Harry Potter, the order of the Phoenix, and the DarkChilde
Author's note: LordGrise suggested the extra emphasis on Grigori Rasputin and I think that will end up giving the story some additional plot elements and oomph as my Father liked to say. Part of this chapter is taken from chapter twelve of the book (one must always give credit to the actual author after all as J.K. Rowling is so very much the master of good writing). What is my intent on this story? The truth is I don't really know, like so many of my tales. I tend to inject Illyana into a story and see what happens. I have no intention of having her replace Harry but adding Illyana does tend to alter things, see my Star Wars story for example (Dark Lord Of A Different Kind). And of course I urge you to read the actual books if you have not,
Part 3a: Class 2, Potions
Potions was downstairs in what was commonalty referred to as Snape's dungeon, one theory was that potions class was underground to better control any explosions; which was daft according to some as you wanted windows to help vent the sudden release of gasses, explosive or otherwise. The other theory, completely false, was that Professor Snape was a vampire and could not stand direct sunlight, after all, most students could almost remember a time where they had seen him exposed to direct sunlight, almost but… could never quite pinpoint it.
The door to the classroom had opened with the usual creaking sound. Ron, Harry, and Hermione had entered and took their usual table at the back of the classroom, Harry was sitting between Ron and Hermione. The Rasputin girl, with her dragon, choose to sit at a table in the front, again all by herself, the dragon setting on the chair to her left.
"Settle down." Said Snape coldly, shutting the door behind him with a flick of his wand after the last student had entered.
There was no real need for the call to order, the moment the class had heard the door close, quiet had fallen and all fidgeting stopped. Snapes's mere presence was usually enough to ensure a class's silence.
"Before we begin today's lesson," said Snape in his dry and vaguely disapproving tone, sweeping over to his desk and staring at them all. "First… a welcome to our new student Miss Rasputin." A bit of a disapproving look at the dragon next to her. "And a reminder that student's animals are not generally permitted in class. Second… I think it is appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting at an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'acceptable' in your O.W.L, or suffer my… displeasure"
His gaze lingered this time upon Neville, who gulped.
"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T Potions class, with means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye."
His eyes rested on Harry and his lip curled. Harry glared back, feeling a grim pleasure at the idea that he would be able to give up Potions after fifth year.
"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell." said Snape softly, "so whether you are intending to attempt N.E.W.T or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high level I have come to expect from my O.W.L students."
"Today we are mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: If you are too heavy handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing."
On Harry's left, Hermione set up a little straighter, her expression one of the utmost attentiveness. Likewise did the Rasputin girl.
"The ingredients and method." Snape flicked his wand. "Are on the blackboard." -The instructions appeared there- "You will find everything you need." He flicked his wand again. "In the store cupboard." -The door of said cupboard sprang open-
"You have…. wait one moment…" Snape looked about the room, then."Granger, kindly sit with Rasputin and assist her."
Looks all round by the various students and then Hermione got up and made her way to the chair on the Rasputin girl's right hand side. She wanted to ask why, but Professor Snape was not known for indulging students.
Snape continued once Hermione was seated. "You have an hour and a half… Start."
Snape could hardly have set the class with a more difficult, fiddly potion. The ingredients had to be added to the cauldron in precisely the right order and quantities; the mixture had to be stirred exactly the right number of times, firstly in a clockwise, then in counterclockwise directions; the heat of the flames on with it was simmering had to be lowered exactly the right level for a specific number of minutes before the final ingredient was added.
The class learned, those who snuck a peek that is, that the Rasputin girl had a most unusual wand, in that it was like miniature crystal sword; which was most strange as all wands were supposed to be wood.
"A light silver vapor should now be raising from your potion," called Snape, with ten minutes left to go.
Harry, who was sweating profusely, looked desperately around the dungeon. His own cauldron was issuing copious amounts of dark grey steam; Ron's was spitting green sparks. Seamus was feverishly prodding the flames at the base of his cauldron with the tip of his wand, as they had gone out. A look at the front to the room showed that Hermione's potion, however, was simmering a mist of silver vapor, and its twin, though a bit less shimmery, was Rasputin's as well; and as Snape swept by he looked down with his hooked nose it without comment, which meant that he could find nothing to criticize. At Harry's cauldron, however, Snape stopped, looking down at Harry with a horrible smirk on his face.
"Potter, what is this supposed to be?"
The Slytherins all looked up eagerly; they loved to hear Snape taunt Harry. Only much later did Harry recall that the Rasputin girl had not laughed.
"The Drought of Peace," said Harry tensely.
"Tell me, Potter," said Snape softly, "can you read?"
Draco Malfoy laughed.
"Yes, I can," said Harry, his fingers clenched tightly around his wand.
"Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter."
Harry squinted at the blackboard; it was not easy to make out the instructions through the haze of multicolored steam now filling the dungeon.
"Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counterclockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes, then add two drops of syrup of hellebore."
His heart sank. He had not added syrup of hellebore, and had proceeded straight to the fourth line of the instructions after allowing his potion to simmer for seven minutes.
"Did you do everything on the third line Potter?"
"No," said Harry very quietly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"No," said harry, more loudly. "I forgot the hellebore…"
"I know you did, Potter, which means that his mess is utterly worthless. Evanesco."
The contents of Harry's potion vanished; eh was left standing foolishly beside an empty cauldron.
"Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it to my desk for testing," said Snape. "Homework: Twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its use in potion making, to the handed in next class."
While everyone around him filled their flagons, Harry cleared away his things, seething. His potion had been no worse then Ron's, which was now giving off a foul odor of bad eggs, or Neville's, which had achieved the consistency of just-mixed cement and which Neville was now having to gouge out of his cauldron, but it was he, Harry, who would be receiving zero marks for the day's work.
When at long last, or so it seemed, Harry was first out of the dungeon and had already started his lunch by the time Ron and Hermione joined him in the Great Hall. Hermione felt that Snape has been quite unfair to Harry, why… Goyle's potion has shattered his flagon and set his robes on fire and yet he had still been allowed to turn in a sample.
"Oye… you helped the new girl good." Complained Ron at Hermione as he took a large bite of steak pie. "So kdnd ogg gyu." Was the follow up statement, not that it was very discernable as Ron had quite the full mouth.
The new girl in question was like wise seated in the Great Hall having lunch. She was by herself with only her small purple dragon for a companion. It looked like she was having a bowl of something with black bread while the dragon was gnawing upon the remains of what had been a thick pork chop.
Hermione had a small thoughtful frown. "I didn't, not really. She really is good, it was a bit weird though."
"How so?" Asked Harry as he took a savage bite of his lamb sandwich.
"I would swear that she almost kept forgetting to use her wand, instead she would start to wave her fingers over the brew before then using her wand."
"Weird wand that." Stated Ron after a mighty swallow. "Never see one that was not made of wood." Then another mouth filling bite.
A statement that just continued to make Hermione frown. "That… is strange, all that I've read of involving wandlore should make such a wand impossible. There's no living component to it. And it looks like a tiny sword up close, even has a small cross guard."
"Unless that component is somehow embedded in the crystal. How transparent was it? Could you see anything in the crystal?" Asked Harry, the question of the wand being a welcome distraction to his angst. "I wonder who made it?"
Wands were what made members of the wizarding world different from other magical entities as wands allowed a witch or wizard to channels his or her magic. A wand is a quasi-sentient magical instrument through which a witch or wizard channels her or his magical powers to centralize the effects for more complex results. Most spells are cast with the aid of wands, but spells can be cast without the use of wands. Wandless magic is, however, very difficult and requires much concentration and incredible skill; advanced wizards and some magical creatures such as house elves are known to perform such magic. Each wand consists of a specific type of wood that surrounds a core of magical substance. Although the wand cores may come from the same creature, or the wood may come from the same tree, no two existing wands are exactly alike. Magic with a wand is usually performed with an incantation, but more experienced wizards can cast nonverbal spells, which conceal the spell until cast and may thereby prevent an opponent from adequately protecting him or herself in time. Wands are referred to as "quasi-sentient" because their being imbued with a great deal of magic makes them as animate as an inanimate object can be.
Hermione started to reply. "No, it's clear but you can't see through it for some reason and… well… that's interesting."
"Waatt?" Was Ron's food muffled response.
Hermione pointed with her eyes and a slight nudge of her head in the direction of the new girl. Fugitive glances from the three revealed that Draco and his crew had gathered by where the new girl was eating. Draco has seated himself opposite her. Behind him was two main members of the Draco crew, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.
BEGIN INTERLUDE
Draco Malfoy what you could call a crew or gang. They were all in Slytherin and were either the children of Death Eaters or Voldermort sympathizers. Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy was a wealthy pure blood and had been a very prominent Death Eater before the defeat of Voldermort.
This gang generally used their abilities and statuses to bully and terrorize the other students of different houses at Hogwarts, especially the younger students. Draco and his gang frequently antagonized Harry Potter and his friends. Their main target of hatred were Muggle-borns and Blood traitors (pure bloods who did not believe that being a pure blood granted any special status and associated with 'shudder' muggle borns known as mud bloods).
Main members were:
Draco Malfoy (now a Prefect like Ron and Hermione)
Vincent Crabbe
Gregory Goyle
Pansy Parkinson (Also a Prefect)
Millicent Bulstrode
END INTERLUDE
"Like attracting like." Muttered Ron. "Guess Rasputin name trumps pure blood bigotry. Bet Daddy told him to reel her in."
"She's in Slytherin, that says it all." Sniffed Hermione, then a sudden realization. "I bet the Death Eaters would love to recruit her."
"Well, it doesn't look like it's going well." Observed Harry as Illyana made a curt gesture that clearly indicated that Vincent and Gregory should depart. Apparently Draco made some comment and his two cronies departed with a bit of a glare at Illyana as they departed out of earshot.
The Gryffindor three silently eat their lunch while covertly observing the little meeting. Droco's back was to them so they could only see the face of Illyana who mostly just appeared to consume what appeared to be some kind of thick soup using a spoon and sometimes a bit of black bread while listening, interestingly the dragon also appeared to be listening. Once Draco was done she made some kind of comment that appeared to bother Draco if his body language, and scowl, was any indication as he got up and walked away to rejoin his companions, but he pause and then said something loudly enough for them to overhead, like he wanted folks to know.
"Think about it. After all, it's not like anybody else here will be your friend. And you'll need friends."
Lunch soon ended and it was time for the next class, Defense against the dark arts.
Part 3b: Meanwhile in Russia (not the funny videos on youtube)
Two men sat in a small office with no windows, one was a very old man who was behind a desk in an old but comfortable black leather chair, the other man, who looked to be in his mid thirties, likewise sat in a similar chair in front of the desk. The walls were covered in bookshelves holding old books. . The older man gave a snort of disgust and tossed a newspaper to the younger man, which was the Russia Magical communities version of England's Daily Prophet; by Russians and for Russians. But it shared the propensity of such publications for sales driven sensationalism.
Return of Rasputin?!
Followed by a great literary quantity of writing that contained only one actual fact that the younger man was able to gleam from the articles. A fact that he phrased as a question.
"A female student claiming to be a decent of Rasputin is enrolled at Hogwarts?"
A question answered by the older man. "Yes Dimitri, so it would appear."
"And the old palace? The… staircase?"
A scowl of a response from the older man. "The silent staircase remains as it was."
A slight shudder from who we now know as Dimitri. "I do not envy the wardens tonight."
"Nor I."
"But… can this possible be true? All the Rasputin line were slain. Or… so I was told."
A grim tone from the older man. "So it was, so they are. This… child cannot possible be of the line. Yet…"
Dimitri finished. "Things recounted and recorded are not always what actually took place. If she is an actual Rasputin then…"
The old man concluded. "It may begin again."
A sigh as the older man extracts a wand from his suit. A few flicks of the wand and a book floats from a shelf and lands on the desk before Dimitri who opens it to find naught but blank pages.
A questioning look from Dimitri causes the older man to twirl the wand a few times, press it to his right temple, and when the wand was pulled back it had a glowing dot of light. A further flick of the wand and the dot of light raced across the desk and struck the supposed Dimitri with a burst of light that left him glowing for a moment.
Then… words flowed across the page of the book that Dimitri was on as understanding bloomed in his mind. "Ahh… truly eyes only I see."
"Yes… if stolen the knowledge is still not extractable unless granted access by one who has access."
With that Dimitri began to read of the House of Rasputin, as recorded by the secret organization called Spectre. A most dark history of the Rasputins, their deeds, and their downfall. And the roll Spectre played in that downfall.
