

“Crucio!” a death eater screamed, “Get up, Avery,” he said softly, “Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years…I want thirteen years’ repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?”

Wormtail was still sobbing on the ground.

“You returned me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that don’t you?” said Voldemort coldly.

“Yes, Master,” he moaned, “please, Master…please…”

“Yet you helped return me to my body,” he said coolly, watching him sob on the ground. “Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me…and Lord Voldmeort rewards his helpers…”

Voldmeort raised his wand again and whirled it through the air. A stream of what looked like molten silver hung shining in the wands wake. Momentarily shapeless, it withered and formed itself into a gleaming replica of a human hand, bright as moonlight, which soared downward and fixed itself upon Wormtail’s bleeding wrist. He stopped sobbing and looked at his knew hand in disbelief, he flexed his fingers, then trembling picked up a small twig on the ground and crushed it into powder.

Heather had to do something, she had to escape, maybe to that crunch she had seen that was now behind her. But would she make it far? That was the big question, her logic said probably not. But now it looked like they had no choice, she didn’t move while thinking, she blocked her mind completely. Then with a surge of energy she ripped their hands off her and transformed and broke free of the circle of death eaters.

Heather focused on that church; she didn’t look backs he just kept bounding over headstones and open graves. She was almost there; almost-suddenly she was stunned in the back and tripped over a headstone. She fell through the open grave on the other side, she yelped when her right arm snapped with a horrible crack.

“By god…” she heard someone say above her and opened her eyes to see Ling standing there. “She’s a wolf…”

“It’s that bloody godfather of hers!” snarled her father, Heather felt herself levitate onto the ground. “He’s a bad influence, look what he’s done.”

They were all panting, Heather whimpered, she could feel the blood trickling through her fir. Then without warning her body began to change, beyond its will back to a human and she howled, which turned into a scream. Her bones changed but the one in her arm seemed to have trouble and began to mutate before resembling a broke human arm.

“Why…” escaped from her mouth.

“If your mother hadn’t interfered none of this would have happened,” her father hissed, grabbing her other arm and heaving her upward. “You would have grown up normally, Malfoy always seems to have all the luck.”

“Draco?” Heather gasped

“And that wolf!” he continued not notice her, “when she continued contact with him it all went bloody down hill from there!”

“Lupin saved my life no thanks to you!” Heather roared, he let go and she fell painful to the ground.

“Ignorance…” she heard her father hiss, Ling that is. “Its how it’s always been with her, nothing but ignorance!” Heather winced at his yelling, this was beyond what she could have ever thought of. “I knew not to tell my wife, she would have gone strait to the ministry, I didn’t need to be living life on the run. If I just stayed quiet and played my cards right, then you fell right into my hands…like an Ace from under the table.”

Heather shakily stood, “That’s why you were so angry that I left…”

“Precisely!” he snarled, slamming her into a tombstone. “It was to happen that summer, but with this screw up I couldn’t watch you. It was then I knew I had to contact your father so he would watch you all summer.

“All summer I did, waste of my bloody time,” he snarled at Ling, who merely glared at him. “Of course, I knew you were growing stronger, all year I sensed it. Then that Isaac boy came along, his mother came to me with assistance.”

“What?” Heather rasped, “His-his mother?”

“Incase he hasn’t told you his mother killed his father, little bugger watched too. She is among those who have returned.”

“We shouldn’t give the girl too much information….” said Ling, “Not now at least, not until we break her and give her the mark.”

“Well put,” suddenly two hands grabbed her, her arm seared with pain as she was dragged back to the circle.

“So…” Heather hissed, hoping her guess was right. “You two have your own planes…”

“She knows to bloody much, Nick!” Ling hissed.

“She won’t after this…”

Heather blacked out after the first seconds of pain, the last words she had heard was one of the unforgivable curses. Voldemort’s words filtered into hearing distance and she listened, now helpless, he was saying something about Bertha Jorkins. How one death eater was at Hogwarts making sure Harry’s name was in the cup and that he won it. Then with the last tidbit of Harry being the one who they all thought had defeated him she heard a shrill scream.

Heather could sense Harry’s pain; it was a very dull throb throughout her body as he screamed. It stopped and she heard Voldemort order Wormtail to untie Harry and give him his wand. Heather then realized she couldn’t move, she was paralyzed in some way, all she could do was lay there, breath and watch.

Heather tried to concentrate on the fight between them, she was blacking in and out between times.

“I WON’T!” roared Harry.

“You won’t?” said Voldmeort quietly, and the death eaters were silent. “You won’t say no? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die…Perhaps another little dose of pain?”

He raised his wand and fire only to have Harry dart behind a headstone and the cures miss him.

“We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry,” sad Voldemort’s soft cold voice, as he walked closer to the stone. “You can not hide from me. Does this mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now, Harry? Come out, Harry…come out and play, then…it will be quick…it might even be painless…I would not know…I have never died…”

Heather watched as he moved closer and closer, Harry didn’t’ immerge, nothing happened he was going to die. Heather tried to lift herself, and then a hand grabbed the back of her robes and lifted her to her feet.

“Come, Heather, you see what is happening, join us…the mark will be quick…painful…but quick. If your obedient you will rise in the ranks just as I did.” her father hissed in her ear.

Maybe…maybe he is right…said a small whimpering voice in her mind…all hope is lost…what do you have to lose? Then Harry sprang from behind the stone, Voldmeort was ready and cried “Avada Kedavra!” Heather could hear over his voice Harry shout “Expelliarmus!”

A jet of green light issued from Voldemort’s wand just as a get of red light blasted from Harry’s-they met in midair- and suddenly their wands were vibrating as though an electric charge were surging through them. Then a narrow beam of light connected the two wands, neither red nor green, but bright, deep gold. Her father released her and strode foreword with the others who were shouting for instruction. She watched as Voldemort screamed at them to do nothing unless he commanded them too.

Heather looked to the cup which was shining a blue, if she could get to it, they could escape. But how would Harry, he was floating in midair his wand connected with Voldemort’s. With this she stood, crouching slightly and made her way there, falling to the ground if someone looked to her. Heather was half way there when something caught her eye….Cedric…he was floating in midair…a ghost.

Then more like him immerged from the wand, an old man, they were talking to him, she could see their mouths moving. Then another was emerging it was a woman, it was Bertha Jorkins, she cried something Heather guessed was don’t let go. It was then to Harry’s shock his mother appeared, just like the others she spoke to him too before his father appeared. They were speaking to him, so was Cedric, Heather continued to stare transfixed upon the sight, when she noticed Harry was staring at her.

There seemed to be a meaning of understanding between them and Heather continued to crawl towards the cup. Then the mystifying spectacles in front of them shatter, the golden arch was broke and Harry hit the ground. Voldemort’s victims surrounded him immediately just as Harry ran. Heather got to her feet and matched his pace, as they dived behind a marble angel. Heather grabbed Harry’s hand and dived away from the angel, he let go and dived over the cup grabbing Cedric’s arm. Then they reached out to the cup and took hold, hearing the last of Voldmeort screaming.

“Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!”

With a familiar jerk the Portkey began to work, speeding them away from the horrific sight they had just witnessed. They were going back, all Heather wished during this movement is that she would wake up screaming in her bed from another nightmare; Kira at her side, telling her that she will never get her beauty sleep.


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