Pairings: FemHP/TMR, LP/JP, SB/OC, RL/NT
Disclaimer: I own no rights to the Harry Potter franchise and seek to make no profits from the distribution of this fictional work.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews, follows and favorites; they have continued to inspire my writing. This is a rather slow chapter but the setup is necessary for later actions so enjoy!
Behind the Veil
By StycianLeo
Chapter XXII
Hogwarts, Unplottable Location, Scotland
Hospitals are paradoxical places. When people are sick or injured they go to them to be treated but they resent them because they represent the infirmity that necessitates their existence. The beds are clean and comfortable but they are seldom fondly remembered, the nurses and doctors are patient and helpful but remain politely distant.
The Hospital Wing at Hogwarts was no different in those regards.
Lily had never recalled ever being fond of this particular room despite the fact that she liked and respected Madam Pomfrey. For all that she had disliked the place as a student she had found that as a parent she utterly loathed it now. The too clean scent of antiseptic, the too white sheets that covered the beds, the too quiet atmosphere; everything about the room was a bad reminder of how her daughters spent far too much time here.
Liatris had spent the final weeks of her last term at Hogwarts under magical stasis because she had suffered grievous wounds that would not heal and caused her unbearable amounts of agony. Iris had only left her sister's side to attend classes and meals and even then she had been ousted by the Healer and dragged about by her friends than do it willingly.
Of course, the Potter heiress had also spent an inordinate amount of time from her own injuries. Broken bones, torn muscles, dislocations and sprains; Lily could not understand the draw of playing Quidditch with the toll that it extracted from the body and her girl wasn't even fifteen yet. If it weren't for magic she was certain that by thirty Iris would have been moving about like an old crone.
But it hadn't been a fall or a bludger that had put her eldest in the detestable bed she was currently tucked in, her face a serene mask as her dark hair flowed across her pillow like a pool of ink. Lily was carding her fingers through that chaotic mane as she perched on the edge of the hospital bed staring over her daughter's sleeping form at one of her longtime friends, eyes a thousand shades of green fixed on the bright brown eyes of the Assistant Defense Professor.
"So you're telling me a boggart managed to hospitalize my daughter? And then she put you and her best friend in the hospital too?" Disbelief colored Lily's voice since she couldn't fathom a boggart of all things being dangerous nor could she see a point in time where Iris would attack her uncle and her best friend.
"In essence, yes. There were other factors involved but that wouldn't be an inaccurate summation of events." Remus quipped with a forced smile as he tried to inject some levity but the fierce glare that the enchantress levelled at him was more than enough to make him agree to give it up as a bad job.
"From what I saw and Madam Pomfrey diagnosed, Iris suffered a panic attack that was precipitated by the boggart. Upon blacking out her magic, which we've always known to be strong, reacted by trying to defend her and it… well, it obliterated the creature and half the classroom with it. Miss Granger and I were knocked out by the overpressure." The explanation clarified events but from the way that the red headed witch stiffened it wasn't reassuring in the least.
"A panic attack precipitated by a boggart taking on her worst fears! What the bloody hell did she see Moony?" Lily's frustration and concern plainly evident as she looked down at her daughter's sleeping face before she glanced at the potions of Calming Draught and Dreamless Sleep that the school's resident Healer had left at Iris's bedside.
"Honestly Lily… I've no idea." The werewolf sighed tiredly as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "The response that she had to the boggart was something you typically see in veteran Aurors. There were other cases like this following the last war, survivors of Death Eater raids and the like; my father kept very extensive notes on the subject."
"But what could Iris possibly fear to provoke that level of reaction? I now good and well that two bloody years ago that her greatest fear were snakes! What in Morgana's name has gone on in this castle that could make a boggart give her a panic attack?!" Lily didn't really need him to answer that question though and the wizard knew it as well so he wisely remained silent while he let the angry mother compose herself.
At age eleven, Iris had gone through a number of obstacles that had nearly killed another student in order to prevent a shade of Grindlewald that was possessing a professor from acquiring a Philosopher's Stone. The professor apparently perished after the encounter.
At age twelve, Iris had stood vigil over her injured sister and then disappeared into the bowels of the school to return with the Longbottom heir after a protracted battle with the yet another incarnation of the leader of the Dark Reich.
It went without saying that her daughter had given them the highlights rather than the play-by-play but after those kinds of events; no one could fault her for not wanting to relive her experiences by asking for a more detailed accounting.
"I'll say this Lily, boggarts are creatures that feed on fear and I suspect that Iris has been worrying herself sick over facing one. That kind of anxiety would have been a feast for the creature and once strengthened it threw her worst nightmare in her face, ultimately her terror gave it more power and she was stuck in the loop until she passed out."
"I'm glad to know that you've a theory about this but why didn't you snap her out of it?" Lily snapped, her ire getting the better of her. She immediately regretted it as she saw her friend flinch from her angry words, "I'm sorry Remus, that wasn't fair of me."
The werewolf waved away her apology as he looked at her with tired eyes, "No, you're right. I know what Iris went through the last couple of years and I know her level of maturity isn't typical for someone her age. I should have realized that putting her in front of a boggart was going to be a bad idea but she's never shown any signs of trauma, I let myself believe that she was fine even when she was clearly distressed. I'm ashamed of myself!"
Lily loosed a mental sigh as she looked down at her daughter, the gears in her mind turning as she thought of the level of fear that would have been needed to provoke a burst of accidental magic in a thirteen year old and with enough force to destroy a classroom.
"No more ashamed than I. They have nightmares nearly every night, Remus. Lia… she talked to me about it, how she wakes up remembering how she was attacked and how Iris always got up to comfort her. She felt guilty about it at first but she started noticing that Iris was always awake before she was, so I put up a monitoring charm in their bedroom.
"I've been waiting for her to come to me but I know she won't, she the best and worst of me and James. Utterly stubborn and unyieldingly self-reliant; she'll take on the weight of the world and never complain even as it breaks her. How do we help her when she won't accept any?" Lily's voice cracked as she held back the tears that threatened to spill as she wrestled with her feelings of helplessness, watching the steady rise and fall of her daughter's chest.
"My dear, isn't that why you pushed for me to add a counselor to the staff this year?" Albus's voice was soft but kind and warm as he looked at the woman compassionately, the familiar twinkle in his crystal blue eyes far more subdued than usual.
Lily jumped in startled surprise at the Headmaster's silent appearance; she hadn't even heard the heavy doors open let alone close and from Remus's expression she could tell that he hadn't noticed it either. Her surprise quickly gave way to the surge of anger that welled up hot and fierce within her.
"Yes, indeed I did Professor. I had hoped that you would have put that estimable mind of yours to hiring a counselor with both the skill and experience needed for the post; instead you've hired a woman who's barely out of school herself! And a fraud at that!"
Under normal circumstances Lily's temper was quick to rouse and explosive, burning hot before dissipating abruptly. However, her daughter was in the hospital wing and Albus had more than likely been intruding on a private conversation so this wasn't exactly a typical fit of her pique.
"That's rather unfair of you Lily-" The Headmaster began but was cut off as the alumni rose up from her daughter's bedside and fixed the silver haired wizard with her fiercest glare, her emerald eyes afire as her magic swirled about her and made her hair dance in an unfelt wind.
"Do not take me for a fool Headmaster! Her records are impressive save for how none of the teachers at her school seem to recall an Artemis Sinclair and how the only two people who can recall her from her career at Her Lady's Grace Hospital are the Head of Pediatrics and the resident Psychologist but none of the orderlies or nurses do!"
Dumbledore's face paled beneath his heavy beard and long hair, in fact it would have been nearly impossible to tell that he had reacted to the revelation at all if not for the twinkle in his eye having guttered out and the fact that his hands were clenched firmly enough to make his knuckles pale to a bony white.
"There are circumstances that you do not know-" The wizened old man began but again he was silenced by another outburst.
"Of course there are Headmaster because you neglect to inform anyone of them! Do you think I would have allowed my daughter to come to this school if I had known that you had hidden a bloody Philosopher's Stone in the castle?! And then you've the gall to say that this was the safest place to protect it! A school full of children and a set of defenses that four First Year students could bypass!
"You were luring the Dark into this castle and you the vaunted master of Legilimency that you are could not perceive that your nemesis was playing parasite to one of your own teachers! Nor that some article had managed to possess your boy savior the following year!
"I've read my daughter's letters, Longbottom brags of how much attention you lavish upon him and yet you didn't think anything strange when his marks jumped from mediocre to near the top of his class overnight?! How is it that at every turn your failures seem to drag my children into the melee?!"
Lily's voice had started off loud and indignant but by the time her rant had come to a close it had softened to a furious whisper as her eyes bored into the old man's, daring him to take a peek into her mind and see just what she thought of him. To his credit, he didn't but that did little to soothe her at the moment as the Valkyrie smiled grimly as she had always done when triumph was at hand.
"As you can no doubt tell I've used my position on the Board to fully investigate what has been going on in this castle over the last few years. Your responsibility as Headmaster is to ensure a safe environment and the best education that you can provide. I'd say you've fallen well short of the mark in both of these regards and a number of the other Governors feel likewise. There will be a vote at the end of the academic year to determine if you should continue as Headmaster of this institution and I can assure you that if any more events take place that endanger the students, you will find yourself removed from your post!"
Remus had been watching the violent, one-sided exchange with a mixture of shock and disbelief; never in his life had he ever seen anyone take Dumbledore to task before and do it with all the righteous fury and indignation that Lily summoned up. He hadn't seen this side of the woman in nearly a decade, not since she had retired from the battlefield following the Blood War because sure enough that was the grim visage that had made Death Eaters rue the day they had ever taken their Master's Mark.
The Headmaster was deeply shaken by his former student's words even as his mind was working frantically to calculate the number of votes it would take to depose him as Headmaster permanently. She couldn't possibly have the clout as yet to knock him from his perch, not after a mere six weeks on the Board of Governors.
Then again she had gained her seat with Lucius Malfoy's backing and the arrogant pureblood had not only the money but the motivation to see him depart from the castle. If Lily, a respected witch and venerated hero of the last conflict, had indeed allied herself with the aristocrat then there was a good chance that she could deliver on that threat.
His position was vital to the continued safety and security of the Wizarding World, he needed to be able to watch over and mold young Neville so that he could play his role in defeating Gellert. His position at Hogwarts was necessary to keeping his spy safe as well as safeguarding Trelawney so she could not divulge the secret of the prophecy. And of course, he needed to keep Tom in check.
Lily, his wayward child, was threatening all of his carefully laid plans with her temper tantrum. Didn't she realize how catastrophic that would be? Didn't she know that he had dedicated his life to serving the Greater Good?
'She is right though, you've many charges here at Hogwarts and you have failed them,' His conscience whispered, 'You threatened all of the children's safety by bringing the stone to Hogwarts. Twice in as many years you've allowed Gellert to threaten the school. And now you've allowed Death Eaters to go free.'
Albus sighed morosely, suddenly feeling more tired than he had in a long time. He was cleverer than most men and his mistakes were often far more costly as a result of it; his pangs of conscience never let him forget those errors. But it was also necessary. So very, very necessary.
"You are, as usual, correct." Dumbledore bowed his head to his former students and allowed his eyes to linger on the pale face of the sleeping girl, "My lapses in judgment have endangered not only your children but all of the students here at Hogwarts. I would ask that you trust me but that seems over much considering the way things have run afoul."
It was so easy to make Neville into the prophesized child when Gellert left that wretched scar upon his flesh but now… Gellert has an interest in the girl and so too does Tom, so perhaps this is how he has marked her as his equal. The Stone should have been enough to draw out the chosen one but in my haste to control Iris, both children went after it.
"Miss Sinclair is on loan to me from the Department of Mysteries, she's a talented mind-healer who specializes in trauma and has extensive field experience. As you have deduced everything about her is false, from her face to her history, to ensure her identity as an Unspeakable remains protected.
"After my failures it seemed only prudent that I acquire someone for my staff that could satisfy your desires but also serve as another line of defense against the threats that exist considering my views on Dementors."
In front of their eyes it seemed as though the Headmaster was aging, he seemed suddenly frail and withered where he had always been a vibrant and enthusiastic man. Lily winced internally at seeing the man like this, she had long ago been disillusioned of his infallibility during the war and she didn't feel even a twinge of guilt for protecting her daughters but she also knew that it wasn't spite or malevolence that drove him.
He was simply human. Even if he forgot that he was.
"I will give you the benefit of the doubt Professor but what I said stands, if another child comes to harm as a direct consequence of your action or inaction then I will leverage everything I have to see you ejected from Hogwarts." The fiery tendrils of Lily's hair settled into their familiar cascade as her magic calmed but for all that she mastered her temper, the steel in her voice was readily apparent.
Dumbledore nodded graciously as he accepted her ultimatum without protest and departed from the Hospital Wing with a few murmured farewells. Lily watched as the old wizard walked away, she could practically see him spinning new threads to circumvent her words if anything did happen but she expected it off him. He was a politician after all.
She sorely hoped that she would not have to be the blade that severed those threads but somehow she knew she would be, otherwise it would be another far more dangerous individual that burned the tapestry that was England's magical community.
Monday morning brought a return to normalcy for Iris as she circled high above the Quidditch pitch looking for the gleam of gold that was the only indication of the snitch. A thick fog had begun over the lake and had spilled out onto the grounds, blanketing the world in a bleak gray and carrying a definite chill as her robes became laden with moisture.
The last few days had been rather exhausting for the witch; it had started on the Friday after her boggart induced panic attack when she had awoken to her mother's presence at her bedside. That had actually been rather nice, even after knowing objectively that her mother had been with her for years there was still a part of her psyche that simply couldn't take it for granted.
Mother and daughter had shared a Hogwarts provided breakfast in the solitude of the Hospital Wing while Madam Pomfrey had busied herself with her diagnostic charms and talking about the advances in medicine with the enchantress. The pleasantness had lasted until Iris had been discharged and cleared for classes; Lily had given her a loving hug and departed through the matron's personal floo.
After that it had been stares and whispers, word had gotten out about the Defense class and how Iris had managed to destroy half the classroom; boggart, wardrobe, desks (the Weasley twins were very appreciative for destroying the teacher's desk and the essays within). She was rather accustomed to all of the attention and she let it roll over and off of her without being fazed.
It was the displays of concern that set Iris on edge; she had expected Hermione to stay close since it was in the girl's nature to be concerned and fretting. Likewise she was prepared for Liatris and Pollux making their presence known, it was even endearing to see two Second Years glaring fiercely at the more inquisitive students who had been looking to get the scoop on what had transpired.
Now though she was getting worried looks from some of the students, not the normal worried looks like when they were worried she was going to attack them or break out into a maniacal cackle. These were looks of worry that were for her, like she was going to fall to pieces or breakdown crying any moment. It was… unnerving, to say the least.
So it was hundreds of feet in the air that Iris was finally starting to relax in the way that only flying seemed to accomplish, the way that her fears and concerns bled away as she hurtled through the air on the back of a broomstick. And perhaps it was because she was feeling so free when she caught the familiar figure sitting in the stands with his smoldering charcoal eyes fixed to her that she decided to push herself just a tad when she caught sight of the snitch below the visitor's hoops.
She drifted lazily through the air as though she hadn't picked up on the winged ball of gold before she executed a half sloth roll and yanked on the nose of her broom to drop into a near vertical dive. She rocketed towards the earth at speeds that reduced the world to shapeless blurs as all of her attention focused on her prey.
Her shadow dropped over her target like a hawk's and the winged ball tried to swerve out of her path but to little avail as her hand snapped out and seized it. With one hand on her broom she plunged into the fog below and pulled back sharply to level off, the shaft of wood vibrated as the braking charms tried to compensate for the sudden switch in direction.
She felt the wood buckle for a moment before it complied and executed a near ninety degree rotation that shot her like an arrow through the cloud of vapor, spiraling through a tight helix. The witch emerged from the fog like shark's dorsal fin before rising in a gentle arc so that she slowed to a hover behind her Captain who was peering down into the mist with apprehension.
"Hiya Oliver!" Iris chirped merrily with a Cheshire smile as she stretched out languidly over the haft of the Nimbus.
The Gryffindor Captain yelped and nearly unbalanced himself in his surprise, righting himself he directed an angry snarl at the girl but it lost its effect when his eyes shone with a mixture of relief and excitement. No doubt he was thinking about their prospects of having the Quidditch Cup with his name on it.
With a wink for the burly keeper, Iris banked and drifted over to the stands where the solitary figure sitting in the Family's Box was.
"I wondered how long you would let me sit here before acknowledging me," Riddle stated as the girl dismounted her broom and dropped the few feet to land gracefully on the wooden bench beside him.
"I considered letting you wait for two weeks but I thought that would have been rather rude," Iris quipped back with a meaningful look as she settled herself onto the bench.
The grimace that appeared on the man's face lasted all of a second before it was hidden behind an impassive mask but the witch was rather pleased at having managed to provoke it.
"It was not by choice I assure you." Riddle growled, "The Headmaster has decided to play a new game; he blames me for losing his hold over you. Admittedly he is partially correct in that assumption but there is no way for him to know that. Regardless he has seen fit to make sure we do not continue your sessions."
"What else did you expect? He lost his toy and now he's throwing a tantrum." Iris said with a shrug as she released the snitch and snatching it back as soon as it moved to depart, "The real question is what you have in mind to piss him off?"
The Deputy's lip twitched in what would have been a genuine smile before he conquered the expression, "It is troubling that I've become so transparent you."
The look he received in turn was one of amusement, "I've been studying under you for nearly two years; dueling, spellwork, parselmagic, even magical theory. Did you think I wouldn't learn how to read you in the midst of all that?"
'Valid point,' he conceded, 'With all the effort and time I've invested into her she should be as capable as any of my lieutenants, with a bit more training in the Dark Arts she could be more dangerous than Bellatrix.'
That was a frightening thought; Bellatrix had inspired nearly as much fun as he had in the last war. If he could get Iris on par with his strongest lieutenant's skill with her magical strength, the havoc that she could sow amongst her enemies would be titanic.
He did in fact smile at that thought, there were far too many teeth involved for it to be considered anything less than feral but Iris had seen that kind of fierce glee before and it no longer unnerved her.
"To answer your original question, I am under too much scrutiny to continue your lessons but I have secured you a tutor you should find more than satisfactory. Furthermore, she'll show you to a place where you can train in secret where none will interfere. You'll have to make your own excuses for your absences though."
"Shouldn't be that difficult, I've vanished for hours at a time since I started at Hogwarts. No one is going to question it now." The witch replied with an easy smirk as she looked out over the pitch as her teammates started heading for the locker rooms.
"No one was looking too closely before; Dumbledore will be paying more attention as will his new lapdog." The way that the Professor practically spat out the last word was evidence of how much he disliked the new counselor.
"Sinclair hasn't brought me or Lia into her office yet but she has started with some of the other victims, especially Longbottom. He's had a scheduled visit with her every Wednesday afternoon from what Lavender has mentioned; apparently it's been helping him deal with everything that transpired last year."
"I'm sure it is helping him. People often find it cathartic to confide their weaknesses in others and allow themselves to be reassured with empty platitudes."
"I suppose you're not a fan of therapists then." Iris said with a wry smile that faded away when she looked at the man's grim countenance.
"I'm not a… fan, of expressing weakness. If you must have a confessor, then make sure they cannot betray you." Riddle nodded sagely at his own advice, his eyes distant as he peered into the realm of memories.
Iris recalled the adders of Warwickshire and how she had expressed her worries, her weaknesses, to them. Thankfully there were few who could speak to serpents and fewer still who might think she would confide in them.
"So it's safe to assume that whatever is being shared with her in confidence is being divulged to the Headmaster then."
"Undoubtedly yes, Albus as you know has few qualms when it comes to what he believes is best. Law, morality, ethics, these are just words in the face of his 'Greater Good' so I wouldn't put it past him to learn every secret that passes from a student's lips and into Sinclair's ear." Riddle shrugged nonchalantly as he spoke, unfazed by the depravity that he spoke of with clinical detachment.
"I'll make sure Lia is aware that she shouldn't trust the Counselor any farther than she can throw her. I should probably make sure she's still doing her Occlumency exercises too while I'm at it."
"Well-reasoned. Sinclair is purported to be a mind-healer; Legilimency would be within her realm of expertise and if she is actively working to assist the Headmaster as I believe than it wouldn't out of the question that she might go rooting around the heads of the students."
The blood drained out of Iris's face leaving it milky pale as the memory of the boggart cropped up before she could suppress it. Voldemort, Dumbledore, Grindelwald, all of them had pierced the sanctum of her mind and violated her in the basest way possible. The very idea of someone doing something so vile to the students was sickening in the extreme and roused the dark flame of her hatred.
She seized that wicked heat and clung to it, felt it fill her with its strength as it whispered promises of destruction and pain for those who threatened her.
Riddle was taken aback by the sudden shift in Iris's aura as her magic surged, the familiar scent of impending rain was lost to the strong smell of ozone and the distant growl of thunder. He turned his head sharply and watched as the girl's eyes shone with their eerie light and the flecks of gold turned to rivers.
He could practically hear her power singing in the air; seductive and rapturous in its call to arms. He could feel his magic roiling in his veins, eager to answer and lay waste to her enemies, eager to dance and revel in the wake of calamity. It was difficult for him to maintain the firm control he had over his magic.
It was more difficult still to maintain control over his composure.
Sinclair had accused him of trying to seduce the girl into his bed. The very notion had filled him with rage; not that he hadn't committed many atrocities and had even more done in his name but to suggest that he, the man who revered power and strength more than any other would attempt to control it with little more than amorous supplications. It was laughably naïve, obviously concocted by the old fool's preaching of love and redemption.
If he was going to seduce the girl it would be in much the same manner that she was doing now because if he, who had neither her sensitivity for magic or her gift of magesense, could feel his body responding to the enthralling power at her beck and call… what would it be like for her to be surrounded by his unholy might?
No, she was still a student, a mere babe learning to walk amongst a realm of Titans. He would let her sample his magic when she was prepared. Where was the fun of conquest if there was no challenge to it after all?
Iris returned to herself slowly, reluctantly, as she regained control of the tide of magic and redirected back into the deep well that existed within her. The release of her magic was exhilarating, even spurred by the dark edge of her hatred and desperate to raze everything that opposed her will; it was a level of elation a hundredfold what she felt in flight.
Such exaltation was costly, her bones throbbed painfully and her nerves tingled with pain from the overstimulation. She knew if she turned to her magesight she would find the conduits that her magic ran through within her had widened in preparation of wielding the vast reserves in her core. It would require tremendous amounts of concentration today to perform even the simplest feats of magic without overpowering her spells.
"Would you like to explain where that little outburst came from?" Riddle asked with honest interest though the undercurrent of mordancy in his tone was a subtle rebuke that she accepted graciously.
"As my confessor would you swear on your life and magic to never betray me?" Iris rejoined after a moment as she considered the question with a seriousness that was uncommonly adult for a teenager and yet something that had defined their every interaction.
"You learn quickly Potter." Riddle complimented with an actual smile on his face as the girl flushed slightly at the praise. How humorous. "To answer your question, no, I shan't be giving you such an oath. There is no telling where the future will take us and swearing my allegiance to a thirteen year old isn't exactly prudent. Even if you are a prodigy."
She rose with a nonchalant toss of her hair and smiled at the professor, "I figured as much, and for the same reason I shan't be giving away my weaknesses." Mounting her broom, Iris turned her emerald gaze to him once more; "I'll be expecting a note for where I am to meet this tutor that you've arranged in the near future Lord Slytherin." Kicking off with a playful smile the girl lanced through the air as little more than a crimson blur as she shot for the locker rooms.
"Impertinent chit," Riddle muttered fondly as he stood and looked around the box they had been sharing. He grimaced at the wooden benches that had warped and splintered beneath the sheer weight of her magical onslaught, with a wave of his hand and a muttered incantation they began to right themselves only to fall to pieces again. "Prodigy indeed!" He murmured with a sigh as he called an elf to take care of the mess.
As the counselor for Hogwarts, Ariana had been given a suite of rooms on the third floor that overlooked the quad and were roughly equidistant from all of the school's Houses. Her office had been designed to create a welcoming and safe atmosphere with its cream colored walls and the thick, plush carpets; even the furniture was made from a lightly stained elm rather than the darker woods that were favored by many of the professors (because of ink spills).
Being new to the castle had made things difficult for her initially, few of the students were willing to open themselves up to an unknown entity so her first week in the castle had been spent reassuring homesick first year students and making inroads with some of the more troubled students who had been sent her way. The hours that she had suffered through offering words of comfort and being a shoulder to cry on had been well spent however.
Word had spread of her warm demeanor and gentle disposition along with her open-door policy; after years of students only being able to steal a few moments of time from their Heads of Houses during their office hours, having a member of staff whose job was to be available at all times had been a nice change.
It was hardly a surprise that some of the first real challenges came from the Hufflepuffs, hard work and loyalty was their creed and her function fit nicely with those ideals. So she found herself beset by children wearing the yellow and black trimmings of the badger as they turned to her for solace when there insecurities flared, looked to her for aid against bullies, and sought her out for her advice.
Rationally, she knew that the pleasure she derived from helping the students was merely a reflection of Albus's own desire to protect and aid 'his' children but if she allowed herself to forget that for a moment it was almost like being human. It was a pleasant delusion but ultimately still a falsehood and were she human that might have caused her distress but since she wasn't all she could muster for her situation was apathy or a mild happiness at her own existence; also reflections of the Headmaster's emotions.
By the end of the third week of class she had found herself greeted openly in the halls, mostly those from Sprout's House but a few Lions and Eagles had taken to her as well. The only students who had yet to step through her door were those bearing the silver and green of Slytherin.
Not that it was unexpected; there was nothing cunning or ambitious about seeing the castle's resident mind-healer. The very concept of it was anathema to the aura of strength and elitism that the Viper's Den wanted to project and anyone who broke rank was inviting a dagger in the back. So the reaction had been predicted but it was inconvenient for the Headmaster's plans.
Thankfully, teenage hormones could be relied upon to create openings when circumstances normally wouldn't. This was why a very angry young man was sitting in the leather chair on the other side of her desk, his arms folded across his chest and a recalcitrant expression on his face as he peered at her.
"Hello Mister Nott, I'd like to say it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance but considering the circumstances I think we'll agree that it would be a false sentiment." The blonde woman said from the wingback chair she was casually reclined into, a sheet of parchment in her left hand.
Theodore smirked as he shrugged in response to the woman's proclamation, "If you say so Madam Sinclair, I would think any circumstance to make your acquaintance would be quite fortuitous."
The boy's flirtatious smile and easy tone was quite good for someone his age, undoubtedly given a few more years he'd be a heartbreaker but for even a fledgling Legilimens he was practically shouting his contempt. For Ariana who had all of her creator's memories and skills, she could peer into every wrinkle of his mind; all of his secrets and desires were open to the tendrils of thought that she was projecting.
"I doubt your father would agree Mister Nott. Nor would your uncle I believe. A pureblood Slytherin getting caught past curfew sneaking out of the Restricted Section with a book on the Dark Arts." Ariana didn't need to scan the boy's surface thoughts to know that his father would be displeased at learning this information.
Tacitus and Nero Nott were vicious as schoolboys having learned from their father Thaddeus that ambition could be achieved with ruthlessness and a disregard for societal niceties. It seemed that Theodore had learned at the same school from the flash of memory that she saw of a young boy being put under the Racking Curse.
"The real question Theodore is what were you planning on doing with La Mars' Codex of Combative Magicks? The spells it contains are not the trifling cantrips that Lockhart peddled in that sham of a dueling club but the means to inflict grievous injury and death." Ariana withdrew her mental probes to the surface of the boy's mind where imagination laid while she spoke.
Almost as soon as she finishing speaking, the Nott scion was conjuring up indistinct images, people screaming or crying or silently gritting their teeth against pain. These were conceptualizations of suffering, amorphous in their abstraction at undirected but from these imaginings came a picture with the clarity of memory.
A House Elf standing in a crowded ballroom, a silver platter at its feet with shards of crystal lying in a dark stain of what had presumably been a pristine rug of some value. The frail thing was cowering in fright as a throng of people gathered around it, a wordless cry of rage punctuated the scene as a beam of crimson energy lit up the air and case vaulted chamber into a stark relief.
Ariana was familiar enough with the Cruciatus Curse to know it by sight alone, the sanguine bolt with its corona of blinding white; so she knew before the spell connected what was going to happen. The spindly limbed creature began wailing as it was assailed with overwhelming pain, its high pitched screams rattled the chandelier above but it did little to deter its attacker.
A second flash of crimson joined the first and after a few heartbeats more came a third and a fourth. Each new beam brought more pain to the creature as it convulsed in silent agony, its voice unable to express its torture.
From Ariana's perspective, she could see as blood dribbled out from the elf's bat-like ears, its nose and mouth had rivulets flowing from them as well as crimson tears. And then it stopped writhing, its chest ceased to rise in the great heaves as it gulped down air when the pain permitted it. Its eyes glazed as life fled from the tortured being and sought respite beyond the Veil.
The memory changed then as it took on the surreal quality that remembered dreams had, such was Theodore's knowledge of suffering that his imaginings emerged from that ghastly sight. The house-elf morphed, growing larger as the toga-like cloth shifted into expensive silk robes with the embroidered coat of arms for House Nott on the breast until at last there was a man lying on the floor in the still repose of death.
She wondered if Tacitus Nott knew that he had kindled in his son a desire to see him dead as she looked at the taciturn man's handsome features frozen in pain. The face warped quickly though, bubbling and shifting until Nero's boyish face looked up with blank eyes; forever unseeing.
The face and clothes changed over and over again, tutors that had mocked and punished him were in various poses of torment; cousins that had pushed him around found themselves in huddled heaps at his feet.
More to Ariana's interest were those garbed in the familiar uniform of Hogwarts.
Neville Longbottom. Ron Weasley. Draco Malfoy. Zacharias and Sally Smith. Lilith Moon. Sally-Anne Perks. Hermione Granger. Iris Potter.
She didn't know why half of them were on Nott's 'hit-list' but the rest she could make a fair guess at but only two of those faces was she concerned with.
She withdrew completely from the boy's mind with the mental equivalent of a wet pop and watched with a kind of morbid curiosity as Theodore's face paled when he realized what had just been done to him. In a matter of seconds his face changed into a rictus of rage as blood rushed back into his head and an angry purple washed over him as he made to rise from his chair.
The blonde woman waved her hand in almost careless gesture as she shaped her intent and willed her magic to seize the child in a crushing grip that froze him in place as the air around him took on the consistency of steel.
"Well, that was delightfully insightful Theodore." The golem enthused with a gay smile as she stood up from behind her desk and walked slowly around so that she was standing in front of the paralyzed teenager, "You know I don't need to be a mind-healer to tell you that you've got some major daddy issues. In all fairness, Tacitus wasn't any different and we found his father in thirteen pieces; Devil's Snare can be quite insidious when you're being held under the Cruciatus. Really it was quite clever but one has to wonder if ol' Thaddeus felt it when he was pulled apart?"
Ariana leaned forward so that she was standing face to face with her captive as she smiled menacingly, her features changing to give her a decidedly bestial appearance as she looked into his expressive hazel eyes that had taken on a murky brown in his fear.
"Oh, don't fret little one, I won't tell anyone what's in your head. In fact, I'm going to do you a favor and give you some advice since your father has left you woefully unprepared for the reality of the situation you find yourself in." The woman let her hand trail across the teen's broad chest and smirked to herself as she heard his breath hitch as the fear in his eyes were darkened by lust. Reaching into the folds of his robes and extracted the boy's wand and held it between her fingers as she gave the boy a coy smile as she leaned back slightly, allowing him a tantalizing view of the pale flesh of her cleavage.
"Do you know why dear old Tacitus was one of Voldemort's top lieutenants?" Ariana's question drew Theodore's eyes away from the display of skin that he was enjoying as she piqued his curiosity enough to make him focus on her face. "It was because of those same lessons that your father taught you; violence, intimidation, ruthlessness, they're excellent motivators when applied correctly but ultimately they are the tools of thugs."
Confident that she had managed to ensnare Theodore's attention she perched herself on the edge of her desk and relaxed the spell that had held him in his arrested position. Without the spell's support he plopped down into his seat and he made no move to rise but she leveled his wand at his chest just to ensure his compliance.
"Thugs are exceedingly useful; you point them at a target and watch them go to work. I'm sure you've used Misters Crabbe and Goyle's services enough times to realize this so it should come as no surprise to you that your father and uncle were some of the best followers that the Dark Lord had at his disposal. That's what you are right now Mister Nott, a thug."
Heir Nott's knee-jerk reaction was to yell in indignation at being compared to the likes of Malfoy's pet bodyguards and to vehemently deny it but he wisely held his tongue at the look that Sinclair was leveling at him and the fact that his wand was spitting orange sparks at him. Swallowing thickly he nodded for her to continue as he struggled to maintain control over his composure.
Ariana let him see a pleased smile while she mentally scoffed as the boy illustrated her point, make a showing of power and the sheep move at the shepherd's command. He had little choice in the matter, he didn't have the strength or skill to take her on but he could have at least showed a bit of spirit.
Regardless of his failings, he was the best suited for the task she needed completed and thus she needed to play him delicately. The game of recruitment necessitated that she be equal parts accommodating and stern as she lured him in.
"I only said that's what you are not what you could be. I have high hopes for you Theodore; I see the leader in you that your father wishes he was. Have you never wondered why it was that your father has always punished you more severely? He told you it was because wizards are tougher, that as his heir you had to be stronger, you needed more discipline. I've looked into your mind Theodore and everything he said is rubbish!
"He came down on you because he fears you. He killed his own father and he wants to make sure you don't repeat history! He wants you broken and weak! He doesn't want you to be the powerful Lord that you have it in you to be!"
Even as the words came out of her mouth, Ariana knew it was a load of bollocks; the boy in front of her was too much like his father. Entitled, arrogant, proud; he had the domineering personality that made for a good enforcer but a true leader… he would never inspire the loyalty that someone like Grindelwald could or invoke the submission that was Voldemort's trademark.
It didn't stop the handsome lad from eating up her words like they were honey as he envisioned himself as he had always done, mightier and more deserving than anyone else. He knew he was destined for greatness; it didn't even occur to him that after rooting through his mind, as he knew she had, that she was playing him like a world-class musician.
Instead he had a cocksure smile plastered on his face as he sat his chair like a throne after she finished stroking his ego but he maintained enough presence to try to be Slytherin about it, "I take it that all of this come with a price doesn't it? The path to Lordship is one only you can guide me on and you need me to prove my worth. Is that it?"
"Everything has a price Theodore, that's something you'll find to be true no matter the circumstances. But to answer your question, no; the path to your future is something that any number of people can provide you the lessons for. Professor Riddle knows them as does the Headmaster but as you know, they've already hedged their bets on others."
"Longbottom and Potter!" The scion spat the names of his fellow heirs with disgust, it didn't take a genius with the way that the Golden Boy preached about Dumbledore all but doting on him as a grandfather to know that the boy had been picked to be the old wizard's protégé.
The Gryffindor Princess wasn't any better but at least she was quiet about it; consistently at the top in every subject she was in and practically a prodigy when it came to magic. It was an open secret that she had been party to Longbottom's Adventure back in their first year and that was before she came out of the dungeons a few months back with the Boy-Who-Lived holding her like a drowning man clung to flotsam while she had the panacea for the students in the hospital wing.
"Quite astute of you." Ariana drawled as she carefully laced her voiced with contempt, "One is a traitor to the Blood and the other is the progeny of a Mudblood abomination!"
The look of shocked surprise crossed the boy's face for a moment before his features were transformed into a feral grin; finally there was someone in this school that understood the right way of things and he said as much.
"Oh yes Heir Nott, there are many in our fair society that understand the plight that we Purebloods face but men like Dumbledore have too much power to openly oppose. His defeat of Grindelwald in the Great War has earned him the respect of many even as his titles in England have given him an unparalleled stranglehold over the Isles.
"Riddle is better in that he appreciates the strength of the Blood even as he is not pure, how the great Salazar would roll in his grave if he knew that his final successor was a Halfblood and a son of a Muggle no less!" Ariana's beautiful face twisted into a disgusted sneer as she let that information loose, it was a gamble of course; some of the Purebloods would see his ancestry as more important than his blood status but she believed that more would relegate him to a second-class citizen even if he was a war hero.
War hero, a laughable concept really, the Death Eaters had retreated into obscurity after Grindelwald's forces broke faith at the destruction of their Lord leaving only a few overzealous fighters bearing the Dark Mark to be captured. Riddle had made his claim to fame in the final months of the war as he hunted down the deserters of the Dark Reich, if only the fools knew that their 'hero' was really taking his revenge for the cowardice of his ally's followers.
Theodore was shocked at this information, of course he knew that someone had claimed the seat of Lord Slytherin in the Wizengamot and the Goblins had been joyous at the opening of one of their cold vaults but to learn that it was his Defense Professor… and that he was the most disgusting kind of Halfblood as well. He felt foolish that he had harbored such envy for the Potter girl for being singled out by the man for tutelage now that he knew the truth. How shameful it would have been to try to pursue an Apprenticeship with the man and have to call him Master.
Ariana smirked as she read that thought from the surface of his mind; the irony of it was truly delicious but she had to refocus the conversation, "So what's it to be Mister Nott? Shall I teach you to be the Lord you're destined to be? Shall I set you on the path that will crush your enemies beneath your heel? Or are you going to walk away and watch as people like Longbottom and Potter lead the Isles towards the ignominy of Purebloods bowing to Mudbloods as if they were our equals?"
Brilliant blue eyes watched as emotions warred across the chiseled features of the teen, she didn't need to wield the tendrils of Legilimency that she was capable of to know what he was arguing with himself about.
She was a witch, or at least he thought she was one, as such he had been conditioned to believe that as dangerous and powerful as she was; she was ultimately inferior to him, fit only for bearing an heir and worth only the sum of her dowry. He had to work against a lifetime of programming which was why she couldn't just drop a compulsion charm into his subconscious, it went against his nature.
His decision however was always a foregone conclusion; he was a creature with wants and desires and she was handing him the key to them all. She could practically see his ego swelling at the prospect of taking his revenge and thus knew the moment he had taken the bait, hook and all.
"Alright Lady Sinclair, I'll bite. What do I need to know to be this leader that you envision? And what do I need to do to acquire those lessons?" Nott asked after he finished his deliberation and looked up at the woman on the desk with a wicked smirk and a devilish gleam in his eye.
"Nothing that you won't enjoy dear boy, nothing that you won't enjoy." Ariana answered his last question with a cruel smile of her own.
Author's Note: So this is being posted a week later than I intended but I also went on vacation to Las Vegas for a week so I figure I'm still roughly on schedule. As always I hope you all enjoyed the chapter so please leave your critiques and questions in the reviews or feel free to message them to me. Follows and favorites are likewise greatly appreciated.
Next Chapter: Samhain