Disclaimer: Azkaban, Professor
Dumbledore and all references to Hogwarts are very
probably the property of those *delightful* people at
Warner Brothers by way of the inimitable J K Rowling. I
am not making a penny from using them as the backdrop to
a story written for my own amusement and that (hopefully!)
of others. So there.
email
me at Sarah.Watkins@onyx.net
Shadow of a Doubt
Chapter Ten: Backfire
Author's
Explanation: See the Prologue, Innocence Under Fire.
Author's
Apology: I'm SOOOO sorry it's been so long since
chapter nine. Real Life(tm) has a nasty habit of kicking
in at the most annoying moments. To all of you who
emailed me nagging me to get the next chapter written, I
hope you enjoy it!
~ ~ ~
"Some of this work,"
said Professor Grimalkin, handing out the marked essays,
"was exemplary. Well done." He smiled at
Hermione who flushed with pleasure. "Miss Granger
particularly seems to have an excellent grasp of the
subject of elementals, as does, I'm equally delighted to
report, Mr Longbottom."
There was a collective gasp
of surprise. Neville had never been singled out in a
Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson that any of the
Gryffindors could remember. But since Professor
Grimalkin's first class, when he had conjured the little
Neville illusion, the boy had blossomed. The Gryffindors
had developed a soft spot for Anders based on this fact
alone.
A roar from the back of the
classroom caused the students to jump. Anders quirked one
dark eyebrow and smiled wryly. "The fella's
impatient," he said. "That," he added,
almost nonchalantly, as he began to cross the room,
"is a fire demon. One of a very few that have been
raised in captivity. We are fortunate indeed that the
Ministry of Magic saw fit to spare it for your studies."
There was a faint note of sarcasm in his voice, and
seeing the look of puzzlement that crossed everyone's
face, he explained further.
"Elemental spirits such
as this fire demon need to grow and learn even as you do.
Although they're generally spared the homework, I believe."
There was a somewhat nervous ripple of laughter. Anders
smiled warmly at his class. "This one was summoned
very early on its existence by a wizard who held it
captive. It was later turned over to the Ministry of
Magic for containment. All the time it is enslaved and
held captive in its 'prison', it is virtually harmless."
"Sir?"
"Yes, Neville?"
"What happened to the
wizard that had the demon captive?" Neville's round
face was rapt, intent on listening to Anders' every word.
The young Professor sighed.
"It wasn't pretty, let's
leave it there," he replied, softly. "The demon
escaped from its bindings and wreaked rather a lot of
havoc before it was contained again."
The class shuffled their
chairs a little further from the demon.
Anders shook his head again.
He muttered, 'Lumos' under his breath, and a soft glow
illuminated the corner. The entity that stood, encased in
a cage seemingly constructed from little other than
spider thread was truly awful to behold.
It was tall and lanky,
towering over the 6'4" Professor, who looked up at
it mildly. It was apparently constructed completely from
living flame. Sinewy arms reached out, grasping for
Anders as he approached, and the look of sheer
malevolence in the thing's burning red eyes spoke of the
unspeakable horrors it would work on the Professor should
it have the opportunity.
Harry was filled with an
almost desperate urge to warn the Professor not to go any
closer. That thing had death in its eyes. It saw Anders
as the reason it was encased in its weird cage and wanted
revenge. But the young man seemed remarkably cool about
the situation.
"The cage is constructed
from Aquanoleum," said Anders, looking as though he
was totally unaware of the glowing hatred in the demon's
face. "Aquanoleum is a physical manifestation of a
water spell, woven into threads that bind together in a
web to prevent the fire demon from acting. Remember what
I told you about counteracting elemental spells? Those of
you who..." He swallowed. "...who saw Professor
Snape and I duelling will have seen the effect water
spells had on fire spells."
His eyes looked up and met
the demons briefly and he sighed. "I do not
personally like to see such entities imprisoned in this
way. They belong to the volcanoes, to the centre of the
earth from where they come, not in a cage in a Ministry
building." His words seemed to be spoken directly to
the demon, not the class. "It is with regret that I
was advised that all the immature demons were still toofrisky,
shall we say, for the Defence Against the Dark Arts class.
This one is older, more world-wise, and, I am assured,
less likely to turn. I do not wish to cause it
unnecessary harm, butyour curriculum is, after all,
your curriculum." He moved even closer to the cage,
and Harry's breath caught in his throat.
"It has been brought
here for today's class for us to experiment with
different types of defence against fire elementals. Next
week I hope to have a water demon, the week after, earth,
and the final week before your exams start, air."
He glanced up at the class.
"Many fire demons aremischievous as opposed to
truly evil - but there are some - " and here he shot
a sideways look at the thing, "that will destroy
everything in their path until they are vanquished. And
they do this for no reason other than the fact they can
do it."
He could not repress the
shudder.
"Our experiments today
will obviously figure very heavily around the fire
elemental. Normally, the Ministry would perform this
service for me in advance, but they are, apparently, too
busy and have requested that I do this myself. Please
note that the spell I am about to cast is one that is as
close to the Dark Arts as you can get without crossing
the line."
His voice shook a little as
he said this. But, confidently, he stood before the cage
again, and bowed his head, almost apologetically. Anyone
close enough would hear him mutter an apology to the
demon before he held up his wand and chanted 'Brimstone
multiplartum!"
There would be two things the
truly observant would notice when Anders cast this spell.
The first was that a faint sheen of sweat broke out on
his face, and the second was that the crystal pendant he
wore around his neck seemed to glow slightly.
The thing let out a roar of
rage? Pain? It was impossible to tell which - and several
tiny sparks leapt forth from it, burning on the ground
before Anders. He knelt down and picked one up in his
bare hand.
"Here," he said,
dropping it into the palm of Ron who was nearest. "Take
it. It won't hurt you. It's incapable of hurting you -
it's a neo-demon. It is a child of our fiery friend
there, and will be neither good nor evil unless you teach
it one or the other."
He scooped up the other
dancing flames gently, almost paternally, and began
dropping them on the student's desks. "I want you to
study these neo-demons for the remainder of this class,
and I am going to teach you the four very basic element
defence spells that you can use to examine elemental
effects on the fire element."
The pendant around his neck
had reverted to its dormant state, and he glanced down at
it, a look of relief crossing his face briefly. Then he
seemed to pull himself together, and the chalk sprang to
life again.
"To cast a simple spell
of water on the demon, the spell is 'Aqueatus'. Wands
down, repeat the words after me, please." He
repeated the process for 'Terraneus' for earth, 'Cumulus'
for air and 'Pyrolus' for fire." Then he nodded.
"All yours," he
said. "Experiment, and note."
And all the while, the parent
demon in its cage at the back of the room was staring at
him balefully. He returned its stare with an apologetic
gaze of his own, then looked away, ending the Lumos spell
and returned to his seat, troubled.
* * *
"That was AMAZING fun,"
enthused Ron as they packed up their things at the end of
the lesson. His tiny neo-demon had ended up three times
its original size when he had cast a succession of fire
spells on it, but Professor Grimalkin had put a stop to
his fun by idly casting an earth spell and firmly
reminding him that he had other spells to experiment with.
Harry and Hermione agreed
readily and, their bags over their shoulders, they left
the classroom, Harry glancing over his shoulder to grin
at Anders as he passed. He paused in the doorway,
watching the young Professor intently.
"Sir? Are you alright?"
"Hmm? Oh, Harry. I was
just...that demon. I hope the Ministry returns for it
soon. It makes me extremely unhappy having it here."
"You said its bindings
were safe, didn't you?" Harry knew a moment's fear.
The fire demon was so very...big. And the majority of
people at Hogwarts were, in comparison, so very...small.
"Oh, yes. The only thing
that can destroy that cage is a Dark Arts spell of great
magnitude. I do not believe anyone in this school has
that knowledge. It takes years of studying the Dark Arts
to even begin to control a demon. Anyone who simply
dabbles would be in for rather a nasty surprise if they
tried." He gave Harry an encouraging smile. "How
about..." he lowered his voice. "How about a
lesson tonight?"
"That'd be great..."
began Harry, then his face fell. "I can't, not
tonight. We have an Astronomy practical and I really have
to cram."
Professor Grimalkin looked
equally disappointed, but shrugged. The fourth-year
Ravenclaw class were starting to file into the room, and
Anders winked at Harry, effectively dismissing him before
turning his attentions to the second-year class to whom
he was teaching Curse theory.
As Harry left, he felt the
gaze of the demon touch him and he turned briefly to
stare at it. It was truly intimidating, and he did not
trust it one little bit.
* * *
"It'll be brilliant,"
said Malfoy in his drawling voice. "We'll do it at
dinner when everyone's there, then accuse him!"
"Draco, you come up with
the most wonderful ideas," said Pansy Parkinson
admiringly. "How did you find out about it?"
"I figured it out,
stupid," sneered Draco. "What you don't know
about me, Parkinson, is that I pay attention whilst the
rest of you ignore what's going on around you. Professor
Grimalkin is a freak, and the school should be told about
it! For all we know, he could be a vampire." Draco
had been studying the same books as Hermione, but for
very, very different reasons.
Pansy felt a moment's
sympathy for the young Professor, who she rather liked in
an odd sort of way, but it quickly passed at the idea
that he was a vampire. "Ooh," she said. "He
is rather pale, isn't he?" Draco smiled inwardly at
how quickly the idea had rooted in her mind. If she was
so easily swayed, then the majority of the school would
be, too.
Draco's words rather worried
her. The Professor had always been a little on the pale
and wan side, and she had always simply assumed it was
because of his illness. But if what Draco was implying
was true...
Pansy looked down at the book
Draco had shoved across the table. "An Umbra?"
she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She read the
description of how that particular clan held people's
attention and began to panic slightly. She, herself, had
found Anders Grimalkin's Defence Against the Dark Arts
classes more than fascinating on several occasions. Maybe
this explained it...
She squeaked and slammed the
book shut. "It's possible," she said. "After
all, the Headmaster DID hire a werewolf...there's not
much to stop him from hiring a vampire as well..."
"This should see the end
of the old coot's reign at Hogwarts," said Draco,
gleefully. "Oh, Pansy, this is going to be
marvellous!"
"Yes..." she said,
a little doubtfully. "Marvellous."
Draco rubbed his hands
together. "Spolio Facticius," he said, showing
her the Strip Artifice spell. "I perform it,
Grimalkin is exposed! No more shadow, one shamed
Professor Grimalkin. The other students are going to
thank me for this...oh, yes. It's going to be a total
triumph. A masterpiece of wizardry. Grimalkin will go
down in a blaze of shame. I, on the other hand..."
He puffed up triumphantly, "will be treated to a
blaze of glory."
* * *
As if somehow connected with
Draco Malfoy's evil plans, the weather took a turn for
the worse that afternoon. Thunderous clouds hung over the
castle like a flock of particularly evil birds. When the
rain finally began to fall, it was in vertical sheets of
water that battered off the school roofs and flattened a
vast amount of the plant life in the gardens.
Anders Grimalkin, staring out
of his classroom window could not recall ever seeing such
horrendous rain, not even in Wales, where it rained more
or less constantly. Or at least FELT that way.
A howl of rage from the
corner of the room caused him to get to his feet and move
again to the demon. It was looking slightly transparent,
wavering and - if such a word could be applied to such a
creature - sickly, apparently distressed by the amount of
moisture it could sense in the air. Anders flicked his
wand into his hand and fed the thing a couple of small
fire spells, watching with satisfaction as it became less
translucent. He nodded and turned away, ignoring once
again the look of chilling malevolence it shot the young
DADA Professor.
He completed the lesson and
spent an extra hour or so marking some papers before
heading to the Great Hall for dinner.
The weather had driven not
only every student and teacher - including Professor
Trelawney - into the Great Hall, but also apparently
every ghost in the place. The latter may, of course, have
had something to do with Peeves circulating the rumour,
on Malfoy's orders, that something spectacular was going
to happen at dinner. Anders moved quietly to take his
seat, finding himself, much to his annoyance, seated next
to Sybill Trelawney, who took no time at all in relaying
to him in her sonorous voice that the weather was a
portent of doom.
The young Professor had
learned very early on in his dealings with Professor
Trelawney that the best course of action was simply to
nod and smile occasionally, leaving her with the
impression that he was listening to every word she was
saying, when in fact he was running over tomorrow's
lesson plans in his head.
"Yoo hoo! Grim!"
Peeves floated through the
centre of the top table towards him and he rolled his
eyes skywards. He'd managed to escape taunting from the
Poltergeist for most of the term. Why Peeves had decided
to pick tonight...it was either Trelawney...or the
poltergeist.
Anders groaned inwardly. Why
him?
"Grim!" Peeves
jabbed a ghostly finger at him, which passed through his
chest in most disconcerting manner. "I've been
visiting your little pet in the DADA classroom. Doesn't
like you very much, does he, Grim? He told me some of the
things he would like to do to his captor if he could only
get out of the Binding Spell. Oooh, do you want to hear
them? They're so gruesome..."
"That's enough, Peeves,"
said Dumbledore, mildly. "Professor Grimalkin..."
"...Professor Grimalkin
is quite capable of answering for himself, thank you
Headmaster," said Anders, a little irritated at
Dumbledore's apparently perpetual belief that his nephew
needed constant protection. He turned back to the
poltergeist. "Go away, Peeves," he said, his
voice low and with enough of an edge to it to make
Professors Trelawney and Vector who sat to the other side
of him, shuffle away.
The poltergeist opened his
ghostly mouth to retort, but then caught the glint of the
threat in Anders' mouth and closed it firmly before
disappearing with a pop.
Anders settled back in his
seat comfortably and grinned at Dumbledore who smiled
back affectionately. The boy's confidence was growing so
fast now, that it would soon be time to rein it in before
he got cocky.
Dinner was, as always,
delicious and very, very plentiful. Professor Trelawney
ate like a sparrow, nibbling at the tiniest morsels on
her plate and bemoaning the fact that portents of doom
hung everywhere that day, and they were all pointing at
Anders Grimalkin. He smiled at her.
"Maybe, Professor,"
he said, in his most charming voice. "You might
actually be talking a load of complete..."
It was then that he happened
to look down at the Slytherin table and met the eyes of
Draco Malfoy.
He knew that look.
That was the look of a highly
unpleasant individual out to make the life of Anders
Grimalkin a complete misery.
A slow smile spread across
Malfoy's pointed face, making him look slightly demented
and particularly malicious. Anders watched him with a
sort of horrible fascination as the Slytherin's wand slid
into his hand and pointed up at the table. And for what
was probably the first time in his entire life, Anders
did something he'd never done before.
He got out of the way.
When the dust had settled,
Anders found it very hard to piece together exactly what
had happened. As the first syllables of the Spolio
Facticius spell left Malfoy's lips, Anders had instantly
figured out what the boy's idea was and had ducked
instantly under the table. Professors Trelawney and
Vector, startled by the man's sudden movement leaned in
towards one another to see where he'd gone and were
struck by the spell at the same time.
Malfoy's mouth formed a
horrified 'O' of surprise as he realised just what he'd
done. He hurriedly shoved the wand away again and watched
in complete, total and utter horror as the scene unfolded
in front of him.
The Strip Artifice spell
struck the two female professors simultaneously, and the
results were somewhere between tragic and hysterically
funny. Professor Vector, who most of the students found
easy to get along with was not affected by the spell.
Having no reason to change anything about herself, there
was nothing artificial for the spell to remove.
Professor Trelawney was
another matter.
The illusion she wove around
herself was immediately broken, and the usually tall,
large-eyed, ethereal looking woman was revealed to be a
short, dumpy middle-aged witch with a squint that gave
her a first-class view of her nose. She let out a
strangled cry of horror and fled the Great Hall to a
mixture of snickers and murmurs of sympathy.
At this point, Anders re-emerged
from under the table, holding a dinner fork that he'd
taken as an excuse for ducking. He saw the door shut as
Professor Trelawney left.
Dumbledore was already on his
feet, leaning in at the student body. "What,"
he said, in his most threatening tone, "just
happened there? Who saw the caster of that spell?
Severus? Minerva? Anders?"
For a split second, Anders
was tempted to spill the beans on Draco Malfoy, but he
looked down at the Slytherin. Disturbed by the sheer
hatred he saw in Malfoy's eyes, he shook his head numbly.
"I didn't see, Headmaster," he said. "I...uh...dropped
my fork..."
Something like relief flooded
over the Slytherin boy's face, but he hardened it again
very quickly. Dumbledore shook his head. "Poor
Sybill," he murmured. "She's kept that illusion
a great secret for many years."
Anders was sorely
disappointed he'd missed it, but relieved that he'd
avoided the embarrassment that he knew would have
followed had Malfoy's spell hit home. Now he knew that
the Slytherin knew his secret - he would have to tread
very carefully.
His eyes swung over to
Hermione Granger, the girl that Draco had more or less
accused him of impropriety with.
Yes. Tread very carefully
indeed.
* * *
Anders headed back to the
DADA classroom after dinner to check on the demon one
more time before calling it a night. He was not surprised
to find Draco Malfoy lounging idly at his desk, his two
goons mooching behind him.
"Malfoy," he
acknowledged.
"You were lucky tonight,
'Professor'," drawled the Slytherin. "But I
wanted you to know that I've only just started." The
boy got to his feet and leaned across the desk. "I
know what you are, Grimalkin, and I'm going to prove it.
You'll be out of this school so fast that you won't know
what hit you."
Unfazed, Anders leant back
towards Malfoy.
"If you don't get out of
my sight now, you won't know what hit you, either."
Malfoy sneered.
"Yes, Grimalkin. I know
all about your...temper as well. You'd better just watch
yourself, you murdering coward. Just one more bit of
useful fodder, and you'll have handed me the noose to
hang you with." Malfoy leaned in closer still until
his face was just inches from Anders'.
"And I'll enjoy watching
you swing."
He let it go and snapped his
fingers. Crabbe and Goyle, smirking infuriatingly fell in
line behind their leader and the three boys left the DADA
classroom and a highly agitated young Professor behind
them.
// Why don't you have a
little revenge? //
Anders started in horror. The
Inner Voice was back, and it sounded faintly amused, as
though the scene that had just taken place had been
arranged purely for its own entertainment.
"What do you mean...revenge?"
began Anders, but found his eyes automatically drawn to
the far end of the room, and the cage, where the fire
demon was sleeping, snoring in a vaguely comical way, a
small plume of smoke emitting from its nostrils every
time it exhaled. "No..." he said, hesitantly.
"There's...revenge and there's downright stupidity..."
// I'm not suggesting you do
*anything* other than give them a little scare, Anders,
now, am I? // the voice insisted, soothingly.
"I can't," replied
the young man desperately fighting the urge to flick his
wand into his hand. "I can't," he repeated,
more firmly, backing up to the door.
// Anders, Anders, Anders. //
The voice actually sounded as if it were truly
disappointed in him, and there was something there...that
he recognised. He was almost totally unaware of the fact
that his wand was now in his hand and raised ready to
cast the spell.
"...." he began,
then his real self got a grip. "No!" he yelled,
throwing his wand from him and backing up to the door.
"I won't do it."
// Oh, you will, Anders, //
the voice chuckled. // You do everything I want you to in
the end. //
And he was alone again.
(c) S Watkins, 2001
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