Chapter 08

Bloom thought the village a bit…boring. Well, at Alfea they could always grab a bus to get to a town. But even then village wasn't very big. Two pubs and a few stores was everything there and a haunted shack nearby. The next weekend the students could come her she would went to Magix. She needed a real conversation and could meet up with the other girls. The girls here were alright but she had two years of adventures with the others and hell, she needed something else then butter-beer, pumpkin juice and water. And everyone had looked at her funny when she had asked for something else. As if there weren't other alternatives. Sighting she looked around and then moved to the friendlier looking pub. There was a board with the drinks, which were sold inside. Butter-beer and alcohol seemed the only things there. She went looking at the other pub. Well, mineral water was better than plain water. The barkeeper looked funny at her. "You came here for mineral water?" "Do you know some other place to get something else than pumpkin juice, butter-beer, alcohol or plain water?" she shot back. The man thought about it. "Point for you, girl. The students only want butter-beer or are trying to get the real hard stuff. Nothing else needed. Well, you could always get tea in this teeny-café but you don't look like someone sitting in plush chairs." "Depends on the colour and my state of mind," she shrugged and took a sip from her water and looked again at the barkeeper, "You remember me of the headmaster up there. He is an idiot. You seem decent." The man blinked. He stared at her. And then he laughed. "Girl, you are the first one to say that. I am his older brother. But you are right. He is blind. He had power for too long and nobody dared to question him. And now almost everybody young learned under him as headmaster and never had the chance to even question him. It went really bad for someone. I am still sorry for the poor boy," his eyes looked at something she didn't see. "Who? What happened?" confusion and curiosity quelled up inside her. The man put a picture on the bar. It showed a boy with long black hair and intense green eyes. He was pale and seemed focus on a big book bound in leather. He was bent over a table, seeming to follow a line in the book with one finger while trying to open a new ink pot for the feather flying next to him, waiting for more ink to continue writing. She was still getting used to moving photographs but she could still see the photo was made in this pub. She saw the table in front of the window in a corner of the room. The boy couldn't be older than her. "His name was Harry Potter. If he wasn't in here reading something and making notes about it he was in the bookstore buying whatever seemed informative to him. He got seventeen years old. He did something my brother thought nobody could survive and accused him of forbidden magic to survive it. They executed him for it. Not soon after these barriers around the planet came down, if I understood it right." "This…isn't very far in the past," she got. She tried to carve the picture into her mind. The way he read, completely concentrating on the text. "The teachers hated or loved him, didn't they? Love because of his learning and hate if he asked so long they couldn't answer them anymore," she could see it. The research departments in Magix would have loved him. The smile of the man was sad. "They loved him. Even if some of them didn't want to show it. Hell, they still do. But they know, now. Nobody questions my brother when he still holds this much power. Not if someone wants to live." "He questioned?" "He questioned and survived everything my brother threw at him without the public noticing it. If he still lived he would be in the repeating year with the other students from Ravenclaw. He couldn't stop fighting. He wanted to live." She looked again at the picture. "He couldn't get away, could he? Did he try to get away?" "They caught him the last minute he was here. Everyone openly helping him was…collateral damage. I hope they choke on their acts. I really hope it." Bloom didn't continue questioning the man. She looked at the picture of this thin teenager not older than her. She thought of the headmaster and swore to burn his mind with more power if he ever tried to get into her mind again.

Faragonda smiled at her redhead student. The new school seemed to be alright. And the girl even did the work of Alfea! It was quite impressive. But hearing about the headmaster there was something else. A man getting a student executed? This needed a lot research and was quite serious. And not many people seemed to be bothered at it. That wasn't right. She would speak to this man in the pub herself. They needed more information to judge. But the word execution still stuck in her mind like a thorn. Even if he did this magic, what was needed to cast it? Why was it forbidden? He wasn't older than her own students. She couldn't even imagine setting one of them up for something like that. She would look into it. She would visit soon. Maybe the teachers knew more about this boy.

|"I won't go back to them," he stated cold, "You're just my headmaster. You don't have a say where I spent my holydays." Blue eyes fixed themselves on his green ones. "There are spells to protect you from Voldemort, my boy. They are needed. He was here this year. He killed professor Quirrell," the voice of Dumbledore was a clear tone of no-nonsense. He didn't act on it. "Headmaster, I don't know how you can be this sure it was this wizard, who did it. And even if he was it, he didn't even come near me. He wasn't interested in me. Why should I use protections against him on my and pull his attention to me? You are just my headmaster, not my guardian. And the Dursleys will be happy to never see me again," he spit out. He felt the magic inside him curl and shift. It grew every day he was in this castle. It was pure power pulsing in the same rhythm as his heart. It pulsed inside him like a small spark. It held him together the last years there. And now he had so much power inside him, curling and moving and moving under his skin. He wouldn't let himself be sent back to the hell of the home of his relatives. He turned around to leave. Something hit him in the back. Darkness flooded his mind.|

The weather was nice and was slowly getting colder. The leaves changed slowly to orange and yellow. Autumn had come to let the live get quieter and letting the nights get longer to let them sleep longer. If you hadn't an alarm clock what seemed to be most of Gryffindor. He didn't know how the students passed her exams every year with this work attitude. The forest was quite as he reached it. The first leaves lay on the ground and the air smelled of the rain of the last night. It was…peaceful. Something moved in the corner of his eyes. He turned with a speed he didn't have to use in a long time. He knew the woman. And surprisingly no spell flew in his direction. "What do you want?" His voice was a low growl. He wouldn't let himself be frozen again. And he wouldn't lie down and die. The white haired woman started back at him. "I don't know what you want here. I don't know how you got an identity here. But I am very surprised that you didn't do anything until now. Baltor," she spoke his name in a neutral way, he noted. He tried to sense if there were more persons. The two were alone. He could let her die and disappear. But what did she want here? If he let her go, would she send others after him? If she disappeared, who would come looking for her? He fixed her with his eyes, feeling his magic curl under his skin. He knew his hands glowed. He saw the fear into her eyes. "What do you want?" he got out. She stayed silent. "I wanted information about this Harry Potter. A student of mine is here and heard about him. But you wouldn't know anything about him. You were frozen solid," she answered at least. His eyes looked her over. Could he take the risk to let the magic go? She wasn't lying. She was too frightened. She was worried for her student under Dumbledore. "The ministry has sealed records about him. This redhead from Magix spoke with a man named Malfoy. He should be high enough in the ministry to get you a copy of it," he almost spit the words out and wished the woman would disappear. A brow rose. "Why do you care?" She got curious. Damn all fairies! "I care that you are here in a place nobody from there should ever be! I won't let myself be frozen ever again!" Faragonda almost jumped back at the poison in his voice. Realization dawned in her eyes. "You want me gone. You want me gone and nobody else here, who is from the magical dimensions," her voice was very quiet and -damn all fairies and their belief into the good stuff- she sounded like she understood him! "You know what you need to know! Do me the favour and ask there. Do everyone the favour and ask there and not the other teachers. You will just get them executed because you will ask them inside the castle. And most things in the castle aren't hidden from the headmaster. And if he knows how they think of the whole thing he will let them die or get killed. Damn it all to hell and back, disappear already!" Maybe he sounded truthful enough. Maybe the girl had told the woman a few things herself he didn't know about. But horror filled her eyes. And she disappeared with a quick spell.

Malfoy was nervous. He wouldn't be here for much longer. And he it took so much out of him not to burn the letter into oblivion! The girl would get herself killed! At least she seemed to know it and added the request not to put himself in danger if it should happen. And to not send the file to her but to her headmistress who wanted to know more about the whole thing. He sent a note to this woman. He would get the files just…not now. The last minutes before he left this ministry for the last time he would get the thing. And he would never look back. And he wouldn't regret it ever. The skin, which the mark had covered, was without any trace of it. It seemed to itch. He rubbed it and let the letter disappear. Narcissa would have his hide if she knew this. But if these people knew the truth about that man…the boy had saved his son from this destiny. The boy saved him from this destiny. The only one he couldn't save was himself. Well, at least these horrible relatives of him were dead. If he ever found out who got them, he would send this person a basket with presents. And the unspeakable didn't have the slightest trace. It was simply perfect.

|Awaking was strange. He felt the thin mattress of the bed under himself and tried to remember the reason he felt so tired. He remembered getting to the train. He rode it and was mostly silent while the Hermione and Ron were talking about the slimy snakes and the bat of the dungeons. Funny, how he could think so of them when he was very sure he didn't so before. And he could have sworn he hadn't these wounds back then in Hogwarts. His eyes snapped open. Hogwarts. His mind seemed to freeze. Pain cleared his thoughts. Since when he thought of these pests as 'Hermione' and 'Ron'? Since when were the smooth talking Slytherins slimy snakes? Since when was there this whisper trying to tell him how to act? How to act? His body started shaking. He wanted to burn it out! Why felt he like burning? He wanted to tear these wrong things out of his mind! Why it hurt so much after every pain had been numb after years? Why wasn't he himself anymore? He wanted his old self! He wanted to see the wrong burn! He wanted to burn everything clear! And something inside him burned while his own hands clawed at his head. And then the pain hit him. Everything burned and hurt and he couldn't breathe-! Darkness rushed over him. Coldness swapped the pain away like a tidal wave everything from a beach. And when the dark water returned to the ocean of darkness his mind had become over years, it took the wrong things with it like the broken debris it had become. Then he stared at his burned arms and hands, not daring to look into a mirror until he heard someone in the down in the ground floor smashing the house door down.|