Harry Potter
And The
Silver Bullet Faction
In our last chapter, Harry informed Dumbledore of Hermione's abduction. The headmaster contacted the Silver Bullet Faction, when even more bad news arose. Ron had pursued Hermione and her abductor, a strange boy, who turned out to be a vampire. An incredible showdown resulted, with Ron giving it everything he had. His efforts, however, were just not enough, and resulted in a painful death at the hands of Hermione's abductor. His valiant attempts in vain, it now looks as if Hermione's last chance is in Harry...
Chapter 7
The Legend of Multus.
"Hermione." He whispered, staring out into the night. He looked down at the ground stories below the window.
Nothing. The bushes rustled, like a rasping voice alongside the whistle that was the cool fall night's wind.
He could have sworn he'd heard her. But when he called out her name, he was met only with silence.
He was going to kill Garef for this. Him and all of his "minions". He'd never wanted to make someone pay so much. He never... ever... so badly wanted to hurt someone as he did now.
Harry... the bushes rustled again. The darkness beckoned him, the perfect time to do whatever he needed to, to take care of this whole problem, without being seen, or caught, or in trouble. But after Ron's disappearance, he wasn't so sure he could take on Voldemort, or Garef, or even that boy, for that matter. All he could do was hope that the faction could take care of this. After all, he was just a kid. He was still trying to contemplate how he had survived so many encounters with Voldemort. And Now he was even stronger. But Garef, at the time, seemed like an even greater nemesis.
Now he realized it. Like so many times before. Voldemort was luring him. This was a win-or-die game, Harry realized, and this time, neither of them was going to be arrogant.
"A problem, Harry?" A voice suddenly made him jump.
"Doctor string!" Harry turned around. "I didn't hear you enter."
"My apologies for scaring you, Harry. But I can see zat you are troubled. Can I help you?"
"I don't suppose you could find Ron or Hermione." Harry suggested.
"Ah, yes. I vish I could. But ve should leave zat to ze faction. Zey know vat ze are doing."
"Yeah, I know. But there isn't anything I can do. I'm so used to this kind of thing. Well, I mean, something happens every year, and..."
"I know. I have read of your exploits in ze Daily Prophet. But Zis is hundreds of times worse zan anything you have ever encountered. You must trust me."
"Yeah, I do." (Doctor String scoffed just slightly.) "So what's the lesson going to be about tomorrow?"
"Vell, vhy don't I show you? Were you about to go to sleep?"
"No."
"Vell, come to my office vith me. I think you vill find zis very interesting." Harry followed him out of the common room and down the corridor to the staircase. After a long walk to one of the dungeons, Harry walked into Dr. String's office.
"Take a seat, Harry. I vill be vith you in a moment." String turned around and Harry sat in a chair. Suddenly, the professor pulled out a large, dusty old book and opened it to a folded page. On the page was the picture of a bronze statue of a sideways eight, only broken on the left side. It seemed to course with green rings of light that showered sparks in the gap.
"What is... umm..."
"Zat, Harry, Zat is ze Multus. Only two have ever been made, and only one used. It is made vhen an incredibly powerful dying vizard or vitch gives all of his or her power to the sculpture of an infinite sign. It is powerless until it receives its power. However, it drains ze giver to his last breath."
"Wow. And what does it do?"
"Let me explain. Vhen ze vizard or vitch gives their power, zhey die, and a piece of ze statue dissolves, making it no longer infinite, but storing still incredible power. Vhen touched, it becomes stone. But ze power is given to whoever makes contact vith it. It can multiply your power, Harry, by a million times. And vith enough experience, you could defeat any vizard of power."
"Incredible! But, er, where are these? How do they know they even work?"
"Ze Ministry of Magic knew. Vhy, I do not know how, until it vas demonstrated."
"What... you mean?"
Professor String nodded.
"Who touched it?"
There was a long pause. String shut the book and began to pace. Finally, he spoke.
"Zhey did not vant him to touch it. But how could zhey stop him?"
"Who?"
"How do you think he is so powerful? He killed zhem all to get to it. Before they could stop him, he had taken all of zhe power. And now, he is looking for zhe other."
"Who?"
"The same man, Harry... who gave you zhat scar." Harry felt his spine tingle. String looked harshly at him, not even noticing his own expression.
"Do they know where the other one is?"
"No von does. But zhe know it exists. Like before, don't ask me to try to understand zhose ministry officials. Now! Off to bed vith you. And Harry, don't vorry. If anyvone knows vhat zhey are doing right now, it is zhe faction and Dumbledore."
"All right." Harry nodded, got up, and left.
* * *
"FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR OOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTTTTT!" CRUNCH!
"Wayne?"
"Ben?"
"What Just happened?"
"I dunno. Something fell in that dumpster over there. Something big. I... I think it was a person."
"What?" The man named Wayne peered ahead into the darkness. "Are you sure? It's in the open. There's no buildings near it."
"Let's take a look." Ben walked over and looked into the dumpster.
"What is..." He saw something stirring beneath the foul-smelling garbage.
"I think we'd better..."
"Can you give a man a hand?"
"Let's get out of here!" Ben jumped away and took off down the dimly lit street, followed by the man named Wayne.
"Ugh... exactly where am I... I didn't know Hogwarts had a dumpster..." The figure groaned.
Four fingers wrapped around the side of the dumpster, and a moment later, a tall man, only about twenty years old, pulled himself out. He was wearing a black leather jacket, old jeans, and ragged sneakers, all of which he was brushing garbage off of. He began to walk down the street, and even though several of the lamps on it were burnt out, for some odd reason, they seemed to light up once again as he passed.
* * *
Garef stared ahead, seemingly unaware of anything. It poured heavily outside, pattering loudly on the glass.
"Master Garef." A voice sounded. He was given no response.
"Master Garef!" The voice called louder this time.
"DON'T YOU EVER RAISE YOUR VOICE TO ME AGAIN! I DON'T CARE FOR WHAT REASON!" He boomed back.
"I'm very sorry, sir." The speaker suddenly became very stiff. "This is just, well, er, very important, sir."
"What, what, what is it?"
"Well, sir, we, uh, we got the girl."
"We?" Garef turned around and stared at the man. "We?"
"Er, Elliot did. He found her and brought her back."
Silence again.
"Why did Voldemort want the girl again, sir?"
"Very good question. And the answer is actually quite simple..."
"Yes sir?"
"TO GET HARRY TO COME AFTER HER AND HELP HER, SHERLOCK! NOW GET ME SOME MORE BRANDY! OR MAYBE WINE... OR SOMETHING, GET ME SOMETHING TO DRINK!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Oh, and do you want to know why we want Harry to come after her?"
"No, sir. I think I get the idea."
"Good. Now get out." Garef threw the goblet at him, which shattered all over the wall.
"We will kill Harry Potter." Garef growled. "And then we'll waste everyone in that school one, by one, until it is all ours. First, Hogwarts... and then, the world! AH, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA!"
"Uh, sir, pardon me, but here's your wine. Why are you laughing?" The man had returned.
"Oh, nothing. Now get out of my sight." Garef sighed.
* * *
"I wish so badly I could do something, Harry, but it just seems hopeless. All we can do is rely on the faction, now. They're better at this than I am, anyway." The twinkle seemed to have left Dumbledore's eyes.
"But, sir, what about all that time back? The pensieve! You versus Garef! Where was that big, white room? Maybe they're hiding out there!"
"That was an old muggle warehouse that a false raid had been called to. I had found out and gone ahead to warn them, but it was too late. Twenty-three men died that night, because of Garef's treachery."
"Oh, don't feel too bad about that. It didn't hurt too much." A voice said from the shadows. Dumbledore was immediately on his feet, wand ready in the air.
"Hey, chill out, chief." The man in the leather jacket and jeans stepped into the light.
"Hunt?" Dumbledore looked in surprise at the man.
"I am reading your mind... I am reading your mind... Oh, wait, I'm not psychic. What were you going to say?"
"Are you..."
"No! I'm not a vampire."
"How are you..."
"Strike two! Gotta ask faster!"
"I thought you were..."
"Strike three! Sure was, though. Came right back."
"Who is this?" Harry asked.
"Hunt was one of the raid members who died. But... ohhh. I see now." The twinkle seemed to return in his eyes.
"I think I know what you're thinking. Hey, Harry. The name's Ken Hunt. Been waiting to meet you for a long time." Hunt held out his hand, but as Harry reached out, he withdrew it. "Sorry. You don't want to know where that's been. Forgot."
"Been where... ooooh." Harry suddenly caught a rotten stench. "Er, sorry, but... were you in the garbage?"
"Yes, MOM, I was in the garbage." He growled. "Sorry. I get tired of being wrong."
"What's going on?" Harry asked.
"Hunt is... an angel."
"Ding, ding, tell him what he's won, Johnny!" Hunt laughed.
"An... an angel?"
"Yeah. You see, God usually sends us like, uh... how do I explain this to a kid... invisible, so we don't get in the way, and don't interfere with the test of belief and peoples lives and all... However, sometimes we need to make contact with people. He sent me to help you beat Garef. This is sort of a teamwork thing, and even you need a little help, you know."
"Yeah. But, er, where are, uh..."
"My wings? This mission will help me earn them."
"Why didn't he send a lot of reinforcements?"
"'Cause he knows that one is enough. Even in the darkest places, it only takes the slightest ray of hope, Harry, and good will overcome all."
"Wow. Quite inspiring."
"Thanks. Got it from a movie I saw once."
"Oh. Uh, why were you in garbage?"
"Harry, I learned a valuable lesson tonight. Always listen to God, and your superiors, too. You see, one of the head angels, he told me to take the subway to earth, but, uh... I sort of wanted to make a dramatic entrance. I want to jump down and land on my feet. Instead, I land in a dump."
"Oh, sorry."
"Don't be."
"Er, Mister Hunt."
"Call me Ken."
"Er, Ken."
"Yes?"
"Can you tell me if Ron and Hermione are all right?"
"Alas, I cannot. But, hey, I'm sure they're fine... hint, hint..."
"Uh, okay." Harry looked at him oddly.
"Harry, I believe it's best you don't ask him any questions about the future and such. He is actually not to divulge information." Dumbledore gave Hunt a sideways glance.
"But I'm sure Professor Trelawney would!" Hunt said enthusiastically. "Now, Harry, Professor Dumbledore and I need to talk. Why don't you go to bed? You need your rest. Unless there's a party in the common room. Then invite me."
"Sure." Harry laughed, and turned around.
"Oh, and Harry."
"Yes, Mister Ken?"
"Cut it with the Mister stuff. Unless circumstances arise, you will be the only student who can see and here me, got it?"
"Yes, er, Ken."
"MISTER Ken, to you."
"But you said..."
"I'm kidding. Go to bed."
"Good night, Harry." Dumbledore said.
"All right. Uh, Nice to meet you. Good night." Harry turned, and left Dumbledore's office.
* * *
"I've had it up to here!" Garef bellowed in the empty chamber. "I can't wait any longer!"
"Calm yourself, Garef." A raspy voice slipped forth from the shadows. "Soon, soon you will have your chance. Potter is not... as foolish as I would have hoped."
"You underestimate the boy. You never hoped. You thought."
"FOOL! NO ONE TALKS TO LORD VOLDEMORT LIKE THAT! NEVER!"
"Yeah, sure." Garef plopped down in his seat and drawled jokingly. "Next time I'll take a memo, dad."
"If your services weren't so important to me, I'd kill you!"
Oh, what the heck, just make him, Garef laughed to himself.
"Anyway, I haven't lost my interest in Potter, Garef. I've got important business elsewhere. But if you capture him, I want you to keep him safe, so that I may duel with him once more. I have acquired a new wand, so that Priori Incantatem is no longer effective."
"What'd ya do with the old one? Sell it for a nickel?"
"It so happens I keep it in a palace of mine, located in the Ethereal Realm!" Voldemort growled.
"Okay, okay, chill out." Garef muttered. "I promise I'll get Potter. Go do whatever you want. Visit Mount Rushmore, I don't care. I'll take care of things here."
"Whatever." Voldemort grunted, and disapperated.
"Send me postcards." Garef muttered. He sat back in his chair and stared outside. He saw thousands upon thousands of bats seemingly blocking out the moon. He seemed to enjoy the memories... carnage, destruction, the thrill of silently attacking and killing a hero... a girl shrieking in terror, with no one to aide her, or answer her final screams, or challenge him anymore. Then he got promoted, and now he has to sit behind the desk all day, directing troops, and without a hot secretary. Crimany, he missed the old days...
"You'll come sooner or later, Harry. And I'm not going to let Voldemort duel you. For what your great-great something or other grandfather did to my great half Uncle, I will make you pay. And then, maybe I'll kill that old fart, Voldemort. Heh."
"Garef!"
"Yeah?"
"The two children!"
"Who?"
"Harry's friends! It's time, I believe. Is it all right, sir?"
"Yeah, sure. Send them in."
Two shadows darkened the doorway. And in walked Hermione.
FOLLOWED BY RON.
"The goblet."
"Here, sir." The man handed them a goblet. Hermione recognized it.
"This, kiddies, is the cursed cup."
"It's actually called the..."
"Don't say it, man! These are kids!" Garef warned him silent.
"This, kids, will make you immortal. And all you have to do is get Harry here. What do you say?" Garef handed Ron the cup.
I don't believe it, Ron thought. Immortal? But they want Harry. And... He looked in the cup.
IMMORTALITY.
Ron held the cup in his hand, pondering. Then he squeezed. And it shattered.
"What? Why you little! You'll pay for that one!" Garef bellowed.
"I don't think so." Then he pulled out his wand. How he had gotten it back was a mystery to Hermione. "This isn't over just yet."
Is Garef mad to challenge Voldemort? Do we even care? And what about Ron? How did he survive getting his spine broken? Will Harry fall into the two dark entity's trap? Will he be able to stop them both in their tracks? Or will Ron have the opportunity to do that before him? Find out in the next action-packed chapter of Harry Potter and the Silver Bullet Faction!