Harry Potter and the Eye of the Dark Lord
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all things linked with it belong to J.K. Rowling. Plot, and Professor Quinton, are my own original ideas, and it would be appreciated if you didn't take them.
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CHAPTER ONE: The Unwanted
*
Dumbledore sat in his comfortable chair behind his desk in his office. The many portraits of past headmasters all slept, heads upon their chests, as Dumbledore sat, staring at the door. A snake was curled up on the papers before him, its scales shiny black and its eyes a piercing green. A thin white line wound like a chain about its neck. Dumbledore was not alone, for the Potions Master Professor Snape sat in a chair at the other side of the room, his head bowed slightly, and his eyes narrowed as he stared at the floor in thought. A tabby-cat, thin lines of fur like glasses around its eyes, sat by the door, flicking its tail.
"When he comes, you should try acting like an actual cat, Professor." Dumbledore said quietly, a slight twinkle in his eye. The cat flicked its tail again, but did not move.
The snake, it's black coils glinting in the firelight, left its place at the table and slithered its way to the shelf. Immediately, it wrapped itself around the Sorting Hat - much to the hat's dismay. Snape sat scowling in silence, and Dumbledore popped a candy into his mouth as they all waited for the door to open. They were all rewarded after a few minutes, when the cat moved from its position by the door to allow a huge burly man through. He was the size of a giant, with a big puffy beard and small black eyes.
"He's 'ere, sir." He said, his accent thick as it rolled off his tongue. "'E's outside."
"Let him in, Hagrid." Dumbledore said softly.
Hagrid nodded, and within two minutes the man was brought in. He was middle-aged, his hair receding from his forehead, and his hands and face pudgy as if swollen. His eyes were small and black like a pig's, and he writhed his hands nervously. The Auror's badge on his cloak was shiny and new.
"Professor Dumbledore." His voice was stuffy - an office voice.
"Mister Lassan, how may I help you?"
Lassan opened his mouth to speak, looked at Snape, and shut it.
"What's he doing here?" He asked abruptly. Snape, his hands now clasped beneath his chin, did not move.
"Professor Snape is here with my permission, Mister Lassan. Anything you have to say -"
"Is strictly confidential." Lassan interrupted.
Snape lifted his eyes a little, cold and black with a hint of a glare behind them. Dumbledore sighed deeply.
"Professor, if you would, please."
Snape gave a curt nod to the headmaster, a scowl to the Auror, and left the room.
"Professor Dumbledore, you must understand that this under the strictest confidentiality." Lassan said, peering suspiciously about the room. He spotted the cat as it flicked its tail again. He glared at it. "The strictest."
The cat rubbed itself against a table leg, and slipped through the partially open door. Lassan did not notice the snake, which was now gliding silently to the floor.
"You may continue, Mr. Lassan." Dumbledore encouraged.
"Fudge sent me." The pudgy little man said bluntly, "He thinks you're getting too involved."
"I, Mister Lassan, may be getting just involved enough." Dumbledore said quietly.
"You silly old fool!" Lassan exploded, "You shouldn't have told anybody! Now the whole wizarding world is in a panic!!"
The snake slid across the room.
"At least they are prepared, now." Dumbledore replied. His voice was calm.
"Prepared? Prepared?? No one is prepared! They're leaving the country in droves Dumbledore!"
"There are enough that stay." His eyes were on the snake by Lassan's feet.
"Dumbledore, if you do not stop your meddling, then by god I will."
His hand went to his pocket.
/Traitor!/ The snake screamed in Parseltounge, but none in the room understood it. It was then that it struck. Its fangs sank deep into Lassan's fleshy leg, and he let out a cry, gripping his wand.
Dumbledore was on his feet, but Lassan had already acted.
"Petrificus Totalus!" he cried, and the snake fell petrified to the floor. He turned to Dumbledore.
"Adava Kedavra!"
*
Harry awoke with a start. He didn't know if he had yelled aloud or not, but he had a feeling that he had. He moaned as he raised a hand to his forehead, the lightning-bolt scar burning furiously. It took a few minutes for the pain to ebb away, but it left Harry with a feeling of sickness and dread.
The details of the dream were drifting away from him, but he could still see that flash of green and hear that harsh snake voice: /Traitor!/
Was it real? Had someone attacked Dumbledore?
Harry felt sick, and he shut his eyes tight to chase away the feeling, when a new thought came to him.
It was his birthday.
With an oddly dim thought, Harry realized that he was 15. 15, and not a birthday penny to show for it. He sighed, and lay back in his sweat-chilled bed. It was light outside, but Aunt Petunia seemed to have forgotten to wake him.
He slowly stood up and dressed himself. Half way through pulling on his shirt, he was stopped by a shriek that erupted from downstairs.
"Vernon! Vernon! Kill it! Kill it!"
Harry frowned. Kill it?
This was followed by more shouting, and more screeching, and finally Harry made his way downstairs.
The front door was wide open, and all three of the Dursley's were on the lawn. Uncle Vernon was whacking the ground with a shovel, seemingly randomly, with a screaming Aunt Petunia behind him. Dudley, a little ways off, was white as a sheet as he watched his scarlet-coloured father work. A flash of black was all Harry could see as he ran forward.
/Get away from me!/ The voice was desperate, but vicious all the same, but the Dursley's didn't heed it.
"Stop!" Harry cried, tripping as he ran, "Stop it!"
He saw it then, black lightning as it dodged Vernon's shovel, swearing at him in Parseltounge.
"Stop!" Harry cried again, and caught the snake by the tail, hefting it into the air before Vernon smashed it's head in. The snake immediately curled around Harry's neck, hissing and spitting at Vernon.
"Put the thing down, boy." Uncle Vernon said dangerously, his knuckles going white where he gripped the spade.
"No! You'll kill it!"
"Put it down!"
"No!"
/I should have bitten him…/ The snake hissed.
"It's just Uncle Vernon, his hide's too tough to bite through anyway." Harry replied. Vernon's face lost its scarlet plumage very suddenly, and he gaped much like a fish. Dudley's eyes were wide.
"You can talk to snakes!" He cried. Aunt Petunia promptly fainted.
Harry decided that this would probably be the best time to disappear, so he bolted back to the house and locked himself in his room.
The snake, sensing safety, slid down from Harry's neck to the floor.
/Nice place…/ It said, looking around.
"You were the snake in my dream, weren't you?"
/Dreamsss?/ The snake asked.
"Oh. I guess snakes don't… But I saw you!"
/I have dreams… though snakes do not./
"Sorry? Are you not - - - Are you not a snake?"
/I am currently, but normally I'm a Professor./ It's green eyes seemed to twinkle at Harry.
Harry blinked in return.
"Then you're an animagus?"
/Yesss… I would change back, but your uncle…/
"I understand. You're a Professor? A Hogwarts Professor?"
/Yesss… Professor Quinton, at your service./ The snake bowed its head slightly, which Harry thought looked extremely peculiar.
"Oh, right. Harry Potter."
/I knew that, or I wouldn't have come./
"But… If you're a Professor… Then you must be the one from my dream!"
/What dream, Harry?/
Harry told all of what he could remember, and when he finished, Quinton's eyes were dark.
/You saw all this?/
"Yes…"
/Then I am sorry to say it is all true./
Harry's heart dropped into his stomach.
"Then Dumbledore' s dead?" His voice cracked midway through the sentence.
/Hogwarts magic is old, Harry, and protection in that room is heavy… He is not dead, but his soul has left his body. He might not come back./
Harry sat down hard with a thump.
"Who…? Who would…?"
/We don't know, but you can't stay here. It's not safe anymore./
"But where is safe?"
/Nowhere, but we can't keep you here./
"What do you mean? Where would I go? I thought this was safe! I thought it was protected…"
/It was, and the man who was protecting it is no longer able to. So you are to come with me. You are still needed, Harry, so we have to keep you safe./
"Where are we going?"
/The only place we can go. I'll have to turn back now… Keep your voice down, we must leave with as little commotion as possible./
Harry nodded, and the snake began to grow and transform before his eyes – scales to skin, sides to arms.
The human before him gave him quite a shock. Where he had expected a man, he was faced by a pale woman. She was tall and lanky, with shoulder bones like sharp corners of her figure. Her skin was pale, with a blue tint instead of pink, and there were dark bags under her eyes. Her hair was straight and black, falling almost to her shoulders but not quite. She was clothed entirely in black, with only the tips of her pale fingers visible in the mass of dark fabric. She looked cold, and sad, save her eyes. Her emerald eyes that sparkled with a twinkle reminiscing of Dumbledore' s own. She wasn't smiling, but wore a small, sad frown that told of many horrors unseen.
"Trunk." She said, unmoving and quiet, as if she was stone. Harry nodded, and dragged his trunk out of his closest, doing a quick check to make sure it was packed. It was.
"Intrasarium." Quinton whispered, with a flick of her wand. The trunk shrunk to pocketsize.
"I'm afraid," She said quietly, "I only have one invisibility potion, and I don't have a cloak…"
"I have one, Professor." He said quickly.
Quinton looked at him, not out of surprise, but something else that he couldn't quite place. She nodded.
"Yes, I thought you might."
Harry extracted the pocket-sized cloak from the pocket-sized trunk, and handed it to Quinton.
"Extrasarium." She said, flicking her wand again, and the cloak grew back to full size.
"Put it on, and get your broomstick. You'll have to let your owl go so that I can shrink her cage. She can go to Hogwarts."
Harry nodded, and walked over to Hedwig. "Go to Hogwarts," he said as he opened the cage door, "You'll be safe there."
Hedwig hopped out of the cage, nipped Harry's ear sympathetically, and flew out the open window. Harry grabbed his broomstick, and threw his cloak over his shoulders. With a small push, Quinton opened the window and said softly, "Accio, Drangonwing." A broomstick floated into her hand. She looked at Harry, and took a flask from her pocket.
"Once I drink this," She said, shaking the bottle a little, "I will be invisible to you, but I shall leave a trail of faint red sparks for you to follow. If you need to stop, say so. Do you understand?"
Harry nodded, before he realized that he was invisible.
"Yes." He said instead.
"Very well." Quinton pushed a small black button on her broomstick, and it disappeared from Harry's sight. Her broom safely invisible, she took the stopper from the vial, and poured the shimmering silver potion down her throat. She began to fade, and after a few seconds, was completely invisible.
Out of nowhere, there was a faintly glowing red spark where the Professor had once stood, and then another appeared less than half a foot away.
Harry clambered onto his broom, and kicked off the floor, passing the red sparks as he did so. Each time he passed one, it turned green and disappeared, presumably to make sure he didn't fall behind.
It was his birthday, Dumbledore was gone, and Harry was leaving everything behind.
*
The Next Chapter to Come: 'The Snake's Wings'