LONG post ahead... Sorry guys, but it was bound to happen once someone got to the point of needing this information.* * :sorcerer:

In response to Moody inquiring about Zekke's background...

Zekke looked taken aback and he frowned and his eyes blazed with a quiet fury. How DARE Dumbledore break his confidence!

He ground his teeth and then just as suddenly the rage had appeared, it quieted a little. He sensed genuine concern from [Moody] and sensed no ill will or deception and so he nodded a little. His own emotional defenses were lowered, but the potion Snape had given him were still in effect, which thankfully kept him stabilized.

"It's a rather long story, sir. I'm not sure exactly what Dumbledore has told you about, though I'm sure he must have told you that I'm an unusually strong empath and how I sense and feel other people's emotions and can be overwhelmed by it if I let myself feel. That is why I must keep an emotional front and it is also why I keep my distance from others to a degree. This is also why I am a Slytherin and not a Gryffindor, like I probably am better suited towards. This was an agreement between the Sorting Hat and I and it was to help keep me balanced.

I'm not sure either exactly why the Deatheaters would go to such lengths to find me, but I can hazard a fairly accurate guess.

You used my given name, sir, which is Zadkhiel, and my family secret has to do with the significance of that name. In muggle religion -- more specifically, in Christianity, the name Zadkhiel is the name of the archangel of freedom -- a powerful spiritual guardian if you will -- who is the patron of and symbolizes, enlightenment, freedom, mercy, and transmutation. Zadkhiel means 'Righteousness of God'."

He took a deep breath and wondered how he was supposed to explain the rest of the story.

"In my family line from the de Barticot side -- my pere's side, it appears that each first born is endowed with the characteristics of a certain archangel. My father, who is now in a coma, is the embodiment of the archangel Jophiel, who represents wisdom, illumination, and constancy, and I, his son, am the embodiment of the archangel Zadkhiel. This also explains my sudden... instability. Since my father represents constancy, my instability is being exacerbated because he is now in a coma and unavailable.

Now, exactly whether or not this is all true, I'm not completely positive, but it does seem that those in my family line with their archangel namesakes DO possess such characteristics and are unusually gifted in magic in the areas of those characteristics."

Zekke searched Moody's eyes for a flicker of understanding and when he nodded, Zekke continued.

Might as well say everything all at once...

"I excel at Potions, especially in concocting the ones that have to deal with healing and it is the same in Herbology, though I'm certainly not the best of student where that is concerned. The extreme empathy is part of the gift that I have only begun to develop and control."

He gave a dry chuckle. "As you can see, I'm not doing too terribly well on that, non?

Anyhow, it is said that if I am trained properly in magic and in the use of my gifts, then when I come of age, I will be given full access to my scope of gifts that come from being the embodiment of Zadkhiel in addition to the gifts of a wizard.

There was a prophecy made at my birth that said that the time for Zadkhiel was near and that when the time arose, the one who embodies Zadkhiel will be the strongest to bring light to where it was dark... or something like that. I'm not quite sure if that is exactly how it is translated from French to English, but it's close enough."

Zekke looked confused for a moment then continued.

"A few years ago, there was trouble in the French side of the Ministry where my father worked because people were snooping around and rumor had it that I was supposed to be sent to an asylum of sorts -- not because I was crazy, but because people wanted to conduct experiments on me. That is why my family moved to England and that is why I'm studying at Hogwarts now. I suppose it is beneficial that I didn't get sorted into Gryffindor because that's about the only House I should have been sorted into, but instead, I got taken out of one danger and then introduced to a second. Though because I'm a fairly new student, I've been more or less ignored by you-know-who... at least... up until now.

At any rate, I wouldn't be surprised if that is why the Deatheaters are after me and my family right now." His face hardened. "Perhaps to destroy the possibility of such a prophecy or to bring me to their side or something of the sort. Or maybe it's all an accident, though considering what they did to my father... it's no accident. My mother is now in hiding and under the Wizard Protection Program I believe and only Louis and I are left."

He glanced towards the kitchen and saw Louis watching them curiously from the doorway and he gestured for Louis to come over. When Louis did, he pulled him close and rested his hands on his younger brother's shoulders. At the moment, he felt anything BUT forgiveness and his heart was iced with fear.

Mere and pere... they're strong enough to fend for themselves... petit frere... I don't know what I'd do if... He cut off that thought.

"So that's the whole story. I think. At the moment, I am most worried for the safety of my younger brother, Louis. He's only eight and he is not well-versed enough in his abilities to protect himself at all. He is under my protection -- under my guaradianship and protected by my... well, light, as you will... but I am still extremely concerned."

He looked down at his younger brother who looked up with wide questioning eyes.

"My father got intercepted by the Deatheaters during his trip home to collect Louis and hide him away, but since my father is now unavailable, the responsbility is my own and I will not let him leave my side. My father didn't trust anyone enough to tell me to leave Louis with them -- not even our extended family -- and neither will I."

Zekke's voice was firm and his eyes were a solid forest green as they locked onto Moody. He projected as much of his concern and fears and relevant emotions in hope that Moody would understand at least some of this. At this point, he BADLY needed a confidant.

He would have told Draco, but Draco and his father were too close to Voldemort for his comfort. His friend wouldn't ever leak something like that, but if Voldemort ever got control over him... He shuddered at the thought.

Zekke found himself in the Hallways and the door to the RoR appeared in front of him. He went inside and locked the door behind himself. He had no worries that someone would find him seeing as how he had asked for a private room, specifically.

He sank down on the floor next to a replication of his bed at home and for a moment only stared. The messages had come to him too late and too many at once. Lord Voldemortist... Raphael... deaths...

Tears started streaking down his pale cheeks, but he didn't notice...

Oh my god...

He remembered when they had had their talks... How they had confided in each other... Playing Quidditch...

"Mon dieu... How could you? HOW COULD YOU?!" He turned his face upwards to the skies and screamed as the emotions overcame his senses. Something inside of him shattered and he lost control.

"How could you take her away?!" Allowing himself to fully feel the rage that had been churning inside, he screamed, cried, and wailed. Objects flew across the room, glass shattered, wood splintered, and objects everywhere were being transfigured. His eyes were blinded by furious tears and when he smashed his fist through the mirror on his wall, there was no sensation.

"Raph... Oh god, Raph..." His legs trembled beneath him and he collapsed on the floor against a wall dotted with red and embedded with shards of glass. He buried his face in his hands and sobbed deeply. "Raph... I miss you... I miss you..."

After a few long moments, he looked up and caught sight of his reflection in the mirror of the open armoire whose contents had been destroyed or strewn about the room. The green eyes were darker than pine needles and his hair was hanging about his face that was dusted with blood and grime and dirt mixed with tears and his clothes were completely disheveled.

"I swear, Raph... I swear to Merlin that I'll avenge you. I swear it. And Zadkhiel de Barticot never goes back on his promises." His voice was low and dangerous and his eyes flashed in fierce determination.

He suddenly recalled back to a time when Raph had been trying to learn more about him and had asked about his real name and he realized he had never told her.

"I... never had the chance to tell you." He whispered. "Raph, my name is Zadkhiel. Zadkhiel de Barticot." His voice cracked and he leaned his head back and closed his eyes as quiet sobs escaped his half open lips and tears trickled down his cheeks.

"My name is Zadkhiel... and I will be your avenging angel..."