Bonds of Servitude Ch. 16 (Patreon)

It was an ordinary, busy day at the Ministry of Magic.

The atrium was full of witches and wizards coming and going every which way, rushing to make it to an office to dispute a fine or make it in time to their appointed court date, as well as just regular ministry employees going about their day under the monotonous haze of bureaucracy.

Cornelius Fudge was passing through, accompanied by his new undersecretary, a young lad fresh off of Hogwarts who's name he had not bothered to learn. Fudge's mustache bristled with each twitch of the rotund man's lip, as he silently steamed while trying to project a serene calmness to the outside world.

He was surrounded by constituents, of course. Voters. He could never show them any sign of frailty. In public, he had to remain forever firm, never wavering. As Minister For Magic, you were always under scrutiny, especially when you thought no one was watching.

It was getting harder to project an image. This past year had brought with it more and more challenges to his previously rock solid regime. Dolores’ death had almost instantly been dwarfed by Lucius’ passing.

Lucius had been his staunchest backer. He'd been his benefactor, the man who had taken a middling employee from the Department of International Magical Cooperation and turned him into Minister For Magic. Cornelius had owed his success to Lucius and his block, and had been more than happy to appease the man, within reason. In return, Lucius protected Cornelius’ position from the Crouches and Bones of the world.

With him dead, the seal had been broken. He thought he could salvage the situation, simply reform Lucius’ alliance around a new figure, but it had all shattered that day in the Wizengamot where Lady Malfoy had gone rogue and Bones had happily rallied under her banner.

Since then, Cornelius had been desperately trying to shore up his power base any way he could. Gladhand here, forge new alliances there. He'd even considered hitching his wagon back up with Dumbledore, since the stain of his failure all those years ago had faded slightly, but it was all wailing against an oncoming storm. He knew his power was slipping, and he was running out of footholds.

All of those thoughts hung like a dark cloud over Cornelius’ head as he walked past the Fountain of Magical Brethren. His walk only worsened when he managed to glimpse the intimidating figure of Director Bones coming the opposite way, flanked by a few senior aurors.

He felt a bit uncomfortable around the collar. He would have to swap niceties with her, make some sort of joke that she would not even pretend to laugh at in her usual condescending manner, and then he'd have to go about his day.

At Least before, he'd had Dolores to make disparaging comments after the fact, which would uplift his spirit. His new undersecretary was nowhere near indoctrinated enough to understand just when the Minister of Magic needed to have his ego stroked.

Just as he forced a fake smile onto his face, a gust of wind picked up in the middle of the atrium.

Cornelius raised his hand up but was too late to save his bowler hat from flying off his head. “Damn it!” The Minister’s whiskers ruffled in the stiff wind as he made to turn his head and try to summon his hat, before what happened in front of him stopped him in his tracks.

A vortex of white light suddenly materialized in the atrium. It didn’t resemble a portkey, nor any form of magical travel Cornelius had ever seen, and the minister instantly began to fear for his life, worried that they were witnessing some very strange, very dangerous magic.

The swirling vortex brightened until it was almost blinding, with the wind forcing him and his undersecretary to slide backward, along with most everyone else in the atrium.

It was only that damned Bones who stood her ground, linking arms with her aurors as they aimed their wands at the vortex.

Just as suddenly as it had picked up, the wind stopped, the vortex dissipated, and as the light faded, a figure began to emerge.

A figure that was very easy to discern, even if she did look very different from when Cornelius had seen her last. Even if he had personally seen her corpse just a few months ago.

“BELLATRIX BLACK!”

Bones sprang into action, binding the wild-haired woman in conjured ropes. Bellatrix fell to the floor, her eyes darting around frantically as Bones and her aurors surrounded her.

Regaining his bearings, Cornelius power walked over to the scene, not wanting to be seen standing by while Bones dealt with the situation by herself.

When he reached them, he saw the bound woman at the center of it all, who looked shockingly calm, considering the situation. When Cornelius bumped a junior auror out of the way and slipped into view, Bellatrix's violet eyes lit up along with a hopeful smile.

“Lord Fudge! Thank Merlin you're here!”

Cornelius sputtered. “L-Lord Fudge?”

“Please, you're our only hope, sir! I don't know what's going on, but the resistance needs you!”

Amelia was looking suspiciously between Bellatrix and Fudge. “Do you have any idea as to what's going on here, Cornelius?”

“Not the foggiest, Amelia.” Cornelius explained, begging off any association with the witch.

“I suggest we bring her in somewhere for questioning. Preferably somewhere a tad more private.” Amelia replied gruffly, glancing around at the large crowd that had gathered around them.

They quickly levitated the bound woman up into Amelia's office. She was lowered onto a chair while Amelia rifled through one of her cabinets before producing a small vial filled with a clear liquid.

“Veritaserum.” Fudge acknowledged.

Amelia didn't respond. She uncorked the bottle and pulled out the dropper.

Black, witnessing all this, willingly opened her mouth and held her tongue out as the head of the DMLE filled the dropper.

“Three drops should be enough.” Amelia said as she handed the dropper to one of her aurors, who nodded and quickly went to administer the drops to the witch.

Fudge, his undersecretary and the aurors were all hyper focused on watching Auror Jones place three drops of clear liquid on the tip of Bellatrix's tongue. None of them paid any attention to Amelia, who had her hand inside her coat pocket and was surreptitiously waving her wand about inside.

Bellatrix's eyes glazed over right after the second drop, though Jones still applied the third for good measure.

Cornelius cleared his throat, “Amelia, if I may?” He needed to assert his authority in any way he could, he couldn't let Bones just control this entire interrogation.

Amelia raised an eyebrow before she bowed her head lightly, “Proceed, Minister.”

Fudge's lip twitched ever so slightly upward in triumph before he turned back to look at Bellatrix.

“Name.”

“Bellatrix Black.”

“Age?”

“Thirty-four.”

There was a pause. Amelia and her aurors looked at the minister expectantly, who wasn't exactly sure what he should ask next. What do you ask of a woman who was supposed to be dead?

“Did you attempt to murder Lucius Malfoy?”

“No.”

Cornelius reared his head back, stunned as he glanced around at the others, who looked equally surprised.

“Director Bones, are you sure this veritaserum hasn't gone bad?”

Amelia held the bottle up to him. “You can test it if you want, Minister.”

Cornelius shook his head as he refocused on Bellatrix.

“Where did you go after you broke out of Azkaban?”

Bellatrix blinked up at him a few times, looking confused by his question.

“Were you imprisoned in Azkaban?” Amelia asked suddenly from behind her.

“No.”

“What the bloody hell is going on here?” Cornelius roared. Maybe he should inspect that bottle that Amelia had used.

Amelia pressed on. “You said that ‘Lord Fudge’ was your only hope. What do you mean by that?”

“Lord Fudge is the only wizard powerful enough to stop the Dark Lord Dumbledore.”

Everyone gasped, and Amelia tried to hide her smirk as she saw Fudge's eyes. They were full of shock and confusion, but there was unmistakable glee mixed in there as well.

They had him hook, line and sinker.

Over the next twenty minutes, Bellatrix launched into an unbelievable tale about how she was part of a resistance group fighting against the terrifying Dark Lord Dumbledore, and that she had been on her way to ask for Lord Fudge's help, as he was the most powerful mage in all of Britain. Fudge had quickly surmised that she must have come from an alternate world, and while Amelia had kept mum about the idea, her aurors and the undersecretary had been quick to throw their voices in to confirm the Minister's theory.

“This is quite a happening, isn't it. The press is not going to know what to do with this one!” Fudge said as they all huddled together on one side of the room, out of earshot of the still bound Bellatrix.

“So you actually believe that she's from another world, Minister?” Amelia asked with an arched eyebrow.

Everyone else glanced at her as if this was the only possible conclusion.

“What other explanation is there, Amelia?”

“Well, she could have had her memory meddled with, for one-”

“Amelia, I saw Bellatrix Black's corpse with my own two eyes! Besides, there is no way that that deranged, feral creature from Azkaban could have morphed into this healthy, sane woman in just a few months. As far-fetched as it may seem, this is the only explanation that makes sense.”

Amelia glanced between Fudge, her aurors and the undersecretary, all of whom were firmly in the minister's corner.

Amelia sighed, trying her best to seem defeated while inside she wanted to dance for joy.

“I see. How are we going to break this to the public?”

…

Bellatrix walked down the steps of Gringotts bank, casually ignoring the flash of the cameras as the press was jostling for a chance to catch a glimpse of Bellatrix Black, the woman from another world.

“Miss Black, what are your plans now that the goblins have confirmed your identity?” Rita asked from among the crowd of reporters.

Arcturus and Andromeda, who had ‘met’ the new Bellatrix and been with her during the inheritance test at Gringotts, shielded the newly famous woman from the press.

“We'll not be answering any questions at this time,” Arcturus spat gruffly.

The press continued to ask, and the trio continued to ignore them as they finally reached a point with enough room for the three of them to apparate away.

…

“So, how does it feel to be a free woman again?” Rita asked as she sipped her drink.

Bellatrix shrugged from her place, where she had a drink in one hand and was squeezing the life out of Harry on her lap with the other.

“It feels good, I guess. Would feel better if Fudge wasn't bombarding me with invitations to campaign events.”

Rita giggled. “Can you blame the man? You're his lifeline. I think he cried tears of joy when he read the article I wrote.”

Rita's headline article on the Prophet had had plenty about the ‘good Bellatrix Black’ from an alternate universe, but an inordinate amount of ink was also spilled on the fact that the alternate Fudge was a powerful, heroic mage.

“Cornelius’ numbers have already seen a bump.” Amelia said as she walked into the parlor. “He'll start getting bold again now, but it's the sacrifice we had to make for your freedom. You can beg off for now due to you ‘recuperative trip’, but once you're back, I suggest you attend some of those events. At least for a few months.”

Bellatrix pouted deeply, glaring at Amelia as if the woman hadn't just won her her freedom. “I'll figure something out.”

Amelia rolled her eyes as she pulled a few forms from her coat pocket, tossing them onto the table between the two women as Andromeda, Arcturus and Nymphadora walked into the room.

“Everyone who's traveling needs to sign these with a blood quill, have them on the desk of Gertrude Ragnol by end of business tomorrow.”

Nymphadora pouted as she watched Bellatrix hand Andromeda her own form, with only another one that was meant for Darcia remaining.

“I better get my own adventure-cation this winter. Next summer at the latest.”

…

“Its not fair!”

For what might have been the millionth time, Susan yelled through her door as she petulantly tossed a pillow from her bed.

“You're on punishment, Susan. Of course I'm not going to let you go on a tropical vacation!”

Amelia heard only a frustrated growl from the other side before Susan began to loudly stomp around her room.

Honestly, what did the girl expect when Amelia found out she'd pledged her entire lineage to be a vassal of the Malfoys?

Deep down, Amelia understood why Susan had done it, and strong as she was, she knew she likely would have folded under the same circumstances, especially at such a young, impressionable age.

Amelia was essentially tying herself with the Blacks already, but still, Susan had done a brash thing, and she needed to be disciplined for it.

…

Nymphadora was hugging the life out of Harry, who was very mindful of the child that looked as if it was going to slide out of her bulging belly at any moment.

“I wish you could come with us, Nym. I… I really don't want to miss the birth of our child.”

Tonks smooched the crown of Harry's head with a fond smile on her face. “That just means you owe me another one, Potter. Now go out there and save auntie!”

“You two, keep an eye out for that one.” Arcturus told Andromeda and Bellatrix, shooting a watchful glance over to Darcia, who was quietly adjusting Hermione's satchel while they waited for the portkey.

Andi nodded. “Don't worry grandfather, I've got it.”

Darcia had been supremely quiet over the past week, and it was not lost on anyone that the girl had been deeply affected by everything that had happened. There were dark circles under her eyes, and sometimes, when she thought no one was looking, they'd seen her hands trembling.

“We'll have plenty to keep us busy on this side.” Amelia said as she looked over towards Arcturus.

Arcturus grunted. “We'll take care of the issue on our end, just focus on bringing my granddaughter back.”

They'd placed Narcissa in a bottomless trunk, not exactly keen on anyone seeing her out here in the International Portkey platforms. They'd also stowed Tom away in the same trunk.

“Believe me, we won't stop until my annoying younger sister is out of that prism.” Bellatrix insisted.

Amelia pulled out a length of rope from her robe. “This is your portkey, it's set to activate in a minute, so I suggest you all get situated.”

Everyone scrambled over. One end was tied around the handle of the bottomless trunks while Andi, Bella, Darcia, Harry and Hermione made sure to grasp it firmly.

“Go out there and kick ass, Harry. Whatever it is you're doing!” Nymphadora said as she looked at her baby's father lovingly.

Harry grinned, giving her a thumbs up.

The time came, and in a flash of light, they were all swept away by the international portkey.

Amelia sighed. “Well, Lord Black, I believe we should get right to it. We should meet with Dumbledore to figure out exactly how we're going to get into the LeStrange vault.”

Arcturus made a face at the Headmaster's mention, but a low grumble was his only form of protest.

“I want in!” Nymphadora chirped in cheerfully. “I should floo Penny, and we should call Rita.”

Amelia sniffed at this. “Why would two Hogwarts students and a reporter sit in on a meeting like that?”

Nynphadora shot the head of the DMLE a withering look. “First of all, Hogwarts graduate. Five NEWTs by the way. Second of all, me and Penny ran a secret criminal empire for years and managed to steal the Philosopher's Stone right under Dumbledore's nose. Rita single-handedly broke Bellatrix out of prison.” Nym smirked at the look on the redhead's face. “So I'd say we've earned our seat at the table.”

…

Even for those well practiced in all forms of magical transportation, international portkeys were a struggle.

And so, when the party materialized in the grassy hill, the children stumbled, falling to their knees while Bellatrix and Andromeda both doubled over, their heads spinning wildly as they tried their best to keep the contents of their stomachs from bursting forth onto the soft grass.

“They still haven't perfected it, I'm afraid. Astoria was so dizzy she passed out when we got here.”

“Muuum!”

Harry glanced up, and what he saw was a vision of beauty.

The backdrop was that of a magnificent yet also warm and homely looking villa, which overlooked a pristine strip of white sandy beach from atop a gently sloping mountain that was full of lush, green vegetation. Prominently in the foreground, the three Greengrass women looked stunning. They were all wearing sundresses, Astoria and Anastasia's were white while Daphne's was a light blue, and all three of them had big, straw hats to shield them from the gleaming sun.

Astoria and Anastasia looked gorgeous, with the older, taller woman looking like she came out of a catalog as the thin fabric of her dress ruffled in the breeze, hugging her lithe curves as her long, golden brown hair swayed behind her.

But Harry's eyes were completely locked on Daphne. Her blonde hair looked golden under the sunlight, and the way she smiled at him twisted his stomach into knots.

Daphne flushed deeply as she looked at Harry from under a curtain of hair. “Hi, Harry.”

It was like they were meeting each other for the first time. Harry could only stare at her as Daphne walked over to him, wrapped her arms around him and gave him a deep, warm kiss in greeting.

“Hi, Daphne.” He replied quietly as the girl pulled back, beaming brightly at him before she grabbed onto his hand. “Come on, let me show you the villa! Susan's grounded, and Pansy and Tracey are with Tracey's family for the summer, so its only us here.” Daphne said, not sounding a single bit disappointed that the others couldn't make it. She loved all her friends, but she would take full advantage of having more of Harry for herself.

Well, her mum and sister were there too, and the Blacks as well, but still.

Harry greeted Astoria and Anastasia, who replied with mirthful smiles as Daphne continued to drag him inside.

Bellatrix undid the latch of the bottomless trunk cupping her hands over her mouth as she shouted. “Bring her up!”

“Yes, Mistress!”

In a zip, Narcissa was quickly levitated up and out of the trunk. Anastasia gasped as she saw her friend encased in a glass prison.

“Oh my, Amelia told me, but still…” She had her palm cupped over her mouth as she looked at the blonde woman.

“That's what we're here to fix.” Bellatrix said with a grunt as she helped Tom out of the trunk.

“Oh, the Christmas gnome came?” Astoria asked giddily as she looked at Tom.

“He sure did.” Was Bellatrix's reply. “Now let's get inside.”

Everyone made their way into the villa. Darcia shuffled her feet. She'd been quiet, which was typical for her at this point. She suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder, and glanced up to see her aunt Andi looking down at her with concern.

Darcia looked over to Hermione, who was squeezing her hand, “it's ok, ‘Mione, you can go ahead.”

“Are you sure, Darcy?”

Darcia nodded firmly, and her lover gave her hand one last squeeze before letting go and moving along.

“Darcia, you know you can talk to us, you don't have to keep it all bottled up inside.”

Darcia paled slightly, her mouth quivering upward in a failed attempt at a reassuring smile. “What do you mean, Auntie? I'm fine.”

“We both know that's a lie, Darcia. I'm not going to push you, but its alright to be afraid, it's alright to feel terrified. You went through a lot, especially for a twelve year old child-”

“Harry went through a lot too. He was right there, and he's fine.” Darcia felt a lump in her throat. “Meanwhile, I k-k-keep having nightmares, and I feel guilty, because when things went bad, I couldn't do shit!”

She was gritting her teeth, fighting back tears as Andi suddenly wrapped her arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Darcia, your mother, Bellatrix and I were raised in the exact same family, and we were only a few years apart. Our parents were cruel, cold people that pushed pureblood ideology onto us from the day we were born. Bellatrix and I rebelled, in completely different ways, while your mother didn't. Perhaps its because mother and father were harder on her after failing with Bella and I, but that doesn't matter. What matters is, people react differently to things, and it doesn't make them any better or worse than each other.”

Darcia nodded weakly. “I understand, auntie.”

Andromeda sighed, knowing they were nowhere near being done with this. “Darcia, try to relax, alright? Enjoy what time we have before we have to begin our mission, alright? And know that you can lean on any of us, and we'll be there for you.”

Darcia thanked her and the two made their way into the villa.

…

Everyone quickly settled in. There was a nice, magically created draft that swept through the house and left it feeling fresh. Everyone left their shoes at the door, walking around barefoot and stripping down to their loosest, thinnest articles of clothing as they took the time to relax.

“So, when exactly do you start on your quest?” Anastasia asked Bellatrix and Andromeda from the opposite couch.

“All we know is that the quest will find us, so I guess until then, we're just supposed to wait around.” Andromeda said.

Daphne had insisted she would prepare dinner, and Harry had offered to help her. The two of them were dancing around the kitchen, working together in perfect sync.

Daphne stood over a pot of soup, stirring gently as Harry brushed up behind her, his crotch rubbing up against her pert bum as he sprinkled seasoning over the soup. Daphne smiled gently as she stirred the seasonings in before ladeling a small scoop of soup.

“Blow on it, its hot.” She warned as she held the ladle up to him. Harry pressed closer to her, and she basked in the feel of him as he blew on the spoon for a few moments before taking a sip.

“Its perfect.” Harry grinned.

“That's not fair, Daph. I want my turn to cook with Harry!” Astoria whined. She was sitting on the kitchen counter, watching the whole scene with jealousy etched onto her face.

Daphne rolled her eyes. “Story, stop being such a brat.”

“You can help me with breakfast, Astoria.” Harry offered, and the girl instantly perked up. “Could you set the table for us?”

“Sure thing.” Astoria nodded enthusiastically as she hopped off the counter and ran to the dining room.

Daphne beamed up at Harry, grabbing onto his collar as she gave him a soft kiss on the lips. Right now, for this moment, she could pretend that it was just the two of them, grown up, sharing a life together.

She knew reality would be much more complicated, but she would stop at nothing to be by his side.

“You two make quite the couple.”

Anastasia was leaning against the doorframe, gazing both sultrily and proudly at the two of them as both Harry and Daphne blushed. Neither of them bothered to deny her words.

The silky haired older witch sauntered over to them, and Harry noticed how at some point during the day, the sundress she'd been wearing had morphed into a very loose fitting robe.

“You like this?” Anastasia asked him as she glanced down at her attire, where one of her milky, supple breasts had slipped out, showing off just how hard her rosy nipples had become. “It's the latest thing from Milan. A robe that changes with you throughout the day. This is the summer edition, so it shifts from a sundress to a lacey nightgown. Its breathes very well.”

Harry was mesmerized as he saw her legs swaying from side to side, the robe cracking aside and giving him a very enticing view up her shapely legs.

“Mum.” It was Daphne's turn to whine now as Anastasia stopped in front of Harry and dropped to her knees.

“Don't mind me, dear. You two can keep on being cute together, I just want to show my son in law what he can expect in the future.”

Daphne frowned slightly as her mother behaved like a cheap slut and hungrily tugged down on Harry's shorts, licking her lips as the boys massive cock flopped out.

“Oh my!” Anastasia gasped, her mouth forming an O as she was faced with the monstrosity that was slowly flagging upward in front of her.

“Cat got your tongue, mother?”

Anastasia was flabbergasted. “I-I didn't think it would be this big.”

Daphne hugged herself against Harry, kissing the boy's cheek. “He's my man, mum, and he's the best.”

Harry rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment as Anastasia tentative reached out, grasping his burning rod with her dainty hand.

Almost as if it had a mind of its own, her hand began to stroke his shaft, her head leaning forward as she tried to get a closer look at the magnificent cock in front of her.

Harry looked down as the gorgeous woman's lips inched ever so closer to his head, which was leaking precum that Anastasia's hand was helpfully spreading down the length of his shaft.

Daphne tilted his head to the side and Harry gazed into her beautiful blue eyes. She leaned forward, and just as the older witch's lips wrapped around his crown, her daughter's tender lips pressed against his own.

It was such a contrast of sensation. On one end, Daphne's kiss was warm and loving. There was no tongue, no passion or hornyness, only pure, unadulterated love.

Meanwhile, her mother greedily took in three inches of his cock, jumping straight into a rapid bobbing as she found herself overwhelmed by the taste of his pure, unadulterated secretion.

Daphne pulled back from the kiss and smiled up at him. “Can you help me chop up some vegetables?”

Harry smiled. “Of course.”

He waddled over to where there was some cabbage and broccoli. He inadvertently shoved his cock deeper down Anastasia's throat, and the woman didn't hesitate to stumble backward, backing herself up against the cabinet.

Harry went to work on the broccoli while his love's mother went to work on his cock, slobbing all over his knob as she gurgled and glucked her way through a sloppy blowjob.

Daphne pretended as if her mother wasn't there as she stole kisses on his shoulder and bumped her hips against his own. She grabbed his bum, and the force she used made his cock disappear fully down her mother's throat.

“I'm done.” She said, having finished shredding up the cabbage and quickly dumping it into the simmering soup.

Harry was a bit slower going, considering he kept glancing down and peering down at bright blue eyes that were identical to Daphne's as the brunette stared right back up at him, her lips wrapped around the base of his cock as she worked to pleasure his head with her throat.

“Let me help you.” Daphne brushed up against him, and her sweet scent made Harry shudder.

Daphne took the knife from him and finished chopping up the broccoli florets, adding them to the soup before stirring everything up nicely.

Meanwhile, her mother's throat-pussy was making very obscene, very loud sounds as the woman picked up her pace, impaling herself on Harry's cock before pulling back, each time adding a new layer of slobber to the boy's throbbing rod.

“I-I'm gonna cum!” Harry warned. This drove Anastasia even wilder, and the woman's pace turned frantic until finally, Harry grunted, grabbing her by the back of the head and pushing her all the way down onto his cock.

Harry's meat pulsed, filling her throat as he shot multiple ropes of scalding hot, sticky semen directly down her gullet.

Anastasia gripped Harry's thighs, her eyes rolled back as her stomach was filled to the brim with mana from heaven, with the most filling, most delicious substance she had ever tasted.

Anastasia felt as if her stomach was bulging from the sheer volume of seed she was receiving. She began to worry that she might be running out of room, a terrifying thought, when someone tugged her head back and away.

“Mum! You can't hog it all!”

Astoria had returned, and the young girl had quickly pulled her mother off and replaced her, wrapping her lips around Harry's cockhead as she greedily swallowed the final few spurts down her barely eleven-year-old throat.

“I'm sorry, Harry. Mum and Story can be a bit much.” Daphne apologized.

Harry smiled dumbly at her as Astoria began to clean his sensitive cockhead. He really didn't mind them at all.

“That soup sure is taking a while!” Bellatrix's voice startled Anastasia, though it made Harry and Daphne laugh as they gathered themselves to finish up the soup, with Harry able to work even as Anastasia joined her daughter in cleaning up his cock.

…

They were all fast asleep. The soft, ocean breeze was more than enough to keep them cool as they dozed off.

Tom was curled up into a ball, snoring softly as he slept inside of the closet. In the room, things had ended up like they always tended to when Harry was around. Bellatrix and Daphne were tightly wrapped around either side of Harry, with the others having had to nudge their way into any sort of contact with the wonderful boy. It led to them all sleeping in a haphazard pile of bodies. A warm. Comforting pile.

Darcia's eyes snapped open.

She immediately knew something was off, because she felt wide wake. She hadn't been sleeping well, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd woken up and not been in a drowsy haze.

She was cuddled up with Hermione. She hadn't partaken in any of the sexual escapades of the previous night. Everyone else, Hermione included, had gone to bed with a fresh load in their pussy. Darcia hadn't. Her body craved it, but she just felt so empty inside…

There was a sudden chill, a chill that struck her so thoroughly that it rattled her bones. Darcia shot up from the bed, and she silently cursed herself for likely waking Hermione up with her brusque movements.

But Hermione didn't stir. A few feet away, Astoria rolled over onto her other side, but no one else moved a muscle.

There was a dim white light coming in from the bedroom door. It must have been moonlight, but it looked just the slightest bit off.

Darcia got up. She walked over to the nightstand, picking out her wand from where they were all piled up together.

She grabbed a robe that was bunched up on the floor. It was much too big for her, and she was practically swimming in the black lace material, but she just wrapped it as tightly as she could around herself.

She stepped out of the room, following the light down the hallway and around the corner until she came up unto the living room, where the sliding glass door to the patio was wide open, and the light was shining brighter than ever.

The hairs on the back of Darcia's neck stood on end. Her steps felt heavier and heavier, but she found that she couldn't stop herself from approaching the open window to the eerie pool of light.

She stepped out onto the patio, her toes reflexively curling inward, digging and twisting into the wet blades of grass that soaked the soles of her feet.

“W-Who are you?”

A few feet away from her, standing directly in front or the bright beam of moonlight that was shining down upon the yard, there was a woman.

She was deathly pale, her skin looking almost translucent. She was wearing a gown similar to the one Daphne's mother had worn, though hers was a bright silvery color. She had long, midnight black hair that reached down to her thighs, and most of her face was obscured by the comically large straw hat she wore, with only a pair of ruby red lips being visible.

“Darcia Malfoy.”

Darcia shivered. The voice reverberated throughout her entire being. It had a strange, almost shrill quality to it that made the young girl realize for the first time she wasn't dealing with something human.

She needed to turn around and run inside, to wake the others up. She was just about to do that, when the apparition spoke.

“Darcia Malfoy. Your eyes have gazed upon the map. You seek the Fount of Creation, do you not?”

The girl's eyes widened, “T-The Lazarus Pit?”

The faintest inkling of a smirk could be made out on those lips, and Darcia caught a glimpse of razor sharp teeth. A Shark's teeth.

“Do you accept the first trial, Darcia Malfoy?”

“Me? Wait, no! I-I'll go wake up the others. Aunt Bellatrix or Tom… they should be the ones-”

“A chain is only as strong as its weakest link.”

The woman held her hands out. Darcia's eyes were drawn to her thin, spidery fingers that ended in long, sharpened nails. As she spread her hands wide, a thick, silver chain materialized, growing from thin air to a length of four feet.

“You are the weakest link, Darcia Malfoy. A spoiled, entitled child. Too mentally frail to survive the fires of this cruel world. Dependent on those bound to you. Impulsive, you have committed many sins.”

Darcia grit her teeth, tears streaming down her face. “You don't think I know that?! You don't think I beat myself up every fucking night about how weak I am? About what I did to Hermione? To Harry?”

The woman pulled the chain taut, the links straining but holding firm.

Then, veins began to pop in her forearms as her once slim, dainty arms suddenly bulged with a grotesque amount of muscle.

Darcia gasped at the horrifying sight of this once delicate looking woman growing monstrous, hulking arms, her veins writhing as she tugged at the chain with inhuman force.

And still, the chain would not break.

The woman ceased her tugging, her arms deflating back to their previous selves as she shifted the chain one link over.

This new link was rusted, with visible hairline fractures crisscrossing it all over.

She barely even pulled at it, needing only to hold it taut for a second for the link to shatter completely.

Darcia didn't know why. But the sight of the rusted metal crumbling to pieces onto the grass horrified her. It left a pit in her stomach as the woman let the chain fall onto the earth.

“Darcia Malfoy. Will you accept the trial? If you refuse, or if you fail, you will never see the Fount. Your mother will perish. Your friends will not wake, you must do this on your own.”

Darcia could feel her hands trembling. It took every ounce of effort for her to keep her wand from falling off her grip. She squeezed the life out of the length of hawthorn, as if her life depended on it.

It surely did.

Darcia was terrified. She did not want to face whatever challenge this lady had set out for her. She certainly didn't want to face it alone. She needed Harry and Hermione by her side. She needed Tom, Bella and Andi to handle it. She needed Tonks to make a quip that would let her know that whatever happened, she would be safe.

But there was none of that. She was alone, facing down a monster, and her mother's life was hanging in the balance.

“I-I… I accept.”