Chapter 12
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, 6th August 2011
The office was quiet, not a sound to be heard. Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk. He looked at his blackened, shrivelled hand. The pieces of his plan were starting to settle into place. Almost everyone knew of their mission. Albus was deep in thought. Possible pathways Voldemort could take shot through his mind. His gaze travelled to the broken ring on a table a few feet from him. It was a Horcrux. He knew that much. But he needed to know everything. Harry needed to know everything. It was vital everyone's lives depended on it. Both magical and Muggle.
He had little time to put his plan into action. A year at most, was what Severus told him before the curse would kill him. Severus was aware of his role, the Unbreakable Vow he made with Narcissa binding him to help Draco to please Voldemort. In this case, it was to kill him. Harry was the only one that could take over the hunt after he was gone, but he needed the information first before he could track down the rest. As far as he was concerned, the diary and the ring were both destroyed. There were two more, Helga Hufflepuff's cup and Salazar Slytherin's locket. It was a memory he gained from Hepzibah Smith's house-elf, Hokey, that suggested Voldemort stole heirlooms. More research was needed. But would they have enough time?
Hopefully, Horace would reveal the true extent of the conversation. All he revealed seemed fuzzy. There was definitely more to his memories. How many Horcruxes had Voldemort created? There were more than one for definite, the ring was enough evidence of that. He thought of the classes he was going to assign to Harry during the year. He needed to know more about Voldemort, his origins. How Tom Riddle fell into the depths of the Dark Arts and became less than human. So much to do…
A quiet knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
"Come in," Albus smiled pleasantly as he pulled a toffee from the small glass bowl beside him. The door opened with a quiet creak and Severus walked in.
"Dumbledore, I have news," Severus spoke. His posture was stiff. Severus approached the headmaster.
"The Dark Lord is planning an attack within the year. He is rallying his forces, going back to his plan last year. Recruit everyone he can to his side."
"I was fearful of that," Albus said calmly. "It is only logical that he would try again. He may try and recruit more creatures. There have been rumoured sightings of Wraiths and Rugaru in the country recently."
"What?" Severus asked incredulously.
"There are more creatures out there than you are aware," Albus explained simply. "Things you cannot imagine. I fear Voldemort is trying to recruit these creatures for his army. By what you have just told me, it seems likely."
"What do we do?" Severus asked. "If these creatures turn to the Dark Lord's side, how will we stop him?"
"I have a plan. There are those out there that hunt these creatures. There are two of these hunters, known as the Winchesters. They are legendary amongst their profession. I am travelling to them soon. I am forming a new core subject: Demonology. My hope is for Sam and Dean to teach the students how to protect themselves in the very possible eventuality that Voldemort uses these creatures to his advantage."
"You are planning to bring Muggles to Hogwarts?" Severus asked with a shocked expression.
"Muggle or not, they are experts. And good people, I've heard."
"This is insanity."
"Would you rather the students be unable to defend themselves?" Albus asked simply. Severus flinched. He continued as if nothing had happened. "Severus, it is vital you remain ignorant when I announce this. There will be an Order meeting if the brothers agree, to announce the class. This conversation never occurred." Severus nodded in understanding. It was his place as an advisor to both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord.
"You must also feed this information to Voldemort," Albus told him.
"That would be setting ourselves for defeat!" Severus replied angrily.
"It may seem that way, but it is for your protection. How do you think Voldemort would react in three months if you were to not inform him of Muggle hunters that have come to work against him? He would start to question your loyalty."
"I understand," Severus cut him off sharply. "I must be getting back, Dumbledore."
"Indeed, safe travels Severus." He turned to leave. "Oh, and Severus?" he looked back to see Albus smile. "Thank you."
Severus left without another word.
Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England, 24th August 2010
The two men appeared out of nowhere, a few yards apart in the narrow, moonlit lane. For a second, they stood quite still, wands directed at each other's chests; then, recognizing each other, they stowed their wands beneath their cloaks and started walking briskly in the same direction. The lane was bordered on the left by wild, low-growing brambles, on the right by a high, neatly manicured hedge. The men's long cloaks flapped around their ankles as they marched.
They turned right, into a wide driveway that led off the lane. A wrought-iron gate impeded their progress. Neither of them broke stride as they marched toward the gate. In silence, both raised their left arms in a salute and passed straight through, as though the dark metal was made of smoke. Severus and Yaxley moved forward with an air of trepidation. A handsome manor house grew out of the darkness at the end of the straight drive. Severus and Yaxley sped toward the front door, which swung inward at their approach, though nobody had visibly opened it.
The hallway was large, dimly lit, and sumptuously decorated, with a magnificent carpet covering most of the stone floor. The eyes of the pale-faced portraits on the wall followed Severus and Yaxley as they strode past. The two men halted at a heavy wooden door leading into the next room, hesitated for the space of a heartbeat, then Severus turned the bronze handle.
The drawing-room was full of silent people, sitting at a long and ornate table. The room's usual furniture had been pushed carelessly up against the walls. Illumination came from a roaring fire beneath a handsome marble mantelpiece surmounted by a gilded mirror. Severus and Yaxley lingered for a moment on the threshold. Their eyes were drawn upward to the strangest feature of the scene: an apparently unconscious human figure hanging upside down over the table, revolving slowly as if suspended by an invisible rope and reflected in the mirror and the bare, polished surface of the table below. None of the people seated underneath this singular sight were looking at it except for a pale young man sitting almost directly below it. He seemed unable to prevent himself from glancing upward every minute or so.
"Yaxley. Snape," said a high, clear voice from the head of the table. The speaker's frame was silhouetted by the ominous glow from the fireplace. The two men had to get closer to make out smaller, snakelike details: the smooth hairless head, slits for nostrils, gleaming red eyes with vertical pupils, and skin that was so pale that he seemed to glow in the faint light. Lord Voldemort smiled; it was more of a cruel scowl.
"Severus sit here." He said, indicating the seat to his immediate right. "Yaxley, sit beside Dolohov."
They took their places as instructed. Yaxley was not very happy about it though, muttering something about being 'the master's favourite'. Severus moved to his chair and made no notice of Yaxley's displeasure. Except for Draco Malfoy, who was looking at his hands, everyone around the table looked to Severus. Voldemort spoke first
"So?"
"There are new additions to the staffing at Hogwarts," Severus said.
"If you are referring to that idiot Slughorn, I am aware of it." Voldemort dismissed him.
"No, my Lord, there is a whole new subject being introduced this year, it's mandatory to all students in the third year and above: Demonology."
An uneasy murmur ran through the group, demons were not ones to be trifled with. Voldemort leaned closer to Severus. "Go on Severus."
"The Headmaster has summoned two Muggle demon-hunting brothers from the United States to teach this new subject, the Winchesters. They have a very sordid past, murders, and arrests, to name a few. The headmaster wasn't very forthcoming with information on them."
"Well, well, this is an interesting development," Voldemort replied. "I have doubled my efforts to round up creatures that may give these brothers a challenge, and I am continuing to recruit. If Dumbledore is going to bring in more firepower, so should we."
"And it looks like you need my help." A voice rang through the hall. The group looked all around for the source of the voice. He had been lurking, invisible for quite some time, and in the past few moments, rage brewing. His hellhound had been circling the group, trying to find the weakest among them to start the carnage. It lingered on the stench of fear coming from a platinum blonde boy. The Winchesters, why in the bloody hell was it always them?! He took a calming breath and snapped his fingers.
"Hello," said a tall stranger from beside Voldemort's chair. They all turned to see a tall dark-haired man smirking at them. One of the wizards tried to draw their wand but with a flick of his hand, the wizard was sent flying and was pinned to the wall. "Oh, come now, those won't be necessary. As I said earlier, I am here to help you with the Potter situation. I think we can help each other."
"What could you possibly do?" Voldemort replied. "Who are you?"
"Name's Crowley. Former King of the Crossroads, now, King of Hell," Crowley replied with a smile. A large growl ripped through the air and several Death Eaters jumped, Crowley resisted the urge to smile at their reaction.
"My Hellhound. Nice huh?" Crowley grinned. "Sit!" he commanded, and the growling stopped. The boy sat still by his mother's side, but his eyes betrayed his fear.
"As I was saying, you can help me kill the pesky rodents that the Winchesters are, and I can help with that Potter kid you want dead too," Crowley noted.
"Why would you do that?" Voldemort replied in nothing but a snarl, detesting the arrival of a lesser being than he in his private meeting. The man looked to be easily dealt with, though the invisible beast he brought with him and how easily he pinned Dolohov certainly posed a problem.
"Relax. Just a simple proposition. I will help you kill the Potter kid if you help me with a plan of my own."
"What kind of plan?" Voldemort coldly said. He hid his interest in the demon's proposition. There was an advantage of having demonic forces as allies better than enemies. But if the old man has brought in hunters from America…
"I want to break open Purgatory. It holds all the monsters that have been killed. Vampires, Rugarus, Shapeshifters, Leviathan, Wendigos, the lot. I want their souls, so I can harvest their powers to fight our wars. I've acquired an Angel friend of the Winchesters that I am sharing my army with, so he can fight his side. Not only that, but I'll give you 1,500 souls to fight along with your army and to take over," Crowley explained. "Things even the Winchesters haven't seen before."
"I assume you want something in return," The Dark Lord drolled, musing now. What could this vermin want from him in exchange for his help?
"Just the Winchesters dead, everything will fall into place."
"Yes," Voldemort said, and his followers looked at him in shock.
"Master, you mustn't team up with this- this- thing," Bellatrix Lestrange exclaimed in outrage, getting to her feet and pointing her crooked wand at Crowley. The demon just smirked and blew her a kiss after winking at her. She was about to hit him with a curse, but Voldemort looked up at her with a cold stare.
"Silence Bella," Voldemort said with no emotion.
"It's a deal," Crowley said as he and the man disappeared.
"My Lord," said a dark woman halfway down the table, her voice constricted with emotion, "you must not do this." She sat beside her sister, as unlike her in looks, with her dark hair and heavily lidded eyes, as she was in bearing and demeanour, where Narcissa sat rigid and impassive. Bellatrix leaned toward Voldemort, for mere words could not demonstrate her longing for closeness.
"Bellatrix, I hear an event has taken place in your family this week?" Voldemort was furious with her for threatening his alliance with the demon, he decided she needed to be reminded of her place. She stared at him, her lips parted, evidently confused.
"I don't know what you mean, my Lord."
"I'm talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And yours, Lucius and Narcissa. She is becoming close to the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud; after all, in the future, there might be pups," Voldemort sneered. There was an eruption of laughter from around the table. Bellatrix's face, so recently flushed with happiness, turned an ugly, blotchy red.
"She is no niece of ours, my Lord," she cried over the outpouring of mirth. "We, Narcissa and I, have never set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood. This brat has nothing to do with either of us, nor any beast she is involved with."
"Enough," said Voldemort, an angry-sounding hiss grew louder, and a large snake coiled around the chair Voldemort was sitting in. He looked over to it as the snake came up to his eye level, he stroked it lovingly. "Enough." The laughter died at once.
"Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time," he decided that was punishment enough as Bellatrix gazed at him, breathless and imploring, "You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the health of the rest. It is exactly why Potter, and the Muggles must perish. They are a disgrace to us."
"Yes, my Lord," whispered Bellatrix, and her eyes swam with tears of gratitude again. "At the first chance!"
"You shall have it," said Voldemort. "And in your family, so in the world … we shall cut away the cancer that infects us until only those of the true blood remain …" Voldemort raised his wand and gave it a tiny flick. The figure that had been floating quietly above them came to life with a groan. "Do you recognize our guest, Severus?" asked Voldemort, with a sneer on his face. Severus raised his eyes to the upside-down face. As she revolved to face the firelight, the woman spoke in a cracked and terrified voice.
"Severus! Help me!"
"Ah, yes," said Severus coldly as the prisoner turned slowly away again.
"And you, Draco?" asked Voldemort, stroking Nagini's head with his wand-free hand. Draco shook his head jerkily, trying to hide the pure terror that he felt. Fear of his father's wrath if he misspoke or brought more shame to the family name. Fear of the beast who came in with the demon that Draco swore was right behind him when it growled. Most importantly, he feared the man at the head of the table who addressed him for the first time since the meeting began.
"But would you not have taken her classes?" said Voldemort coldly. Draco wanted to look away from his father's master but couldn't. An image of a mouse caught in a snake's grip entered his consciousness. Every cell in his body wanted to run from the room and never look back.
Voldemort mercifully looked away from Draco after the boy didn't answer the others around the table. "For those of you who do not know, we are joined here tonight by Charity Burbage who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Murmurs of disgust echoed down the table.
"Yes … Professor Burbage taught the children of witches and wizards all about Muggles … how they are not so different from us …" One of the Death Eaters spat on the floor. Charity Burbage revolved to face Severus again.
"Severus … please … please …"
"Silence," said Voldemort. There was no mistaking the anger and contempt in Voldemort's voice. For the third time, Charity Burbage revolved to face Severus. Tears were pouring from her eyes into her hair. Severus looked back at her, quite impassive, as she turned slowly away from him again.
"Avada Kedavra" The flash of green light illuminated every corner of the room. Charity fell, with a resounding crash, onto the table below, which trembled and creaked. Several of the Death Eaters leapt back in their chairs. Draco fell out of his, onto the floor.
"Dinner, Nagini," said Voldemort softly. "As for the Winchesters and Potter. They will die. We let the Winchesters live, for the time being… Let them try…"
⸸
"You're still helping the Winchesters. You hid it from me," Crowley accused. Both Angel and demon were standing in some run-down warehouse in the middle of Kansas somewhere.
"It was unavoidable," Castiel replied. Crowley rounded on him.
"You screwed up, Cas. That's a crock of shit, and you know it. You should have stopped them from playing wizards. We need Voldemort on our side. And besides, Eve is out there. We can get to Purgatory through her."
"What is your point?" the Angel interrupted.
"The point is…You're distracted, and that makes me nervous," Crowley said with a small air of unease.
"I am holding up my end," Castiel insisted, glaring at the demon's half-assed excuse.
"Ah, yes. But is that all you're holding? See…the stench of those two are all over your overcoat, Angel. I thought we'd agreed — no more nights out with the boys," Crowley chided. He was not stupid. He knew how much the Angel hung around with the Winchester brothers. Castiel was becoming more of a liability as time passed.
"I spoke with Dean. I needed to know how much they know."
"About what? About me, maybe? Forgive me, but I think you might have a little conflict of interest here," Crowley snapped. "In case you've forgotten, they think I'm dead. I'd like to keep it that way."
Crowley had a point, of course. Castiel's interest was conflicted. He still considered himself the Winchesters' guardian. After all, they taught him how to stand up… what to stand for… and what generally happens when you do. Castiel remembered the fight with Lucifer, being exploded into tiny chunks. He was…done. He was over. And then the most extraordinary thing happened. He was put back together. His second chance. And they had won. They had stopped Armageddon. But at the terrible cost of losing Sam Winchester.
Castiel didn't like the young man at first. He believed that Samuel was the man fated to bring on the Apocalypse. To his surprise, he found that Sam was kinder than he thought and cared about his brother more than anything else. Sam had made mistakes, and other Angels would surely have hated him for them, but Castiel came to realize that humans made mistakes. He watched as Dean tried to live a normal life after his brother's death, as he instructed him to, but the toll proved to be too great a price for him to pay.
Castiel knew what he had to do next. Once again, he went to the depths of Hell, to free Sam from Lucifer's Cage. The first time had been bad enough when he got the command from his Father to rescue Dean's soul before the breaking of the First Seal. Of course, he was too late, and Dean had given in to Alastair's torture. It was nearly impossible to rescue Sam, but he was so full of confidence, of the mission. He saw now that was arrogance… Because, of course, he hadn't truly raised Sam, not all of him. Just his body. He left his soul to rot with Michael and Lucifer. Dean was very angry with him, but he didn't understand the fragility of the soul… how… damaged it felt when he touched it…
"Please. I'm begging you, Castiel. Just kill the Winchesters," Crowley interrupted Castiel's thoughts. "It'll make things a whole lot easier. Having these wizards on our side will be an advantage."
"No," Castiel replied in a hard voice. Not after everything I have done to keep them alive. He added in his head.
"Fine. Then I'll do it myself." he shrugged.
"If you kill them, I'll just bring them back again," Castiel said determinedly. He wondered idly how much time Crowley would waste on the pointless exercise.
"No, you won't. Not where I'll put 'em. Trust me," the King of Hell replied, confident that the Angel wouldn't want to play games with him.
"I said… No. Don't worry about them," Castiel insisted.
"Don't worry? Like Lucifer didn't worry? Or Michael? Or Lilith or Alastair or Azazel didn't worry?! Am I the only game piece on the board who doesn't underestimate those denim-wrapped nightmares?!" Crowley exclaimed.
"Just find Purgatory. If you don't, we will both die again and again, until the end of time. The Winchesters won't get to you," Castiel assured. "They are busy." Out of the way….
"Working against me! Let them get to me! I'll tear their friggin' hearts out!" Crowley exploded. "You don't think I know what this is all about?" He added flippantly.
"Enlighten me," the Angel replied, emotionless.
"The big lie. The Winchesters still buy it," Crowley mused. "The good Cas, the righteous Cas. And, as long as they still believe it, you get to believe it. Well, I got news for you, kitten. A whore is a whore is a whore."
Cas slammed Crowley against the filthy wall, glowing blue eyes glaring into the demon's, which turned red from anger. The room was deadly quiet for a moment as the two beings measured each other's strength.
"I'm only gonna say this once. If you touch a hair on their heads, I will tear it all down. Our arrangement - everything. I'm still an Angel, and I will bury you." he snarled.
"This is NOT how synergy works!" Crowley yelled.
"I don't care! Do not hurt them," Castiel repeated his warning, his voice just as aggressive as the first time he said it. His eyes seemed to glow white with anger. The emotion of protectiveness was growing. He let the demon go, and with a flutter of invisible wings, the Angel was gone.