Disclamer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of J.K.Rowlings work, storylines, etc.
Demon's Essence
Prologue
It was early, still light out, and the banquet room was already full of bustling people, from children only eleven or twelve to those bordering adulthood. At the head of the room though, there are an assortment of middle-aged people to those that look as though they could tell you exactly how the pyramids were built. One of the latter with long... very long, straw-like white hair stands and clears his throat. After a few seconds, total silence overcomes the room. "Now that you've all been sorted into your respective houses, I would like to welcome you all back to Hogwarts. Also before we begin the banquet, I would like to introduce a new professor and give you all some details on a new class being offered starting this semester. This is professor Beriath." The grizzled old man says as he gestures to a comparatively young man. The person in question looks to be in his mid to late twenties, and has obviously seen more than his fair share of battle. His left eye is bisected by a ragged scar, the eye itself is untouched. Also, his eyes are a bright crimson, surrounded by a ring of black. They seem to glow from a light coming from within. His hair is long, black, and straight, tied back in a simple ponytail with a black leather thong. He is wearing what was once a black trench-coat, but has obviously seen better days, both of the sleeves are gone, and the edges are ragged. On his left arm he is wearing a black gauntlet, the finger portions of which end in a razor sharp claw, the back of the gauntlet has small spikes pointing towards the fingers, clearly designed for tearing. His right arm however, is chrome since it is a highly advanced prosthetic, the hand and lower arm portion look the same as the gauntlet on the opposite hand, right down to the color. The movements of the arm are quick and precise, practiced, and nigh flawless even by the standards of a trained person with a fully functional, undamaged arm. The long, loose-fitting leather pants tucked into black boots hide what is most likely a prosthetic leg, since he stood with a slight lean. Running diagonally across his back are two katanas, the hilt of which can be seen poking over each of his shoulders. He also has two additional katanas hanging behind him off of his hip. Also, there is a fifth katana resting horizontally at the small of his back. Lastly, resting at the right side of his hip is a simple chain with a weighted end, and resting at his other hip are three small crimson globules.
"Thank you, headmaster." I say as I stand. Turning to the crowd, "I am Beriath, Professor of Non-Magical Combat. NMC, as it has become commonly referred to as by the other professors."
"Thank you professor, for your... uh, rousing introduction. After the successful resurrection of Lord Voldemort..." The headmaster says, continuing unperturbed by the gasps of shock and fear at the Dark Lord's name, "...it has become readily apparent that magical defense and offense may not always be adequate."
"Bullocks!" A blond in his late-teens/early twenties shouts from Slytherin table.
"Perhaps, headmaster, we may start the demonstration early?" I ask quietly from my seat.
"Very well." He mutters back to me. "Professor Beriath and I thought that that would be the general thought on the matter. Thus we have decided to give what he assures me is a minor demonstration." He says as a Hungarian Horntail enters the room and starts an attempt at incinerating everything it sees, naturally inducing a mild panic. "SILENCE!" The headmaster shouts. "We would not bring such a creature in here without taking every precaution. That dragon is contained in a shielding charm that only professor Beriath can enter or exit." The dragon seems to punctuate this remark by blasting the shield and leaving a thin film of ash on the interior.
"This dragon will die by my hand; no magic will be used." I say, quietly, but making sure my voice carries enough so that all the students could hear as I stand. Out of the center of my prosthetic hand a four-foot long spike emanates, which I use as a cane and limp over to the dragon.
As I pass by the Slytherin table I hear the same blonde boy talking to the others in the general area, "I got twenty galleons on the dragon."
Without a word, I enter the enclosed space containing the angry dragon. It stares at me; obviously curious as to why any man would approach without fear. After a second it decides to let its blood-thirst overwhelm it's curiosity. It's head strikes at me with maw gaping. With unexpected speed and agility, I jump to the side and use my "cane" to stab it under the jaw, stapling its mouth shut. With my other hand, I dig into the neck and tear out the spine at the base of the neck. After the body collapses, the pike emanating from my prosthetic arm retracts, and the severed head drops to the ground. "Before the year is out, I will teach you what it means to stand on your two feet. To be able to fend for yourself. 'I would rather stand on my own two feet in Hell, than be on my knees in Heaven.' You will be taught to live, and to die, by these words in my class." I walk back to my chair perfectly normally. As I pass the blonde in Slytherin, "You owe me twenty, boy. I expect my money at the beginning of my first class with you."
"Well done, Professor Beriath." the headmaster says with a stale applause. The others take up the applause after a few moments hesitation, clearly not certain as to whether or not they should give applause, or mourn the dragon, even if it did come with less than charitable intentions.
/
"So Harry, Ron, Ginny, what do you think of that new professor?" A young girl at the Gryffindor table asks. She, like the Slytherin boy, is in her late teens/early twenties, as are the two... boys she is talking to. "Harry" is of average height, has dark hair and is wearing wire-framed glasses. He also has startling green eyes. The other one, "Ron", has fiery red hair and is a little taller than Harry. "Ginny" is a little shorter than the others, but it is obvious from her appearance that she is related to Ron. She has fiery red hair like Ron's, save for the fact that it is long. The girl in question is about the same height as Harry, and has long curly brown hair. Unlike, Harry, Ron, and Ginny, who are all relatively pale, she is distinctly chestnut color. Almost as though she has some Hispanic in her bloodline, but has Caucasian hair and bone structure.
"I don't know, Mione. He can't have killed that Horntail barehanded without using magic. I think he's a fraud."
"I'm inclined to agree," Harry mutters, "but if he is, then why did Dumbledore hire him? I would think that Dumbledore could see through a sham like him easily."
"Well, he's definitely not being totally honest, but there's got to be something to him.
Think about it; he can either form a very convincing illusion without anyone noticing; he can fool Dumbledore into thinking he's stronger than he really is; he really is human and is as strong as he's making himself out to be, which seems unlikely, but not impossible; he really is human and has taken performance enhancing potions, which seems to be the most likely solution, but I would have thought that the other professors would have tested for something like that; or he isn't human and he's very good at making it look like he is." Ginny puts in.
"Yeah." Harry mutters, not really focusing on the conversation. "I really don't think it matters in the long run, though. There's something off about that man." Harry mutters as he rubs his forehead.
"You okay, mate?" Ron asks.
"It's your scar, isn't it?" Hermione asks.
"Yeah... but it doesn't hurt, like it does with Vol-"
"Don't." Ginny warns.
"Right... It almost feels... warm. Almost like I've a fever coming on, but it is only affecting the scar."
"Odd." Ron mutters.
"I don't think he's human." Harry says after a moment's hesitation.
"Okay... that was eerie." Ron breaks in.
"What?" Hermione asks.
"When Harry said he thought that the new professor wasn't human, he stared right at us and started grinning like a madman."
/
"Password?" The portrait of the fat lady asks as Harry, Ron and Hermione approach.
"Sha yi jing bai." Harry replies blandly.
"Strange password... Wonder what it means." Ron says as the portrait swings outward to reveal the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.
"It means, 'Kill one to warn one hundred'."
"Professor Beriath." Hermione says quietly as the three of them turn.
"Please, just Beriath. I despise formal titles. Harry, may I speak to you for a moment?"
"Of course."
"Alone please." I say plainly as I glance to Hermione and Ron.
Ron steps forward at that, "Anything you can say to Harry, you can say can say in front of us."
"Shut up, Ron. You're going to get us into trouble." Hermione mutters as she tries to drag him toward the common room.
"No." Ron states plainly.
"Go on, Ron. I'll be fine."
"Good. Fifteen points to Gryffindor."
"WHAT?" All three of them shout.
"You each earned five house points."
"Why?" Harry inquires.
"Simple. Ron for standing up to a person of unknown power for a friend. Such loyalty is a rare thing indeed. Hermione, for her prudence. It is not as rare as such fierce loyalty, but it is more apt to keep you alive. I respect that. And finally, your loyalty to your friends, Harry. I smell it on you Harry, you are not afraid of me, but you know that I am powerful in some way shape or
form and am therefore, a threat. I could be here to kill you in a most horrible manner, yet you want your friends to leave to lower the risk to them. Don't worry though, I have no intention of harming you. I come bearing a gift." I say as I hand Harry a blackened staff. It is about four and a half feet in length and is devoid of any markings save for two parallel grooves near the top. "That Harry Potter is a Class 7ADO-DBZS."
"What?" Is the only eloquence to escape his mouth at that point.
"A Class 7ADO Demon's Bane Zatoichi Sword."
"A blade of legendary Demon's Bane?" Hermione asks doubtfully.
"None other. Unsheathe it Harry." He does so, "Good. Now, touch it to my flesh." He does so and within moments the flesh it touches blackens and blisters. A few of which pop before he pulls the blade away and blood flows freely.
"Oh my god, I'm sorry professor." Harry say as he sees the damage it has done.
"S'okay, Harry. I-" I begin as Hermione tentatively lays a finger against the blade, and nothing happens.
"You're a demon aren't you?"
"Indeed I am. How do you know of our kind?"
"Well-"
"Unimportant. More to the point, and far more relevant... What do you know of my kind? Also, what do you know about this blade? A correct answer could get you another ten points."
"As far as the blade goes... it is best known for being the only material object to harm a demon, it has been said that what would be considered a kill-blow against a human can, with that blade, also kill a demon. It also has all the standard abilities of a standard demon's blade, namely seeing and being able to interact with the 'Lines of Destruction', it has innate magical abilities... to burn, freeze, electrocute, et cetera. Strangely it is a form of magic that the ministry cannot sense."
"...And demons?"
"Demons are creatures of darkness, but..."
"But?"
"But they aren't evil. They're..." She says with a sigh, "I don't know." She finishes with a helpless shrug.
"Heh. You started off well enough. You are correct in that the demons are misunderstood. We are creatures of darkness, but we are not necessarily evil. We kill out of necessity. It is how we feed. We also feed on many other things. All of which are almost universally regarded as... evil. Death is just one form of food, then there is pain; sex; terror; blood; torture, which is a combination of pain and terror... and a little something more. There are other things of course, many of which are not polite to mention outside of demonic company. Also there are a few sub-classes of demon. There is the standard... which is little more than a beastial humanoid with ungodly physical ability and better than average intelligence. The beastial, which takes on the form of an animal and has speed, strength, and agility, but it is lacking in intelligence. The shadow demon is composed entirely of darkness and has no physical form, thus its defensive capabilities are through the roof, and it too excels in intelligence and physical ability. Then there are the hellspawn. The hellspawn are creatures thought to be truly from hell, hence the name. Needless to say, the hellspawn are the most powerful. They are by far the fastest, the strongest, the smartest, the most agile, the-"
"Yeah. We get the point." Ron says irritably.
"So, what type are you, Professor Beriath?" Harry asks.
"Just Beriath. I Harry," I say with a bow, "am a hellspawn. I am one of the most powerful. I will not mention my specific rank or real name since doing so would bring others of my kind down upon this school like the black plague. Unfortunately, most of the others are... not very careful when it comes to interaction with mortals. As such it would be best to avoid any contact with them."
"Why give me this weapon."
"Because my sources tell me that Voldemort has infused himself with a demon's blood. As a result he has the strength and abilities of the demonic."
"Whose blood?" Harry asks, seeming to sense there is something that I am not telling him.
"The blood of he who created the demonic. The founder of my species, Blaschdow, the first origin. Voldemort is quickly becoming the demon god. I must stop him."
"Why do you care?" Ron asks.
"I don't. But who do you think he will turn to once he had taken over... or destroyed all of humanity. He will become the next demon god by becoming Blaschdow. If that happens he will, by rights, be master of the demonic. At that point there can only be one possibility: War. I, as the most powerful of my kind and the original destroyer of Blaschdow, will be under one banner. Voldemort-slash-Blaschdow will be under the other. Only the remaining origins and a few of the other elders will join me. Blaschdow will have all of the other demons. As such, he will have the advantage simply from sheer numbers. I and mine will be outnumbered ten-to-one, at least."
"Beriath?"
"Yes, Hermione?"
"Why are you telling all this to us?"
"Who do you think will be Voldemort's first targets? I think that you need to be aware of what you're up against. Ah, well, I've burdened you all enough for one night. I'll see you three in class tomorrow. G'night."
/
The late afternoon sun can be seen streaming into the west-facing classroom. It is more narrow than long, but huge all the same. Perhaps 20 feet by 40. Closest to the windows is a near empty space, all that is in that space is a large, plain, semi-transparent table, currently empty. Directly opposite the windowed wall and bearing slightly to the right is a simple stone archway to a small, barely illuminated hallway leading to the entrance to the class. My desk is on the left side of the classroom, facing the windows. Then there are eight large tables between my desk and the empty space, and four stools to a table. It is four thirty, and the last of the students are just entering.
"Excellent, now that everyone is here we may begin." I say as I stand, and begin to pace the classroom, " Considering that I am granted only half an hour to a class, I feel that it would be redundant to bother with proper introductions, which I regret. Suffice to say, I am Beriath. I know who all of you are. Today, due to the time constraints, I will only be laying out the rules, and giving a miniscule lecture. Tomorrow the real fun will begin. As I said I am Beriath. I do not like formal titles. In this class you will not be taught combat, you will live it. As such I believe that one and one's opponent should be on a first name basis. It is thus, that every time I hear a 'sir', or 'professor', or 'Mr.', or 'Mrs.', or any variation thereof, out of anyone's mouth, five
house points will be lost. This applies both in and out of the class, so long as combat be involved. Next, this class will be very little in lectures, this class will be the application of practical experience. There will be blood, there will be pain, there may even be the occasional death. Also, power is for those willing to reach out and grab it, that is why once your weapons have been issued, you are free to challenge anyone at any time, within these walls. That is what the empty space behind you is for. Combat of a non-magical nature is strictly forbidden anywhere else on the premises and in Hogsmeade. Which brings me to the next two points: One; inside these walls, since the battle experience is to be real, there is no such thing as honor. As long as you are within this room, there is nothing wrong with stabbing your opponent in the back. Your enemies will not hesitate to kill you if they think they can get away with it, therefore, you MUST NOT HESITATE to STRIKE FIRST! Also, once we introduce magic into the combat process, there is no such thing as an unforgivable curse. Imperitus curse, Cruciatus curse, the killing curse... if you are strong enough to use and control them, then you are allowed to use them. Two; Your weapons will be given to you tomorrow. I will have an assortment for you to choose from. I may or may not suggest what would be best for your specs, but you are free to choose otherwise, should I decide to do so. Finally, I am a demon. One of the oldest and most powerful. If I think you are being out of line, which is hard to pull off with me, but if it happens, I will not hesitate to strike either. I'll not be playing favorites either. I would slaughter a Gryffindor as quickly as I would a Slytherin. Having mentioned that, I will not hold it against anyone to fight outside of these walls, so long as you are not caught. I am here to teach you how to survive real combat, and to eliminate the opposition. It is because of this that I do condone fighting outside these walls; combat, war, arguments, brawling, none are constrained by walls, and I am out to make your combat experience as real as is feasible. Now, are there any questions?"
"What kind of demon are you? I know of four types; the regular, beastial, shadow, and hellspawn. I also understand that when demons make their introduction they usually mention their type." This coming from a Ravenclaw with dark brown hair that hasn't seen a comb in a day or two.
"Correct. James Ruddige, yes?"
"Yeah."
"Five points to Ravenclaw. Oh, I forgot to mention, saying something or asking an intelligent question will also earn your house some points. Yes James, you are correct on all counts. I am a hellspawn demon. And since I'm sure that it'll dawn on you at some point in the near future; no, Beriath is not my real name. You should all know that the times will grow progressively more dark and dangerous since Voldemort resurrected. What you were not told, however is the means by which he did it. I won't go into detail, but he is now one quarter human, one quarter undead, and fifty percent demon. He is powerful, even by demon standards. As such, his power will draw out more of the demonic. Saying my real name aloud will bring them here in droves. If you are lucky, you'll never learn who I truly am."
"Why would that make us lucky?" Harry asks.
"Because by using an alias and abandoning my real name, my power has dropped dramatically. I will take on my real name again when I am forced to use more than forty percent of my power. Also take into consideration that that is enough power to destroy this entire universe. Put simply, if I must take on my true name again, the shit has, most definitely, hit the fan. Anything else?"
"What kinds of things are demons weak to?" Ron asks.
"Twenty points to Gryffindor. That, Ron, is one of the most vital questions to ask.
Knowing an enemy's weakness can turn the tide in any battle. As a matter of fact, there is a demon hunter, one Kain, who started off as a simple muggle human. He is the reason why demons are one the brink of extinction. And he did it simply by knowing our weaknesses. The weakness of the standard demon is bright lights, loud noises, other... predators. Namely beings of greater power... so other demons in general. Beastial demons are weak to pretty much the same. Shadow demons are weak to light, and the hellspawn weaknesses vary. You see, in the case of the demonic, our weakness is what we fear. Since the hellspawn have human intelligence, and greater, we have human fears. Unfortunately for others, since we do have human intelligence, we are able to confront and overcome those fears. Many of the older hellspawns have no weaknesses to exploit."
"As I understand it, demons can track one another by their power emissions. As long as you have met the demon before. You've already told us that you killed this... Blaschdow, before, so why can you not find him and kill him? From what you've already told us, You-Know-Who is not up to full power yet, so why don't you eliminate the threat while you easily can?"
With a sigh, "Y'know, were it not for the fact that I am unwilling to mention my real name for pretty much the same reasons, I would take a few points off for referring to Voldemort as You-Know-Who. Let me make one thing clear, Voldemort is not powerful enough for saying his name to have any effect, at least at this point. As to the why, someone more powerful than him is masking his presence. Also, there is a prophecy concerning Voldemort. It basically states that the only person capable of truly killing Voldemort is Harry Potter. Which is why I gave you that sword, Harry, and it is also the reason this class was formed in the first place."
"Prophecy? What prophecy?" Harry asks.
"I really shouldn't tell you..."
"But?"
"But I believe in being honest. The prophecy basically states that in order for you to truly kill Voldemort, you must die as well."
"YES!" Malfoy shouts with honest glee.
"Hmph! You are not in a place to talk, Malfoy. Potter has been responsible for winning Gryffindor the house cup on at least one occasion. He has faced a Basilisk, and won. He has exposed the true identity of Voldemort, he has faced Voldemort on at least four occasions and live to tell about it. He has won the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and so on. What noteworthy things have you done?"
"I killed a demon."
"Oh? Is that so? I find that hard to believe. Who?"
"You." He says as he stands and draws his wand.
"HA! You? A mere mortal? Kill me? Impossible! However, if you still wish to try, be my guest."
"Stup-"
"Itami no Eien." I say quietly as I disappear in a torrent of green flame and reappear in the same fashion just behind Draco Malfoy and jab a long thin needle into his spine at the base of the skull. He disappears in black flames but his screams of agony linger on. "While this class is based on non-magical combat, I will be teaching you to integrate magic into it. That was basically the Japanese version of the cruciatus curse on steroids, with the needle acting as a medium. When using a weapon as a medium the effect of the spell is magnified ten-fold, minimum. Also weaved into the needle is a transport to the hospital wing. Finally, Neville, I apologize that you had to see that... I know that you are particularly sensitive to suffering of that
nature."
"Any more questions... or unnecessary comments? Please do not hesitate to ask any questions. Worst case scenario, nothing'll happen. Now, any questions?" After a few second pause, "Well, alright, if that be the case, class dismissed." As the students begin to stand and walk out, "Oh, and don't forget to try and pick a weapon you would like to work with, you'll be getting them tomorrow."
/
Three solid knocks on the door that lead to the short hallway going to my classroom is all that precedes and angry potions master from storming into the room. I am at the back of the room arranging weapons on a no longer transparent table.
"HOW DARE YOU ATTACK ONE OF MY STUDENTS IN SUCH A FASHION!" He yells as stops about ten feet from me, wand already out.
"Good to see you, too, professor." I begin sarcastically, "You forget, Snape, Draco is one of my students as well. As such, I will... educate him as I see fit."
"Well see about that. Dumbledore knows what you've done and wants to speak with you... now. Lucius will also undoubtedly be there. If Dumbledore doesn't outright sack you, I'm sure Lucius will see to it that it happens."
"And?"
"And!? You could end up in Azkaban for what you did! And you're unworried?"
"Of course not. Azkaban was made to hold wizards and witches. Dementors feed on the souls of the prisoners. I am not a witch or wizard, nor do I have a soul for the Dementors to feed on. Besides, I can level this school with minimal effort, just as I could do the same to Azkaban. They'll not sack me for fear of what I might do in retaliation. And as for you... why do have your wand out? Do you wish to challenge me? Or are you afraid that I might kill the messenger. If you wish to challenge me, say the words so we may begin. If you do not, put up your wand, approaching a demon with weapon drawn is almost multi-versally taken as a direct challenge. By rights, I should have taken off your head the moment you set foot within this room."
Putting up the wand, "Dumbledore's office, now."
"Better. You'd best stop stressing, Snape. You'll have a stroke if you don't learn to relax." I say quietly as I leave the room.
/
As Snape had predicted, Lucius was, in fact awaiting my arrival, along with Dumbledore. "Dumbledore... Luscious." I say in acknowledgement as I enter the office.
"Luscious?" the elder Malfoy asks, turning red in the face.
"Ah, Master Beriath, thank you for coming."
"Can the formalities, Dumbledore. I am very busy. What do you want?"
"I understand you saw fit to punish Mr. Malfoy's son."
"I did."
"Why?"
"Because he had a big ego. I thought it in his best interest to beat out the excess. Also, he challenged me."
"But to such an extreme?"
"What I did to him was relatively minor."
"MINOR?!" Lucius shouts, "You broke his fucking mind!"
"Yes, minor. As a Deatheater, I am sure that you are familiar with the effects of the Crucaitus curse. You should be grateful that his mind broke. The pain caused by Itami no Eien is ten times worse than that of the Cruciatus curse. Then there is the fact that I used a needle as a medium for delivering the spell, thus the pain was magnified an additional ten-fold. His mind, it will heal itself, in time."
"You-injured-my-SON! AND-"
"And I hope Madame Pomfrey doesn't heal him too quickly. Believe me, a hefty dose of reality will do your boy a lot of good. You sound like you could use a nice dose of Beriath brand reality yourself."
"Clam yourself, Beriath." Dumbledore begins quietly, "Now, I'm sure some punishment was in order. However, what you did was far too extreme to go unpunished."
"Hmph. Y'know, it's funny. 'Punishment' implies authority over the one being punished. More importantly, in order to have true authority, one must be more powerful than those you have 'authority' over. You get my point?"
"I get your point. You are still to be replaced."
"Not going to happen, I'm afraid."
"I beg your pardon?"
"You will never find a weapons master as qualified as I am. You may select a few potential replacements. I will challenge them. One on one. If they are weak they will be killed. The strong will be exiled. Those that are actually a challenge will be kept on as assistants."
With a sigh, "Fine... will you at least swear to me that you'll never again take punishment to such an extreme?"
"I swear... as long as the person in question doesn't deserve it."
"I suppose that that's the best I can expect from you."
"Indeed."
"THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE!!"
"You wish to challenge me, then?"
"No... Shame me as it does to say it, but I'd not win."
"Wise of you. As a demon, it is my right to kill any who challenge me... like your son, and I can assure you that if you survived, it would not be out of mercy or kindness on my part. Now, if you will excuse me, I have work that must be done before my next class." I say quietly as I turn and leave.
"Well?" Lucius asks, turning to Dumbledore.
"Well what, Lucius?" Is the only response.
"What are you going to do about him."
"What do you expect me to do? I have done everything I am able to do, within my power. He is far too powerful to be trifled with. Also, he spoke only the truth. Draco's punishment, severe as it was, could have been far worse."
"Then why did you hire him? A person so powerful that even you cannot control him. You didn't even bother trying discipline him. How could anyone who trusts in muggle methods of combat be powerful? So powerful that even you must bow to him."
"If you consider him so weak, then why did you not accept his challenge?"
"Because I have heard that he is a demon, even he referred to himself as one. If he is powerful enough for even you to fear, then it must be true."
"Then why doubt at all?"
"Because he does not use magic."
Not using magic is very different from not being able to, Lucius. A voice says, seeming to emanate from the very walls.
"As to why I hired him," Dumbledore continues, "Two reasons: One; Only two persons were able to meet the criteria of the job, and of the two he was the better. Two; I owe him my life."
"That's not reason enough to let this travesty go unpunished."
"It isn't?" Dumbledore asks owlishly, "If you wish to take some action on your own, by all means, do so. However, the school will not be held responsible for your actions... and more importantly, his. Your son will survive, uncomfortably for a while albeit, but he will recover. Beriath is not one to take challenges lightly. Not only would he humiliate and then kill you... he'd probably then resurrect you, stripping you of any and all magical ability, making you live out the rest of your life as one of the muggles you so despise. For your own sake, leave him alone."