"Pacifism is objectively pro-Fascist...' he that is not with me is against me.' "

- George Orwell.

Layzelle Manor was resplendent; huge crystal chandeliers hung from the cathedral ceilings, and breathtaking murals of demons and angels waged in battle graced the walls. Grecian pillars with carved vines held the dome shaped roof up. Ginny stepped into the house, looking for her friends.

“Ginny, in here,” came a voice, sounding very much like Cassandra Lauzerte.

“Hey, guys,” Ginny said breathlessly. Walking into the large living room, she found both girls spread out on low-lying cushions of moss green. Cassandra had her brownish-red hair piled atop her head and secured with a quill, and her attire gave no impression that there was a female in there anywhere. The huge Muggle sweatshirt and jeans she was wearing dwarfed her completely, but wisdom and innocence shone through her hazel eyes. The pensive expression on her face told Ginny that right now the girl was in thinking mode. Kiara was sprawled beside her, probably counting ways to kill Blaise Zabini, the bane of her existence, as well as the reason for it. A tall and lanky girl, she didn’t make Ginny feel awkward about her height because at 5’7”, she was no dwarf herself. Long dark hair spilled over her shoulders and fawn-like chocolate eyes gave her a look of purity. Ginny snorted - the thought of those two as chaste? HAH! “You look so innocent sitting there, one would never think you could get up to half the stuff you do.”

“That’s the idea, silly goose,” Cass said, grinning.

“I think I want to disembowel him using tongs,” Kiara speculated.

Cass rolled her eyes. “She’s been thinking of ways to kill Blaise ever since this morning when he wouldn’t tell her about the failed Animagus test.”

“Blaise failed?”

“Ya-huh. So did Draco and Skye.”

“No way! So did Ron,” Ginny said, slightly disturbed by the coincidence.

Kiara shot up from her cushion. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, he’s been acting all out of sorts lately, but it’s not exactly bad. He’s just a lot more quiet and brooding. When you look at him you just want to keep your distance. There is something menacing about him,” Ginny answered, not sure why she was telling the two Slytherins this to begin with.

Kiara narrowed her eyes speculatively. “Who else reminds you of that description?”

A realization dawned on Cass’s face. “You don’t think it’s true?” she gasped.

“It has to be. All of it doesn’t make sense otherwise.”

“I suppose you're right, but I just don’t see the connection.”

“So that explains his tetchy mood.”

Ginny looked at the two girls. They would always do this, start their banter and go off into their own world while everyone else around them would fade into the woodwork. “What the hell are you two talking about?”

“Oh, um, well, you see, it’s the Blood Scythe Brotherhood.”

“The what?” Cassandra was looking at Kiara; the blood had drained from her face, rage sparkling in the warm brown eyes, her hands tight fists, the whites of her knuckles showing.

“Kiara, don’t blow it. You don’t know if he is hiding anything from you.” The apprehension made Ginny wonder what the girls were talking about.

“Will one of you please tell me what the fuck is going on? And why is Kiara pulling a scary madwoman act?” Ginny realized it was the wrong thing to say, especially when all eyes turned to her. They had murder written in them. Everything about the girls’ body language told Ginny to run like hell.

“Kiara Layzelle, you stop it right now or help me Bael, I’ll make you regret it!” There was that subtle change in color in Cassie’s eyes, the hazel burning a bright yellow. But Kiara couldn’t look away from Ginny. “Kiara, stop it, you’re scaring her.”

“She isn’t …” protested Ginny but it was an outright lie: the other girl was terrifying her.

“Shut up, you twit!” snapped Cassandra, then, just as rapidly as it had come, the rage left her and the fiery depths turned into molten chocolate.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lost it like that. Trust is the most important thing in a relationship to me, without it there is nothing to build on,” Kiara said softly.

“No prob, Bob, just better control. You know you need better control.” They were smiling merrily again as if nothing had transpired. Ginny shook her head, wondering just who she was friends with; the about-turn of Kiara’s moods made Ginny question if the other girl was bi-polar. Cassandra and Kiara were an enigma to Hogwarts; they had transferred in but no one knew quite from where. It wasn’t Beauxbatons or Durmstrang, but their knowledge was unparalleled. Even Hermione had a hard time keeping up, especially with Cassandra--the girl was like a magical encyclopedia. When asked they smiled blandly and replied “home schooled”. Kiara excelled at Defense Against the Dark Arts and, rumor had it, dabbled quite a bit in the Dark Arts herself. Both girls were caught making Layla, a sixth year Hufflepuff, do their bidding and she wasn’t even under the Imperius Curse. As far as Ginny knew, there was no other way, but there was no proof otherwise. What troubled her was that neither girl seemed in the least bit sorry for anything they did.

“I’m still interested in what that was all about,” Ginny said finally, the Gryffindor stubbornness rearing its ugly head. She saw a look pass between the two girls and resolutely decided that she was going to get to the bottom of the mystery that was otherwise known as Cas ‘n’ Kiara. Kiara cocked her head to the side, looking her up and down. It made Ginny uneasy, she felt like she was being sized up by a predator.

“And why should we tell you anything?” Kiara mused.

“Because it’s what friends do, they share.” Ginny's words showed a confidence she wasn’t feeling.

“My friend already knows everything there is to know about me.”

“Quit being anal, Kiara, she has a right to know, especially when you decide to go postal on her,” Cassandra warned.

Kiara pouted. “Spoilsport,” she teased, sticking out her tongue. Then, turning those inscrutable eyes onto Ginny, she said, “So you want to know what that was all about. Well, I don’t think I am quite ready to divulge that to you, but given time maybe I will. As for the reason for my little spastic bout, well, I think you should know about it because I think it involves your brother, too.”

“How on earth could anything to do with you lot involve Ron? No offense, but he really doesn’t like Slytherins.”

“Oh, that’s okay, Slytherins don’t like him either,” piped up Cass. Ginny had to grin; the girl’s bubbly personality and quirky way of talking was an ice breaker. “But you have to admit, your brother has been acting more like one of us than a Gryffindor.”

“What we are trying to say is that they may have been chosen to be a part of the Blood Scythe Brotherhood. We don’t know for sure and that is probably why Blaise wouldn’t tell me anything, but I know it. They have been chosen and there is no turning back from this brotherhood.” Ginny didn’t like the sounds of it. For Ron to have anything in common with a Slytherin? It just didn’t seem plausible. However, the changes in him were undoubtedly of a Slytherin nature.

“He’s going to the Ministry tomorrow,” Ginny thought out loud.

“So are the boys,” Cass said, then turned to Kiara. “Oh, no you don’t, Layzelle, that look means trouble.”

Kiara looked at her with widely open eyes. “I’m innocent!”

“The hell you are,” muttered Ginny.

“Kiara, I know you, and you’ve got the I’m-up-to-no-good-face.”

“I was just thinking.”

Ginny gasped. “A thinking Slytherin, will wonders never cease?”

“Keep it up, Carrot Top, and my thought patterns will take a decidedly violent turn.” Kiara smiled sweetly.

Deciding not to test her luck, Ginny thought it best not to push the already over-the-edge girl further. “So what were you thinking?” she asked instead.

“I think that we should help.”

“With what?” Ginny asked skeptically.

“With what undoubtedly is the reason the Brotherhood is being called upon again: safety of the wizarding world, of course.” She said this as if it was the most logical thing in the world.

“Of all the times to come up with a harebrained idea, she chooses now,” deadpanned Cassandra.

“Can I make a suggestion?” Ginny interjected.

“Sure, doesn’t mean we’ll take it,” Cass replied nonchalantly.

“Look, we can snipe all night long and still get nowhere, none of what we have is concrete. Why don’t we just wait until they get back from the Ministry to figure out what it is exactly and then work on helping? Believe me, I would like nothing more than to exterminate the waste that Voldemort has left around. I will join you in this venture, but let’s just see where it goes before jumping the wand.” Ginny was deadly calm about it; she knew she would fight alongside the girls but she wanted it to be absolutely certain that the Brotherhood had started again. After all, she had a bone to pick with Lucius Malfoy.

“One day won’t hurt any, Kiara. Give them a chance to prove our speculation right.”

“Okay, they have one day, then I’m donning the leathers and getting to work.” With that, she got up and flounced out of the room.

“Is she always that impulsive?”

“Ya-huh, this one time, she decided to… Well, never mind, that falls into the ‘Things about Kiara that I will never repeat’ category. A word of advice though, don’t push Kiara too far, you have no idea what she is capable of. I don’t know what your beef is with her, but as her friend I can assure you, you don’t want Kiara as an enemy and even worse, you don’t want me as one.” Those sparkling eyes were a cold slate gray, forcing Ginny back a few steps. What the fuck am I getting myself into? she thought, staring at the petite girl. Cassandra gave her an eerie grin. “Don’t worry, Gin, we aren’t that bad.”

Ginny shook her head. “Nutters is what you are, both of you, bloody nutters. But I like you, you are honest about yourselves to a degree and I really would rather you as friends than enemies. There is already enough hate in this world, we don’t need to add to it. We need to work together to end it.” Cassandra smiled, eyes now a warm honey.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “We will work together to end this.”

~*~*~*~

Ron arrived at the Ministry with a black cloud surrounding him. His mood soured even more at the sight of the other three that were approaching from the other side.

“Weasley,” nodded Skye, his cerulean eyes revealing as much as a black hole would.

“Larkin,” Ron returned curtly. He took in the other two of the group. Malfoy looked like an icicle as usual, but he seemed to be preoccupied with something. Zabini was looking at him with a peculiar glare; something about those acid-green eyes was unnerving as they sized him up.

“You failed, didn’t you, Weasley?” he asked. Ron immediately stiffened. His dislike for Slytherins, while a lot less than his Hogwarts years, was in no way abated.

“No, I did not,” he gritted out. “The bloody Ministry officials are just blind as bats.”

“I concur,” Blaise said, throwing the Gryffindor off track. “Shall we, then?”

“Oh don’t gape, Weasley, we are all here for the same thing,” Skye said, grinning. The mood around them was tense, but they all had the same agenda and it would be foolish to ignore the tentative olive branch handed out by Zabini.

They made for a dramatic image walking into the Ministry, each breathtaking in his own right, but it wasn’t their looks that had people parting for them, it was the inherent danger that surrounded them. Their black robes billowed about them as they stormed to the registration offices. “The bleeding apocalypse is here,” muttered a Ministry official as he cleared their path. Indeed, they looked like the four horsemen of the apocalypse: Death, War, Famine and Pestilence. Draco, pale as Death; Ron with his deep red hair was War; Blaise with his black hair and towering height was Famine; and Skye, light of skin and eyes and with a royal demeanor, was Pestilence.

“May I help you?” simpered a secretary who was way past her golden years.

“We are here to see whichever idiot it was that failed us on our Animagus tests,” Draco said tersely.

“Well, hmm, I don’t know who that would be.”

“Excuse me?” Blaise said, his patience not doing him any favors.

“Well, we don’t have records of any that failed this time.” They looked at her blankly. Huffing, she said, “What I mean is that no one failed their tests in the past four testing dates.”

“This feels like the fucking twilight zone,” muttered Ron. Skye took a look at his compatriots and decided to intervene before one of them turned the secretary into something foul. Smiling at her, he could see the effect immediately. She straightened up a bit, adjusting the horrid flower on her lapel, which rather looked as if a raccoon was stuck to her bosom.

“All my friends and I would like to know is why we got letters informing us of our failed status.”

“Well, let me just take a look, then. What was your name dear?” she gushed.

“Skye Larkin.” He watched her flick through parchment after parchment with a puckered brow.

“That’s odd; I don’t have any Skye Larkin in my books.”

“What about Malfoy?” Draco asked.

“No, no Malfoy, either,” she said, flipping through her pages again.

“Let me guess,” Ron interrupted, “you don’t have Weasley or Zabini in there, either?”

“Oh my, aren’t we astute,” snickered Draco.

Ron glared at him. “Fuck off, Malfoy.”

The secretary looked a bit apprehensive then hurriedly said, “No… I don’t know what happened, lads, but you are not on this list. If you would like to file a complaint, I’ll be happy to handle it.”

“Well, Mary fucking sunshine …”

“We’ll come back some other day. Thanks for all your help, hon,” winked Skye, interrupting Ron and dragging the other boy away with visible force.

“Let go of me, Larkin,” growled Ron, as he shrugged the other boy off. “What the fuck are you on about?”

“I think you need to calm down before you get into trouble.”

“I just want to bloody know which one of them I need to decapitate.”

“I don’t think they know what’s going on, Weasley. This is a lot bigger than the tests,” Blaise said, his voice soft. Ron took a moment to look at the other boys.

“What is it that you aren’t telling me? You obviously know something about this that I don’t,” he snapped.

“Well, we don’t know anything per se, Weasel King, we‘re just speculating, but I don’t think we are wrong. All the evidence proves we probably have the right idea.” Draco hissed, his patience wearing incredibly thin.

“Oh joy, now they’ve turned into amateur detectives. Unspeakables, watch out!” Ron said sarcastically.

Draco stepped forward, his body tense with poorly masked frustration. “Weasley, you can choose to believe us or not, I really don’t give a fuck. You can join Potty in his quest for Horcruxes or you can go and take a flying leap over the bloody Atlantic and imitate a migrating bird. The fact remains, you are still one of the ones who failed--that’s what’s important. Either get that through your thick skull or let childish prejudices that have long since lost their appeal control your logic. I don’t care.” Color tinted his pale cheeks as the cold air whipped about. A crowd had gathered around them, watching with avid fascination as the two boys squared off. The sparks around them were flying and you could cut the tension in the air with a blunt knife. “I don’t like you Weasley, and I am under no illusions that you feel anything but hatred for me or my friends. What you fail to realize is that, I am a Slytherin; I will do whatever it takes to get what I want. If that means I have to work with Muggle-loving Gryffindors, so be it.”

Ron gave the Slytherin a penetrating look, bright blue eyes flashing icy fire. “Take your superiority and shove it Malfoy,” he spat. “You’ve got one thing correct; I don’t like you. You happen to be an infuriating egotistical maniac who believes in blood superiority without fully being aware of what it is. One concept you seem to find incredibly hard to grasp, is that, just because I happen to be a Gryffindor, does not mean I don’t know how to get what I want. You are nothing but a shadow of your father; a miserable little wannabe bad boy.”

“Enough!” Blaise said harshly. “Will the pair of you grow up? You know absolutely nothing about each other short of what your parents have told you.” The normally silent man was shaking with anger. “We need each other to solve this, whatever it is. I suggest you talk this out or bash it out, but do it somewhere relatively more private.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve come to blows,” muttered Skye, then, noticing the crowd, said, “I agree with Blaise, I think we should take this to a more secluded area.”

“Draco,” Blaise said in a warning tone.

“Where to?” he asked, without looking away from Ron.

“Kiara’s. No one is there at the moment.”

“Even Hellfire is out?” Skye asked.

“I think so, but we won’t be bothered there. Weasley, it would be advisable for you to join us; however, if you choose not to, then that’s your prerogative.” Ron gave them all a hard look. He knew that they were right: whatever it was, it involved them all.

“Yeah, I’m in,” he said, then muttered, “No sodding way he could’ve missed my change. Hell, no one in the vicinity could’ve - they were all covered in soot!”

Skye had to laugh. “Way to go, Weasley. At least all I did was light one of their robes on fire.” Ron gave him a weird look, his cobalt-colored eyes were sparkling with some of his old mischief.

“Hot for your official, Larkin?”

“You know it.” Skye winked, giving Ron’s arse a slap.

“If you two lovebirds are done, can we proceed?” Blaise asked.

“Sure, Kiara, still got that leash around your neck?”

“I think she has it somewhere more delicate,” Draco said, grinning.

“Keep it up, you lot, I’ll be sure to mention it to her,” Blaise said, walking away with as much dignity as he could muster.

“You wouldn’t,” said Skye, aghast. “We’re supposed to be your friends!” Blaise laughed maniacally as the quartet left the Ministry.