Chapter 1

Soul Aui Mcfly

Soul Aui McFly appeared to be another old stranger. He lived alone, in an abandoned hut on the edge of the forest. He was not keen on the company of other folk. He was rarely seen in the town of Smallmary that was infamous for its name. His appearance was just as strange as his name. He was astonishing the villagers vividly multiple times and became a topic of all taunts and malicious nicknames amongst the teens.

Old man's face was stretched out, thus covered in many wrinkles. His cheeks were sinking into his skull, as a sign he was not eating very well. Long, grey beard was falling onto his chest. He had a habit of plaiting his hair. His thinly growing hair was shining bald in some parts. He was dressed in flimsy, dirty robe, which greatly resembled a female nightgown. He didn't care about cleanness and hygiene. He gave the impression of miserable, aged man, who had gone mad many years before. Couple of youths tended to creep into the surrounding forest in order to hurl his house with stones for entertainment. Some people were brave enough to accost the helpless, old man, who responded with vicious anger attacks.

Shed in which Soul was living was actually a remnant of a fisher's warehouse. Deserted half of century ago, it was gravely at the edge of collapsing. Roof was covered in moss, thick layer of soil and was crashing to the inside, threatening to break down at any moment. All of the window panes were broken. Doors, which were made of couple of rotten planks stuck together, were creaking along with the wind , tearing the deathly silence apart. In the inside of the hut, there was no hearth or fireplace. By one of the walls, there was an old, ruined bed, covered in white paint that was scaling off in broken streaks of once pearly white color. On the parallel wall, there was a dusty painting hanged, a portrait of a woman with long, blond hair. She was dressed in a black cloak and diamond jewellery, looking down with contempt in her eyes onto the obscure vestibule. Under the painting, there was a small table made from sloppily cut pieces of wood.

Soul spent many hours sitting on the bed, staring at dusty portrait. His heart was full of regret, pity and despair. While reminiscing his past, he thought of mistakes he had made, relatives he lost, shedding tears many times. That's how it was on another seemingly ordinary October night, right before someone decided to disturb his privacy once more.

It was a cold night. Strong wind was blowing, rushing bald limbs of the trees chaotically. It was raining hard, with freezing drops of water smashing against golden leaves on the rooftop of the hut as well as the clearing, changing them into one, huge, wet slush of mud. It was raining continuously for days. It seemed that no one would want to venture into such area in this weather. Haunting blows of the wind were disturbed by a sudden crash. In split second, three hooded people appeared in the darkness, dressed in black robes, feverishly looking around the clearing. The tallest stranger was holding a wooden stick couple of inches long. It shone with a light flame, illuminating the whole of the clearing. Assured that no one else is around, newcomers moved onto the hut situated at the brink of dark, gloomy meadow.

'Are you sure we'll find him here?' – female, silky voice of the smallest, petite stranger spoke.

'Of course' – hissed the second of strangers, with deep and irritated voice. ' He had to hide after betraying all of his friends. He was ready to do anything, just to avoid Azkaban'.

'Rowle, but don't you think that he would find a more suitable hiding place?' – said woman, laughing, thinking the man was ridiculing her. 'And Muggles say strange things about him, they say he is insane.'

'Are you suprised, Rosanne ?' – the third, tallest stranger spoke. 'Our old friend landed in Azkaban quite a few times. And I think you should know how Dementors can affect people. His wife just couldn't take it. After her death, he was unable to recover.

'Excatly' – added Rowle. ' When he became totally crazy, his son arranged his movement to St Mungo's. Somehow, he escaped, and no one was willing to look for him afterwards.'

'Wizengamot stated that he isn't a threat anymore' – interfered the second man.

' So he won't be able to help us' – declared woman, looking around the clearing nervously. She seemed to hear footsteps echoing across the shadowy clearing.

'All we need is a couple of his memories' – said the tall man. ' I do not care about his mentality, it shall not make any difference,'

The other two looked nervously at each other.

'Oxidus' – Rosanne started anxiously. ' We were thinking about it. How can memory of a Death Eater help us?'

'He wasn't even close to the Dark Lord.' – said Rowle. ' He was nobody.'

Man named Oxidus suddenly stopped. He turned around and looked at his companions with annoyance. They both appeared to look quite frightened.

'You know that the details of the plan are only available to the common knowledge of the Council.' – He emphasized on the last word. 'And it is going to remain that way. If you will be thinking too much, you might end up as werewolves' lunch.'

Oxidus moved on, causing the other two to nervously follow. After a while, they arrived at the doorstep. There was a small lit candle next to the window. Next to it was an old man, sobbing desperately.

'It seems like the householder is here' – whispered Oxidus, smashing the doors open with a spell.

All three entered the hut, taking their hoods off. Horrified McFly curled up in the corner of the small room.

'Good Evening' – said Oxidus with fake politeness.

'Thorfinn... Throfinn... .' – mumbled the old man, looking at Rowle with horror.

In the light of candle, a mean smile at broad-shouldered man's face was visible. From beneath the thick blond mop of hair, brown eyes were flashing menacingly.

'You recognised me, old friend!' – shouted Rowle, with jeer in his voice. 'I must admit, I couldn't recognize you. Ageing Spell, was it?'

'Wha... What you want?.. My dear... My love...They broke into my house – Old man was speaking more to himself than to the strangers.

'We require some of your memories' - declared Oxidus objectively. 'I assume this will go the easy way.'

'You are not going to get anything! Get out of here, you filthy Mudbloods!' – Old man started screaming, rapidly rising up from the dirty floor. ' Get out of here! My love... My dear... I won't...'

He stopped, withering with pain. Cruciatus Curse was thrusting his weak body. Every muscle, every joint, every bone, every nerve – it was all in excruciating pain. Rowle was laughing, as in some sort of trance. Rosanne was standing in the corner, looking at Soul with deep disgust.

'Enough!' – screamed Oxidus suddenly, and Rowle stopped the tortures immediately. ' I assumed that your ambitions stand higher than torturing old men.'

'I just wanted to mobilize him to cooperate' – answered outraged Rowle.

'That wasn't necessary' – said Oxidus, rebuking Rowle.

He looked at him with pity. 'Unfortunately, your old friend has no valuable memory. Nothing we didn't know about.'

Rosanne and Rowle looked at him with surprise. Soul attempted to get up and sit on the bed. His rib cage was ascending extremely rapidly. All of his limbs were exhausted, and he was unable to move.

'I explored all of his deepest, most important memories' –said Oxidus to his companions, and upon seeing their astonished faces, he said, as if explaining something complicated to a small child. 'If you forgot, I am the Master of Legillimence. Mind of this old man here has no secrets to me. There is nothing worth attention there either.'

Soul held on to edge of the bed, hissing with pain.

'All of it, for nothing? – asked resigned Rosanne.

Oxidus looked angry. He seemed to be calm, but in his grey eyes, there was an agitated flash present.

'Not exactly' – he answered after a moment of silence, only disturbed by the old man's hisses of pain. ' I am finally certain. I know that the thing we need... Albus Dumbledore has it.'

'But he is dead for a long time!' – answered suprised Rowle. ' I saw it with my own eyes! He fell off the Astronomy Tower! '

Even though Rosanne was just as suprised as Rowle was, Oxidus remained silent.

'It is time to end our little visit' – he said, ignoring his companions who were hungry for explanations. He coldly looked into the old man's eyes. There were so different than his.

'Good bye, my dear fellow.'

There was a green flash of light, smashing Soul in the chest. He involuntarily fell onto the floor, taking his last breath. His eyes turned empty and expressionless.

'It was nice seeing you again, Lucius' – laughed Rowle.

'Do not forget about our sign' – reminded Rosanne.

Oxidus pointed his wand at rotten remains of the hut's doors. A big, burnt symbol appeared on them. Strangers put up their hoods again, there was a triple crack, after which they vanished into the thin air.