Chapter Three
Scene: The Ministry of Magic, the auror office.
Commodus Darvill, the head of the Auror office, checked to ensure the vault was secure. The dark witch who had threatened Hogwarts the previous month was currently trapped in an everlasting crystal, but her eventual sentence was still a matter under consideration. While most of the auror office got to leave the office at night, he was to remain here until the dawn. On the longest night of the year no less. It was curious how he came to be working for the Ministry as a law enforcer in this era. Once he had secretly been a Death Eater, posing as a low ranking auror all the while, but since the Death Eaters had always operated in the greatest secrecy, no one else knew this. Unless Voldemort himself survived, but that was impossible. He felt no compunctions about his role now. The Death Eaters had lost. Their war was over. He intended to act the role of an auror now, for the rest of his life.
He re-entered his cubicle and raised his wand ready to light the lamp and dispel the gathering shadows. Suddenly he gave a start. A hideous apparition had just materialised in front of him. A witch? Surely impossible... It must be an illusion. He stood quite still. The apparition appeared to float, inches above the ground, wrapped in a black cloak staring back at him. The face was that of a woman, framed with filthy hair. But it was hideously decayed, the desiccated flesh drawn tight over the skull. In the gaping eye sockets a smouldering fire burned. The lips peeled back over yellowed teeth in a parody of a smile.
"Greetingsss I have been waiting." A sibilant female voice seemed to echo through his mind.
Immediately he jolted into action and pointed his wand at the horror. With a flash, a spell to dispel magical conjurations issued forth. But it had no effect. The terrible being remained as she was, floating in the air before him.
"Aren't you handssome?" She hissed, and lifting a claw like hand, she placed a long, sharp nail underneath his chin. Immediately he caught a horrendous stench of bloated corpses and human putrescence. He tried to yell but the creature's burning gaze held him rooted to the spot.
"Don't resissst, you have an important role to fulfil," she urged. "You should have to anssswer to no one. With my guidancce you can take your rightful place. The posssition that iss now occupied by that fool, Fudge." He glared back at her, feeling himself inwardly agree. "You deserve to exact revenge for the defeat of the Death Eaters. I will guide you." As she goaded him he felt a sudden surge of anger against all those who had tried to keep him from his true ambitions. "Look outssside the cubicle." She commanded.
As if in a trance he left the cubicle and caught sight of a new recruit to the psychic division of the auror office. A girl of 21... he remembered the head of her division had affectionately nicknamed her 'Billie,' although he could not recall her real name offhand. She beamed as she saw him. Evidently she could not see the spectre that hovered at his side. A naturally exuberant girl, she had a childlike curiosity about the world around her that endeared her to most. "Billie," uttered Darvill with some difficulty. "I have chosen you for assistance in a mission vital to Ministry security. If you would follow immediately..."
They apparated out of the Ministry complex into the freezing London streets. Darvill was aware all the while of the terrible ghost at his side. She was guiding him to her lair. The area from which her psychic force emanated. The girl chattered incessantly to Darvill, but he was hardly listening. "There's been an unusual disturbance in the psionic flux for days sir, is that the lead? Sir?" She cocked her head and looked at him with quizzical dark eyes.
"This is the place," replied Darvill, ignoring her. They had entered a gloomy alleyway where the light of the muggle streetlamps did not reach. There was a flight of steps leading down into the cellar of one of the houses. "Something's not right sir," said Billie cautiously. She glanced fitfully around. In the dark he could hear her breathing quicken. She held up her hand and a warm, golden light flared in her palm, illuminating her pretty round face and almond eyes. "I can sense a presence of a terrible evil here, sir. It's like nothing I ever imagined before."
"Everything's fine," Darvill assured her. "And that is to be expected. I'm taking you to see an immensely powerful dark witch."
"What! Without backup? Sir, have you lost your mind?" Exclaimed Billie.
Wordlessly, Darvill struck her with a stunning spell. She had never expected an attack from him. Her eyes closed and she slumped onto the grimy floor of the alley. The golden light went out. Darvill lifted her in his arms and carried her down the stone steps and into the cellar. The place had an overpowering, fusty reek that put Darvill in mind of an underground dungeon. He raised his wand and a faint light issued forth, illuminating an emaciated old witch who sat slumped in a chair beside an old stone table. The spectre reappeared before him more terrifyingly vivid than ever. She pointed at the old witch with a skeletal finger. "Poor Xena, sshe has ssuffered in the furtherance of my causse. And that iss good... ssuffering iss good... but her life forcce is very nearly spent. She deserves her reward... it was sshe who found me by searching with her mind. I might have been dissincarnate and powerless forever if she had not formed a psychic bridge to the physical world. But the power of her mind iss limited... the mind of the girl you carry hass so much more potential. Lay her on the table, Darvill."
Darvill laid Billie carefully on the table, securing her arms and legs with conjured ropes.
"Now go, back to the Ministry and releasse Nausea, the dark witch. She will sserve us too." Urged the spectre.
"Right then," said Darvill turning to leave.
"You may call me... Deliria, oh delectable one." Hissed the phantom. Darvill left the cellar, heading back to the Ministry complex.
Billie groaned and her eyelids flickered open. She found herself bound to the stone table. "Where am I...?" she murmured.
"Awake my precious girl, but don't sstruggle," urged Deliria, looming over her. Billie gave a shriek and began to thrash and struggle. Deliria pressed a claw like hand to her forehead and Billie felt it... so cold and clammy. A terrible foetid reek of decaying flesh overwhelmed her senses. The fire of Deliria's eyes flared. "Be mine preciouss... you have no other choice."