TDSC I - The Anthology

[potterknowitall]

While planning for the 3rd Annual TDSC, it was suggested that we collect up all the other TDSC stories into a sort of anthology, so that people can scan through all the stories that have been entered - so that's what we're doing! In here, you will find all of the stories entered in the first contest, as well as their scoring. See below for a table of contents. Note that all of the stories will be in alphabetical order by author. Remember to feel free to send the authors your comments Click on their name in the list below, and you'll be linked to their profile.

Author / Title / Posts # - #

Dianella / A Traitor Among Friends / 1-4
Evelyn / A Chance to Change Destiny / 5-10
Gryf / Gringotts Hidden Curse / 11-14
KoNeko / The Train / 15-17
Rita / My Story / 18
Rue / My Roots Go Deep Down in History / 19

[potterknowitall]

Dianella - A Traitor Among Friends

Chapter 1 - The Charm

He stood nearly unnoticed in the corner, watching the scene unfold before him. His black eyes darted nervously from face to face, finally coming to rest on Dumbledore. The old wizard had finished what he was saying, the full weight of the news resting heavily on the others in the room. Of course, it wasn’t news to him, but he tried to look surprised anyway. Dumbledore removed his half-moon glasses and rubbed his eyes, leaving his hands covering his face for a moment.

“Are you sure, Albus? You’re sure that it’s us?” asked a witch sitting across from the headmaster, her green eyes boring into his hidden face. Dumbledore breathed deeply as he removed his hands, his eyes looking bloodshot and weary.

“I have…an insider. I trust his information completely, and he is positive that your family is next. We must take precautions, Lily.”

Lily looked up at a man standing behind her. He had just put his hand on her shoulder, his bespectacled gaze trying to offer strength and reassurance. “James…where will we go? How can we possibly hide from him? And Harry - he’s so little, so defenseless!”

James looked at Dumbledore with determination. “What do you suggest, Albus?”

Here it comes, thought the man in the corner. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. He shifted his position out of excitement, but no one took notice of him. Come on, old man. Spill it.

Dumbledore rose slowly to his feet and began to pace with his hands behind his back. “I’ve spent a great deal of time considering the alternatives, James, and I think your best hope is the Fidelius Charm. You, Lily, and Harry will go into hiding, but you are to tell no one where you are, except for the one you select to be your Secret Keeper. Perform the charm, and as long as your Secret Keeper does not divulge your location, no one will be able to find you – even if they look right through your kitchen window during your morning coffee!”

James looked down at Lily again, who nodded slightly, and then replied, “That sounds perfect, Dumbledore. Who should we use?”

“I offer myself to be your Secret…”

“No, Dumbledore!” came a deep growl of a voice. “I’ll be their Secret Keeper. Voldemort hasn’t a chance of making me talk. I’ll take their location to the grave with me.”

“Thank you, Sirius," said James as they embraced like brothers. Lily stood now, kissed Sirius on the cheek and whispered a “Thank you” through a throat tight with worry. The three of them now turned and faced the man that had been watching from the corner. “And thank you too, Peter,” said Lily as she stepped lightly over and kissed him on the cheek.

“Wh-what for?” he asked, startled by the sudden attention. He had done nothing, after all. Said nothing. Why should they thank him? If they knew what was on his mind, they certainly wouldn’t. He tried to wipe those thoughts quickly from his brain and put on his best façade, smiling weakly at Lily as he did so.

“Why, for being here today. For supporting us! You and Sirius are our dearest friends. We’d never make it through this without you.”

As his friends surrounded him and began moving towards the door, Peter smiled nervously again and began formulating his plan.

Chapter 2 - The Switch

“Why did you call me here, Peter?” Sirius leaned heavily on top of the worn wooden table, rolling the glass of fire whiskey between his fingers. Madame Rosmerta placed a gillywater in front of Peter before turning on her sparkling heels and returning to the bar. Peter took a deep breath and a drink, steeling his nerve and steadying his voice. He couldn’t blow this. He just couldn’t.

“Well, Sirius, I’ve been thinking…”

“You want to be careful about that Peter. That’s never really been your strong suit, has it?” The corner of Sirius’ mouth curled upwards and his eyes twinkled mischievously. Then, after seeing the serious look on Peter’s face, he added, “Sorry, old friend. Apparently this is not a joking matter…”

“No, Sirius, it really isn’t. As I said, I’ve been thinking…and it seems to me that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is sure to know that you are the Potter’s Secret Keeper.”

“Don’t worry about me, Peter! I can handle anything Voldemort throws my way," replied Sirius casually, leaning far back in his chair, causing it to rock back onto its two rear legs.

Peter winced when he heard Voldemort’s name. Even he never used it; he who’d been in the Dark Lord’s presence scores of times never dared to utter it aloud.

“Yes, well, I don’t doubt that you can, Sirius. You’ve always been brave, even by Gryffindor standards, and strong too. But, the Dark Lord…he has powers – at least I’ve heard he has powers – that we can’t even dream of…”

Sirius sat forward again, bringing his chair back down with a thud loud enough for two witches at the bar to glance their way. “Peter, I would die before I betrayed Lily, James and Harry. I don’t care what powers Voldemort has. He will never get me to reveal their secret.”

“But Sirius, what if he could break the Fidelius Charm without you voluntarily revealing the information? Can we take that risk? Think of James and Lily, Sirius. Think of little Harry, your godson!”

“What are you getting at, Peter?” asked Sirius, sounding a bit confused.

“What if we switched, Sirius. What if I became the Potter’s Secret Keeper? Voldemort would never suspect that I was the one! They won’t even think to question me. They know I’m not strong and powerful like you. Then, if they caught you, the Death Eaters would never be able to extract the information, because you wouldn’t have it! It’s brilliant, really.”

Peter stopped and held his breath, his heart pounding from the effort of staying calm. Had it worked? He wasn’t sure yet. He tried hard to discern the look on Sirius’ face. Sirius’ brow was furrowed, his head bent down, looking at the scarred wooden table but not seeing it.

“You. The Potter’s Secret Keeper…”

“I know it sounds impossible, Sirius, but that’s –”

“Why it just might work," finished Sirius. He looked up from the table, a small light kindling in his dark eyes. “You have been thinking, old friend. It’s a very clever plan indeed. An extra layer of protection. By the time the Death Eaters realize I don’t have the information and come looking for you, Lily and James could have moved to a new location.”

“Yes, well, hopefully it won’t come to all that, Sirius," said Peter, trying his best to play the part of cowardly hero.

The two friends raised their glasses and toasted to the plan, while Peter’s mind whispered excitedly, it worked, my Lord…it worked…

Chapter 3 - The Turning Point

Peter placed his hand on the wrought iron gate and looked up at the brick two-story, ivy sprawling across its broad face. An army of elm trees surrounded the house, arms spread wide as if to guard against intruders. The house was old, but the land even older. This glen had once housed the great Godric Gryffindor himself and still emanated an eerie power. James and Harry Potter, as Godric’s last blood descendents, were, by birthright, owners of the Hollow. James and Harry. All of this came down to them.

Peter had known James since his first year at Hogwarts. He, James, Sirius, and Remus Lupin – the Marauders. He had loved them like brothers. Physically weak and not very magical or academically gifted, he had relied on his friends and they had always been there for him, protecting him, helping him. They had stayed up all night with him, studying for final exams. They had helped him to become an animagus when his natural talent, or lack thereof, would have made that seem impossible. They had prevented Slytherin bullies like Severus Snape from making his life a living hell.

But they couldn’t protect him now. Even if he tried to explain, they’d never understand. People that are strong don’t understand the challenges of the world for those who are not.

After school they had developed lives of their own. Remus was usually unable to stay in one place for very long. Sirius, having always been a free spirit, was always on some exciting trip on his motorcycle. And James had married Lily and started a family. Oh, they all tried to keep in touch, that was true. But there was no denying that Peter was alone much of the time, and of all of his friends, it was James he envied most.

And now, in an ironic twist, it was because of James and his son Harry that he was in this mess. The Dark Lord would never have approached him if it weren’t for them. He wasn’t powerful enough for someone like Voldemort to concern himself with, unless he needed something Peter could provide. And what Voldemort needed was the Potters dead.

So, Voldemort had come in the night to Peter’s house. He would never forget it. The turning point of his life had begun with fear. His front door had swung violently open with a bang. The light from the full moon outlined the silhouette of a tall, slender figure in his doorway, flanked by three others. Lowering the hood that shrouded his face, he strode into Peter’s house.

[potterknowitall]

Dianella - A Traitor Among Friends, con't

“Peter, hello. I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced…I am Lor-”

“I-I know who you are!” he had replied from behind the refuge of his armchair. He was petrified; sure he was about to be murdered. “Wh-what do you w-want? I have n-nothing!”

The Dark Lord had seated himself across from the chair Peter was using as a shield. “Peter, Peter, that’s where you are wrong. You do have something I want. And I have something you want. Now, why don’t you come out from behind that chair and learn about your future.”

And it was a brilliant future indeed. The Death Eaters provided a level of protection and power a hundred times that of James and the other Marauders. And, really, what were his options? To fight Voldemort? There would be no point in that – he’d be dead! So he sat and listened. Listened to Voldemort’s need to remove the Potters from his path to total power. Listened to the promises of being a part of that network of the most powerful wizards and witches ever created. Peter had never felt more alive than he had that night.

So, here he stood now, outside Godric’s Hollow, about to put into action the plan that had begun that night a year ago, when he had met his fate. On one side of that gate was his childhood friend, a man that had stood by him for more than 10 years. On the other was ultimate power, a level of safety – of belonging – he couldn’t have dreamed existed. He opened the gate and walked through.

Chapter 4 - The Secret Keeper

Lily was sitting on the couch, little Harry on her lap giggling madly as they played a tickling game. She beamed up at Peter as he entered the living room, the flickering light from three floating candles dancing on her long auburn hair. He smiled nervously back, feeling the familiar flush of heat he always felt when Lily Evans graced him with a smile. For some reason he would always think of her as Lily Evans, even though she and James had been married for several years.

Lily sat Harry on the couch and swept towards Peter. “James! You could at least have taken Peter’s cloak!” She helped him remove his cloak and hung it on a hook near the front door. “There. Now, what can I get you Peter? A gillywater? Or something stronger, perhaps?”

“The gillywater would be fine, Lily, thanks," Peter replied. As she left for the kitchen, Peter sat down next to Harry. The boy looked up at him, uttering a stream of words that apparently had meaning for him, and offered him the stuffed owl he was holding. Peter took it with a “Thank you, Harry!” A moment later, Harry had squirmed his way to the floor and was tottering after his mother. So full of life, thought Peter, watching him go. And another voice in his head replied, But not for long.

Lily returned, Harry in her arms. “Let me just run upstairs and put Harry to bed. Then we can get started.” James stoked the fire in the fireplace and sat in a wingchair nearby with his hands facing the flames, taking in the warmth. “October has brought quite a chill to the air! I’d forgotten how much cooler it is in the country.” He abruptly changed topics, looking at Peter with a face filled with concern. “Peter, are you sure you want to do this? I know you and Sirius have this half-cooked notion that this plan provides extra protection for my family, but it places you in grave danger. If Voldemort catches you – ”

“It’s ok, James. You-Know-Who won’t come looking for me. This is the least I can do for you. All the times you protected me in school…”

“I protected you from bullies and bad grades…that’s nothing compared to Voldemort! Are you sure you’re prepared?” Just then Lily rejoined them, placing both arms around James and whispering to him, “He was asleep before his head hit the pillow. Apparently, he takes after his father…”

Peter suddenly felt quite alone again. “Yes”, he replied, “I’m prepared for what I have to do.” Lily looked up and gave him her signature smile, and he forced the corners of his mouth up in return.

“All right then”, said James as Lily sat on the couch next to Peter and they formed a small circle. “No charm is based more on friendship and trust than the Fidelius Charm. It depends on the absolute fidelity of the Secret Keeper, and we know we can count on that from you, Peter.” Lily had been looking at James as he spoke, and now turned to Peter and nodded solemnly. “First, place this piece of parchment in your right hand, Peter, and hold it tightly. On it I’ve written ‘Godric’s Hollow’, and it will represent the secret to be kept. Next, we stack our left hands in the center. Mine first, then Lily’s, and then yours, Peter.” James wrapped a golden cord around their hands and picked up his wand. “Fidelius arcanum.” A golden light spread from the wand, around the hands that were bound together, and flowed through the house until it was as bright as midday. When the light faded, James removed the cord that bound the trio and Peter opened his right hand. The parchment had disappeared. “Now that secret is hidden in you, Peter, and my family is safe.”

What Peter really felt was hidden in him was lead. The weight of the secret – not the Potter’s secret but his own – was filling him as he looked at the happy and contented faces of two people that had always treated him like a member of their family and had just placed their lives in his hands. But, he reminded himself, he was not a member of their family, or any other. He lived alone, ate alone, and had to face Lord Voldemort alone. In his current life, he had nothing. But down the path of his new master, he had a family among the Death Eaters and the promise of power that had never been open to him before.

He suddenly realized he was perspiring. Was it the heat from the fireplace making the room so unbearably stifling, or was his secret burning at what was left of his conscience? He had to leave, had to go outside and feel the blast of the cool October night.

“You, know, I ought to get going," Peter said abruptly, moving towards his cloak near the door. “Oh! So soon?” asked Lily. “I was going to put on a kettle…”

“No, no. Really, I – I ought to go now," Peter insisted, opening the front door and feeling with relief the blast of cold air.

James put a hand on his shoulder. “Well, if you’re you won’t stay, then good night, Peter. And thank you from the bottom of our hearts.”

“Yes," said Lily, “I know our family couldn’t possibly be any safer than it is now. We are indebted to you forever.” She put her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace. It had suddenly gotten very warm again, even though the autumn wind was rushing through the doorway.

Chapter 5 - The Betrayal

Peter unfolded the parchment he’d received by eagle owl earlier that day with the intention of double-checking the address. The inky blackness of the cloudy night was perfect cover for the rendezvous that was planned, but it made reading the thin scrawl difficult. He jerked suddenly toward the house as a scream ripped through the shawl of night, followed by a cold, high-pitched cackle. He was at the right house.

Four days had passed since he had been made Secret Keeper for the Potters. And though his Master’s letter had been filled with delight at the continued success of their plan, Peter couldn’t help replaying that night in his mind. As he stood here now, about to hand the Potters – his friends – to Lord Voldemort, he wondered…Can I really go through with this? Maybe it isn’t too late to run! I could transform into a rat and go into hiding…You-Know-Who would have more trouble locating me as a rat. He looked up and down the dark street, trying to help his legs make their decision on which direction to move. Do I really dare make a run for it? he asked himself. Another scream jolted him into action. No, he thought, I don’t dare…and he quickly moved toward the door of the house.

It opened without help from him, and Peter entered a room lit only by a fire in the grate.

“Welcome, Wormtail," came the cold voice of his Master from the far corner of the room. Peter had never quite gotten used to the sound of his Marauder’s nickname coming from the Dark Lord. It always made him think of James, Sirius, and Remus, and that always made him uncomfortable. “We’ve been waiting for you…not having second thoughts, are you Wormtail?”

“N-No, my Lord! Just…just checking the address," Peter replied, holding up the parchment in his hands as he squirmed nervously. Voldemort always seemed to be able to read his mind.

“Good, Wormtail, good…because if you had tried to escape down that street, you wouldn’t have gotten 50 yards – rat or not.”

Peter began to sputter, “I-I don’t kn-know…” but Voldmort cut him off.

“There are still several lessons you must learn, Wormtail. One is that you cannot lie to me – as you have hopefully just learned. Another is that you cannot withhold information from me – the McKinnons here are learning that lesson right now," and he indicated a witch and wizard that were tied tightly to chairs in the center of the room. They were slumped against the ropes that bound them; their heads lolled forward, faces hidden. “And the last is that you cannot hide from me, as the Potters will soon be learning. I suggest you learn these lessons from those around you, Wormtail, and not directly from me.”

Peter’s entire body was shaking violently and he grabbed the edge of a table for support. “Y-Y-Yes, M-M-aster!”

[potterknowitall]

Dianella - A Traitor Among Friends, con't[/size]

“Now, before we begin our new business, Wormtail, I think we should continue with the lesson the McKinnons are still mastering.” Voldemort turned to the couple bound in the center of the room. “I believe that you were just about to tell me”, he whispered silkily to Mr. McKinnon, “who has been passing information to the Ministry. Who among the ranks of my Death Eaters has turned spy?”

The man was so weak from torture that he could barely lift his head from his chest. His face was contorted by the effort when he finally looked up and faced Voldemort. In a voice that was hoarse from screaming he croaked, “I don’t know. And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you, you fil- Aaahhhhhhhhh!”

Another cloaked figure had stepped forward, brandished a wand a muttered a curse, sending Mr. McKinnon into spasms of pain. Peter, whose trembling knees could no longer support his weight, sank into a chair and mopped his brow with the sleeve of his cloak. Voldemort raised a finger and said, “One moment, Avery.” The cloaked figure lifted his wand and the screaming was replaced by heavy, ragged breathing. “That hurt. I know it did. Just think of your poor wife. Think how much it will hurt her when we –”

“Stop it!” he rasped. “Stop – there is a spy among the Death Eaters, but there is only one person who knows their identity. Albus Dumbledore. He refuses to tell the Ministry who it is. No one else knows. No one.” McKinnon’s voice trailed away and his head fell forward again as he slipped into unconsciousness.

“Damn that meddling, crooked-nosed fool!” roared Voldemort as he began to pace angrily. “Leave it to him to stand in my way yet again. A traitor in my midst…I must find out who it is!” His fury seemed to be reaching a crescendo, when suddenly he stopped his pacing and withdrew his wand. Peter recoiled in fear, not knowing what to expect next. “AVADA KEDAVRA!” he bellowed, pointing his wand at the wizard bound to the chair. A blinding flash of green light flooded the room, accompanied by a whooshing sound as if the air had been sucked from the room. Before Peter could comprehend what had happened, the curse, the light and the speeding sound of death had been repeated. In the eerie quiet that followed, Peter uncovered his eyes and saw both McKinnons, their eyes wide open, their mouths frozen as if in mid-scream, their bodies quite dead.

“Now, Wormtail," Voldemort said turning to Peter, his calm veneer back in place, “I believe you have some information for me.”

“Y-Yes Master!” Peter replied, nearly stumbling as he tried to both rise from his chair and bow deeply at the same time. “The Potters, my Lord, are hidden at Godric’s Hollow.”

“Ah-h-h, thank you, Wormtail. That is most excellent. Now I want to discuss with you the next stage of our plan…”

“N-Next stage?”

“Oh, yes, Wormtail. Your value to me is not over, and I think you should be glad that it is not!”

Peter glanced at the McKinnons, turned back to Voldmort and said, “Of course, My Lord, of course! I’m happy to serve…” and he bowed more deeply still.

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, the Potters slept. They slept so soundly that they did not see the blinding golden light that suddenly appeared around their house and then quickly shrunk to a pinprick before vanishing in the center of their living room. From the spot where it had vanished, a small piece of parchment appeared, bearing the words ‘Godric’s Hollow’. It floated silently to the floor, coming to rest gently under the sofa.

Chapter 6 - Trick or Treat

“Peter, do you have somewhere else to go?” Lily was refilling his teacup and looking at him quizzically.

“Wh-why would you say that?” said Peter, a bit unnerved by the feeling that maybe Lily, like Lord Voldemort, could read minds.

“Well, that’s about the tenth time you’ve looked at the clock on our mantle – you seem anxious about something. You know, Peter," she added with a grin, “you are sitting in the safest house in Britain! You’ve ensured that for us.”

Peter gave a small laugh and hoped it sounded more casual than it felt. Lily returned to the kitchen with the teapot as Harry toddled over to the couch. He sat with a thump on the floor where a scattering of toys was waiting for a playmate, and began offering them one at a time to Peter.

James laughed at the lapful of toys Peter was collecting. “We’ve been teaching Harry to share – I think he’s gone a bit overboard with the idea!” The sudden sound of breaking china followed by a “Damn!” caused both men to turn quickly towards the kitchen. James jumped up and headed toward the ruckus. “Lily? Everything ok?” Peter watched him go and heard Lily telling James that she’d dropped the teapot.

An insistent tapping on his arm drew his attention back to little Harry. Apparently, there were more toys he wished to share with Peter. But what Harry held forward for Peter to take wasn’t a toy. It was a piece of parchment. Peter looked at it curiously as he accepted it from Harry. There was something familiar about it. Then his heart nearly stopped as he saw the words ‘Godric’s Hollow’ written on it. He quickly pocketed the fragment as James reentered the room. “You know, James, it is getting late after all, and I know you and Lily have had a long day.”

“Well thanks for coming over, Peter. Not exactly the Halloween Feasts from our school days, I admit. But, I appreciate your company – we’re beginning to feel a bit…isolated.”

“Yes”, said Peter. “I think I know what you mean.” He twitched a small, nervous smile, called “Goodnight” to Lily and left the house. As he passed through the wrought iron gate a voice from behind a tree added an extra chill to the air. “Wormtail," called a cloaked figure as it emerged. “You have exceeded my low expectations. Never could I have imagined you would serve so well as a spy against those that were your friends. Perhaps I should be keeping a closer eye on you myself…”

“My Lord!” Wormtail exclaimed, bowing deeply. “I did this for you, my Lord!”

“Don’t flatter me, Wormtail. You did this for your own stinking hide. But, nevertheless, you have succeeded, and I will uphold my end of the bargain.”

“Then…Lily will be spared, my Lord? You promise not to harm her? Oh thank you, my Lord, thank you.”

“I will spare her, Wormtail, and when I am finished I will modify her memory. She will testify that Sirius Black was the Secret Keeper, that he has been my spy. That is the most I can do for you, Wormtail. I cannot make her fall in love with you…”

“No…of course not, my Lord…”

“Now, I think it is time for the fun to begin. Trick or Treat!”

Peter ducked down among the bushes. He could see through the window into the living room, where James sat with Harry on the couch. Voldemort strode up to the front door, his cloak billowing behind him, wand outstretched. A flash of light burst from the wand as the door exploded back on its hinges. Peter could catch snippets of the voices from inside.

“Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him!” Peter saw Lily run into the room, grab Harry, and then disappear again. Voldemort’s high-pitched cackle drowned their voices as he entered the house, and it became impossible to see through the window as brilliant flashes of light issued from the volley of spells passing between James and the Dark Lord. Peter breathed heavily, moving this way and that, trying to get a sense of what was happening inside. Suddenly, a flood of green filled the living room and the air became quiet.

Upstairs a light could suddenly be seen through a window and Peter could hear voices again. “No! Not Harry! Please – I’ll do anything – ”

“Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!”

Do it, Lily! Move aside! You’ll be fine if you just move aside, please! Peter pleaded silently from his hiding spot.

A shrill scream, another flash of green, and the pleading had stopped. No! thought Peter. NO! He had promised. Surely…Then came the laughter again, and suddenly another flash of green began. But this time was different. The flash didn’t stop inside the small bedroom on the second floor. It spread, lighting every window in the house. Glass began to shatter, flying in great shards past Peter as he ducked behind a tree to avoid being hit. The house was shuddering, the ground felt as though an earthquake was striking. The house was now shaking so violently that its frame was moaning from the stress, and finally it could take no more. The house was ripped into pieces, crumbling to the ground in clouds of billowing dust.

The night, a moment ago filled with explosive sound, was now eerily silent. Peter gaped at the smoldering ruin before him, confused and worried. Where was Voldemort? What had just happened? And then, he did hear a noise. It started small and then grew louder. It was the sound of a baby crying. An impossible idea entered Peter’s head. It couldn’t be true, and yet, it must be. Harry had lived!

Chapter 7 - The Rat’s Trap

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A small ‘pop’ announced the arrival of Peter back in his small flat. He ran his fingers through what was left of his hair, mind racing madly. What had just happened? One minute, things were going perfectly to plan; the next, the house ruined…Voldemort gone…and Harry…Harry somehow left alive.

And what would happen to him now? Voldemort could no longer protect him. The Death Eaters were sure to come looking for him…after all, it was he who’d sent the Dark Lord to the Potters. They would think he’d set a trap. And Sirius…Sirius would know he had betrayed Lily and James. Sirius would come looking for him too, and Peter wasn’t sure whom he feared more.

[potterknowitall]

Dianella - A Traitor Among Friends, con't[/size]

Ok. Ok. Just stop and think, Peter told himself. He forced himself to sit down and breathe normally for a moment. And then finally, his mind began to work again. I have to disappear for a while…but how can I be sure no one will come looking for me? The Death Eaters will find me anywhere I go. Unless…unless they think I’m dead! Yes, that’s it! But…what am I to do about Sirius? A sinister plan began to form in his mind. An evil, tricky, clever, brilliant plan!

He had to hurry – daylight had arrived and Sirius would be here very soon to extract his revenge. He quickly destroyed the few scattered letters that were the only traces of evidence of his involvement with Lord Voldemort. And then Peter braced himself for the most difficult, but most important, part of his plan; the part that would ensure that no one – Death Eater or Marauder – would ever come looking for him. Peter leaned against the kitchen counter and held his breath. The knife glinted, reflecting a ray of the morning sun as Peter brought it swiftly down on his right hand. The pain was immeasurable as his finger was cleanly separated from the rest of him. The air he’d been holding burst forth in a strangled yell as Peter grasped the hand with its remaining four digits and fell to the floor.

As the minutes ticked by, the initial tidal waves of pain began to steady to an even flow, and finally Peter shakily regained his feet, picked up his wand and stopped the bleeding. He pocketed his severed finger as he prepared to leave his house for the last time, placing a train schedule on the table. It was the perfect lure, and the busy train station would provide the witnesses he needed.

He apparated in a deserted alley. He was ready for-

WHAM!

Peter fell to his knees as the world became blurry, his wand skittering across the cobblestone pavement. His addled brain drew an image of the Whomping Willow, and he vaguely wondered how it could possibly be in this dark alleyway.

SMACK came the second blow, but a deep, growling voice accompanied this one and the image of the Whomping Willow vanished from Peter’s mind.

“You lying, cheating scum.” WHAM! The third punch threw Peter back into the brick wall. His head hit hard, his hair and face now felt warm and sticky – he was bleeding. “You filthy, traitorous b*stard. You betrayed them and I helped you do it.”

“S-Sirius," Peter sputtered, “No! No – I didn’t –”

Peter was suddenly lifted from the ground by his cloak and, feet dangling, was brought face to face with the menacing glare of Sirius Black.

“For the first time, Wormtail, I realize just how fitting it is that you are able to transform into a rat. A very small change is required indeed.” Sirius punctuated this by throwing Peter across the alley, where he landed in a heap among the trashcans. “There. Now you’re with the filth where you belong.”

Peter’s black eyes darted left to right, looking for escape. Sirius was advancing on him, wand drawn and face resolute. Pushing himself upright, Peter’s hand fell on a smooth piece of wood – it was his wand! In a flash he’d transformed into a rat and scurried behind the trash, heading toward the street. Garbage cans were blasted into the air behind him, the explosions and scattering metal bins deafening the sounds of Sirius’ curses.

Running into the street bustling with pedestrian traffic, Peter made his way to the entrance of the station, quickly transforming back into a man behind a turnstile. He stepped out just in time to see Sirius, wand outstretched, prepared to finish what he had started. It was time for Peter to spring his trap. Slipping his severed finger from the pocket of his cloak, he held it and his wand behind his back.

“Sirius! How could you, Sirius!” he yelled loudly. Muggles were stopping, looking over their shoulders to see what the commotion was about. “Lily and James…how could you!”

Sirius raised his wand and Peter knew from the look in his eyes that this time he meant to kill. Dropping the severed finger behind him, Peter whispered a deadly spell to his wand. An explosion ripped open the ground, destroying everything within 20 yards of him as Peter transformed into the rat once more and ran into the sewers beneath the city. The sound of falling debris and screaming muggles followed him into the pipes, and weirdly, the sound of someone…laughing…

Chapter 8 - A New Home

Peter traveled for days as a rat, foraging for food in garbage cans and gutters. He dared not transform back into a man. He couldn’t risk being seen. One word, one hint of his existence would send the Death Eaters onto his trail.

The muggle newspapers he saw in the trash reported the incident as a gas line explosion. But on this morning, as Peter foraged for his morning meal, he came across a fresh copy of the Daily Prophet, waiting to be brought inside and devoured over toast and marmalade. Pretending to stand on his hind legs and wash his whiskers, Peter hastily read snippets of information.

“Sirius Black sentenced to life in Azkaban…”

“13 Muggles died when Black blasted long-time friend Pettigrew…”

“Pettigrew’s mother given Order of Merlin for his attempt to apprehend Black…”

“Voldemort’s whereabouts still unknown…”

It had worked, he thought to himself as he glanced at a photograph. They think I’m dead. And everyone thinks Sirius was the spy. It all worked. He was reading the caption of the photo now. “Arthur Weasley, ministry official – ”

A hand suddenly clamped around his midsection, whisking him upwards.

“Oy, Bill! Take a look at this, will you?” Turning to face his captor, Peter looked into the freckled face of a young, stocky boy.

“Charlie – what the devil have you caught this time? You know, I reckon one day you’re going to catch a creature that turns out to be more dangerous than you can handle!”

“No such thing," grinned Charlie. “But have a look at him! He’s really been through the mill, this one has. His foot’s all bloody – blimey! He’s missing a toe! And what about that face…he’s going to need some mending, he is.”

“You’re going to keep that rag-tag thing? You better show him to Mum first – she’s likely to have kittens over you bringing home another mouth to feed.”

“Ah – I’ll tell her I caught him for Percy. She’ll lap it up. C’mon, Scabbers. Let’s go meet the family, eh?”

Bill picked up the paper on the ground. “Hey – how about this! Dad’s picture is in the Daily Prophet!”

The boy turned the paper and pointed to the photo of the ministry official Peter had just been looking at. He could hardly believe his luck. He’d walked right into a wizarding family tied to the ministry. If he played his cards right, he’d be able to catch any word of Voldemort from here. He relaxed in the boy’s hand, looked up at him, and twitched his whiskers in what he hoped was a friendly sort of way.

“Y’know Bill, I think he likes me!”

“Oh, that’s an achievement, Charlie. Being friends with a rat! As if you could trust a single one of ‘em.”

“I dunno Bill. There’s something different about this one. I think Scabbers here is alright.”

Peter nestled comfortably into Charlie’s hands. Once again he’d found someone to protect him, and finally feeling safe, Peter closed his black, watery eyes and began to drift off to sleep.

[potterknowitall]

Evelyn - A Chance to Change Destiny[/color][/b]

Chapter 1 - Back At Home

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Bridget Hathway stepped off the Hogwarts Express and onto platform 9 ¾, and walked to the back to collect her trunk. Her friends were already there, chatting up a storm. She sighed; she was back home again. She couldn’t wait to see her Muggle friends again and get caught up but first; she had to get her trunk. After scanning the long row of look-alike trunks that were being unloaded, she finally found her own mahogany trunk. She was just pushing it along, when she saw Padme Patil. She had always liked Padme and this year they had become close friends.

“Have a great summer Padme! See you in September!”

“You too Bridget!”

“Don’t forget to tell me all about Italy in your letters.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

“Hey Bridget, could you lend me a hand, please?” asked a small lanky girl with dark hair and lively blue eyes, it was her friend, Sarah.

“Sure, Sarah. What do you want?”

“Can you help me get my trunk out from under that pile over there?” asked Sarah, pointing to a huge pile of trunks to her right; her trunk was at the bottom.

“Um, Sarah, how are we going to get it out?”

“Dunno. Oh wait, look, there’s Roger! Hey Roger!”

Roger Davies was in Ravenclaw house, just like Sarah and Bridget, and he was also the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain. Roger had become quite smitten with Sarah and he would not miss any chance to help her.

“Hi, Sarah. What’s up?”

“Well, my trunk’s at the bottom of this pile,” said Sarah pointing to the pile of trunks that had grown while they were talking. “Do you think you could help me get it out?”

“Uh…sure…I’ll help you,” said Roger eyeing the humungous pile of trunks uncertainly.

Together, all three of them finally pulled Sarah’s trunk out from under the pile. Sarah thanked Roger for his help and he left with a very big smile on his face. Bridget saw her parents, brother, and sister near the exit so she said good-bye to Sarah and pushed her trunk towards her family. Her brother and father heaved her trunk onto the cart that already held two other trunks and they went to their car. The ride home was filled with chatter as all the children told their parents about what happened in Hogwarts this year. Their parents nodded and interrupted now and then, but mostly they just nodded. Bridget wondered how on earth they could keep track of three different conversations at once; she suspected that her parents just vaguely listened to these tales because they always had other things on their minds anyway.

The first thing that Bridget did when they got home was to head towards their parlor. Inside their parlor was the baby grand piano that her parents had brought the summer she got her Hogwarts letter. Bridget had always loved music and had been playing the piano since she was three. She ran her fingers fondly over the keys; she missed the piano when she was at Hogwarts because there were no music classes at the school. She wondered how she’d continue her lessons at Hogwarts but in her first year, she had discovered a small door in the Ravenclaw common room and when she opened it, it was a small room with a fireplace and an antique upright piano. After consulting with Professor Flitwick and with Professor Dumbledore, they agreed that she could use the old piano to practice and her teacher could come once a week for an hour to help her. She gave up trying to close the door after the first week; people just kept opening it. So, for six years, the Ravenclaws were treated to piano sonatas, concertos, opuses, whatever else she decided to play, and the occasional yells in Russian (thanks to her teacher) during the evenings spent in the common room. Bridget had disturbed the fine layer of dust that was on the keys of the piano, so she picked up a cleaning cloth left on the table and started cleaning the keys. The piano was rarely, if ever, used so there was always dust on it when she came back for the summer. She pressed a few keys and sighed, it was out of tune.

“Mum, we need to get the piano tuned.”

“Okay dear, thank you. Please go and unpack now.”

“Okay.”

Chapter 2 - Disillusioned

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Bridget’s family wasn’t like other wizard families. Unlike other witches and wizards, her family rarely did magic, they preferred to do many things the Muggle way. They had a phone, electricity, a car, and they even had many Muggle friends. All of this was was a rarity among the wizard community and what made it even more odd was that Bridget’s mother worked for the Ministry of Magic. Bridget knew that it was because of her; they led a life much like Muggles, rarely using magic because of her . They hadn’t always lived as Muggles. They had led lives much like any other wizard family. Her father was an Auror while her mother worked as an administrator for the Department of International Relations of the Ministry of Magic. When she was three, dark wizards had broken into their home and had tied up her parents. They wanted revenge on her father, so they tried to take her as a hostage, but before they could stuff her into the sack they carried though, a powerful wave of magic leveled the house and knocked the intruders out, but left her and her parents without a scratch. Once the dust was clear, she could see the looks that her parents exchanged between them, just because she didn’t know what happened didn’t mean they didn’t. The Ministry came soon afterwards and interviewed her parents about the incident. The Ministry officials seemed very nervous around her afterwards so she came to the conclusion that the powerful magic must have come from her. Soon afterwards, her mother got promoted to an ambassador and they were always moving from place to place and she suspected that her mother had pushed this because of her. Her father tried to quit his job, but he soon saw that it was much safer for them all if he stayed as an Auror.

As she got older, she learned to control and restrain this power. She hated and feared it; she feared it because it was powerful always pushing against the barriers that she had built up over the last 13 years and it was always trying to break away from the control she had gained over it. She hated it because it was because she had it that she was always running. On her fourth birthday, her parents had given her a necklace that had a Silver Star pendant. Later on she found out that it held ancient powerful protections spells. They also forbade her to ever use that power ever again. She didn’t see why they had to tell her; she was downright scared of it and what it could do if she used it. The one and only time she had used it, it had leveled a house. That much power just thoroughly frightened her. Dark wizards and witches were always after her so she had never felt safe until she had gone to Hogwarts. Dumbledore made sure that if she never felt safe anywhere else, at least she’d feel safe at schoo.

So many people wanted her power and as far as she was concerned, they could have it. Other Ministry officials who had children knew that there was something peculiar about Bridget so whenever she came to visit, they always said that their children were out and wouldn’t be back until late that evening. They didn’t want their children mixed up with a child like Bridget. As a child, she had very few wizards or witches as friends so she just made friends with Muggle children. That was her life until she received her Hogwarts letter. That summer her mother resigned from her position as ambassador and took up her old job as administrator of her department. They had settled in a neighborhood where wizarding families had lived for centuries and where ancient and powerful spells of protection were laid over the years. That letter had been a bright spot of hope in her life. She thought that at Hogwarts, she might find a way to protect herself so that she could stop running or maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to rid herself of this power. She quickly became disillusioned by magic though, once she found that there was really no way for her to ever be safe or to rid herself of that power because it was too much a part of her. Teachers, especially Professor Dumbledore, were always telling her that her power was gift—she didn’t believe them. Gift? Yeah right, some gift, thought Bridget bitterly as she fingered the star pendant that hung around her neck, this isn’t a gift; it’s a curse.

Chapter 3 - Secrets and Dreams

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“Bridget, come on, hurry up. We’re going to be late for the movie,” complained her Muggle friend Natalie.

“Okay, okay Nat, could you just let me close the door at least?” asked Bridget, obviously annoyed. “Got it,” said Bridget as the door clicked behind her.

“Good. Come on, Ryan, Mark and Sarah are waiting for us up the street,” said Natalie as she pulled Bridget down the block leaving her very little time to pull her keys from the door.

“Okay. Nat? Could you please let go of my arm?”

“Oh, sorry Bridget,” said Natalie as she released Bridget’s arm from her grasp. Bridget massaged her arm, Natalie had a strong grip, but she never seemed to notice that.

[potterknowitall]

Evelyn - A Chance to Change Destiny, con’t[/color][/b]

They met up with Ryan, Mark, and Sarah and together, they all walked to the cinema. Ryan was a Muggle just like Natalie and Mark and Sarah both would be seventh years at Hogwarts come September first. Bridget had a few other Muggle friends, but Ryan and Natalie were her best Muggle friends. Bridget’s witch and wizard friends had grown used to having outings with Muggles and had become quite good at acting just like a typical Muggle teenager. They had even become quite good at handling Muggle money so that they no longer said Sickle, Galleon or Knut by accident. They also no longer carried wizard money with them when they went anywhere with Bridget, unless they were told. Bridget’s Muggle friends didn’t know that she was a witch, she never told them and as far as she was concerned, she never planned on telling them. They just believed that her, her brother, her sister, Mark, Sarah, Adrienne and Brendan all went to a private boarding school—which really wasn’t far from the truth, when you think about it.

They had a grand time at the movies and then they went to the park and rented some canoes and spent the whole day there. Bridget was lost in a daydream enjoying the peace of the pond, lost to the conversation around her. She was so lost in fact that she didn’t hear the question that Ryan was asking her.

“Bridget, hey, earth to Bridget. You in there?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry.”

“So, how many years do you have left at that school that you guys go to?”

Bridget, Mark and Sarah exchanged nervous glances, they hated it when the Muggles brought up Hogwarts, they were afraid that something would slip.

“Oh, um…well, next year is out last year.”

“Really? Cool, so what are you doing afterwards?”

Again, they looked nervously at each other. What could they tell them?

“I’m not sure yet. Mark, what about you?”

“Same. Sarah?”

“Ditto.”

“Well, if you guys only have one year left, you better decide what you plan to do with yourselves, most of the kids who have one year left already have plans.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” said Sarah at last.

In truth, Sarah, Ryan and Bridget already knew what they wanted to do after Hogwarts. Ryan wanted to work in the Ministry, Sarah wanted to be a doctor, and Bridget wanted to be an archeologist. Ryan had a natural talent for languages and knew how to fluently speak over 30 different ones (he had a grand time speaking to all the different witches and wizards during the World Cup last summer), so, naturally, he wanted to work in the Department of International Realations of the Ministry. Sarah had always been something of a philanthropist and after reading about the state of healthcare in St. Mungo’s, she decided then and there that she would become a doctor and be on the forefront of healthcare reform. Bridget had always loved reading about the ancient writings, structures and artifacts left behind by witches and wizards from long ago. She loved trying to guess the purpose for the ancient buildings and artifacts and the ancient writings were really quite interesting.

“Bye Natalie! Bye Ryan!”

“Bye Sarah! Bye Mark! Bye Bridget!”

“Bye. See you guys some other time.”

“’Kay.”

“Bridget, as much as I like Natalie and Ryan, they ask too many questions.”

“Yes, I know, Mark, I know,” said Bridget with a sigh.

The question about how long they had at Hogwarts wasn’t the end of it, oh no, it was actually the beginning. Then they wanted to know what kinds of things were taught at Hogwarts and where was it exactly? Was it far or near? Bridget never mentioned anything about it and they wanted to know why. How come they never saw them buying school supplies around town? What exactly did their parents do again? How come every time they visited one of their houses, it seemed so posed? How come they only saw a computer in Bridget’s house? Didn’t the others own computers or even laptops? Why did they only see phones in Bridget’s house? Did they all own cell phones or something? Was Bridget’s mom the only one who actually knew how to cook? How come they always had takeout at the others houses? How come they never saw any pictures of their other friends at school? Why didn’t they have yearbooks so that they could see their teachers and classmates? Why didn’t they have any pictures of their school? How did they get to school anyway? Did their parents drive them? Did they take a train or a plane? Why was Bridget’s house the only one to have a car in their driveway? Didn’t their parents have cars? Or did they take the train or taxi or something? Come to think of it, they hardly knew anything about Bridget, her family or all of her friends who went to that private boarding school. They’ve known each other for six years but they knew so little about them. Why was that? How in the world did they fail to ask them about these things in the six years they’ve known them?

It took a whole lot of dodging and elaborate lying to somewhat satisfy these sudden questions. They knew that they still weren’t satisfied with what they told them, (why would anyone hide phones in closets anyway? or lend your car to a friend for the whole summer when you need it?) but those were the answers they could think of on such short notice. Muggles didn’t miss anything, did they? All of them were immensely glad when it came time to go home because there would be no more time for even more probing questions. Too bad Muggles weren’t exactly keen on magic, because if they could tell them, it would make their summers together much easier. Well, at least they had all night to think of better stories to cover up all the oddities that the Muggles noticed—since that was the only thing that they could do.

Mark and Sarah came over to Bridget’s house for a while, but they had to leave for dinner. Tomorrow would be a Muggle free day; it would just be her, Mark, Sarah, and Brendan hanging out and talking. Bridget planned to teach them how to roller blade, last year she taught them how to ride bikes. She was also considering teaching them soccer, which was the Muggle sport that she loved to play in the summer. They probably wouldn’t mind, they liked learning all these Muggle things. Yes, she thought with a yawn, I’ll teach how to roller blade tomorrow. We have all…afternoon…after…all. Besides…they’re…quick…learners…

Bridget woke up with a start and when she looked around she realized that all the decoration in her room were from when she was three. She could hear her parents running around downstairs.

“Gwen, go! Grab Bridget! We have to leave now!”

“Are they after you Nick?”

“That I don’t know, but I really don’t want to stay and find out. Go! Go!”
Bridget heard her mother running into her room. “Bridget, honey, we have to leave right now.”

“Mummy, why?” asked Bridget as she watched her mother tear open drawers and stuff things into one of the bags that lay at her feet.

“There are some bad people coming and we have to leave, understand?”

Bridget opened her mouth and was about to ask about her older brother Chris but her mother answered her unspoken question.

“We’re going to get Chris from his friend’s house as soon as we leave, Bridget.”

“Can we come back later, mummy?”

Her mother paused, “well, dear, I’m not sure. Bridget, honey, we may not be able to come back again, so we have to take what’s important to us right now.”

“Can I take my teddy bear?”

“Of course dear,” said her mother. “Here,” she said handing her one of the bags, “put what you want to put in there right now, and hurry,” she urged, as Nick pleaded with them to hurry up.

Bridget took her favourite stuffed bear and dog and put them in the bag, next she put in her favourite doll, the music box her grandmother gave her, and her favourite bedtime story book. Once her mother was done throwing clothes into the bag her feet, she grabbed Bridget and both the bags and ran down the stairs. Her father was at the bottom waiting for them, Bridget had never seen him so nervous. He was extremely pale and looked extremely frightened. He hurriedly herded them towards the back door in hopes of escaping the people trying to break into their house. Bridget could hear people pounding on the outside door, the door wouldn’t hold for long… CRACK!!! The outside door gave way and a group of dark witches and wizards came pouring in. A tall lanky wizard with dark hair, a sallow face and dark eyes seemed to be the leader of the group.

“So, at least, we meet, Hathway.”

“Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Don’t you recognize me, Hathway?”

“No, should I?”

“I’m hurt, Hathway. I remember you vividly,” answered the lanky man in mock disappointment, “you sent my brother to Azkaban and now I’ve come to return the favour.”

Nicholas Hathway’s face was contorted in anger as recognition dawned on him, “what do you want Levine?”

“What I told you, to return the favour,” answered the wizard quietly. “Don’t you remember? I told you that I’d get my revenge one day. I was never caught so I was free to formulate my plan and now I’ll avenge my brother, Hathway.” The lanky wizard took out his wand and pointed it at her father, “Expelliarmus!”

Her father crashed into the kitchen table.

“Get his wand,” ordered Levine, a witch with blond hair picked up his wand and pocketed it.

Her mother moved towards her father but a stumpy witch stood in her way. Her mother wasted no time, “Stupefy!” The witch fell backwards and her mother stepped over her. She rushed to her husband’s side.

“You shouldn’t have done that Gwen.”

“I couldn’t just leave you though.”

“You should of.”

“Your husband was right, but now, since you’ve decided to stay, you might as well enjoy the show. Grab her,” ordered Levine and two burly wizards grabbed her arms with one wrenching the wand from her hand and flinging it to one side. The wand rolled under the table.

[potterknowitall]

Evelyn - A Chance to Change Destiny, con’t[/color][/b]

"Since your wife has kindly decided that she would rather stay than flee,” said Levine as he paced around her father. “I think that we have a use for her then,” he pointed at her mother, “you will bring me the child.”

“No!” cried her mother. “Never!”

“You will,” said Levine in a dangerously quite voice. He pointed his wand at her, “Imperio! Now, bring me the child!”

Her mother mechanically grabbed Bridget’s hand and started hauling her across the floor, it seemed the more she twisted, the tighter her mother’s grasp became.

“Mummy, no! Mummy, please don’t!” she cried out, terrified. “You’re hurting me Mummy! STOP!”

“Gwen, DON’T!” cried out her father, who had gone milk white. “Fight it Gwen!”
“Shut up fool!” spat Levine. He pointed his wand at her father. “Crucio!”

Her father screamed with pain.

“DADDY!”

The screams from both her husband and her daughter seemed to help knock her mother out of her trance because she fell to the floor. As soon as she had let go of Bridget, Bridget ran into a corner next to the door.

“NO!” and her mother lunged at Levine. Another wizard pointed his wand at her.

“Crucio!”

Her mother fell to the ground in a crumple as she writhed in pain.

“We’ve wasted too much time here. Morgan, grab the child and gag her.”

“What are you going to do with her Aaron?”

“That is no of your business. Just grad her and tie up her parents and gag them as well,” said Levine as he and the other wizard raised their wands. He leaned close to them, “now, don’t go anywhere. I’m just going to take a souvenir with me, as a reminder what happens when you cross a Levine.”

Morgan half carried, half dragged the three-year-old across the room to where a sack lay. Bridget scratched, kicked, pulled, pinched, spat, twisted, anything she could do to get away but Morgan’s grip was firm. Panic seized her mind; they were going to stuff her into a sack and bring her who knows where. Her parents couldn’t help her; they were still lying on the floor and put up no fight when a witch quickly conjured tight ropes to bind them. The witch who had her father’s wand dropped it on the floor and kicked out of reach. What was she going to do? Rough hands were taking a gag and trying to wrap it around her, she tried hitting them but she found that she was already tied up. She couldn’t let them take her! As she felt herself giving into the panic that was threatening to make her hysterical, something within her was unleashed. The room was suddenly lit up by a blinding white light and the witch who was trying to put Bridget into the sack, dropped her on the floor as she shielded her eyes. Bridget could hear the wooden beams breaking and falling upstairs, the ceiling began to creak under the weight as more beams and furniture crashed down onto it. Levine and his group, guessing what was about to happen, started running for the door but it was jammed.

“Open the door fool!”

“I-I-I can’t! It’s jammed!”

“Stupid blundering buffoon! MOVE!”

Just then the ceiling gave way and broken beams, beds, dressers, chairs and pipes came showering down on them. Bridget rolled up into a ball and put her hands over her head, tears were running down her face; she was so scared. She could hear people screaming but she didn’t know who was screaming. For the longest time things just kept pouring down from the ceiling but then Bridget heard new sounds. The entire frame of the house was starting to give way. Bridget could hear as things started to fall all around her; she was so afraid that something would fall on her and flatten her. After a while, Bridget didn’t hear anything and when she dared a look up, she saw that she was in a midst of broken wood and plaster. Levine and his group lay to her far right in a heap, apparently knocked out and her parents were to her left looking extremely shaken.

“I’m coming for you child. Just you wait; I’m coming for you. Mwaahhhhh!!” called a menacing voice from the distance. “I’m coming for you!”

“Bridget! Wake up! Wake up, Bridget!” said Chris, shaking her.

Bridget woke up with a start and found her brother, Chris, standing over her looking very concerned. She touched her face and found that she was covered in a cold sweat.

“Are you okay?” asked Chris, his voice full of concern.

Bridget just nodded.

“Did you have that dream again?”

Again, she just nodded. She’d had that dream ever since she was three, right after Levine and his group had broken into her house and tried to take her. This one was different though, that menacing voice had never been there before, Levine and his group were knocked out cold and her parents were too dumbstruck to even speak. That voice had frightened her more than Levine had and he was pretty intimidating himself. It took her awhile to realize that she was actually shaking, even when she was little, she never woke up from this dream shaking all over and covered in a cold sweat. What was wrong with her?

Chris looked a her closely,” are you sure you’re okay?”

She nodded again, “I…I…just have to…open up the window.”

Chris said goodnight and went back to his room. Bridget hurried over to her window and threw it open. The night air washed over her and calmed her but she still couldn’t go back to sleep. That voice was till annoying her, who did it belong too? More importantly, why did they want her?

That whole week, she kept on having that dream over and over again and each time that voice seemed to get louder, even more menacing and closer. When she’d wake up, she would find that she was shaking and covered in a cold sweat. Even the night air couldn’t calm her now. During the day she was jumpy and distracted. She finally couldn’t stand it any more and made herself a dreamless sleep potion but even the potion couldn’t shake off the feeling that someone was watching her.

If she had bothered to look up at night, she would have found out that she was right.

Chapter 4 - Because of Me

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“Congratulations, Christian.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Candler.”

“Hey Chris!”

Chris smiled; his friends had finally arrived. A pretty and slim girl with honey colored curly hair detached herself from the group. Chris’ smile grew even broader because this was Charlotte, his girlfriend.

“Hey there,” said Charlotte with a smile.

“Hey there yourself,” answered Chris as he kissed her on the cheek.

“Okay you two lovebirds, are we going to go in or just hang around in your driveway, Chris?” asked his friend, Bradley.

Chris blushed, “sure, we can go in.”

They were having a party to celebrate Chris’ completion of his last year at Hogwarts. He planned to study the Egyptian wizards. Come September, he’d be off to Egypt so it was also sort of a going away party too. All of Chris’ friends had also finished their last year at Hogwarts and would be leaving for all their new jobs around September, like Chris. Bradley was going to work for Gringotts, Jonathon was going to work for the Ministry, Annette was going to become a teacher, Charlotte planned to work for the Daily Prophet and Jonathon wanted to become a chef. They all couldn’t wait to start their brand new careers but they knew that they’d all miss each other; after spending seven year together during school and visiting over the summer holiday, they would all be going to different places to start their careers.

Chris, Charlotte, Bradley, Annette and Jonathon entered the Hathway’s backyard where many people were milling about. Bridget and her friends could be seen sitting at a table and talking. Decorations can be seen hanging around that say things like Congrats Grad, You did it!, Congratulations on your graduation and other stuff like that. Of course, this is all quite foreign to most of their guests because those are all Muggle decorations. None of their Muggle friends were there, they made sure to plan it on a date that none of them could attend—they couldn’t afford having any slip ups. The party was just a lot of fun and to any outsider; it would just look like any regular graduation party, until you started listening to conversations anyway.

“—Yes, I do believe that England is doing much better in Quidditch this season, but—”

“—My house-elf is such a dream, such a wonderful helper.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I don’t understand why most of our kind treat them like slaves. They’re much more agreeable when they’re treated decently.”

“I agree whole heartedly with you Angie.”

“Has your daughter taken her Apparition test yet?”

“Why oh yes, she did last week. Did it perfectly the first time through, I might add.”

“Wonderful, knew she was a bright one.”

Too soon the party ended, no one wanted it to end. Bridget’s family stood in their doorway and watched all their guests leave. Long after the last guest had left, Chris was still standing on the porch as the streetlights came on. Bridget was watching him from her bedroom window until it was too dark to see. Neither of them was aware that up above their house two people sat watching and talking.

“Can’t we just grab her tonight? This watching is getting quite boring.”

“Idiot!” hissed a female voice. “Don’t you remember what I told you?”

The second figure, a man in a dark blue robe, shook his head.

The woman, who was wearing a dark red robe, sighed. “The land all around their house and all the houses in this part of town is guarded by ancient magic, ancient protections spells to keep the likes of us out. We wouldn’t be able to even set foot on it. No, I have a better plan she cares a lot for those two Muggles we saw her with yesterday. I think that we can use them to our advantage. Come.”

The two turned their broomsticks around and sped away into the night.

“What are you doing?” asked the man.

“Sending an email,” answered the woman.

“A what?”

[potterknowitall]

Evelyn - A Chance to Change Destiny, con’t[/color][/b]

The woman sighed. “It’s a way Muggles communicate Adrian.”

“And this is important because…”

“Because this is how we’re going to lure the Muggles to us. She’ll undoubtedly want to rescue them and will do whatever is necessary to make sure they are returned safe and unharmed.”

“You’re such a genius Cassandra.”

“Well, one of us has to be,” answered the woman. “Done,” she said as she pressed send.

“Now what?”

“We wait.”

“That’s it? We wait?”

“Yes.”

“But what if it doesn’t work?”

“Well, then, we may have to persuade them to come.”

Both Ryan and Natalie read “Bridget’s” email asking them to meet her tomorrow at Ridge point but only Ryan could make it. When they both replied, Cassandra was only semi happy.

“Drat! Only one Muggle can come.”

“But shouldn’t you be happy to have the other one?”


“I suppose, but I wanted both to be there. Hm, seems like I must revise the plan then. Adrian, I am not to be disturbed for the rest of the night. Anything that happens, you are to handle, even a buffoon like you can’t screw up all the time.”

“Of course. I never knew that you had such confidence in me.”

“It was not a compliment,” said Cassandra curtly, she then slammed the door and did not come out until morning.

Ryan stood waiting at Ridge Point; Bridget was late. He sighed; he had another appointment that he had to be in about an hour and half. If she didn’t show up soon, he’d leave because he had to go to the other side of town and the traffic during this time of day was horrid. He checked his watch again; ten minutes, he’d give her ten more minutes. Where is she? Since she made it sound so important, you’d think that she’d be here on time, but nooo. He was just about to go when heard a sound behind him, he whirled around to see a tall blond woman dressed in black was accompanied bye a stout brown haired man, also dressed in black.

“So, good of you to come, Ryan is it?” said the woman in an oily voice.

“Who are you? And how do you know my name? I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

“Yes, I suppose you haven’t. It doesn’t matter who I am boy.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not after you, I want your little friend,Bridget, but since I can’t get her, I’ll just use you to get to her.”

“Why do you want Bridget?”

“None of your business boy,” snapped the woman. She motioned to the man, “grab him.”

Ryan turned and started to run but the man appeared right in front of him.

“Going somewhere?” he asked mockingly.

Before Ryan could answer, the man had grabbed him and conjured up ropes to tie him up.

“Good, now put him into the bag, Adrian,” said the woman lazily.

A look of panic started to appear on the man’s face, “the-the bag?”

“Yes, I said the bag, didn’t you hear me correctly?”

“I thought you brought the bag,” said the man quietly.
“WHAT?” roared the woman, “ you forgot the bag? You imbecile! I gave one simple job and you go and screw it up! What, tell me, what did I do to deserve such a blundering idiot as a partner.”

The man opened his mouth to answer but the woman cut him off.

“Don’t you even dare answer that question.”

“But-but-but you said tell me!”

“I don’t care! Just put him in here, now!” she roared, as she conjured up a bag.

The man started to slowly drag the fighting Ryan
towards the bag that the woman was holding up.

“Hurry up!” she snapped, “We don’t have all day you know!”

Natalie was walking towards Ridge Point; maybe she could still make it, her karate practice ended early than she thought. As she got closer, she saw Ryan tied up and a stout man trying desperately to bring to where a woman with a bag stood. Oh no, she thought, it was all a set up. She ran towards Ryan and the man and tackled him from the back. The man had the wind knocked out of him and dropped Ryan, who rolled out of the way. Natalie was no attacking the man fully, now that there was no danger of hitting Ryan. She had up against a tree trunk and was about to knock him unconscious when he pulled his wand out of his robes.

“Expelliarmus!”

Natalie was thrown backwards; her head hit the boulder ten feet behind her. She slumped down with blood trickling from her hairline.

“Imbecile!” bellowed the woman.”

“I panicked!” gasped the man.

“Come on! We’re leaving now!”

“What about the boy?” asked the man bewildered.

“Leave him!” she snapped, “now, let’s go!”

Both the man and the woman disappeared into thin air as a bewildered Ryan watched.

“Natalie?” he whispered, “Nat?”

She didn’t move; in fact there seemed to be even more blood trickling down her face now. He slowly started to crawl towards her because he was still tied up. He could hear sirens in the distance; he could only hope that they were coming to Ridge Point. He had almost made it to her when he heard feet pounding towards him. Rough hands grabbed him and cut the ropes, and then he was whisked away into an ambulance. The last time he saw Natalie was when an E.M.T. was squatting next to her feeling for a pulse in her neck, right before his ambulance drove away.

Fifteen minutes later, Bridget, Adrienne, Mark, Sarah and Brendan came into in the emergency room. They had been walking downtown when two ambulances came by, one driving fast and the other with its sirens on. They had also caught sight of a Ministry official, dressed as a Muggle police officer, who was hurrying towards the hospital, after much pressing, he had finally told them what happened. Apparently, a dark wizard and witch had lured two Muggles to a place called “Ridge Point” and had tried to kidnap them but they had failed. What peaked their interest was the name of the two Muggles attacked, Ryan and Natalie. They were all desperately hoping that the two Muggles attacked weren’t Ryan and Natalie but Bridget had a sinking feeling that the Muggles were Ryan and Natalie. They spent five more minutes pleading with the nurse at the desk to please let them see the victims from Ridge Point, she wasn’t about to let go and see them until their families had been contacted. They were just about to give up when the same Ministry official came and told the nurse to let them go, needless to say, she wasn’t the least bit thrilled, but he was after all a cop.

He dragged into an empty exam room and magically sealed the door shut. There was complete silence for a few minutes as the Ministry official tried to gather up the courage to tell them exactly what happened to their friends. Bridget and her friends, meanwhile, were looking expectantly at him.

“Well?” asked Adrienne, breaking the unbearable silence. “Why did you bring us in here?”

“Uh, well, you see, that’s a very interesting question, one which I intend to answer, of course,” said the Ministry Official looking around at everything but Bridget and her friends. “Oh look,” he said pointing at the tools that lay on the examination tray, “what interesting contraptions these Muggles have.”

“Well?” chorused all five of them, looking expectantly at the Ministry official.

He sighed; it was now or never. “Perhaps you’d all better sit down.”
There was only one chair in sight.

“Or stand, if you prefer. As you know, a dark witch and wizard attacked two Muggles at Ridge Point; I believe you know them, two friends of yours, Ryan and Natalie.”
All five of them nodded their heads.

“There were lured there, because, well, because they thought that you could use them to get to you, Bridget,” said the Ministry official, not looking at Bridget but at the wall clock.

“Me?!” sputtered Bridget. “Why in the world would they want me?”

The Ministry shook his head; he’d answer all questions after he finished telling them what happened.

“According to Ryan, he was attacked by the witch and wizard but then Natalie had come to his rescue. She had gone after the man, who had tied him up but he was able to throw her back into the boulder behind her, from what he told our people, the man had used the disarming spell against her.”

“But she doesn’t have a wand!” interrupted Brendan.

“It doesn’t matter, the effect was still the same.”

“Then, it seems as if they had Disapparated because when we got there, there were nowhere to be seen.”

“What about Ran and Natalie?” asked Sarah urgently. “They’re alright, aren’t they?”

“Um, well, you see,” said the Ministry official looking extremely uncomfortable. “Well, the boy, Ryan, he should be alright. The Muggle doctors expect him to make a full recovery.”

“What about Natalie?” asked Bridget quietly.

“The Muggle doctors did all they could for her, they really did, I saw them, but they couldn’t save her,” said the Ministry official quietly.

All five of them stood in shocked silence for what seemed like an eternity. Suddenly, Bridget stumbled backwards and was caught by Brendan who stood there, stunned. Tears started to pour down Sarah and Adrienne’s faces. Mark just stood there with his mouth agape. The Ministry official just stood there looking extremely uncomfortable as he racked his brain to find something comforting to tell them.

[potterknowitall]

Evelyn - A Chance to Change Destiny, con’t[/color][/b]

Bridget’s mind buzzed, Natalie was dead. She was dead; she wouldn’t be coming back. How could this have happened? How? She’s not dead, she thought. You know better said a small voice inside her head. She not dead! She can’t be, she added firmly. Don’t kid yourself dear, you better than that. The sooner you accept it, the sooner you can move on. But why? Why did she have to die? Everything happens for a reason, even if you can’t see it was the answer. Bridget suddenly became aware that tears were also pouring down her face but she didn’t care. A new thought entered her mind; I’ll kill them. I’ll make them pay for what they did. Be rational dear said the same small voice. I am being rational! No, you’re not, countered the voice. You’re letting your anger get the best of you. So what if I am? If you let your anger get the best of you, you won’t see clearly, dear, you may miss a solution that you can only see when you’re thinking clearly. She didn’t realize it, but Brendan had sat her down in the chair and was now looking worriedly at her.

“Bridget, it’s not worth it,” said Brendan quietly.

Bridget looked up at him, startled. How could he have known that she wanted to go after those two who killed her friend?

“What are you talking about Brendan?” she asked just as quietly.

“I agree that they should pay, but going after then yourself is just foolish.”

“Why?” countered Bridget. “Natalie’s dead because of me.”

“You shouldn’t blame yourself, Bridget.”

“And why not? Everything happens because of me. It’s all my fault,” she added quietly.

“Everything isn’t your fault, Bridget,” said Sarah quietly and Adrienne, Mark and Brendan nodded in agreement.

“Yes, it is!”

The air in the room had gone extremely cold quite suddenly and things were starting to rattle, as if there was a slight earthquake. The Ministry official’s face went milk white; he had heard the stories about her and what happened when she was three. At three, she had enough power and control to level a house but still mange to come out of it unscathed. He was sure that thirteen years later she could level city blocks if she wanted to. Brendan, Sarah, Mark and Adrienne looked at each other nervously, of course, they of Bridget’s power but they had never seen her use it and now that she was letting her control slip, what she might be capable of doing was scary.

“We kept on moving ever since I was three because of me, we live just like Muggles because of me, other wizarding families kept their children away from me because of what I’m capable of, people are always after me because of what I possess and now, someone is dead because of me.”

Brendan grabbed her around the shoulders and shook her.

“Look at me, Bridget. You’re letting your anger get the best of you and you know better. Calm down okay? You’re not thinking clearly and you’re letting your control slip.”

Bridget took a deep breath and the air returned to its normal temperature and the objects stopped rattling. The Ministry official unsealed the door and they all went to see Ryan, who still had no idea what had happened to Natalie. It took all the courage that they could all muster to stand there and tell him that Natalie was dead. Soon, her parents arrived to take them all home. The silence that enveloped the car ride was deafening. As soon as the car had stopped, Bridget ran up to her room and grabbed her broom. She ran to her backyard, kicked off and flew away as fast as she could.

“Mum, do you think that it’s safe for her to go off alone? After all, there are people after her,” said Chris and Meredith nodded in agreement.

“Only a great fool would dare cross her now,” answered her mother quietly.

Chapter 5 - The Chance of a Lifetime

[/center]


The next few days were extremely hard for Bridget and her friends because they were the only ones who truly knew how Natalie had died. The Ministry had modified Ryan’s memory, to make it seem like she had fallen out of a tree that she was climbing and hit her head. Bridget spent most of those days at her spot, the cliff in a deserted stretch of beach. While she was there, the wind would tear mercilessly at tree branches, tearing away leaves, uprooting plants, pick up rocks, sand and twigs on the ground, turning them into projectiles, whipping her hair all around her head and whipping her face mercilessly. Meanwhile, the waves were stronger than they had ever been and anything that got caught in them with be dashed into tiny pieces the instant they hit the rocks below. This wasn’t her doing though, that whole week, the sea was more unruly than it had ever been, but that was weather, she was careful to not lose her control. Though, sometimes, it slipped a little and things would be stronger for about minute before the wind and sea returned to their usual ferocity. So, the Ministry did nothing about these occasional slip-ups, besides most were downright scared of Bridget and her power and all agreed that if anyone needed training, it was her. Bridget’s anger no longer got the best of her and she knew that the Ministry should be the ones to handle this and she secretly hoped that the Ministry caught them before she could come across them herself because she was still angry at them.

The next time she even saw Ryan was when they went to Natalie’s wake. Bridget didn’t want to go and see her in her coffin but her friends had persuaded her to go and she went up with Ryan and Adrienne. The Natalie that was in the coffin looked only remotely like the Natalie she had known in life because of all the make-up on her, Natalie hardly wore make-up when she was alive. In the six years she had known her, she could count on one hand how many times she saw Natalie with any make-up on. The most trying time had to be at the funeral, where she had been asked to play one of Natalie’s favourite pieces. It was a piece that Bridget knew extremely well, which was good because she could hardly see the keys through all her tears. Mark and Brendan had been asked to be pallbearers along with Ryan along with Natalie’s twin brother, Joshua.

Bridget couldn’t wait to get home, the funeral completely unbearable. Everyone kept giving her and her friends pitying looks. She didn’t mind empathy but she hated pity. No one spoke during the ride home, which gave Bridget a lot of time to think. She wished that someone would say something; she didn’t want to think right now.

“I’ve been wondering when you’d get back.”

They all jumped. A woman with chocolate brown hair dressed in white was standing in their parlor.

“Who are you and how did you get into our house?” demanded her mother.

“Who I am and how I got here are of no importance. I’m here to talk to your daughter, Bridget.”

“Why do you want to talk to Bridget?” asked Meredith.

“It’s about her gift,” said the woman, floating, yes, I said floating, towards Bridget.

Bridget forced herself to laugh, “gift? You call this a gift? Lady, this is no gift, it’s a curse and nothing more,” said Bridget bitterly.

“Do you really believe that?” asked the woman quietly.

“Yes,” said Bridget firmly. “Wait, how do you know about my power?”

“Easy, because we were the ones who gave it to you.”

“Er—we? You mean that there’s more than one of you?”

The woman smiled, “ yes, but we’re all different people. We bestow gifts like yours to people who we believe can use to them to achieve the most good.”

“Have you ever made a mistake?”

“No, why?”

“Then I’m your first mistake.”

The woman sighed, “Yes, I suppose you are. We had hoped that you would learn to accept it and use it but after thirteen years of watching and waiting, it seems as if we must admit defeat.”

“Did you come all this way to just tell me that?”

“No, I am here to offer you a choice, keep your gift or give it up.”

“Well, that’s an easy choice,” said Bridget, interrupting. “I don’t wan—”

The woman held up her hand, “please, do not take this lightly, if you choose to give it up, you will lose all your magic because your gift is connected to it. If you choose to keep it, then your life will remain the same.”

“If I choose to give it up, will I still have my memories?”

“Yes, we are giving you a chance to decide your future, what you decide will not affect your past. I will come back soon to find out your choice, you may talk to whoever you wish about and ask for their advice but the choice is yours and yours alone, so please, choose wisely.”

The woman just faded away and Bridget was left standing alone in the middle of the parlor.

Chapter 6 - A Chance to Make a Difference

[/center]


Bridget sat and watched the sea waves lap at the shore; the sea was calmer today. The breeze played with her hair and just barely made the leaves on the trees rustle. She breathed in deep; it was always easy to think up here. She closed her eyes and just sat thinking lulled by the crash of the waves. She was so deep in thought, nearly asleep really, that she didn’t hear Adrienne coming up behind her.

“So, this is where you’re always disappearing off to.”
Bridget jumped; she didn’t think anyone else knew about this spot. She turned around to find Adrienne smiling at her.

“How did you find me?”

“Easy, I know you, “ said Adrienne sitting down next to her. “I went to your house and your Mum said that you had gone for a ride, you told me once that you had always found the sea claming and you had always liked heights.”

“Oh, I’m that easy to figure out, am I?’ asked Bridget raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, in fact you are,” said Adrienne smiling at her, “you would climb to the castle roof each night if you were allowed to. So, all I had to do was find the highest point on the beach and this is it.”

“Well, I’m glad to know that I’m so predictable.”

[potterknowitall]

Evelyn - A Chance to Change Destiny, con’t[/color][/b]

“Meredith told me all about the lady.”

“Figures, she could never keep a secret.”

“Have you decided yet?”

“No.”

“Do you know when she’ll be back?”

“No.”

"If you chose to give up your magic, what would you do?”

Bridget shrugged, “I dunno. I guess I’d end up going to a Muggle school since I wouldn’t be able to go to Hogwarts anymore.”

“Oh.”

“Adrienne, don’t sound so sad, it’s not like I’ve actually made my decision yet.”

“Bridget, answer me honestly, okay? If you had to choose right now, what would you choose?”

Bridget was silent for a very long time.


“If I had to choose right now, I’d have to say that I would choose to give it up, “ said Bridget quietly.

“Oh.”

“I’m just so tired of running all the time. I’ve never felt safe anywhere, until I went to Hogwarts anyway but next is my last year there, I’m going to leave the only place that I’d ever felt safe in. I’m tired of having people fear me and having dark witches and wizards always after my 'gift'.”

“But you can change that, Meredith told me that the woman was hoping that you’d use your gift for good.”

“It’s not a gift,” said Bridget quietly. “No gift would take away a friend.”

“Bridget, don’t you know why they want your gift?”

Bridget shook her head.

“It’s because in their whole life, they’ll never have what you have. Okay look, you don’t need to use your wand for it to work, right?”

“Right,” said Bridget, thinking back to when she would use her power at Hogwarts. She could do all the spells without use of a wand.

“Well, think about it, how many would love to have your gift?”

“ Many, well, if they want it so badly, they can have it. I don’t want it.”


----------

The choice is yours and yours alone, those words kept running through Bridget’s head. She hasn’t seen or heard from the woman in white but it didn’t matter, she had made her choice. Even though she knew that a “gift” like hers was something special, it still didn’t make up for all the grief it caused her. All her friends and family have given their opinion and advice to her but as the woman said, the choice was hers and she’d have to live with it. She didn’t know what she’d really do once September first came around; she supposed that she’d have to enroll into a Muggle school. She could still do archeology but she she’d have to find a Muggle college or university to go to soon. She went and grabbed her broom; she wanted to take one last ride, who knew when that woman would be back.

Bridget had always loved flying. She loved being able to fly with the birds; of course, it always surprised them to see a human flying with them. Once she made her choice, she knew that she’d never be able to fly again but it was a small price to pay for safety. There were actually a lot of things that she’d miss about being a witch, she had been a witch for the past 16 years to give it all up was big. She’d miss her friends when they would be at Hogwarts for the school year. She’d miss Hogwarts too, she had visited a Muggle school once when she was ten, and their subjects were extremely boring. She shook her head, she couldn’t have any second thoughts now, she had made her choice and she was going to go through with it.

Bridget landed on the cliff but she had never been down on the beach before so walked down to it. The sky was very overcast, the storm would probably hit sometime tonight. She’d just have to leave before then. The waves were strong today and so was the wind; she could see a sailboat out in the distance, being tossed about by the sea. Were these Muggles daft? Didn’t they realize that a storm was going to hit? What would possess a person to risk sailing just before a storm was going to hit? It wasn’t like the sailboat could come back so easily; the wind would make it extremely difficult. Her parents had brought them sailing one summer, the day had been calm for most part but it had become extremely windy and getting back to shore had been a fight, even with magic it had been a fight and her parents were experienced sailors. Those people out there were probably Muggles and they wouldn’t have magic to save them. She looked up at the sky; the clouds had become darker than they had been before and over the ocean, the sky looker black. Apparently the storm was going to hit sooner than she thought. How right she was as rain started to pour down in sheets.

“Damnit!”

The sea was tossing the little sailboat as if it were nothing more than a toy. Lightning had also started and was appearing close to the sailboat. Bridget ran the length of beach until she was even with the sailboat. The wind had become stronger and hail had also started coming down.

“Ouch, ouch. ouch!”

Bridget searched within her and threw out some of her power to make into a shield. The hail bounce off it but it was coming down hard and she didn’t know how long it would hold, she had never done that before. She had to think fast if she wanted to help those people out on the sailboat. A strong wave had engulfed the boat; she hoped that the people were still all right. She stuck her hand into her pocket and found her wand, she didn’t remember putting it there but it couldn’t help her now, not if wanted to be expelled before she made her choice. You’re probably already expelled now, she thought. Anyway, she didn’t know of any spells that she could use to save them and she didn’t think that she could summon all of them at once and now was not the time to try and find out. Silly! Use your gift said a small voice in her head. But I don’t know what I can do with it! I might blow them up or worse! How do you know what you can and can’t do unless you try? But if I use it then they’ll I’m a witch. You don’t have to bring them off the boat; you just have to make sure that they get to shore safely. But when they get to shore, they’ll find out. Then hide!

Bridget broke her shield and ran to a rock behind her, tripping over her broom in the process. She grabbed it . She had to concentrate now but what could she do? She had never used her power for something like this, well, except for when she leveled her house, but the was purely an accident. Think! You can control the wind and waves, interrupted the same voice. How do you know? How do you know you can’t if you haven’t tried? Fine, she snapped, I’ll try. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and concentrated on calming the waves when she opened them; she saw that though the waves were still stronger they weren’t as strong as they had been before. She took another deep breath, closed her eyes and started to concentrate. The wind would be a lot harder to control than the waves, they had done what she wanted without a fight but the wind was fighting her. She was trying to make come towards land instead of out to sea but it didn’t want to. Come on! Behave! I know that you can behave, she snapped as she slammed the wind with power. The wind started to change direction very slowly but she found that once it had started to change direction, it was easier to control. Once she saw that the sailboat was coming closer to her, she cut her ties to the wind and watched the boat’s progress. The people and the boat were battered but they were safe, that much she could see. Once they were only about 20 feet from the shore she hopped on her broom and kicked off, flying low until she was clear of the beach.

Amazingly enough, the Ministry had not had her expelled from Hogwarts. They said that since she hadn’t used her power to get them off their boat, only to calm the sea and wind, the Muggles would think that it was the weather’s doing—not magic. They had insisted, though, that she was to not use it again, until the start of the school year though and her family was keeping a closer eye on her. The woman in white still hadn’t shown up yet and Bridget was tired of waiting. No one knew what choice she had made and she wasn’t about to tell them either, they could find out when the woman did. She was sitting at the piano playing when she heard a familiar voice.

“My, you play so beautifully.”

Bridget turned around to see the woman in white standing the middle of the parlor. Bridget’s family had come into the parlor followed by Adrienne and Brendan who had come over to visit.

“So, have you made you choice yet?”

“Yes, yes I have,” said Bridget standing up and walking to her. “I must admit that this ‘gift’ as you call it, has caused me much grief these past 13 years, but recently, I had the chance to make a difference with it.”

“Have you?”

“Yes, I now see just how much good I can do with it and I’d like to do more good with it. Besides, being a witch is too much a part of me and I don’t think that I could ever give that up.”

“So, is that your final decision?”

“Yes.”

“Very well then, you do realize that you’ll never get this chance again?”

“Yes.”

“Very well, it seems as if we haven’t made a mistake after all,” said the woman smiling.”

“No, it seems as if you were right all along,” said Bridget smiling back.

[potterknowitall]

Gryf - Gringotts Hidden Curse[/size]

Chapter 1 - The Favour

[/center]


The sun rose slowly over the vast desert sand. Its bright fingers of light pushed their way through the deep purple of the night sky turning it a warm red. He rolled over in bed and groaned softly, and stretched his limbs so they poked out from the corners of the large four-poster bed. "Yes," he thought, "this was worth it." He lazily got out of bed and dressed in a pair khaki pants and a lightweight white cotton shirt. He took a brush from the nightstand and combed his bright red hair then pulled it back into a ponytail.

Bill made his way across the large room to the kitchen, where he pulled out a kettle from a nearby cupboard, filled it with water and put it on the stove. "Yes," he thought again as he surveyed his surroundings, "it was worth the favour to borrow Eric's tent.” Eric Brown was a friend of Bill's who worked with him in Egypt for Gringotts.

They were Curse Breakers. Their job was to explore a newly discovered pyramid, break through the numerous curses that booby-trapped the ancient tombs, then collect the treasures within for Gringotts Bank. Gringotts was a wizard’s bank run by goblins. Eric had recently been assigned to explore the newly discovered Tomb of Queen Nailla.

Unfortunately, he had not been the first. Gringotts had lost two of its Curse Breakers at this pyramid in the lust for more treasure, and Eric was set to be the third. He had come to Bill and pleaded with him to take this assignment. Eric was the sort of person who manipulated his life around what he called "signs". Even though Bill liked Eric, he never understood why he worked here of all places.

He had had a nightmare. "The sand came rushing in," he said in a distressed voice, "...and it was up to my waist before I knew it. I tried to move but I was cemented where I stood. It rose to my chest crushing my lungs…I…I couldn’t breathe. I started coughing from the dust and then…the bottom fell out from beneath me. I screamed! And fell into blackness," he panted as if out of breath. "Then…I woke up."

Bill laughed out loud but stifled it quickly when he saw the hurt look on Eric’s face. "I'm sorry," Bill said with a tone of jest. "It's just...well it's just a dream, it doesn't mean anything."

"Maybe not to you, but it does to me," said Eric indignantly. "What do you say Bill, will you go?" he asked with a pleading look on his face

"Alright," said Bill. "On one condition...you lend me that new tent you got from your parents last Christmas. I'm tired of the ones Gringotts issue.” The tents were small and smelled of rotten meat with only a cot and a tiny stove.

Eric smiled very wide and let out a sigh of relief. “You got it!"

Chapter 2 - Gringotts Goonies

[/center]


The kettle whistled calling Bill from his thoughts. He took it off the stove, and brought it to the kitchen table. Then he got a plate, some scones and butter, and sat down at the table where a copy of The Daily Prophet was waiting for him. Pouring himself a cup of tea he looked down at the front page.

The headline read: "Gringotts Goonies Gone!"
Bill scanned the article as he buttered a scone and began to eat.

“The second of Gringotts Curse Breakers has turned up missing while exploring a new pyramid. Edward Millcrest, has been an employee of Gringotts for more than fifteen years. Gringotts officials report; “An expert in his field, he had requested this assignment after the disappearance of McGee a personal friend of Millcrest.” Victor McGee has been missing for more than two weeks. Sources say that the goblins are planning to send out yet another of it’s Curse Breakers though they are not saying whom. “It’s part of the job,” stated Lankmerk, Head of Egypt’s C.B. department.

“Mom will be having kittens when she reads this,” Bill said aloud. He swigged down the rest of his tea and got up from the table. A scratching sound came from the overstuffed black leather couch in the living room, and Bill walked over to it, pressing his hands between the cushions. His fingers grasped something small and soft; he gripped the object softly, pulling out a black fluffy creature. It was Gunther, his pet niffler.

Gunther was the only companionship Bill afforded himself on these excursions. He was also extremely useful when it came time to search for buried treasure. “Good morning Gunther,” Bill said as he retrieved a silver sickle from his mouth and petted his fluffy fur. “Thanks.” Gunther rooted affectionately between Bill’s fingers with his nose.

He picked up his backpack that lay on the floor by the carved oak coffee table and placed Gunther in the front pocket, he rooted around the corners before settling down into a still lump. Bill Weasley picked up his dragon hide boots then sat on the couch and pulled them on. He put his pack on his back – it was really much more than just a backpack…it was his life vest. It contained everything Bill would need for this trip: water, food, a shovel, magical rope, a compass, and much more. Amazingly, it was light…not weighing more than a couple pounds. Standing at the doorway of his tent he walked out, into the desert.

Half a mile hike and he would be at his destination, the pyramid of Queen Nailla. Thoughts of his boss Lankmerk drifted into his head. “So, you’re going to take Mr. Brown’s place,” Lankmerk grimaced. It was a statement rather than a question. The arrangements had already been made. “Be wary Mr. Weasley, Queen Nailla was a powerful witch. I am sure many horrors await you.” He grinned showing his many stained and jagged teeth. “It is said that she used her servants’ flesh in potions and none of her enemies lived long. She feared nothing…not even death.” Lankmerk’s expression flattened as he continued, “All her power and still death came to her.” His eyes met Bill’s, “Not by natural means…no, but in disguise. For nothing can save you from betrayal.”

Chapter 3 - Valley of the Sphinx

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Though the morning sun heated the desert quickly, a shiver went through Bill. He shook it off in an instant. Besides, he was a very capable wizard and this was not his first assignment. He had been in over eighty pyramids that were riddled with curses, and each of them had had their own stories of life and death.

He climbed a tall dune, his footsteps breaking the waves of ripples in the sand that stretched across its surface. Reaching the crest it came into view, the tomb of Queen Nailla. Two wizards had been lost to this pyramid. Would he find their bodies twisted and decayed…or worse yet would he find nothing at all?

Bill walked cautiously down the steep decline of the dune; the Pyramid sat just below in a valley surrounded by tall mountains of sand that towered over his head. He walked along the basin until he approached two large statues. Half woman, half lion…a Sphinx. They served as guardians to the pyramid that lay just beyond them. Suddenly their eyes opened and shifted down toward Bill. Their mouths cracked open as bits of stone and dust trickled to the valley floor. In unison they spoke.

It was ancient Egyptian. Bill listened carefully…then smiled. His wit, skill and fast reflexes were among the reasons he worked in Egypt. He would never have dreamed about getting a boring desk job at the Ministry. He loved that he earned for more than money; he earned his life.

A minute or two passed as he put the clues together…that was it. “Life” he answered in their ancient Egyptian tongue. The Sphinx’s mouths and eyes closed, becoming solid once more. He walked between them and felt the sand harden, turning to stone beneath his feet as reached the base of the pyramid. Of course there was no door, that was the first task…to find the entrance.

Bill pulled his backpack off his back, opened the flap, and took out a pair of sunglasses. Taking his wand from his front pocket he tapped the glasses and a red light penetrated the lenses. Returning the wand to his pocket, he put on the sunglasses, and looked up and down the outside walls. There! Up at the top…a brick was outlined in a red glow.

“Okay,” he thought, “that’s one, but there is always more than one entrance.” He went around to left side…nothing, and then another left to the back. There it was along the third layer from the bottom, a large stone just off center, its edges red. Bill stood in front of it, took out his wand, pointed it at the brick, and said, “Alohamora”. The stone pushed itself back inside the pyramid creating an opening large enough for him to climb through.

Crawling on his hands and knees through the depth of the stone he reached the edge of it. Wand in hand, he muttered, “Lumos”. A bright light escaped from the end illuminating the small chamber. “Hmm…” he thought, as the stale air of the tomb hit his nostrils. “Perhaps, not the best place to start.” The chamber was empty save a large collection of clay pots, which were neatly arranged. Bill got to his feet and moved to the center of the room. The stone that created his entrance lifted itself, and slid back into place.

Chapter 4 - The Four Corners

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The walls of the chamber were littered with Hieroglyphics. Bill took a few moments to examine them. They told stories of the great Queen, and the wonder of this pyramid. It was not uncommon to see such writings. Gunther squirmed excitedly in his backpack. “Not yet, my friend,” he whispered and the niffler settled down. To the left was a narrow doorway. With his wand leading the way he carefully walked down the long corridor. Here too lay rows and rows of hieroglyphics.

[potterknowitall]

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The floor suddenly took a steep downward slope and Bill almost lost his footing. Careful not to touch the walls for support, as this surely would pose a threat, he steadied himself and then tapped the bottom of each foot with his wand so that they stuck to the floor like suction cups. He made his way toward the bottom, his wand light illuminating the narrowing passage until it came to a dead end.

“I don’t think so,” he thought amusingly to himself. Bill took his wand and drew a door on the stone wall, a thin trace of gold light leaving a trail. Then he poked his wand at the center of the door…a tiny pinhole of bright white light shone through the wall. It grew bigger…now it was the size of a window. Still it grew brighter and larger. He sheltered his eyes from the light. Just as quickly as it started it stopped and if front of Bill was a massive doorway.

A huge room sat before him lit with over a hundred torches that lined its walls. Bill made to step inside the room but his feet were like lead. He took his wand and made sweeping motions at his feet. He felt the weight lift and he stepped into the room…a cold breeze whipped around him then was gone.

“Okay,” he muttered, “here we go.” This was unlike anything Bill had ever experienced. In the center of the room lay nearly thirty sarcophagi lying side-by-side making a large circle, and in each corner of the room there stood a twenty-foot high statue.

On his left was the first, a cobra raised up, fangs bared ready to strike. Next, in the far left corner, was a falcon, its wings out stretched and beak open as if it were capturing its prey. The opposite corner held a cat hissing, with eyes narrowed, back arched and a paw out claws extended. To his right a woman, her eyes seemed to be looking right at him. The hair on the back of his moist neck rose in alert. It was as if the statues were guarding the ancient coffins, forcing them to remain where they lay.

Bill felt his pack shiver and he reached around his back and gave the front pocket a gentle pat. “This is strange indeed,” he thought, looking at the walls of the tomb, which were void of any writing. He walked toward the center of the room along the outside edge of the circle and examined the sarcophagi in front of him. Carved on the top was the name of a man, his position, and a quote: “In service to the Queen.”

Chapter 5 - Broken Slumber

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On the floor in the center of the coffins, were three marble urns that formed a triangle. He bent down on one knee to get a better look but was careful not to get too close. Each of the urns had a word carved in the stone. Bill didn’t recognize the writing; he waved his wand in a circle around the urns…nothing happened. He tapped the first urn with his wand…still nothing.

He pulled his pack from his back and took a piece rubbing paper and a charcoal pencil. Then he reached down and picked up an urn, placing the paper over the symbol, he took the pencil and rubbed over it. He did this again to the second urn and third. He looked down at the rubbings, something itched in his brain, and he rolled them up and put them in his pack.

Bill looked down and then placed the urns side by side so the symbols ran together. A glow from within the urns began to highlight the carvings, they seemed to come to life, the lines became unfocused and fused together. The ground shuddered…Bill got to his feet. A scraping sound came from all around him; he looked and saw the tops of the sarcophagi being pushed away.

The torches on the walls sputtered, and some went out altogether. Bang! A lid hit the stone floor…a mummy rose from inside its coffin. Bang! Bang! Bang! He was surrounded…mummies were rising from their prisons all around him. The corpses stiff arms out stretched, worn bloody bandages cracked, as dry decayed flesh showing through. He looked around…the only way out was the entrance he had just come through but he could never make it past them.

He looked up, some forty feet above him and saw a small hole. Quickly, he ripped off his pack and pulled out a long rope. Taking his wand, he pointed it at the rope and said “Wingaurdium Leviosa!” The rope sprang to life and began to corkscrew its way towards the opening in the ceiling. He tucked the wand in his pocket. A hand fell heavy on his shoulder; he spun around…a mummy stood inches from him.

The hand reached for Bill’s throat; its grip tightening as Bill fought to take a breath. He punched it hard in the head and it stumbled backward. The rope gave a jerk as it reached the top, he grabbed it tightly he put his pack over one shoulder and jumped on to it climbing as fast as he could. A hand grabbed his ankle; he kicked at it knocking it to the ground.

Chapter 6 - Sliver and Gold

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He climbed faster than he thought possible, the exit above his only hope. Then he felt it…weight on the rope. Bill looked down; a mummy was following him up the rope. It was climbing faster than he was, the flesh crumbled with the effort to bend its joints. Bill reached the black hole above and with one hand he grasped the edge of the stone and pulled himself up.

Swish! Something hit the top of his head knocking him back down; he slid several feet before he was able to stop his descent. He felt dizzy…a warm liquid rolled down the side of his face, wiping it away with his hand he saw blood. Pain ripped through his calf…the mummy had reached him. He kicked at it but it dodged his foot. Bill let go of the rope and fell fast on top of the mummy making it lose its grip…it fell to the stone floor with a Thud!

He grabbed the rope tightly and began to climb, reaching the opening once more. The blood from the wound on his head was running down his face and onto his neck. Again he felt weight on the rope, this time several mummies had joined in the chase. He gripped the edge of his exit with both hands and began to hoist himself up…swish! This time he saw it, the flash of silver from a sword swept above the opening.

Bill reached for his wand with one hand, depending on the other to hold his weight…the mummies were only feet away. His head swam whirling around making it hard for him focus, he tapped the rope with his wand and it began to vibrate whipping itself back and forth. The mummies stopped their climb, but still the rope persisted as it lurching this way and that, then it happened…the first mummy fell toppling down on to the others below ripping the stiff limbs from their bodies. They crashed to the ground in a heap knocking down those in their reach.

The arm that supported Bill’s weight was screaming in protest. He gripped the edge with his other hand, and hung there for a moment before pulling himself up. The sword swung across the opening again. His head pounded, blood from the wound dulled his bright red hair. The muscles in his arms shook, “I’m NOT going to die here!” Bill demanded of himself. He caught the glimmer of silver out of the corner of his eye…it sat poised, ready to attack. He twisted his body trying to get a better look but there was only darkness. Having no idea what waited for him, he willed his already angered arm to hold his weight again as he took out his wand, and breathed “Lumos”. The light penetrated the darkness and he saw the sword swaying slightly in midair, as if held by an invisible force.

His fingers began to slip…he couldn’t hold on much longer. ”Waddiwassi!” he said pointing his wand at the sword, it flew from the opening out of sight. He heaved himself up with the remainder of his strength. His body lay exhausted on the cold stone floor, panting for breath, his head swimming madly, Bill rolled on his side and retrieved his rope from below. Suddenly, there was light. A torch lit itself, then another…one by one until the whole room was surrounded by firelight. He had found it!

Chapter 7 - The Unexpected Guest

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Gold! Piles of it…gold statues of Egyptian gods, pitchers encrusted with precious stones, goblets and platters, mirrors framed in solid gold, intricate headdresses, and three large piles of gold coins. Through one of the mirrors Bill glimpsed the reflection of a sword, the one that had almost cost him his life, it lay motionless on the floor. He tried to pull himself up but the effort had been more than he could bear. His head pounded in rebellion as a wave of nausea washed through him. Blackness seeped into his vision; he gave into it and out of consciousness.

He was running up a steep hill when the earth gave way underneath him. He fell…rolling downward his speed accelerated. He flung out his arms trying to stop himself but it did no good. Faster he fell, and then he saw it a giant pit. It was sucking him down; he grabbed at the earth in desperation. He felt the cold suction of the abyss pulling him deep into itself. He screamed…falling…nothing.

Bill woke with a start, his head ached, muscles sore. Where was he? Then the images came flooding back…the room…the mummies…a sword.

“ I was wondering when you’d wake up.” Bill’s eyes searched for the voice. “Over here,” It was a woman. He turned his head again and a figure came into focus, she stood a few feet away from him. She was thin with long black hair and bronze skin. She walked over to him and knelt down. “Here drink this,” she said handing him a goblet.

Bill didn’t take it, instead he asked, “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

She looked down at him and smiled. “If I tell you will you drink?” He sat up, his head had a dull ache, he reached up feeling his wound but there was none. He looked back at the woman. She had set the goblet in front of.

“Drink, don’t drink…it’s up to you, but it will help that headache.” Bill looked at the goblet, reached down and picked it up. It looked like water; he took a small sip, then greedily gulped down the rest of it.

“Better?” she asked.

[potterknowitall]

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“Now, who are you and what are you doing here?” he demanded.

“I am Vivian.” She had thick black satin hair that fell just past her shoulders, her features were elegant, long black lashes framed her large brown eyes. Her simple dress in a white cotton blouse and snug pair of jeans sent a wave of heat through Bill. She had a pack slung around one of her square shoulders that tugged on her blouse revealing more of her deep neckline. “I work for Gringotts,” she said smiling at him, “they sent me here to explore this pyramid.”

Bill looked at her curiously and said, “ Funny, I wasn’t expecting a helper. Are you sure you’ve got the right pyramid?”

Her eyes laughed at him; “They sent both of us.” Bill studied her for a moment his gaze shifting up and down her body. Her long slender neck held a think gold necklace that sat ridged against her soft curves.

“I never seen you before, where are you from?” he asked.

“I work mostly in South American deep in the Amazon jungles. The old witches and wizards there have many unknown temples that attract the goblins.”

Questions swelled in his mind. Didn’t they think he could handle this on his own? Why did they send someone else without telling him? What was going on? An angry pulse rose from within him.

As if reading his thoughts she replied, “I’m not here for the treasure Bill. There is a rumor that this pyramid holds an ancient spell. Queen Nailla had many secrets and I was sent to collect one of them.”

“What kind of spell?” he questioned her. Never had he known goblins to be interested in anything other than treasure.

“A profitable one.” She said as if to end the questions.

But he wasn’t giving in that easy. “Is that all your going to say? A profitable one?”

Vivian walked a few steps stretching her arms over her head and sighed. “I don’t know what it is because I haven’t found it yet. I’ve been here for two days and I haven’t found any trace of it.”

Chapter 8 - Battle of Wills

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Bill looked down at the hole in the floor he had managed to pull himself through. There was no trace of it. He got up walking over to where it had been, bent down, and placed his hand over the solid floor.

“Where did it go?” he asked.

“Where did what go?” Vivian said looking confused.

“The hole I just came up through…and the sword, they’re gone.”

“I don’t know what your talking about…I was in the Queen’s chamber and heard some commotion. When I got here I found you half dead on the floor. There are secret passages all over, I thought you must have come through one of them. I didn’t see any sword.”

“You’ve found the Queen’s chamber?” he asked excitedly. Forgetting his questions for the moment.

“Yes,” she smiled, “it’s through this passage. Come on…I’ll show you.” They walked through the narrow hallway into a large chamber; the magical torches on the walls lit themselves making the light dance across the floor. The room held only one sarcophagus…that of Queen Nailla. “Don’t go anywhere near that,” she said looking toward the coffin. There was a stench of rotting flesh that sat on the stagnate air. “I think your friends were lost in there or at least one of them was,” she said as she turned her head away.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Vivian pulled the pack she was carrying off her back and pulled out a jar with several mice in it. Taking one out by the tail she tossed it on top of the sarcophagus. In a second it disappeared within the tomb. “I found a warning about it here on this wall.” She pointed across the room. “Typical, men…they never read directions.” Vivian laughed but Bill did not. “Sorry,” she said, “that was out of line.”

Bill walked over to the wall with saying a word. The wall was covered from floor to ceiling with hieroglyphics. There were several warnings about the evils that would befall those who entered this place; most of it though was a lineage; fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, and children. He studies the wall for over half an hour, when he reached the center of the wall, he saw a most peculiar drawing. Three figures stood in a triangle one standing over the other two, drawn beneath the feet of the figures were three symbols.

“I’ve seen this,” he said pulling off his pack and retrieving the paper from within it. Vivian came to his side.

“Where did you get this?” she asked.

“The chamber I just escaped from. There were three urns with these symbols on them. I lined them up trying to figure them out and the mummies came to life.”

“We’ve got to get back there.”

“Why would you want to go back there? You’d only be flirting with death. There are too many of them to escape.”

“I believe…I may have found the spell. There must be a way back in,” she said desperately.

Vivian took the paper from Bill’s hands and walking back toward the treasure room, he followed close behind her. “What are you going to do?” he asked.

“I’m going to get in that room.”

“Are you crazy…haven’t you been listening to me?” he asked, his face showing his disbelief.

“I’m getting what I came for,” she said defiantly.

Chapter 9 - Wealth’s Relative

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They reached the vault, Vivian knelt down where the entrance should’ve been and began to examine it with her wand. Bill reached from his bag pulling out a large black silky bag with a thin gold rope used to draw it closed, and a small shovel. He laid it open, bent over a pile of gold coins, and began shoveling them into his sack.

“What are you doing?” The irritation dripped from her tongue.

“I’m getting what I came for,” he said without looking up, “If you want to kill yourself go ahead, I won’t stop you.”

“Those urns are worth more than that pile of treasure.” Her emotions were running high.

“Yeah? Well, this isn’t surrounded by mummies,” he retorted pointing at the pile of treasure with his shovel. She was getting under his skin and he loved it. Bill didn’t know who Vivian was really, but he was willing to play the game.“ Please Bill, I need your help,” she pleaded with him; her delicate hands brought together as if to pray, a tear fell down her flushed cheek.

He stopped what he was doing and looked up at her. He knew he would help her. How could he resist her?
“Alright,” he said resignedly, “but first the treasure.” She smiled thankfully at him and they spent the next couple hours loading the gold coin goblets, platters, pitchers, mirrors, statues, and personal items such as brushes and combs, hair accessories, headdresses, and jewelry into the black bag.

Bill let Gunther out, to tunnel through a pile of gold coins; he rooted happily easily making his way through the mound. When they were done filling the bottomless sack and the room stood empty, Bill pulled the drawstring bag closed. He took out a small vile and let three drops of a solution fall onto the sack. It began to shrink…smaller and smaller until the large sack of treasure was nothing more than the size of a bag of marbles, which Bill then stuffed in his pocket. He collected Gunther from the far corner and placed him in his pack.

He and Vivian walked over to the spot she had been so anxious to see. They stood there a few minutes looking at the floor. He glanced at the papers, then down at the floor again. “I have a idea,” he said and he pulled out the charcoal pencil from his pack. Kneeling down he drew the symbols on the stone, then stood back, watching the floor melt slowly away as their entrance appeared.

“Excellent!’ Vivian exclaimed looking at the room below. She took out a rope from her pack, tapped it with her wand, and watched as it floated to the bottom, magically anchoring itself. Vivian gingerly climbed down and Bill followed, but before his feet hit the ground Vivian had picked up an urn, and was looking at it in sheer delight.

“Careful,” he warned her, “don’t let them touch or we’ll both be sorry.” But, she didn’t set it next to the others; instead she set it on top of one of the sarcophagi and started examining it. Suddenly, she picked it up and threw it to the ground. “Smash!” it broke into several pieces. Bill was in such shock he didn’t notice her reaching down to pick up something from within the urn.

“What are you doing?” he asked. Then he saw it, it was a piece of worn tattered cloth. “What is that?” he asked watching Vivian place the cloth back on top of the coffin. She didn’t reply as Bill walked over to look at it. He understood the words even though they didn’t make sense to him. “Smash!” the loud crack of the stone bounced off the room echoing its cry into the darkest corners. Vivian had destroyed a second urn and had retrieving the tattered clue from within. Bill stood where he was as he watched her smash the third and final urn.

Chapter 9 - The Spell

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She laid the three pieces together, a second passed and the worn threads became alive weaving themselves back together. The writing darkened to the freshness of its youth. “Yes,” she said excitedly, “I have found it.”

Bill read the spell; his concern grew with every word. ”Bone of the father…Flesh of the servant…Blood of the enemy…what kind of spell is this?” he demanded.

“Like I said…a profitable one,” she said turning away from him. “My client will be pleased.”

“Who is your client, Vivian? You said you worked for…” then he heard it, the familiar scraping. He looked around wildly. “We have to get out of here.” She grabbed the spell quickly stuffing it down her shirt.

They sprinted across the room Bill leading the way towards the doorway he had first come through. Bang! He knew what that sound meant, the mummies were coming. Vivian leapt ahead of him climbing a few steps up the steep incline, lost her footing, and fell back onto Bill. He took out his wand and touched it to his feet then to Vivian’s. They climbed fast as fast as they could with Bill leading the way.

[potterknowitall]

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“Ahhh!” she screamed, Bill turned in time to see Vivian fall backwards grabbing at the walls for support, sliding several feet down.

“No!” he yelled, but it was too late, the walls shuddered as dust fell from the cracks. Ten feet behind Vivian the horde of mummies were steadily climbing up after them. He made his way to her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her with him though the clouded passage. The walls were crashing down on them as large chunks of stone fell barely missing their heads. The inclined suddenly leveled out beneath their feet and the hall before them was clear. They ran half way down it before stopping to catch their breath.

Bill looked hard at her as he panted for breath, “I know…you don’t work for Gringotts…so who sent you?”

“No one sent me, I work for myself,” she said eyeing him as her full chest rose and fell quickly.

“That spell…what does it do?” he asked, his sides still heaving.

“I don’t know myself, I just know that someone wants it and is willing to pay a lot of money for it.”

“Yeah, your client, right?”
“Yes,” she said walking away from him. “Now, let’s get out of here”. Bill followed her to the room that now held their exit. “Which stone is it?” she asked.

“The bottom one third from the center.” He replied. He knew he couldn’t let her walk out of there with the spell, but how was he going to stop her?

Vivian tapped the stone with her wand and it slid back. She was putting her wand back in her pack when Bill finally spoke. “I can’t let you leave with that you know.”

She paused, her hand still in her pack. “Do you think you can stop me?” she asked playfully.

“Give me that spell Vivian,” he demanded. “ I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her eyes lifted to meet his, “I’m not giving it up…you’ll have to kill me first.”

Bill moved toward her but Vivian drew out a sword. “Don’t move,” she spat, the point of the sword resting on his chest. “I nearly killed you once…I’ll do this time.”

“Why didn’t you kill me when you had the chance?” he asked not daring to move.

“I needed you,” her icy words sent chills down Bill’s spine. “The doorway closed up as soon as you came through it. I thought you would know how to reopen it. So I healed your head and waited. I was right – you did help me didn’t you?” Vivian glared at him. “You’ve been very helpful to me Bill.”

“How can I help you now?” he asked in a menacing tone.

“Die!” she yelled swinging the sword at his head.

He flung himself backward to avoid the blade and lost his balance falling onto a clay pot shattering it. Vivian walked toward him. Quickly, he reached in his pack and felt for his wand.

“No, you don’t,” she said swinging the sword at him again. It hit the target sinking inches into Bill’s shoulder.

“Ha!” he screamed in pain. She was going to kill him. The red stain on his white shirt was growing as his fingers wrapped around his wand and he pulled it out yelling “Expelliarmus!”

Chapter 10 - The Last Challenge

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She was gone. Bill looked around madly. “Where are you?” he screamed. He heard something…a rubbing sound as if someone were crawling. He looked at the opening and rushed over to it, but saw nothing. He reached his hand through and felt a foot; she was there…under an invisibility cloak. He grabbed her ankle hard and pulled, Vivian screamed in protest kicking at him. Her foot caught his bloody arm sending him reeling back in pain. He recovered quickly and raced after her through the exit.

He saw nothing...she had escaped. The sun was setting on the horizon, he heard the stone lift itself once more to seal the opening, then looked at the ground in time to see the last of her footprints disappear in the evening wind. Tearing off a piece of his shirt, he tied it around his throbbing arm in an effort to stop the bleeding. He walked around to the front of the pyramid, through the statues of the Sphinx, and started to make his way home.

Bill didn’t remember how he got back to the tent. He had to stop several times to rest, and the moon was high in the sky by the time he entered his encampment. He managed to rub a paste white on his should which healed it instantly leaving his arm with only a dull ache. Taking Gunther out of his pack, he placed him on the couch in which he quickly disappeared into its crevasses. He made his way to the bed, kicked off his boots, and collapsed on it not bothering to undress.

His eyelids were heavy and he knew sleep would come quickly. He thought of Vivian. She was gone, and he knew he would never see her again. She was going to make someone very happy. He didn’t know what the spell did but he knew it wasn’t good. He would report the events to his supervisor in the morning, but Bill doubted there would be much of a response after they saw his bounty. Before his unconscience mind took over to dream, his thoughts turned to his friend Eric. He had missed out on a great adventure, and when Eric asked him he would say, “Yes, it was worth it.”