The sky was dark and heavily clouded. A light drizzle of rain fell, ignored by the figure standing in the shadows. The figure puffed at a cigarette, bored with the wait. Tonight was not the night to act so there was no anticipation. Being a hunter was no fun at times of waiting such as this. Everything was calculated to the minutest detail. Error was a foreign concept. The perfect predator stalked and moved in only at the precise opportune moment. During the wait, the figure recalled acquiring the job.
A
man had approached three days prior. He had stood tall and thin. His
face had been hidden and his voice disguised. "I had heard you are one
of the best."
Hidden in the shadow, the man could not see who he was speaking to. "I am."
"You will work for anyone?"
"At the right price."
"I was not expecting a woman."
"Gender does not get the job done."
"True enough. Your price?"
"Depends upon my prey."
The man handed over a photograph. "He's at the school."
She had no doubts what school he meant. "That will cost extra." She wrote a price on her hand and held it out.
The man looked at the price. "It is steep."
"You want it done?"
"Of course."
"Then, the price is fair."
"Very well. The time frame is by the holidays."
"Done."
He heard nothing but felt her move passed him and seem to disappear.
Halloween was upon her, and she had not completed the job. She had less than two months remaining. Everything was set, but the moment had yet to come.
------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- -------
Ron just scowled at Hermione. "She's weird!" He was not going to drop it.
"And Professor O'Brien isn't?" She shot back in frustration.
Harry shook his head. The two had been having the same debate since the
first day of the year. Professor Gweneth O'Brien had taken over
Trewlany's classes. The other woman had an emergency in the family and
was unable to return to her duties. Hermione thought O'Brien was more
weird than the Trewlany had been. Ron was of a different opinion. He
like Professor O'Brien. In the reverse, Ron found the new Gryffindor
sixth year Morticia Tepes more than weird. He thought she was down
right frightening, demented. He felt her name was enough to prove that.
Harry still didn't get that. Hermione liked her. The two had become
fast friends. So, Ron and Hermione had been arguing and arguing for two
months.
"I like them both," Harry informed them. "And, this argument is beyond old."
About that time, Morticia walked over to them. "Have you finished the
assignment due in potions today?" She asked all of them.
Ron paled. "We have an assignment due?" Harry likewise looked stricken.
"Yes. The comparison and contrastive of a simple sleeping drought to any coma inducing serum," Hermione answered.
"I've had it done for over a week." Morticia sat down. Breakfast was
drawing to an end, but they still had a few minutes. "You two really
need to focus more on your studies. I suppose you don't have the oral
report for Muggle Studies done either?"
Ron shook his head but Harry
nodded. Hermione shook her head. "Never happen," she said referring to
them focusing on their studies. She had been trying for years and had
yet to get results.
"Well, Professor Snape's not going to be happy with you." Morticia looked at them pointedly.
"When's he ever?" Harry argued. She shrugged. "Well, too late to do
anything about it. Nearly time for class." She stood and bumped into
Pansy Parkinson as she did.
"Watch where you're going, Urchin."
"Urchin? You hardly have room to talk. I saw you just the other day, with Hagrid's dog having a good old time."
Pansy became a dark purple color. "How dare you!" Pansy balled her fist but made no move to strike.
"You're right, that was rude to say of Fang. He has better taste."
Morticia pushed by Pansy, who grabbed her arm. "Let go of me," she
warned in a low growl. Her eyes became hpyerdilated and overly
bloodshot as they gazed at Pansy, who immediately let go and backed
off. "Good little trollop." Pansy stuck her nose in the air and marched
away.
"What just happened?" Ron asked. "What did you do to her?"
"What do you care?" Morticia looked at Ron with a raised brow, eyes back to normal.
"Had to be something to get her to back down like that?" Ron accused.
"What does it matter? She's gone." Harry started from the room. Ron
scowled a moment more then followed, as did the two girls.
------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- -------
Potions
was Morticia's favorite class. Snape started class by handing back the
results of a potion they had done the week before. He handed hers back
last. "You had intriguing results." He gazed at her coolly with a
raised brow. "Might I ask what you used in place of the vampire's
blood?"
She looked back as coolly. "I did use vampire blood, Sir."
His brow went higher. "Where did you acquire the blood?"
"I am afraid that is a private matter."
"Private matter? Not when you are in my class, Miss Tepes." Snape
glared at her. He liked her results in every potion she did, but he
would not stand for her attitude and lack of cooperation. "You will
tell me."
"Then I will do so in private after class." She gazed back unaffected by his glare.
"Very well. You best have a good explanation."
"Oh, I say I do." She smirked as she handed over her assignment. "I believe this is due today."
Snape took the parchment and nodded. "The rest of you may place yours
on my desk as you leave at the end of class." Some of them groaned but
he ignored them and class continued.
At the end of class, Morticia
waited until everyone else was gone before standing and going to
Snape's desk. She just looked at him. Then, she wrote down one word on
her hand and showed him. He eyed her but nodded. She nodded back and
turned to leave. Severus watched her go, intrigued by her answer. He
had suspected but to have it confirmed...
------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- -------
The Gryffindor sixth years made their way to Muggle Studies. Most of
them were all ready to sleep. They hated the class, found it very
boring. Perhaps not as boring as History of Magic, but boring
nonetheless. Normally, Morticia felt the same, but today they were
starting their oral reports. She was had trepidations to give hers, for
most of the students knew about her famous grandfather already. Those
that did not, were likely to join the others in their rash opinions of
her, and her family.
The first to give their report was Hermione,
and even Morticia, as nervous as she was, started to nod off. Hermione
seemed to drawl on and on until the teacher asked her to speed things
along. With a very terse expression, the other girl had done so. Next
went Harry, who looked pale having to stand in front of so many people
and talk about his family. As much light that shown on him, he still
hated to be in front of people. Next was Millicent Bludstrum. She made
quick work of stating none of her family was sleazy enough to become
noticed by muggles and sat back down.
Finally, it was Morticia's turn.
Morticia oh so slowly stood and moved to the head of the classroom. She
was not looking forward to speaking at all. Many of the students
started whispering amongst themselves, and Ron wore an extra pensive
look compared to his normal way of looking at her. She stopped at the
head of the room and took a deep breath. "I don't really see the need
for me to talk about the most prominent member of my family that graces
muggle texts. He's seen in history, legend, myth, horror, fiction, and
so much more. Nearly every soul knows some form of his name, be they
muggle or pureblood." She took another breath. "My grandfather was a
proud, noble man. He was born at the end of 1431 in the fortress of
Sighisoara, Romania to his father Vlad. Vlad Dracul was the military
governor of Transylvania under the emperor Sigismund. He was appointed
the job about a year after being inducted into the Order of the Dragon,
thus his name Dracul."
She took another breath, knowing this was
going to take some time but get her a good grade. Unlike Mione's, her
story was interesting, as most things with death and war were. "He
later became prince of Wallachia in the winter of 1436-1437, which was
one of three Romanian provinces. He took residence at the palace of
Tirgoviste. He took this position from Alexandru I, a Danesti prince.
He was caught between two strong powers in Wallachia. As a member of
the Order of the Dragon, the King of Hungary was his sworn enemy. He
was forced to pay tribute to the Sultan as his father, Mircea the Old
had.
"In 1442, to cut the story slightly short, Vlad III, my
grandfather, and his younger brother Radu the Handsome were taken
hostage by Sultan Murad II. Vlad III was held in Turkey until 1448,
being released after being told of the death of his father at the hands
of Vladislav II. He was also told of the death of his oldest brother
Mircea, who was tortured and buried alive by boyars of Tirgoviste.
"At the age of seventeen, Vlad Tepes Dracula, meaning 'son of the
dragon', made his first large move for the throne of Wallachia. He had
a force of Turkish cavalry and a contingent of troops lent to him by
pasha Mustafa Hassan at his back. He held his ground for two months,
until Vladislav II defeated him.
"In July 1456, at the age of
twenty-four, he finally killed Vladislav II and started his longest
reign as prince of Wallachia. His reign would last but six years, and
in that time he would commit many of his greatest cruelties. His first
was on Easter Sunday of 1459, when he arrested all the boyar families
who had participated in the death of his father and brother. He impaled
the oldest of them, making the rest take a grueling march fifty miles
from Tirgoviste to Poenari without any rest. Those that made it were
given the task to build him a castle overlooking the Arges river. Many
died in the construction.
"He was a hard man. He ordered people
boiled, blinded, burned, buried alive, decapitated, hanged, hacked,
roasted, skinned, stabbed, strangled, nailed, and many other torturous
deaths. He liked to have noses, ears, limbs, and sexual organs cut from
his victims' bodies. However, his favorite method, which gave him his
other surname, was to impale people. Tepes means 'the Impaler' in
Romanian. He was also called 'Kaziglu Bey', meaning 'the Impaler
Prince', by Turks. He used impaling as a way to make note not to go
against his trade laws when he impaled Transylvanian merchants for
doing so thrice in 1457, 1459, and 1460.
"Despite his seemingly
cruel methods, he was known for his fierce insistence of honesty and
order. Any crime, from lying and stealing to killing, could be punished
by impaling the accused. In confidence of his methods, he placed a cup
of gold on the center square of Tirgoviste for thirsty travelers to
drink from. Only one catch, the cup had to remain there. No evidence
has been found that the cup was ever stolen during his reign."
Morticia took another deep breath. "He looked down on the poor,
vagrants, and beggars as thieves. He invited them, all poor and sick of
Wallachia, to his court in Tirgoviste for a great feast. However, as
soon as they were finished eating and drinking, he ordered the room
boarded up. He had it set on fire. No one survived the blaze.
"Beginning in 1462, he launched a campaign against the Turks along the
Danube river, despite the fact Sultan Mehmed II's troops were by far
more powerful than his own. Amazingly, during the winter of 1462, he
was very successful and gained several victories over the Turks. Mehmed
retaliated with a full-scale invasion on Wallachia. Vlad III quickly
made for Tirgoviste. He burnt his own villages and poisoned all the
wells along his way so the Turks would have no food or drink.
"The
Sultan arrived at the capital exhausted and starving only for his eyes
and those of his troops to land upon the grotesque scene of the 'Forest
of the Impaled'. Around 20,000 Turkish captives hung on stakes before
them. Even his most stout men were stricken by the sight. The Sultan
accepted defeat and left for Turkey. He left behind, however, Radu the
Handsome. Radu was who the Turks wanted on the throne of Wallachia.
Radu and Vlad III's detractors pursued Vlad III to Poenari castle,
which is now known as Castle Dracula, on the Arges.
"His wife, not
my grandmother, threw herself from the upper battlements. Her body fell
down the precipice into the river below. Vlad III would not commit
suicide. He escaped through a secret passage into the mountain. He was
later helped by the people of the village Arefu to reach Transylvania.
He met the new Hungarian king Matthias Corvinus, who arrested him
instead of help. Vlad III was imprisoned at the capital of Visegard
until 1475.
"In that year, he again claimed the throne of Wallachia
as prince. However, he was 'assassinated' toward the end of December in
1476."
She sighed deeply and started for her seat. She was through
with the tale. She had said more than enough. The students all watched
her. They had known she was a Tepes, but to her vocally admit that she
was indeed a descendant of Vlad Tepes Dracula... Many slid away from
her desk, not wanting to be tainted by her presence. She sighed. Even
Hermione, who had told her she did not mind her being a Tepes seemed a
little less wanting of her company.
"Well, there's a black sheep in the Gryffindor family." Draco looked smugly at them. Harry glared at the other boy.
"Better than her being a white sheep in Slytherin," Harry shot back.
Morticia looked around and stood. She looked to the teacher. "May I be
excused to speak with Madam Pomfrey?" The teacher nodded and Morticia
fled from the room. She was nearly to there when she bumped into
Professor Umbridge, who was teaching a new course on the laws of the
ministry at the school.
"What are you doing out of class?" The
toad-like woman demanded. She had absolutely no use for the trast of a
child before her.
"I'm to see Madam Pomfrey, Professor." Morticia
made to go around the woman, who grabbed her arm Morticia froze at the
contact and looked at the teacher.
"Where is a note or something?"
Morticia raised a brow. "I was excused without one." She jerked free. "Do not touch me."
Umbridge glared at the girl. "Don't take a tone with me." About then the classes starting letting out.
"Guess it doesn't matter now, Professor," Morticia said snidely, heading for the nurse.
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