Chapter-6 Hate
8:00AM, 27th October 1994, Riddle Manor, Little Hangleton
Lord Voldemort was growing restless. He had only three of his followers with him. The Goblet had yet to arrive at Hogwarts.
Wormtail was unable to leave as he was taking care of his lord and Nagini. Crouch Junior was at Hogwarts impersonating Mad-Eye and Rookwood was searching for a custom wand crafter for him.
His yew wand while strong wasn't a perfect match for him and hence the need for a wand crafter. But that wasn't his main focus.
It was something which he had tried to deny ever since he was a child but in the end it was a something which had saved his life even with his anchors.
When he had studied about Horcrux, he had chosen this method of immortality rather than trying to steal the stone which gave the elixir of life, which as long as Flamel was alive he knew he couldn't steal. When he had made his first horcrux and died as a trial run he finally realized what he had done. Horcrux allowed one's soul to stay on the mortal plane but had two major flaw.
The first, the soul remained in the container itself irrespective of the fact how many made. Unable to go anywhere left to a place where someone may or mayn't find him. Given the places he had chosen to hide his items, it was unlikely.
The second flaw, was that irrespective of how many times one chose to split their soul, let it be once or twice or even a hundred times, all split would go to the first item which was used as a horcrux. In his case, the diary.
But unlike most cases, his heritage gave a small advantage which outweighed the negatives. Granted he didn't know about it until he was hit by his rebounded curse but still.
The seven split souls became two split souls. The one in the diary and the other with him when he was a mere wraith.
It was then he realized how lucky he was to still roam the world. His heritage which he had hated with every fiber of his being was the one thing which saved him.
He, Lord Voldemort the Heir of Slytherin, was a shade.
He regrettably didn't know much about it. His mother's family grimoire hadn't given much except that it came into the family in 1546 when a witch named Morag Winters married into the Gaunt family. She had the dormant shade gene which simply gave her control over shadow magic and fire magic.
It did explain much about his power. As a complete shade, his control over shadow and fire magic was fearsome. His control over Fiendfyre and shadow magic was unmatched by everyone.
But that was all he knew. He had to know more about his heritage. He had Rookwood deliver the Winters family tree to him. The family had been well-known for having strong shades, even the dormant shades were strong. But alas, the line had died out in 1678 merging with one of the Sacred 28, the Greengrass family. As such when Wormtail would be free by what he estimated, tomorrow evening then he would send the cowardly rat to hit the family manor.
The cowardly rat had a vial of blood of a Greengrass which allowed him access to the Greengrass manor even though he had no other way. It was a small loophole present in his family Grimoire to bypass blood wards.
As long as a person had blood of a family's person, deceased or alive, they could bypass the wards. The old families, all of them, had blood wards and as such allowed Wormtail access.
Voldemort had need of one last thing before he could do have his body again. The Greengrass Grimoire would be his!
XX
8:00AM, 27th October 1994, Nightmare HQ
General William Fitzgerald stood to the right of the commander as he examined Nathan's body. He was surprised by the language written on it but when the boss had screamed he knew it wasn't good.
He had refused to speak as to what it was. They were examining Nathan's body. Even he could see that Nathan was outclassed, badly. The broken bones, bruises and the burn marks.
Even with illusions or constructs, Nathan was defeated badly. And the amount of stab wounds he had, he guessed that someone had summoned about…40 or so knives and stabbed him catching him off guard.
But strangely enough he knew of a spell that summoned daggers or knives imbued with dark magic that pierced the body. He had used it a few times and every time it left some dark magical residue, always. It was a fact irrespective if the magic was done with or without a wand.
The magic emitted by those wounds were pleasant. Will was surprised that it was pleasant, calming even. It was almost like it was given out by a fa-
"General Fitzgerald!"
He was slightly startled by the call but responded immediately," Sir!"
The commander handed him a sheet of paper and said," Eliminate them. You have two weeks, dismissed."
He took the sheet of paper and said," Yes, Commander."
With that he headed towards the armory reading the long list of names. He was surprised that the commander wanted these people dead. The death eaters whose main time of activity was in the 1970s so the question arises as to why would the commander want to eliminate them now.
He scratched his face with a frown. As he thought about it. Nathan's body had arrived with words written on it which no one could read except, from what he derived from the facial expressions, the commander.
And then he realized. Voldemort. If the commander wanted the death eaters dead then that would mean that Lord Voldemort was an enemy of Nightmare.
Then the language carved in Nathan's body would be serpent-tongue. The new question would be how could the Commander read that language?
The Commander was a serpent-speaker!
That realization shocked him. But he frowned again. Where did the commander get his trait from? Did the commander do some ritual or was sit hereditary?
He groaned in annoyance and turned his way towards Gary. He had men to kill and research to do.
But nowhere near enough time to do both.
XX
8:00AM, 27th October 1994, Great Hall, Hogwarts, Scotland
Sofia made her way towards the Great Hall followed by her guard. She had to meet with those two blonde heiress at 6:00PM tomorrow and frankly she didn't know what to do.
She had to make an impression and she didn't know how to do that. She groaned in annoyance not sure what to do.
She looked back at her guard who was walking straight with a bored expression. She didn't really know enough about pure-blood customs and if her guard knew about it then her life would be easier. With that thought in mind she asked," Do you know pure-blood customs?"
He looked at her and nodded. She sighed in relief and asked," Can you teach me?"
Paper conjured in her hand and she read it.
250 galleons.
Her eyes widened and she exclaimed in a whisper," That's too much!"
He raised an eyebrow but otherwise he remained unconcerned by the outburst. The paper in her hand scribbled and she looked at it.
120 galleons for your dress and then some.
She huffed but noddedher head. Honestly she didn't have a choice and the money wasn't really an issue. It was the fact that she hadn't seen him do anything worthwhile.
Sure, he threw the blonde boy across the hall and conjured enough granite to fill a class but except that she knew next to nothing and he had done nothing to prove that he was even remotely strong.
For all she knows, that show could have taken a lot out of him. She shook her head and entered the hall and made her way towards the Slytherin table.
She paused with a surprised look on her face. The two blondes wanting to form an alliance with her were looking gob smacked. At what she didn't know nor did she care. She followed their gaze and raised an eyebrow.
There was a guy kissing a girl at the…Ravenclaw, she guessed, table. From what she remembered she was one of the five students who attended the advanced classes of Hogwarts.
…
She flinched as did all the students present in the great hall. She didn't know why or cared but she didn't like it. It was just…hate. There was really nothing else to describe it with.
The aura was over-powering and dark. As a student of a school which taught the Dark Arts that was saying a lot. She tried to channel her magic to stop it yet she couldn't.
She sparred a glance at her guard and their eyes met. Hollow eyes met black.
And then it happened. The over-powering aura disappeared as soon as it had appeared. Hunt's head tilted but their eyes kept locked for just a moment before he broke contact.
But it was enough for Sofia. That one moment their eyes had locked was enough for her to get a glimpse at the real person behind the mask that Hunt wore.
She shivered but quickly slammed down her occlumency shields. She didn't know if to be glad or terrified of the fact that he was her guard.
She flinched despite herself at the thought. She didn't want to get on the bad side of her guard.
XX
8:10AM, 27th October 1994, Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts, Scotland
Albus Dumbledore could rarely be seen surprised anymore. Except his ex-friend turned Dark Lord, Tom Riddle or his brother no one had really seen him surprised.
But right now was a rare moment when he was. He had felt it. The abhorrent feeling of hate that had invaded Hogwarts wasn't something he had ever felt.
But hate wasn't the only thing that had invaded this old castle. Being the Headmaster of Hogwarts was more than just managing the school.
The headmaster, all of them, were powerful even if not intelligent. It was a necessity, after all, only a strong wizard or witch could hold this position that could teach, do magic and power the castle wards.
The ginormous amount of magic that had entered Hogwarts had charged up the wards and his magical core.
He was feeling stronger and healthier than usual. Something which shouldn't be possible since he had begun powering the wards.
He turned around looking at the chimney and turned the purple crystal vase to his left.
The wall disappeared immediately and instead there was a room made of stone in the middle in a cylindrical light as a ward-stone. He heard multiple portraits of the older headmasters gasp but he paid them no heed. He heard his familiar, Fawkes chirping and he smiled back at the fire bird.
He turned his gaze at the most powerful ward-stone made in the complete continent of Eurasia.
Crafted by two of the founders, Salazar and Rowena, with one of the most magically powerful and lost to history to how to be made, Elven Titanium.
It had enough strength to charge fifteen Gringotts simultaneously while being overused. That wasn't what had his main attention. He took out his wand, his original wand custom made specifically for him and scanned the ward-stone.
Albus' eyes widened at what the scan revealed. All of Hogwarts, all 234 wards of Hogwarts powered by three ward-stones, all added in different times, were super-charged. They had excess magic flowing through them and enough to keep it powered up for another decade.
He looked at the ward-stone and was relieved that the magic wasn't activated. If it had then all of Durmstrang and most of the post-OWL students of Slytherin. The simple use of dark magic was strictly banned during the 1200s only being practiced with families and all that. Even Salazar had practiced in the then fabled and the now proved to exist Chambers of Secrets.
But two things were clear. One, an heir of the founder, discounting Emily Potter, had returned to Hogwarts. The second, whoever the heir was had launched the strong wave of hate and magic.
He looked at Fawkes who chirped and he smiled as he petted the bird," I am getting old for this."
He had enough on his plate what with the Tournament, ICW case of Giovanna Zabini, emergence of Nightmares and the imminent return of Voldemort (As shown by the darkening mark on Snape's arm). He didn't need more.
XX
9:00PM, 27th October 1994, Durmstrang's Ship, Black Lake, Hogwarts, Scotland
He stood opposite his ward gave him a kiss on the cheek but he definitely felt the hesitance in the action. He understood her because by what she had gotten a glimpse of today he was surprised she hadn't already broken up with him, even if the relationship was for pretend. He didn't miss the jealous looks and glares he was subjected from the boys but since the last time he had beat them. He turned his head to the left noticing the look of anger loathing and most importantly dislike on the face of one Viktor Krum.
He smirked amused and lifted his left hand and twisted it slightly. His hand caught on fire with brilliant green flames.
He snorted as all of the students scrambled to their ways to their rooms. As soon as he was sure no one was outside and in their rooms, using his senses, he snarled as he turned around and punched the wall he was leaning on.
He had let go of his hatred and let the school be subjected to it. He wasn't blind to his actions and as such could assume the consequences. He was certain of two things: the wards were super-charged and every adult, above at least 21, had felt that wave of magic and his aura which meant Dumbledore knew.
He cursed himself for his mistake. It was moment like these he disliked his luck. It was now he realized why his anger wasn't to be directed at Ilene. She usually help keep him in control. He closed his eyes and breathed.
Breath in…breath out…breath in…breath out.
He repeated the process a few more times. A few minutes later he sighed as he succumbed to the ground. He grimaced.
He had fucked up. Bad. His magical signature would be all over the place which would make Dumbledore suspicious of him and most probably from now he would be under heavy scrutiny.
He growled as he cursed his temper. This was something that needed rectifying and he had been unable to do so fast enough. Only when his eyes had locked with his ward's only then had he really snapped out of his hate-filled state.
As soon as he had snapped out he had sucked up all the magic out of the castle and wiped out his magical signature. Even then it has caused the wards to be super-charged and luckily they were deactivated because they were active all of Durmstrang, him and half of the tainted upper-years of Slytherin would have died because of the use of dark arts.
He regretted lashing out on Ilene. She would have reacted faster and stopped him. He needed better control on his aura. Even after almost 8 years, he still could barely control his aura. It was shameful!
He had gotten all his skills of Alvis, Kael, Keres and Draven under control in under 4 years. This one ability, dubbed by him as Hate Pressure, was the only one he couldn't control properly. It was a powerful ability and he had only gotten it down by, what he estimated was, 10%.
He sighed as he stood up from his grouching position and standing guard in front of his ward's room.
XX
10:00PM, 27th October 1994, Great Hall, Hogwarts, Scotland
Blaise Zabini sat on his bed with a crumpled letter held tightly in his fist. Perhaps for the first time he had actually appreciated the fact that the students of the house of snakes were given private rooms. Tears streamed down his face. The seal of the letter had fallen to the ground.
It was white but in big black letters were written three words which let Blaise know what the matter was without even reading the letter. The words were:
ICW
He knew who had sent the letter, his mother, Giovanna Zabini the infamous Spider. Blaise's mother had sent that letter, her contacts and blackmail allowed her to do what she wished even when she was in the world's most highly guarded place. His mother had told him that she was well and alive even if her left leg was gone, torn apart by someone named The Ghost. He growled, whoever the bastard was, he was a coward.
Giovanna Zabini, who had trained The Ghost, had been faced off against him where he had torn her leg apart and stabbed her in the eye but before he could kill her Giovanna had escaped only to be captured by an ICW War Mage. She had only escaped the mercenary because she was older, experienced and as she was his mentor had known his battle style which had helped her to escape. He had let her go but even Blaise knew without a leg and an eye Giovanna Zabini couldn't do much.
Her mother had written the letter saying that she would escape from the ICW holding cell and would be waiting in the Zabini Manor in Italy. But even then his mother had admired The Ghost whoever that person was.
Blaise growled in anger and stood up. Whoever this person was had not only studied under his mom but also beat her in combat. Something he had never been able to do. Whoever this person was he was very strong. And at the current level he was at, an average fourth year, he would never beat that person. Every time he had fought his mother he had seen clear disappointment and sadness in them.
At that moment, Blaise Zabini took an oath. An oath to hunt down the man who had torn apart his mother's leg and eye and to make this man suffer.
XX
Author's Note: Read and Review. Updates will be slower as my classes have resumed. I'll try to update every Tuesday but I give no guarantee. Thank You. I had exams and I wasn't satisfied with the chapter so Chapter 5 and 6 were rewritten.
Ages of Characters-
Alexandra, Estella, Emily, Daphne, Susan and Chase- 14
Sofia, Fleur, Viktor and other delegates of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons- 17
Dumbledore- 153 Madam Maxine- 57 High-Master Karkaroff- 49 Arcturus Black- 97
James, Lily, Sirius, Remus and Sirius' Wife-34