"The Green Soul Of Xander McBride"
A Harry Potter Fanfic
By Brandon League
(Brnleague@aol.com)
Summary: Forty years ago, at Hogwarts, a deranged student used his special gift as an instrument of murder. Rather than be captured, he sacrificed his soul. However, just because a soul does not inhabit a body, it does not classify one as "dead." A multi-part story. I will add to it as time permits.
Legalities: Harry Potter and pals belong to that wise British goddess, J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing them for a while. However, the characters of Xander McBride and Malcolm St. John are mine, ALL MINE! Come on J.K., bring on the fifth book for Chrissakes!
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"Expelliarmus!"
The cry rang through the Great Hall like a crack of thunder. The impact of the disarming spell threw Xander McBride against the wall with brutal force, but he didn't lose consciousness. Groaning softly, Xander raised his head slowly and sneered at Malcolm St. John, the sixth year Gryffindor prefect that had cast the spell.
"You think you've won, St. John? You've won nothing!"
Malcolm lowered his wand and shook his head slowly. "I pity you, Xander," he whispered. "You've brought shame on Slytherin, and all of Hogwarts with your actions. You know they'll send you to Azkaban for this, don't you?"
Xander rose slowly to his feet, his eyes gleaming. "I did the magical world a favor. I struck a blow for witches and wizards everywhere!"
"How?" Malcolm's voice rose hysterically. "You killed thirty innocent Muggles for no reason. Only you would use your gift in such a monstrous way!"
Xander chuckled softly as he glared daggers at his Gryffindor nemesis.
"You fool," he spat. "All you damned Gryffindors are the same. You are weak, Muggle-loving cowards. I, on the other hand, am a visionary!"
"You...you...you MANIAC! How dare you call yourself a visionary? You have the gift of Parseltongue and how do you use it? You send two dozen poisonous snakes into a Muggle hospital! You killed women and children! One of your snakes...killed a two year old girl!"
"So what?" Xander McBride's mad eyes danced in the dim firelight. "She was a pathetic Muggle."
With a bellow of rage, Malcolm strode over and backhanded Xander across the face. He grabbed Xander by the cloak and pinned him to the wall. "You monster! I'll fix you!"
A voice came from behind him. "Malcolm! Leave him!"
Trembling and sweating profusely, Malcolm St. John turned around. Standing there, his hands calmly at his sides, was Albus Dumbledore. The young, intelligent Transfiguration professor was, as usual, calm and composed. The fact that one of his students had just murdered thirty people didn't seem to faze him.
"Malcolm," he said softly, "law enforcement officials are on their way. They'll deal with him."
"How can you be so calm, Professor? You know what he did. Not only that, he had the GALL to come back here! As if we wouldn't know..."
"Malcolm, he's unbalanced. Surely you can see that..."
That was as far as Dumbledore got. What happened next took Malcolm completely by surprise. From out of nowhere, Xander threw back his hand and punched Malcolm squarely in the jaw, knocking him backwards. As Malcolm went down to one knee, Xander darted across the room. Clearly his intent was to leap through a window to escape. However, as he started to run, Dumbledore pulled out his wand and pointed it at the window...
"Objectus Dispero," he cried.
Xander McBride, not paying attention, made to leap through the window...but instead cried out, as he slammed hard into solid wall, seeing as the window had disappeared. He crumpled to the floor in a heap. At that moment, the doors to the Great Hall flung open and six uniformed officers of the Ministry of Magic burst into the room. They started toward McBride, their jaws set and determined.
"It's over, Xander," Dumbledore whispered softly.
Quick as a heartbeat, Xander McBride pulled himself into a sitting position. "Is that what you think, Professor Dumbledore," he whispered, venom dripping through his words. "My dear man, it has only just begun." Xander reached into his pocket and withdrew a small crystal sphere, about the size of a Muggle baseball.
"Did you actually think I'd ever let myself be captured? I'd rather lose my soul, than be locked away in Azkaban to be a plaything for the Dementors."
Holding the sphere high in the air, Xander screamed, "I, Xander McBride of the noble House of Slytherin do hereby relinquish my soul on this night!"
"No!" Dumbledore's cry pierced through the Great Hall, but it was too late. A green light shot out of Xander's chest and into the crystal sphere. Then, the sphere fell from Xander's hand and landed with a clink on the floor. For a moment, Xander's body sat there normally as though nothing had happened. Then, a thin trickle of blood came out of his mouth, and with a light twitch, Xander's body fell backwards and after a pause, burst into flames.
"A Soul Keeper," Malcolm whispered, as he stared at the crystal orb on the floor, now glowing a bright green. He turned to Dumbledore with an open mouth. "It preserves the soul, but destroys the body. Professor, I thought they were illegal?"
"They are, Malcolm. God knows where he got it." He shook his head. This was a tragedy plain and simple. Xander McBride was one of the most magically gifted students that Hogwarts had seen in several hundred years. If only he hadn't let his irrational hatred of Muggles corrupt him. He could have been great.
Dumbledore sighed and walked over to the Soul Keeper lying on the floor. One thing was certain, this Soul Keeper could never fall into the wrong hands. It had to be locked away, where the powerful, yet malevolent spirit inside could corrupt no one. If Xander McBride ever rose again, no Muggle on Earth would be safe. He had to be contained.
He felt Malcolm's hand on his shoulder. "What now Professor," he asked timidly.
Dumbledore turned and looked at him passively. "You know Malcolm," he said quietly, "I have no idea."
TO BE CONTINUED...
A Harry Potter Fanfic
By Brandon League
(Brnleague@aol.com)
Summary: Forty years ago, at Hogwarts, a deranged student used his special gift as an instrument of murder. Rather than be captured, he sacrificed his soul. However, just because a soul does not inhabit a body, it does not classify one as "dead." A multi-part story. I will add to it as time permits.
Legalities: Harry Potter and pals belong to that wise British goddess, J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing them for a while. However, the characters of Xander McBride and Malcolm St. John are mine, ALL MINE! Come on J.K., bring on the fifth book for Chrissakes!
---------------------------------------------
"Expelliarmus!"
The cry rang through the Great Hall like a crack of thunder. The impact of the disarming spell threw Xander McBride against the wall with brutal force, but he didn't lose consciousness. Groaning softly, Xander raised his head slowly and sneered at Malcolm St. John, the sixth year Gryffindor prefect that had cast the spell.
"You think you've won, St. John? You've won nothing!"
Malcolm lowered his wand and shook his head slowly. "I pity you, Xander," he whispered. "You've brought shame on Slytherin, and all of Hogwarts with your actions. You know they'll send you to Azkaban for this, don't you?"
Xander rose slowly to his feet, his eyes gleaming. "I did the magical world a favor. I struck a blow for witches and wizards everywhere!"
"How?" Malcolm's voice rose hysterically. "You killed thirty innocent Muggles for no reason. Only you would use your gift in such a monstrous way!"
Xander chuckled softly as he glared daggers at his Gryffindor nemesis.
"You fool," he spat. "All you damned Gryffindors are the same. You are weak, Muggle-loving cowards. I, on the other hand, am a visionary!"
"You...you...you MANIAC! How dare you call yourself a visionary? You have the gift of Parseltongue and how do you use it? You send two dozen poisonous snakes into a Muggle hospital! You killed women and children! One of your snakes...killed a two year old girl!"
"So what?" Xander McBride's mad eyes danced in the dim firelight. "She was a pathetic Muggle."
With a bellow of rage, Malcolm strode over and backhanded Xander across the face. He grabbed Xander by the cloak and pinned him to the wall. "You monster! I'll fix you!"
A voice came from behind him. "Malcolm! Leave him!"
Trembling and sweating profusely, Malcolm St. John turned around. Standing there, his hands calmly at his sides, was Albus Dumbledore. The young, intelligent Transfiguration professor was, as usual, calm and composed. The fact that one of his students had just murdered thirty people didn't seem to faze him.
"Malcolm," he said softly, "law enforcement officials are on their way. They'll deal with him."
"How can you be so calm, Professor? You know what he did. Not only that, he had the GALL to come back here! As if we wouldn't know..."
"Malcolm, he's unbalanced. Surely you can see that..."
That was as far as Dumbledore got. What happened next took Malcolm completely by surprise. From out of nowhere, Xander threw back his hand and punched Malcolm squarely in the jaw, knocking him backwards. As Malcolm went down to one knee, Xander darted across the room. Clearly his intent was to leap through a window to escape. However, as he started to run, Dumbledore pulled out his wand and pointed it at the window...
"Objectus Dispero," he cried.
Xander McBride, not paying attention, made to leap through the window...but instead cried out, as he slammed hard into solid wall, seeing as the window had disappeared. He crumpled to the floor in a heap. At that moment, the doors to the Great Hall flung open and six uniformed officers of the Ministry of Magic burst into the room. They started toward McBride, their jaws set and determined.
"It's over, Xander," Dumbledore whispered softly.
Quick as a heartbeat, Xander McBride pulled himself into a sitting position. "Is that what you think, Professor Dumbledore," he whispered, venom dripping through his words. "My dear man, it has only just begun." Xander reached into his pocket and withdrew a small crystal sphere, about the size of a Muggle baseball.
"Did you actually think I'd ever let myself be captured? I'd rather lose my soul, than be locked away in Azkaban to be a plaything for the Dementors."
Holding the sphere high in the air, Xander screamed, "I, Xander McBride of the noble House of Slytherin do hereby relinquish my soul on this night!"
"No!" Dumbledore's cry pierced through the Great Hall, but it was too late. A green light shot out of Xander's chest and into the crystal sphere. Then, the sphere fell from Xander's hand and landed with a clink on the floor. For a moment, Xander's body sat there normally as though nothing had happened. Then, a thin trickle of blood came out of his mouth, and with a light twitch, Xander's body fell backwards and after a pause, burst into flames.
"A Soul Keeper," Malcolm whispered, as he stared at the crystal orb on the floor, now glowing a bright green. He turned to Dumbledore with an open mouth. "It preserves the soul, but destroys the body. Professor, I thought they were illegal?"
"They are, Malcolm. God knows where he got it." He shook his head. This was a tragedy plain and simple. Xander McBride was one of the most magically gifted students that Hogwarts had seen in several hundred years. If only he hadn't let his irrational hatred of Muggles corrupt him. He could have been great.
Dumbledore sighed and walked over to the Soul Keeper lying on the floor. One thing was certain, this Soul Keeper could never fall into the wrong hands. It had to be locked away, where the powerful, yet malevolent spirit inside could corrupt no one. If Xander McBride ever rose again, no Muggle on Earth would be safe. He had to be contained.
He felt Malcolm's hand on his shoulder. "What now Professor," he asked timidly.
Dumbledore turned and looked at him passively. "You know Malcolm," he said quietly, "I have no idea."
TO BE CONTINUED...