Kieryn NightFire - Volume One - Prologue

CHAPETER SIX

THE YULE BALL

On a December night, Kieryn got ready for bed. She thought of how she had just come back from another D.A. lesson, almost completing a corporeal Patronus. She felt odd with everyone’s reactions, along with her own Patronus when it appeared. It looked large and scaly, with horns and large leathery things splayed out. She had barely got a good look at it when her concentration flickered out. It looked suspiciously like a dragon, as everyone else thought.

As Kieryn nestled into her bed, she ran over everything that had happened that day. It made her tired, and she fell into a deep sleep…

“You were supposed to destroy the Sith, not join them!” a man’s voice cried in loss.

“I hate you!” another man’s voice yelled in agony.

“I loved you. I loved you like a brother. And you betray me like this! What about Padme?” the first man’s voice called again.

She felt agony, pain, and loss at the same time. She saw flashes of images, more vivid than the ones in Divination. They were short, violent, and fast. She couldn’t take it all…

“Kieryn! Kieryn wake up!!” someone was shaking Kieryn roughly.

Kieryn struggled, something burning in her chest. She felt strangled as if in a tight bond.

“Kieryn, stop moving, you’re going to strangle yourself! Go get some help!” Hermione called at someone.

Kieryn sat up straight, looking around her. She was entangles with her bed sheets, sweating her life out. The necklace was burning hot, and not in a good way.

Lavender burst in, gasping. “Turns out Harry had bad dreams too. He keeps saying something about the Ministry of Magic and how Mr. Weasley is hurt!”

Kieryn stumbled out of her bed, found her footing, and ran down the steps to the Common Room. There was Harry, with Ron looking at him with worry. Harry was drenched in sweat, as she was.

Professor McGonagall looked stricken. “You two are to report to Professor Dumbledore’s office immediately!”

“But it wasn’t an ordinary dream…it was real…I saw it happen…” Harry took a deep breath, “Ron’s dad – Mr. Weasley – has been attacked by a giant snake.”

“How did you see this?” Dumbledore asked quietly, not looking at Harry.

Kieryn felt overwhelmed and faint, knowing vaguely that the same two hooded figures were whispering to each other hurriedly in a corner. She felt like she was being watched.

“Well …I don’t know,” said Harry, rather angrily. “Inside my head, I suppose –

“You misunderstand me,” said Dumbledore in a calm tone. “I mean…can you remember – er – where you were positioned as you watched this attack happen? Were you perhaps standing beside the victim, or else looking down on the scene from above?”

“I was the snake,” he said. “I saw it all happen from the snake’s point of view….”

Nobody spoke for a moment, and then Dumbledore, now looking at Ron, who was looking whey-faced, said in a new and sharper voice, “Is Arthur seriously injured?”

“Yes.” said Harry emphatically. Kieryn thought to herself of why everyone but her and Harry were so slow on the uptake, did they not realize how much a person bled when fangs that long pierced their side? And why would Dumbledore not look at Harry?

But Dumbledore stood up so quickly that Harry and Kieryn jumped, and addressed one of the old portraits hanging very near the ceiling.

“Everard?” he said sharply. “And you too, Dilys!”

A sallow-faced wizard with short black bangs and an elderly witch with long silvery ringlets in the frame beside him, both of whom seemed to be in the deepest of sleeps, opened their eyes immediately.

“You were listening?” said Dumbledore.

The wizard nodded, the witch said, “Naturally,”

“The man has red hair and glasses,” said Dumbledore. “Everard, you will need to raise the alarm, make sure he is found by the right people –

Both nodded and move sideways out of their frames, but instead of emerging in neighboring pictures (as usually happened in Hogwarts), neither appeared; one frame now contained nothing but a backdrop of a dark curtain, the other a handsome leather armchair. Kieryn noticed that many other headmasters and mistresses on the walls, though snoring and drooling most convincingly, kept sneaking peeks at her under their eyelids.

“Everard and Dilys were two of Hogwarts’s most celebrated Heads,” Dumbledore said, now sweeping around Harry, Ron, Kieryn, and Professor McGonagall and approaching the magnificent sleeping bird on his perch beside the door. “Their renown is such that both have portraits hanging in other important Wizarding institutions. As they are free to move between their own portraits they can tell us what may be happening elsewhere…

“But Mr. Weasley could be anywhere!” said Harry indignantly.

“Please sit down, all four of you.” said Dumbledore, as if Harry had not spoken. “Everard and Dilys may not be back for several minutes…. Professor McGonagall, if you could draw up some extra chairs…”

Professor McGonagall pulled her wand from the pocket of her dressing gown and waved it; three chairs appeared out of thin air, straight-backed and wooden, quite unlike the comfortable chintz armchairs that Dumbledore had conjured before.

Kieryn sat down, watching Dumbledore over her shoulder. Dumbledore was now stroking Fawkes’s plumed golden head with on finger. The phoenix awoke immediately. He stretched his beautiful head high and observed Dumbledore through bright, dark eyes.

“We will need,” said Dumbledore very quietly to the bird, “a warning.”

There was a flash of fire and the phoenix was gone.

Dumbledore now swooped down upon on one of the silver instruments, carried it over to his desk, sat down facing them again, and tapped it gently with the tip of his wand.

The instrument tinkled to life at once with rhythmic clinking noises. Tiny puffs of pale green issued from the minuscule silver tube at the top. Dumbledore watched the smoke closely, his brow furrowed, and after a few seconds, the tiny puffs became a steady stream of smoke that thickened and coiled in the air….A serpent’s head grew out of the end of it, opening its mouth wide. Kieryn was reminded dreadfully of the snake she encountered the earlier day.

“Naturally, naturally,” murmured Dumbledore apparently to himself; still observing them stream of smoke without the slightest sign of surprise. “But is essence divided?”

Kieryn make neither head nor tail of this question. The smoke serpent, however, split itself instantly into two snakes, both coiling and undulating in the dark air. With a look of grim satisfaction Dumbledore gave the instrument another gentle tap with his wand: the clinking noise slowed and died, and the smoke serpents grew faint, becoming a formless haze, and vanished.

Dumbledore replaced the instrument upon its spindly little table; Kieryn saw many of the old headmasters in the portrait follow him with their eyes, then, realizing that she and Harry were watching them, hastily pretend to be sleeping again. Kieryn wanted to ask what the strange silver instrument was for, but before she could do so, there was a shout from the top of the wall to their right; the wizard called Everard had reappeared in his portrait, panting slightly.

“Dumbledore!”

“What news?” Dumbledore said at once.

“I yelled until someone came running,” said the wizard, who was mopping his brow on the curtain behind him, “said I’d heard something move downstairs - they weren’t sure whether to believe me but went down to check – you know there are no portraits down their to watch from. Anyway, they carried him up after a few minutes later. He doesn’t look good, he’s covered in blood, I ran along to Elfrida Gragg’s portrait to get a good view as they left –

“Good,” said Dumbledore as Ron made a convulsive movement, “I take it Dilys will have seen him arrive, then –

And moments later, the silver-ringletted witch had reappeared in her picture too; she sank, coughing, into her armchair and said, “Yes, they’ve taken him to St. Mungo’s, Dumbledore…. They carried him past under my portrait…. He looks bad….”

“Thank you,” said Dumbledore. He looked around at Professor McGonagall.

“Minerva, I need you to go and wake the other Weasley children.”

“Of course….”

Professor McGonagall got up and moved swiftly to the door; Kieryn cast a sideways glance at Ron, who was now looking terrified.

“And Dumbledore – what about Molly?” said Professor McGonagall.

“That will be a job for Fawkes when he has finished keeping a look for anyone approaching,” said Dumbledore. “But she may already know…that excellent clock of hers…”

Kieryn could only stare absently at Dumbledore, not knowing what he was talking about.

Dumbledore was now rummaging in a cup board behind Harry and Ron. He emerged from it carrying a blackened old kettle, which he placed carefully on the desk. He raised his wand and murmured “Portus”; for a moment the kettle trembled, glowing with an odd blue light, then it quivered to a rest, as solidly black as ever.

Dumbledore marched over to another portrait, this time of a clever-looking wizard with a pointed beard, who had been painted with wearing the Slytherin colors of green and silver and was apparently sleeping so deeply that he could not hear Dumbledore’s voice when he attempted to rouse him.

“Phineas. Phineas.”

And now the subjects of the other portraits lining the room were no longer pretending to be asleep; they were shifting around in their frames, better to watch what was happening. When the clever-looking wizard continued to feign sleep, some of them shouted his name too.

Phineas! Phineas! PHINEAS!”

He could not pretend any longer; he gave a theatrical jerk and opened his eyes wide.

“Did someone call?”

“I need you to visit your other portrait again, Phineas.” said Dumbledore. “I’ve got another message.

“Visit my other portrait?” said Phineas in a reedy voice, giving a long fake yawn (his eyes traveling around the room and focused on Harry). “Oh no, Dumbledore, I am too tired tonight….”

The portraits on the surrounding walls broke into a storm of protest.

“Insubordination, sir!” roared a corpulent, red-nosed wizard, brandishing his fists.

“We are honor-bound to give service to the present Headmaster of Hogwarts!” cried a frail-looking old wizard. “Shame on you, Phineas!”

“Shall I persuade him, Dumbledore?” called a gimlet-eyed witch, raising an unusually thick wand that looked not unlike a birch wand.

“Oh, very well,” said the wizard called Phineas, eyeing this wand slightly apprehensively, “though he may well have destroyed my picture by now, he’s done most of my family –

“Sirius knows not to destroy your portrait,” said Dumbledore. “You are to give him the message that Arthur Weasley has been gravely injured and that his wife, children, and Harry Potter will be arriving at his house shortly. Do you understand?”

“Arthur Weasley, injured, wife and children and Harry Potter coming to stay,” repeated Phineas in a bored voice. “Yes, Yes…very well….”

He sloped away into the frame of the portrait and disappeared from view.

“Dumbledore…What will happen to me?” Kieryn asked anxiously.

“I’m afraid I cannot send you with your brother with all the security out there. All I can tell you is that you will have to stay here and fend for yourself; and wish you the best of luck to remain out of trouble.” Dumbledore answered. Kieryn felt the blood drain from her face.

At the very moment he had finished speaking, the study door opened again. Fred, George, and Ginny were ushered inside by Professor McGonagall; all three of them looking disheveled and shocked, still in their night things.

“Harry – what’s going on?” asked Ginny, who looked frightened. “Professor McGonagall says you saw Dad hurt –

“Your father has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix.” said Dumbledore before Harry could speak. Kieryn could only stare. What was the Order of the Phoenix? “He has been taken to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back to Sirius’s house, which is much more convenient for the Hospital than the Burrow. You will meet your mother there.”

“How’re we going?” asked Fred, looking shaken. “Floo powder?”

“No,” said Dumbledore, “Floo powder is not safe at the moment, the Network is being watched. You will be taking a Portkey.” He indicated the old kettle lying innocently on his desk. “We are just waiting for Phineas to report back…. I wish to be sure that the coast is clear before sending you –

There was a flash of flame in the very middle of his office, leaving behind a single golden feather that floated gently to the floor.

“It is Fawkes’s warning,” said Dumbledore, catching the feather as it fell. “She must know your out of your beds…Minerva, go and head her off – tell her any story –

Professor McGonagall was gone in a swish of tartan.

“He says he’ll be delighted,” said a bored voice behind Dumbledore; the wizard called Phineas had reappeared in from of his Slytherin banner. “My great-great-grandson had always the odd taste in house guests….”

“Come here, then,” Dumbledore said to Harry and the Weasleys. “And quickly, before anyone else joins us…”

Harry and the others gathered around Dumbledore’s desk.

“You have all used a Portkey before?” and they nodded, each reaching out to touch some part of the blackened kettle. “Good, on the count of three then… one… two…”

It happened in a fraction of a second: in the infinitesimal pause before Dumbledore said “three,” Harry looked up at him – they were very close together – and Dumbledore’s clear blue gaze moved from the Portkey to Harry’s face.

Kieryn stared as the five people standing in front of her disappeared into thin air. Dumbledore turned to her.

“I want you to be on your guard at all times. That article may have disappeared into the past, but people will still remember it. Do not try to explain to anyone who challenges you. If you are trapped, keep them talking until you find a way out. Your best chance is to run for it if it comes to a duel. Do not bring anyone else into the fray if it turns into a fight. You may go.” Dumbledore told her seriously. Kieryn could only nod and walked involuntarily to the door. As soon as it closed behind her, voices broke out in deep conversation.

Kieryn felt very tired the next morning as she dressed. Hermione was not there, as she had gone on vacation with her parents, and neither was Luna in the Great Hall.

Her days became dull and boring, without no one to talk to (Luke had refused to talk to her since the incident with the snake). Malfoy had avoided her for unknown reasons, but she had always kept her wand close at hand.

Her breakfast felt cold and tasteless after the thirteenth day alone. To her complete and utter bewilderment, Hedwig floated down to her during the morning delivery. She hooted friendly, nipping Kieryn’s finger gently. She held out her leg for Kieryn to take the letter. Kieryn untied it and ripped it open as Hedwig took a drink from her pumpkin juice and flew off.

Dear Kieryn,

We tried to write to you as much information as we could, not much time and parchment as we would like, you know. Everything is fine here in London, and Sirius is really happy we’re here.

Shut up, Harry! She doesn’t even know half of what they say about Sirius! She may still think he’s that mass murderer of thirteen people!

He’s your god father, just so you know.

Ron!! We were going to tell her without your help! She won’t even know half the story and now she knows that he’s her god father.

Way to go, Ron

What? She was going to find out anyway! And he isn’t a murderer, and whenever we talk of him, we call him Snuffles. Peter Pettigrew actually killed those thirteen people, cutting off his finger to make it more dramatic - the coward. Anyway, Pettigrew works for You-Know-Who now. So don’t worry.

Ron!!! Ronald!!! Ron, you idiot! Git

I swear I will kill you the next time you are so foul! I will flay your skin and feed your bones to the wolves, and I don’t mean Sirius!

Well, we’re writing this during this really loud argument, and we aren’t allowed to talk to each other. Hold on, Mum is looking at the letter. She’s probably going to kill Ron before Hermione gets the chance….

…Okay, back; Ron got grounded, so he isn’t happy. We got chucked out of the room because of what Ron wrote, the git. We’re sorry you couldn’t come. Ginny got angry and almost threw a fit when she realized this. She kept hurling dungbombs at the conference room. It stank really badly, but she didn’t get caught. Sirius is an animagus by the way. Dumbledore said there was no way how the Ministry could get their hands on this letter, so that’s why we’re able to tell you such things. Have a Merry Christmas!

CHUDLEY CANNONS RULE

Write a more decent team next time in the letters, Ron.

Best wishes,

Harry Potter Hermione Granger Ron Weasley Ginny Weasley Fred & George Weasley

P.S. Goof luck in the Yule Ball, Mum sent you a dress to wear for the dance. Fred and George are making loads from what their selling. They weren’t happy when Mum took some of the money, but let it go when they realized it was for you I think it’s pretty. And give a punch to Malfoy from me if he asks you.

Kieryn grinned at the letter, amused at what she read. She was surprised at what Ginny last wrote in the letter. She wondered what kind of dress it would be, trying not to be greedy on what she thought what the dress looked like.

When she had finished her breakfast, she returned to the Common Room with a new spring in her step. She searched through her bag urgently for a piece of parchment, a quill, and her inkwell, and wrote slowly on the parchment, careful not to make a mess.

Dear everyone at London,

Thanks for the letter. It cheered me up. I can’t guarantee if this has been read or not by the Ministry, so I’ll stay careful. Hedwig is tired, so I’m using a different owl.

Really? I wish I could meet Snuffles. Oh yeah, next time, Ron, shut up and let Hermione and Ginny explain. Although, I’m not sure which is worse, and enrage d Mrs. Weasley, or Hermione who wants to kill you…Anyway, just be careful with what you say.

Hogwarts is fine here, I guess. A lot less people; Malfoy hasn’t bothered me yet. Dumbledore told me to watch my back now that none of you are here. Luna’s gone too, unfortunately.

Thank you for the dress too, Mrs. Weasley. Don’t worry, Ginny, if that arrogant toe rag asks me, I’ll jinx him. I’ve found a couple of good ones in the Library.

I’ll send your Christmas presents in the next letter, when I get a chance to go to Hogsmeade.

With much love,

Kieryn Potter

P.S. Give my best wishes to Mr. Weasley, for me please!

Kieryn read the letter over several times before adding her name. She sealed it within the letter and exited the Common Room. She bounded off to the Owlery, passing students talking excitedly about the Yule Ball and Christmas.

A vague thought fluttered at the back of her mind, reminding her that she had no partner. But the rest of her dismissed it, not caring for she liked no boys other than her friends.

As she trudged through the snow on the trail, clutching her arms around her, wondering what the ball would be like. She came to the Owlery quicker than she realized, lost in thought, running into the door of the Owlery.

Rubbing her head where she crashed into the door, she opened it. She came up with the idea of singing…she was clueless where this idea had come up, but did not consider it a bad one. As she tied the letter to a Great Horned Owl, she heard the door creak open behind her.

She turned her head, and saw Luke entering the structure. Uninterested, she turned back to the owl, releasing it out the window. She passed Luke on the way out, surprised how she could be so cold and cool-headed in front of him. She felt his eyes burning in her back as she shut the door behind her. She trudged noncommittally back to the castle, feeling strange and a satisfaction with the way she acted in front of him.

Looking behind her, she saw Luke exiting the Owlery, looking directly at her distant form. They met eyes. They held each others gaze for several moments until Kieryn turned her back to him abruptly, not wanting anything to do with him. She picked her way coldly, not caring how he felt. Slowly, so very slowly, her heart turned to stone.

“Do you think you’ll have a chance with that Potter girl now that all her friends are gone? I heard that she even started ignoring that boy that she seemed to like for a while.” a Slytherin boy asked Malfoy.

“Did she now? Well, that doubles my chances, I’m sure. She’ll have no on else to turn to now if she wants to look good during the Ball.” said Malfoy arrogantly. The boys around him stared at him enviously.

One of them pointed to Kieryn as she entered the Entrance Hall. “Hey look! There she is now! Go ask her!”

Kieryn stopped, and glared coldly in their direction, waiting.

Malfoy, realizing she was waiting for him impatiently, strutted up to her magnificently, like a peacock showing off its feathers.

“Will you accompany me to the dance?” he asked her, giving her an inquiring yet alluring look. Kieryn knew any other girl who was asked this question from Malfoy would fall for him immediately. She wasn’t as easily charmed.

“No, I won’t. And don’t bother asking again. Now go away and leave me alone.” Kieryn hissed at him frostily. She looked away from him, turning towards the direction of the stairs, and walked on.

Once she reached the second flight of stairs, she heard Luke enter. She did not bother to look at him this time, even though they both knew she had heard him. She heard Malfoy shout something at him. She stopped to listen to what they said, though did not turn around to see what was happening.

“…dropped you, did she? If I told you once, I told you a thousand times, she’ll never like you.” Malfoy said sneeringly.

“Doesn’t look like she agreed to you either,” Luke snapped back.

“Ha! She already said yes to me, I just asked her. She seemed a bit desperate, but apparently not enough to go with you.”

Anger flared in Kieryn. The liar! She flashed out her wand, finally turning around to glare down at Malfoy’s head from a distance. She raised her wand, aiming carefully, and whispered “Petrificus Totalus!” and Malfoy stood stock still and fell backwards. Luke and the other boys turned to the direction of where the spell was cast, but she had already stuffed her wand in her pocket and continued to walk casually up the flight of stairs.

Suddenly, Kieryn felt an overwhelming need to be alone, where no one could intrude her either on purpose or by accident. She walked on, changing her direction to the fifth floor.

By the time she reached the fifth floor corridor, she knew Luke was following her.

She stopped and turned around to face him. He looked startled but opened his mouth to say something.

But she cut across from him. “Don’t even bother asking because I’ll say no. And why now, after all, you’ve ignored me for a good two moons? Why? Am I a last resort? I don’t take that sort of crap. If you have nothing better to say, then go away.” She hissed at him. Before he could reply back, she whipped around and stalked into the Room of Requirement, where she knew he couldn’t enter.

What was inside startled her. It looked greatly like the Common Room, only it didn’t have any portraits or other students sitting in the comfy chairs in front of the fire. Expert looking desks were scattered around the room, while bookcases were filled with large tomes. A room led off to what she could see as a bathroom and a comfortable looking bedroom.

She sat down in front of the fire, laying her head back on the arm rest. Tiredness filled inside her, and she fell asleep instantaneously.

Kieryn woke up with a start. Her eyes flicked open. She did not move. She knew someone was in here.

Her spine tingled and the hairs of the back of her neck rose as she heard movement. She remained limp, closing her eyes, feigning deep slumber.

Someone sighed in relief. She forced herself not to stiffen with wariness. She listened to the scratching of quill against parchment. A scent wafted to her nose, and realized Luke had entered the room. Coldness filled up inside her as she took notice of this.

Summoning up her courage, she called out, “Why are you here?”

He jumped, and a clattering sound followed. Apparently, he had fallen out of his seat in fright.

He did not answer immediately.

“Well?” she called out again.

“I would have asked you the same thing.” He answered slyly.

“Don’t play coy with me, how did you get in here?” she said angrily.

“The same way as you did,” he answered. There was humor in his voice. She rolled her eyes, and stood up. He looked at her, his head cocked, his eyes inscrutable.

She did not look at him, and walked, irritated, out of the room.

“Why do you do that?” asked Luke.

“Why do you keep following me?” Kieryn asked, aggravated.

“Why do you keep going away?” he was becoming more annoyed. Kieryn felt a satisfaction rise inside her.

“I’m trying to get away from you – It struck Kieryn who he really was. She turned to him, taking in every aspect of his features. She noticed, hidden almost completely by his cloak, the tip of a silvery object.

She ran for it. Luke lunged for her, but missed. She heard his feet pounding lightly behind her. He lunged again, this time grabbing her arm. Kieryn was pulled into an unexpected halt, and heard a sickening crack in her right wrist. Anger and fear burst within her as the pain racked her arm.

Then a sudden, warm feeling entered the tips of her fingers and Luke was blasted away from her. The sudden force took so much energy from Kieryn’s body that she could no longer support her weight. She collapsed, not only from the loss of energy, not only from her broken wrist that lay at her side, but from all the information that she had just put together, like a puzzle with a thousand pieces.

Kieryn tip-toed to the old witch on the seventh floor; She tapped hump of the witch’s back while muttering “Dissemdium!” and the hump opened. Kieryn was not supposed to go to Hogsmeade over the weekend so her broken wrist could heal, but she had other ideas. Her right wrist was wrapped in bandages, and she was careful not to twist it too much with the wand in her hand.

She walked through the dark, cold passageway, until she came to some stairs. They seemed to last forever, until she bumped her head on the trap door. Rubbing it in pain, she opened it slowly, just enough to see what lay beyond the stone floor.

Boxes covered in dust while a swirling light of various colors radiate from the top of some rickety stairs.

Taking the Invisibility Cloak Harry had left behind for her to use, she covered herself. She stepped quietly out, trying to make as little noise as she put the stone slab back in place.

She weaved through the large boxes of candy and stepped delicately onto the steps. It creaked loudly. She was thankful that Honeydukes was very full today, for she was sure it would be heard if at least a person left the building.

The sudden brightness blinded her for a few moments after spending uncountable time in the passageway. She weaved through students, careful not to push into anyone or step on their toes.

She picked out several items from the shelves (Honeydukes chocolate for Harry and Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans for Ron) and laid the appropriate amount of money on the counter, still invisible to any wandering eyes.

She continued to Scrivenshaf