Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Him Again	By : Apocalypticat Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1312 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
The Aurors dispersed, separating into three separate groups at the Chief Auror�s behest. The grounds were pitch-black and the wind cutting, ripping through cloaks like a dozen freezing knives. Harry�s eyes locked with Shacklebolt�s and Tonks�s; something emotive and solemn seemed to pass between them. The moon was not bright enough to cast shadows, yet the silhouette of the Astronomy Tower filled the grounds, reminding him, reminding them all.

�Shacklebolt, take your group outside the grounds,� Harry ordered, his voice rising and falling with the wind. �Detain anybody going in or out. Tonks - you and your lot search the grounds themselves. I�ll be heading into the Forbidden Forest with the rest. If there�s the slightest sign of movement, Stun first and ask questions later. Got that?�

There was a collective cry of assent, and the other two groups disappeared, the Aurors melting away into mere whispers and tramping feet. Harry eyed the shapeless mass of trees warily as the wind dried the back of his throat, and then gestured quickly. The cloaks around him flapped as their owners manoeuvred themselves into formation and the search began.

Tree trunks reared ominously around them; Harry was forcefully reminded of his first visit into the Forbidden Forest - which had also seen his first encounter with Voldemort since his parents� deaths. Tension electrified his muscles and impatience bit at him. Tonight was the night that an innocent death would be avenged-

Avenged? piped up a small voice in his brain. What happened to flinging him in Azkaban? Avenge?

Yes, thought Harry savagely. Sirius had proved that Azkaban could be escaped from and the lack of Dementors meant that the prison was no longer sufficient punishment. As for ethics, Snape had waived his right to any ethics-

Sirius�s wasted, serious face flashed before him. �I would say he became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark side.�

He shuddered. But that wasn�t the same, was it? Crouch had used Unforgiveables against Death Eaters, had denied them trial-

Avenge, though? How am I to do that without Avada Kedavra?

It just wasn�t the same, he told himself firmly. Snape had killed a man who had put his trust in him, who had defended him until the end. Snape was far more guilty than any of the Death Eaters Crouch had acted against, for they had never become double-agents� The Dementors had still been there, back then; Azkaban had been hell for those who deserved it�

CRACK!

He halted. Somewhere nearby, a twig had been trodden on.

Another gesture froze the Aurors. His ears strained. Again-

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

The sound of crushed undergrowth was growing louder; someone was moving towards them without attempting to conceal their approach-

Higgins, the youngest and most nervous, surged forwards.

�STUPEFY!�

Red stung Harry�s eyes. There was the swishing sound of a shield being erected, and a ping as the spell hit. Scarlet flashed away into the bushes, illuminating a raised walking stick-

�HOLD FIRE!� the Chief Auror bellowed. Someone let out a cry and wrenched their wand upwards, away from the target. Crimson flame burst upwards into the sky; for a second everything was bathed in red light-

�Professor McGonagall!� he snarled.

The silhoette of his old Head of House fuelled his fury: not only had she foolishly wandered into a high-alert situation but her presence had probably also caused any Forest inhabitants to be alerted to their existence. Who could have missed the red flare in the sky, announcing their position to anyone watching? Snape had quite possibly Disapparated during that one, vital second. For a minute he was speechless, doubting his ability to say anything without sounding rude.

�Er� sorry,� Higgins whimpered.

Harry cleared his throat and spoke coldly, bitterly. �What are you doing here, Headmistress?�

Her crisp voice echoed angrily back at him out of the dark. �I was under the impression that it was a duty of mine of investigate possible hazards to students, Mr Potter.�

As his eyes became accustomed, he could see her gaunt face mere feet away, fixed into an expression of incensed determination. The sight was infuriating.

�That is the job of the Auror Department,� he snapped, struggling to keep his voice low. �We best work without interference from members of the public-�

�Mr Potter, I was part of the resistance movement against Voldemort before you were born! I do not appreciate being labelled as �a member of the public!��

�With all due respect, Professor, this search is suspended until you return to the castle-�

The green eyes flashed and the lips went thin as the face around them hardened - but the sharp voice cracked. �You are not the only one who knew Professor Dumbledore.�

Harry clamped his jaw shut. The gale howled past the branches above, rustling the leaves. He could sense the other Aurors watching the scene uneasily, and his anger grew. Yet, he realised, the Headmistress was sharing the thoughts that had just passed through his head, was feeling the same desire for revenge. For the first time he wondered how long Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall had known each other, how long they had been friends before Snape performed his treachery. He felt his glare lose its power.

His hand signalled; the Aurors moved silently on. Minerva McGonagall�s walking stick soundlessly impacted on the ground and her hobbling shape passed him. The wet glint of her eyes was aimed at him coldly; his face twitched. He stared an apology at her and the glint lost its coldness.

They continued, ears and fingers numbed by the icy gasp of the wind. Silence rested on them, becoming heavy and intolerable. Some of the Chief Auror�s anticipation was being picked up by his subordinates; hands clasped wands more tightly than usual, eyes squinted more fearfully into the night. Harry found himself halting his breathing in order to listen more closely, tensing at every slight noise.

He was so intent on everything beyond the range of his wand that he walked into the back of Higgins, who had stopped abruptly and raised his wand. Harry stumbled and suppressed a curse; could not the young Auror even walk properly on demand? Higgins gazed desperately at him.

The Chief Auror stilled - and the sound of a soft mumbling reached his ears. The others halted, Minerva�s head cocked.

��A fool, a bloody bloody fool,� someone was hissing angrily. �The whole thing�s been a waste of time, a waste of time.�

�Uncle-�

�Shut up, yeh nitwit. Didn�t you see that flash a while back? Someone�s on the move-�

�Where�s the leader?� a third voice broke in. �Where is he? What has happened?�

�Uncle Amycus-�

�Shut up, yeh milksop. Merlin knows, Dent. He�s gone and bloody chickened out-�

The other voice grew more urgent, defensive. �Let us meet him. We�re all waiting here, Amycus, we�ve been travelling from miles around-�

�It�s useless, I tell yeh!�

Someone made a hushing noise.

�Don�t you shush at me, Cal, if you�d stayed where yeh were, just like I�d told yeh, then nobody would �ave to shush no one! And don�t yeh get like that with me, Dent; I�m the one who�s been misled-�

�I can be however I like. I don�t trust a word you say; just because you�re one of the old followers doesn�t mean-�

�Don�t yeh understand? He�s a dead end. He�s turned coward on us. Wouldn�t even rise to the idea of Brian bloody Potter-�

Harry�s fingers twitched around his wand. He could feel the blood thumping in his chest: his son! The idea of his son� The urge to run and Apparate back home and check Brain was safe was almost overpowering.

�Don�t you dare call him a coward!� another impassioned voice began. Harry couldn�t help but note that this person sounded rather young in comparison to the others. �He�s our ideal; this news is what we�ve been waiting for-�

Amycus growled. �He ain�t what we thought, Blake - he�s a ruddy fool-�

�Be careful,� came the whispered reply. �You don�t want to get in trouble for criticising the next Dark Lord-�

There was a thump and a cry of pain.

�Yeh wouldn�t know a Dark Lord if he danced the can-can in front of yeh! Don�t tell me what not to do round a Dark Lord; I�ve served a true one, I�ve been inspired by his words! This guy�s no Dark Lord - he�s a loser-�

�They say he killed the leader of light-�

�Aye - he was great then, he ain�t now-�

�Uncle Amycus-�

�For the last time-!�

�The Aurors!�

Something that had resembled part of a tree trunk broke away; other dark shapes were disgorged from the bushes. Harry glimpsed a raised wand and brought up his own-

�STUPEFY!� Higgins shrieked.

Impedimenta! Harry cried silently. Protego!

�CRUCIO!� Amycus�s gutteral voice snarled; the Chief Auror saw a lumpy shadow barrelling towards him as one of the Aurors at his side let out a scream-

�INCARCEROUS!� he shouted, aiming his wand at the approaching shadow. Amycus swore as invisible chains whipped at him, dragging him down-

Yells of stupefy and crucio were echoing around the clearing. Harry�s eyes swept to and thro, but he sensed that a certain greasy-haired man was not present, and remembered the Headmistress with a jolt. Recalling the frail form and the hobbling gait he glanced wildly around - but Minerva McGonagall was gone.

�IMPERIO!�

Harry recognised the man called Dent�s voice and shook off the curse easily, sending a Blasting jinx in the appropriate direction. Panic began to curdle within his stomach as the Headmistress�s form failed to appear-

�AWAY, AWAY!� a woman�s voice was screeching. �WE�RE OVER THE BORDER-�

An Auror shouted something that sounded suspiciously like the Anti-Apparition jinx; there was a collective scream of fury from their enemies. At the same time there was a snarl and a spitting noise - a man was clawing at his face, desperately trying to disengage a small tabby cat-

Relieved, Harry dashed forwards. �STUPEFY!� The man fell, the cat still attached to his face-

�MOSMORDRE!�

Amycus�s savage face was lit with green as the old symbol flowed out his wand, filling the sky. The sight of the vast skull created a pause in the battle; the Aurors gaped upwards with disconcerted fear and the Dark wizards screeched in joy. The Astronomy Tower passed before the Chief Auror�s eyes, as did the imagined picture of a familial house as James and Lily Potter perished�The lumpy man threw off the invisible chains and shot a look of poisonous hatred at Harry-

�What�s the matter, Potter? Does it still scare yeh?�

�STUPEFY!� Higgins cried, lunging forward suddenly. Amycus toppled over, the triumphant smirk still fixed on his vacant face.

�SECTUMSEMPRA!�

There was a yowl of animal pain, an unreal caterwaul-

�PROFESSOR!�

The tabby cat was staggering, eyes glazed and blood staining its patterned fur. Harry took a step towards his stricken ex-Professor, but the pointed face of Blake loomed at him from behind a tree, twisted into a malicious grin.

�Cat got your tongue, scarhead? Light can never beat away the darkness! AVADA-�

Harry�s wand was swinging upwards - but Blake had stopped mid-sentence, and was simply standing immobile, his eyes wide and startled. Then his arms clapped to his sides and his legs sprung together. His expression of outraged fury froze into rigidity as his body snapped to attention - and he toppled over, like a bowling pin subject to a keen aim.

Petrificus Totalus, Harry realised. He shook himself and dashed over to the tabby, which was spitting blood onto the leaves. Anxiety gripped him as he saw the gleam of a vast volume of blood�

�It�s all right, Professor,� he murmured, scooping the cat into his arms. The animal arched its back and mewed in agony; he felt blood sluice down his arms�

�It�s over, Sir,� Higgins was saying in his ear. �They�ve all been captured. We�ve got Amycus, his nephew, Dark agitator Dent, a Slytherin student-�

�Enough!� Harry barked. �Have them held at HQ. Identification can take place later. Higgins, you sort out the wounded.� The feline in his arms gave a painful cough. He said no more and ran, hoping fervently that the night�s struggles were over.

#

The sight of Harry - his father - wearily forking spaghetti into his mouth, stopped him in his tracks. The Chief Auror had been gone for the whole morning, leaving even Ginny in ignorance. Tonks�s words came back to him: someone�s on their way to Hogwarts, probably with no good in mind.

Albus descended the stairs two at a time. Harry looked up as he approached, emerald eyes dulled with exhaustion. Ginny upstairs continued her conversation with a thoroughly bewildered Eric, failing to notice her son�s sudden exit.

�-Such a shame that you don�t know Brian as well as you should - but then I suppose nobody can help being ill for such a long-�

�Good afternoon,� said Harry, smiling weakly at his son. Ginny�s voice stopped; before Albus could respond she had half-flown down the stairs. The red-haired witch bestowed a kiss on Harry�s forehead before proceeding to scold him in tones that Molly would have been proud of to hear.

�How long have you been back? Honestly, you disappear without a word for ages and I�m left worried sick-�

Her husband silenced her with a kiss on the lips. Albus waited impatiently whilst Eric rolled his eyes and grimaced at him.

�Dad, what happened?� he demanded. Harry broke off the kiss with seeming reluctance and sighed.

�A real mess,� he groaned. �I suppose you want all the gossip, Brian?�

�What anyone hurt?� he asked. His father blinked at his abrupt manner and nodded.

�Yes indeed, I�m afraid. Higgins has lost half an ear, and I know that poor old Shacklebolt got his leg bust up. The worst by far is Professor McGonagall-�

Albus sat down. The blood left his cheeks and the room seemed to spin for a second. The kitchen dropped away, launching him into a void. His stomach muscles clenched; he felt as though an abyss had opened up suddenly before him� Minerva! Something had happened to Minerva, and he hadn�t even been-

�Brian, are you all right?�

Ginny was gazing at him worriedly as she placed a hand on his shoulder. He nodded and effected a vague grin before turning back to Harry, a leaden ball weighing his chest cavity down. With difficulty, he pushed the images of a bleeding, broken Minerva aside.

Interpreting his alarm half-correctly, his father gave him a reassuring smile. �Don�t panic - she�s alive, and the Healer�s said she�s a �tough old stick.�� His face turned serious. �But I won�t lie to you: she�s very seriously injured. She got hit by one of Snape�s old curses - and, it turns out, right on top of where she got hurt before, during the war.�

�One of� Snape�s old curses,� Albus repeated slowly. Rage bubbled in the back of his throat. Knowing that his face probably reflected it, he looked away and down at his hands, which were twisting in his lap. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax. What had happened had happened, and there was nothing beneficial in agonising over it. There was also no reason for Brian to burst a blood vessel over whatever Snape had done to Minerva, whether directly or indirectly.

�She�s been injured,� the news seemed to return to him. �Five Stunners in the chest. Won�t be out of St Mungo�s till the end of the year.�

He still remembered the awful fear that had gripped him at that revelation, the terrible realisation of a horrible possibility� Minerva, his Minerva, had been hurt due to his absence - and now the same had happened again.

�Did you catch him?� Eric asked eagerly.

Bitterness laced Harry�s words. �No. No, we didn�t. We didn�t even find him. Instead we got Amycus plus a load of greenhorn Death Eater wannabes, including a couple of very silly Slytherins who thought that getting Dark Mark tattoos and hanging around with a bunch of criminals would be cool-�

�Really? Who?�

The Chief Auror tapped his nose. �Now, now, Eric. Confidentiality laws, you know. Don�t worry, they�re getting punished for it. I�ve never seen Flitwick that angry and I�m convinced McGonagall will expel them - if necessary, from her hospital bed.�

�Well,� sniffed Eric. �Slytherins, y�know.�

Harry laughed and ruffled Eric�s hair. �Hmm, well, Slughorn�s not that bad-�

Albus blurted it out without thinking about it. Perhaps if he could just be there, just hold her hand- �Can I go and visit her?�

Eric gaped at him. Ginny raised her eyebrows and Harry adjusted his glasses, frowning. Albus let Brian bite his lip; the question had hardly been subtle, and there was little excuse for why an eleven-year-old boy who had been shouted at by the Headmistress a mere few days into the first term would even vaguely consider visiting Minerva.

�Erm.. Well� Obviously not until she�s recovered somewhat,� said Harry. �Er - then afterwards, I, um, don�t really see why not.�

�Okay,� said Albus softly. Brian�s face began to flush. �Thank you.�

There was a brief pause, before Eric asked another question and the Chief Auror launched into a blow-by-blow account of the night�s dealings. Albus listened distractedly, with his head propped on his wrist and his eyes cast downwards. He ignored Ginny�s gaze and concentrated on the vision of a green-eyed witch dancing at a Yule Ball that now only existed inside his skull.

#

Slowly, the feeling began to ebb back into her body.

Something huge and weighted was sitting on her chest, crushing her ribcage, causing the bones to pierce her lungs�

Minerva gasped. Spots danced before her eyes. Her chest was a mass of screaming nerve-endings, a centre of pain. Surely what she had just thought was correct, and her breath really had been stopped by her own bones? There could not possibly be anything else to explain the agony caused by inhaling, or the throbbing beating down her sternum.

She blinked, trying to clear the spots. The blinding white of a ceiling came briefly into view, before disappearing again behind a accumulation of purple. The ache in her chest grew worse: perhaps there was something wrong with her heart?

A groan escaped her. She heard someone get up from a chair and sensed a presence leaning over her. Hoping it was a Healer, she groaned again.

�I�ll go and get someone,� came a gruff voice and the presence withdrew.

Aberforth? she thought vaguely. A picture came to her, of the old man presenting her with a book - and maybe his emotions, also. Too much to think about right now, she decided.

She blinked more rapidly; the ceiling returned. Her view seemed to widen outwards, revealing the end of a bed and a blank rectangle of a door. She could see a grey strand of hair resting on the pillow next to her head, and realised that she needed to wash her hair�

�All right, Professor McGonagall, please lie still,� someone said authoritively. Through the pain, she felt a small pang of amused irritation - how on earth anyone expected her to do anything but lie still was beyond her. She heard a diagnostic spell being mumbled and saw a wand passing over her, igniting as it hovered over her chest.

�Albus,� she croaked. The idea of her ever moving again was inconceivable, and she wanted to say his name one last time�

�No it�s Aberforth,� growled the bedraggled shape of the old wizard from beside the bed. She heard him draw breath to say something else, but the Healer interrupted.

�Okay, Professor. Don�t worry about a thing, just relax. Now, I�m afraid you�ll be here for at least a few weeks yet - whilst everything is outwardly healed, there has been some internal damage. You remember being hit by Stunners about eleven, twelve years ago?�

��Not senile��

�Nobody was saying you were, Professor. Well, you were told at the time that there was going to be some vascular and cardiacal weakness there - and I�m afraid the curse you were hit with impacted on the same place. As a result: increased weakness.�

The crisp voice was speaking as though reading out of a textbook; Minerva wished she could be left alone. Increased weakness� What did it matter? She was an old woman, after all�

�I recommend you don�t strain yourself when you�re finally let out. Gentle exercise will be acceptable, but you should take some care not to exhaust yourself. You�re going to be fine, Professor.�

She let out another groan, in order to illustrate the contrary. She heard the door close and then a chair being dragged over to the side of the bed. Aberforth�s lined face came into view as he bent over her. There was something odd about his expression that she could not put a finger on� Was that worry? Why would Aberforth be worried about her..?

�I do not detest you.�

Minerva shifted slightly. A wave of pain travelled up her chest and she grimaced.

�Best not fidget for a while,� advised Aberforth, in the gentlest voice she had ever heard from him. He held his hands up and she saw that something purple and embossed was being held between them. �I brought this, in case you wanted it. For when you�re well enough to sit up, mind.�

�You gave me that yesterday,� she said dazedly.

Aberforth�s grizzled head shook from side to side. �You�re a bit behind. You�ve been filling this bed for over a week.� He spoke with a tone of disapproval; Minerva wondered whether it was genuine.

�Over a week,� she breathed. Term must have started, she realised. The work would be piling up.

�Flitwick�s filling your shoes,� he said, as though he had read her thoughts.

�That must be difficult,� she muttered. �I�m a size seven and he�s only a size three..�

Aberforth snorted, whether from amusement or irritation it was hard to tell. Minerva said nothing more, and the silence stretched. Beyond the door, she could hear people marching up and down the corridor, and the creaking sound of something being wheeled. She began to feel a discomfort not entirely related to her chest: how long had Aberforth been waiting for her to wake up? Had he come and sat beside her every day? No, surely that was absurd� She had simply misinterpreted something he�d said - yet why was he there? Why had he been present to see her open her eyes and groan?

�You are well?� she said at last.

�Very well, thank you.�

�Good, good. I suppose the Hog�s Head is very busy��

��Around this time of year,� finished Aberforth, his face creased into an expression of annoyance. �Busy enough, busy enough.�

Minerva felt as though she was following some sort of script. Did this ritual have to be followed every time they met? At least this time he�d had the sense not to ask her how she was� Distantly, she heard herself say:

�Albus used to go there sometimes. His favourite was the-�

�The Firewhisky, the Firewhisky,� said Aberforth impatiently. Was he getting bored of the script too? �Yes, men of his type-�

�You�re his brother,� she interrupted. �Surely you�re both the same type?�

She regretted it as soon as she finished saying it; Aberforth�s face had hardened, the blue eyes turning to ice.

�No. No, I wouldn�t say so,� he growled, bitterly. �I wouldn�t say so at all.�

She waited. The old man�s eyes had narrowed.

�He was a hero.�

He didn�t say it proudly, or reverently. He said it as though Albus had been subject to some terrible, debilitating disease. Nevertheless, she moved her head gently in a nod of agreement.

�Never could stand heroes.�

There was nothing that could be said to this, so she remained silent. Aberforth knew what she felt - why else had he given her such an extravagant, personal gift? The ache in her chest seemed to deepen into her heart. She wished she was alone, so that she could release a few hot tears.

Self-pity, Minerva McGonagall? asked part of her brain angrily. For shame!

�You�ll get better,� said Aberforth sharply, more decisively. �You�re built like Bessy.�

�Bessy?�

�One of my goats. A good, strong build - never ill for long. She�s a prize one of mine. Long legs, massive udder-�

He cut himself off. To Minerva�s vague amusement, the cheeks behind the tangled beard became rather red. Long legs and a massive udder indeed�

�Thank you,� she sighed, knowing that a comparison to a prize goat was probably a fantastic compliment from Aberforth.

�Oh. Got a little something for you.� His hands came upwards again, this time bearing a small, ornate box.

Minerva felt her body tense. Oh no. Surely it couldn�t be another expensive gift? His words flashed again into her mind. Was it possible that he really did want to, as Everard had put it, proclaim his feelings? With a jolt, she eyed the jeweller�s stamp on the box he was thrusting at her. A ring? Her heart thumped - yet the thought of Aberforth proposing was ridiculous, impossible-

Her inner vision conjured up a memory, that of Aberforth standing in her office, filled with rage. �Don�t flatter yourself, woman!�

Her fingers found the box and undid the clasp with difficulty. Nestled in the paper within was a small gold necklace. A phoenix with tiny rubies for eyes dangled from the end of it as she lifted the chain from the box. Utterly confused, she stared at it. Once again the gift was expensive, and once again the gift was symbolic of the giver�s brother. What did it all mean? She knew full well that had any other man given her a present as expensive, she would have suspected that they harboured some affection towards her, but the fact that necklace screamed Albus Dumbledore at her when it was given to her by Aberforth� Taken aback, she glanced up to see Aberforth eyeing her with a face like a cliff - but with tiny cracks, as though waiting for her approval.

�It�s lovely,� she said. �Thank you very much. But I cannot allow you to continue spending money on-�

�I shall do whatever I like with my money, thank you very much. I don�t see how it�s any of your business what I do with my Gringotts account, woman.�

With that, he got up and marched off, slamming the door behind him.

#

�Jon, stop it! We�re in enough trouble as it is!�

The Slytherin Common Room was thankfully empty for lunchtime, so there was no one else present to hear Ozzy�s whinging. Jonathan rounded on him angrily. The Fifth-Year�s muscles were tense enough with anticipation without Ozzy�s whining putting him on edge.

�Shut up!� he snapped. �Are you a Slytherin or not?�

�None of the others-�

�They�re not proper Slytherins!� he spat. �They don�t know our history properly. You shut up and do what I say. It�s your fault we got caught. If you�d just stayed where you were instead of getting in the way-�

�Jon, I do believe it all, I really do,� Ozzy moaned, running a hand through his straggly brown hair. �It�s just that my mum�s going to kill me if I�m expelled - she might kill me anyway-�

�Shut up! So what if we�re expelled? We know the truth, it�s not our fault if they�re teaching us lies! All hail stupid Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and all the rest of it. Are you forgetting everything we�ve found out?�

�No,� sniffed Ozzy defensively. �But it�s all right for you. Your family can easily ship you off to Durmstrang, mine can�t.�

Jonathan turned away, scornfully. Ozzy, as far he was concerned, wasn�t a proper Slytherin either. It was he who had educated him, and he�d been the one to first get the Dark Mark tattoo - not once, but three times, on his arm, chest and back. Ozzy was merely a follower, who just thought that getting tattoos and wearing black made him equal to him, made him a true Slytherin. No, it had been Jonathan who�d pointed out the obvious to him: who said Voldemort was wrong? The school did. Who was in charge of the school? The Order of the Phoenix. It didn�t take a genius to see that something was being kept from them.

The rest of their House didn�t realise it, though. He sniffed disdainfully. The House had grown weak in recent years, swallowing anything that idiot Slughorn said, and acting as though the war had been inglorious for them - almost as though Voldemort was something to be ashamed of. Only he and Ozzy had responded to the darkness gathering in the Forbidden Forest, and when they�d been caught the rest of the House had ostracised them. His father had educated him properly, and had kept an ear open for Amycus�s call. He had learnt to pay the old Dark the appropriate respect, and had worshipped the new shadow on the horizon, the new Dark, the Neo-Dark. He had excelled in History of Magic, drinking in the story of Severus Snape with a thirst that excited him.

How did others not see it? How could they be so blind to the fact that Severus Snape was the last great chance, the next orator of the night? Voldemort, the head of the Dark, had been severed, but his right hand remained. That night in the Forest, they had come so close�

�Yes, Mr Blaine?� The hollow voice of the Baron broke in on his thoughts.

Pointedly ignoring Ozzy, he ripped open his shirt. The Dark Mark confronted them all, confronted the truth. �You see this?�

The gaunt form of the ghost gazed at it calmly. �Yes.�

�It means I�m like you. I�m a Slytherin, not like the pathetic bunch of losers mucking up the rest of the dormitories. I�ve read his book.�

His book! He, Jonathan Blaine, had read Voldemort�s own words, written during the war. He had read the most forbidden of all books, the Dark Manifesto.

�Jon, stop,� Ozzy�s voice intruded.

Ozzy was no longer worth his attention. �You know where Severus Snape is, don�t you. I know you must; one of the Prefects told me all the ghosts can sense ex-members of their houses if they�re near the castle. I know he�s nearby.�

The stare of the ghost remained blank and impassive. �Indeed I can sense him, Mr Blaine.�

�I know you can�t lead me to him. You�re Bound not to do anything like that. But you can carry a message, correct?�

�Yes.�

�Then tell him this from Jonathan Blaine: that at least one of the faithful remains at Hogwarts. Tell him that I will follow him and do whatever he says. Tell him I�ll prove my loyalty - mention stupid little Potter Junior to him. What�s more, say that I can stir the House into rebellion in his name. It shouldn�t be too hard, they listen to anyone who shows a bit of oomph-�

�Jon!� Ozzy�s expression was one of appalled fear. �You�re not going to-�

�I don�t know how you got into Slytherin, you nitwit. You�ve got no ambition at all.�

�Jon, we could get sent to Azkaban-�

�-In the name of the Neo-Dark. Tell him that too. Go on.�

The Bloody Baron drifted away. Jonathan turned back to Ozzy with a glare, his shirt still undone and the Dark Mark still obvious. Ozzy stared at the tattoo and gulped. He had been foolish and doubting - and he knew what the punishment was for that. He knelt down and removed his shirt.

Jonathan rolled his eyes and administered the curses in a bored voice. �Crucio. Silencio.�

Ozzy�s back arched and his mouth opened in a terrible rictus, yet the Common Room remained silent.
- 12
- 13
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Him Again