Pieces of a Mosaic
Connieo Concinnitudo (I)
To bring together brings harmony, excitement and pleasure
"No, I refuse to listen to one more word" said Fudge angrily "You shall not have your way on this one Albus! I have decided and I shall not turn back on my word for the likes of you"
"Cornelius, you must listen to me! You'll have the blood of the nation on your hands if-"
"I shall have NOBODY'S blood on my hands!" screeched Fudge
"I am afraid you shall have your own if you persist on this rout" sighed Dumbledore. Fudge had forced him to take the risky path.
"What do you mean, is that a threat?" asked Fudge slyly
"Alas, I fear for your life"
"You . . . fear?"
"I do not know how much longer I can restrain my charge. Her powers have doubled since the last time you saw her; her rate of up-taking has reached a vertiginous peak. She has threatened to find you and strangle you before the month is out several times"
Fudge gaped like a still goldfish. Dumbledore took the occasion to keep on talking.
"I have managed to calm her down for now, but love seems to have tempered her afore-calm spirit. She is powerful Cornelius, beware of her. She has seen much already; being separated from her home and her family, and forced to do strenuous activity every day, and now she is being denied the comfort of a relationship. She has personally told me to refer to you that you should remove the ordinance if you wish to continue living. It was she who pressed me to come again today"
"How . . . dare she threaten me?" said Fudge. Although some red blotches of anger formed on his face, his fingernails turned blue with fright"
"I have seen her progress Cornelius. Her powers have become totally independent of my teachings the last few weeks. She is angry. I beg you, take the ordinance back, or else there shall be a reaction not even the Lord Voldemort himself could survive"
"I'll arrest her for this! This is treason!" cried Fudge
"No Cornelius! It is folly!" Dumbledore said, in a surprisingly calm voice "Which spell shall hold her? Which animal shall harm her? Not even your Grotroblins would ever dare to brush a stray hair off her blouse"
"Then, do we have a dark Queen on our hands?" asked Fudge. Dumbledore was somewhat pleased to see a cold sweat break on the Minister's forehead.
"Oh no! Not at all Cornelius. She is a lady of the kindest of hearts. It is only that , by separating them . . . I fear you have made the only thing she could not withstand. She has sustained being taken from all that was familiar to her, and she has also accepted her role and duty with formidable strength of character. But you see, Harry Potter was her reference in our world. Her turning point, one might say. Miss Dawson took comfort in Harry Potter because she could remember still being relatively free and normal remembering him"
"I still do not understand" said Fudge "this violent reaction"
"You see Cornelius" said Dumbledore "Harry Potter was in many ways her guide in the wizarding world. She met him first, and even though she has known me, and indeed Hagrid, for nearly an equal amount of time, she could find in Harry a friend, instead of a colleague or a mentor. And Cornelius, they are young yet. Harry felt how much she depended on him, and in turn felt the need to protect her. Their young hearts did the rest"
"So you say that . . . she depends on Potter?" asked Fudge.
"She loves Harry" said Dumbledore
"And yet I cannot see why all this fuss"
"I, in turn cannot see a reason behind your obstinate decision"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean; her communication was not going to cause any immediate danger. Voldemort , as I have referred to you, has already found in his mind that she is not the Muggle Witch he searches for. Is it retaliation perhaps?"
"Retaliation?" Fudge threw his chest out to give himself some dignity. Dumbledore knew he had the right button "There can be no such thing when the direction of a country-"
"But I think that in fact, that is what made you issue that order. Is it maybe against me? Or maybe because Harry has worked for me as well in the past?"
"I said it is no such thing!" cried Fudge, his face once again reddening. Dumbledore sighed.
"So be it. But then, what are reasons? Do not tell me they are top secret, Cornelius-" he added, as the Minister opened his mouth and touched a file on his desk "- we are both in the fighting of the dark arts as much as each other"
"Fine then" said Fudge, thoroughly annoyed "You shall have your pound of flesh, Albus!"
"I want no such thing" said Dumbledore seriously "I only want the truth, for the interest of the state, of Miss Dawson and yours also"
"The state depends on me, not you!" cried Fudge
"The state depends on Miss Dawson" said Dumbledore shortly "and Miss Dawson depends on Harry Potter. Remember that June of 1994"
"I remember" replied Fudge, lowering his head "You remind me often enough"
"Harry Potter . . . yes Cornelius, he depend on you. Unless . . . I wonder, has he resigned from his post of Hit Wizard?"
Fudge paled
"Of course . . . of course he hasn't" he stuttered
"He has threatened to do o, has he not?"
Fudge fidgeted, stuttered, looked around, touched some files- and broke down.
"Yes" he said in a whimper "Peter Weasley referred to me that it took a great deal of persuasion on his part to avoid Harry write a resignation letter there and then" Fudge looked up at Albus desperately "I only wanted to avoid her any distractions. I never expected either of them to react in this way! If Harry Potter leaves the Ministry . . . public opinion and moral . . . the people love him, and they would be afraid . . ."
"You need them both, we all do" sighed Albus "Don't you see? Their unity is the best thing that could have happened. Now we have two forces to be reckoned with that have united"
"I still cannot remove the order" he said "Try to understand!" Albus was looking at him too surely "I have my reputation! Give me some months and-"
"We do not have some months" said Albus "We shall begin to see a depletion in her work and art by the end of this very week! We do not know how long her cover shall last. Voldemort's glance is safely in Ireland with Remus Lupin at the moment. We have purposely sent out rumours and surrounded Ireland with great protection. Reason Cornelius, we cannot allow her progress to be dampened by-"
"I have already told you, I cannot do it all in a huff" said Cornelius "Issuing an order is easy, but reversing it . . . it would catch the eye Albus. You know yourself how our last mission was ruined because of a spy. No doubt there are more . . ."
"At least remove their bar on communication!" said Dumbledore
"I cannot Albus! Not for now! I'm sure you understand it has to be done quietly"
"I'm afraid . . . you shall be receiving another visit soon . . . one not so quiet, as you seem to love"
Fudge paled again.
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Clare sat on the bed, nervously tapping her foot on the floor. Her little friend, Winky, was hugging her legs on the floor next to the bed, looking up at her mistress. Clare had let her into her secret, knowing for certain that the little creature would rather die than betray her.
"It boils down to that Winky" she said "If I don't see him soon, I go crazy and break the place apart"
"But . . .- you is sure you is wanting this? To see Harry Potter?"
"Winky, what do you mean? Of course I want to see him. I . . . I love him Winky, you know that"
"But if you is not seeing him . . . you is not dying" said the house-elf, her eyes watering up
"I woulWinky" said Clare, shaking her head sadly "I'm sure I would die anyway. You see . . . I don't think I will manage to plod along without him . . . I . . . need him to live, Winky, nearly more than air . . . and then, I'll still have to face Voldemort. That prophesy says that we'll go down fighting, but that he'll down with us. We still have to face him Winky . . . if we face him on our own, separately, we won't be strong enough to eliminate him, and we'll die leaving him behind" "But Miss" Winky was crying openly. Clare was too resigned to cry "You is not having to face him! You is can run away with Harry Potter, and you leave He-who-must-not-be-named to others" "I thought of that Winky" said Clare, looking down at her with eyes wide with pain "I even considered it. But Harry will never- Harry never ran from anything. He won't- he won't start now- will never- and . . . where he goes . . . I go" "You is . . . Miss, you can count on Winky" squeaked the house-elf "No! you have nothing to do with this, you don't have to face the danger, like I have to- like WE have to, me and Harry- But Winky . . . I'm happy to die with him . . ." "Ah Miss!" sniffed Winky, wiping her wrinkled brown cheeks "You is so young! And Master Potter also! You is should be living your lives. You really is noble Miss, and Harry Potter too, like Dobby always said" Clare gave a wry smile.~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~One of the many things Harry and Ron had to do apart from all their papers to sign, missions to prepare and job meetings to attend, was to co-ordinate the training of the younger and freshly promoted Hit Wizards."Dodge those sacks! Those are damnable curses, and you would be fried by now! Dodge, dodge, jump!" yelled Ron, getting red in the dace at the young men. Harry didn't like yelling at the young hits, because most of the new recruits were not much older than himself, and some of them were his and Ron's very own age. Ron, on the other hand, had the patience of a restless young foul."Not like that! Alright, look here". Ron made his way to the middle of the field to show them the right way to do the exercise. Harry sighed and looked on, following Ron with his eyes. Although he knew, and had marks on his skin to prove it, how important the dodging and jumping physicals were when you were actually assaulting enemies, Ron had taken it as a personal plight to get the new hits up to standard. It was not the first time that he got frustrated enough to point at the thin shining burn down his left cheek and said "This is what you get when you fool around on a mission field". That usually worked, and all the hits would begin to concentrate on their exercises.Harry knew that Ron's vigour on the young Hits was not only for the preservation of their personal life. Ron wanted them to be extremely well prepared if the moment came to face Voldemort, so they would be of help to Harry and Ron. Also Ron wanted to take the training off Harry's hands, and so he had taken all the students' classes up on himself.However, unknowing to Ron, this was worst on Harry. Not having something to do, something to occupy his mind, was leaving him to get more and morore depressed. It was unthinkable to-"
"Potter"
Harry turned around to see Mundungus coming up. His folded cheeks were flushed.
"Why `re you standing there, boy?" he asked "Where's you par`ner?"
"Ron's down there on the field. He'd giving the, a practical training"
Mundungus gave him a knowing grin that clearly said Ron was jelling himself hoarse at that very moment
"Just like I used to do myself" he added, a trifle wryly "Anyways Potter, ya'd better get into the buildin`, coz the Junior Minister's there for you. What `ave you done this time, you and yer hot head partner?"
"Does he want Ron too?" asked Harry, although he would have gratefully dashed up to the Ministry building like a possessed.
"Na, only you, but the red head" - he nodded towards the field- "falls under you, so you're going to get a yellin` for both, I rec`n"
Harry nodded and departed at a run, leaving his superior surprised at how eager he was to get his "yellin`". Why had Percy come? Was there more bad news? Or perhaps . . . some good news at last? He didn't count on the last option much, but just thinking of it made him run. Probably towards a delusion, he thought.
He stopped in front of the door of his office to regain his breath (Irene had googled at him as he passed, his outer robe flying behind him). Then he turned the knob and stepped in. Percy was looking out of the window.
"My brother is a real curmudgeon" he said absently to the window pane, clearly trying to break the ice
"He's trying to help me" said Harry quietly, closing the door behind him. The atmosphere in the room was very still "What news?"
"No news" said Percy "Except that Dumbledore had visited for the second time"
"No result?"
"Not . . . yet"
"Is there hope then?". Percy turned from the window wearing a rather smug grin.
"Fudge is breaking. He's just asked me a way of going around a reversal order "as quietly as possible"
"And you call this no news!" cried Harry, striding across the room and hugging the other man in a transport of joy
"Yes" said Percy. He sighed, pushing Harry away, and continued "Sorry to ruin it, but it's going to take very long to remove the order that way Fudge wants to, so ultimately you're in the same situation for another month or so"
Harry's shoulders sagged. He couldn't keep his disappointment from surfacing to his features.
"Don't worry" said Percy, visibly flinching at Harry's face "Dumbledore seems to have something up his sleeve. My office is right next to Fudge's, and I heard, by chance, his next visitor wouldn't be `quiet`. What he meant? Well, that beats me, but when Fudge called me in right after, he was as white as a death-bed"
"Seems he's found something Fudge's really afraid of" said Harry thoughtfully
"Not difficult, if you ask me" winked Percy "If I'm lucky, he threatened him with convincing the public I'd make a better Minister"
"Ambitious as ever, aren't you?" said Harry, who couldn't help himself but grin
"Wouldn't be like myself if I wasn't, according to you others, right?" smirked Percy. Harry felt a trifle better
"Why? Aren't we right?" he teased, then he sighed "Oh well, at least I know it's not forever"
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"Move Remus! Move" hissed Sirius urgently
"But the others are leaving too? They should-"
"Nothing will happen to the others, it's you they want" said Sirius, grabbing his friend by the back of his robe collar and pulling him out of the hut "You're the leader of this faction! They'll expect you to know everything- and you do! I don't want you or your cousin dead. Move I say!"
Remus grabbed his jacket on the way out, as Sirius dragged him out, practically choking him as his friend's grip on the back of the collar was making the front cut into his throat.
"All your men have been replaced by Unspeakables of the ambush division. Snape said they think she's here with you" Sirius lowered his voice farther as he said this. He stopped at the door of the hut, pinched it open, peered outside, and only when he saw the signal from the men positioned around the camp did he leave the hut, Remus still walking backwards at the end of his arm
"Sirius, why did you come here? Why didn't they just send an evacuation order?"
"You are too hard-headed to obey a simple order, that's why I'm here. Don't play games with me Remus; you did receive an evacuation order- I wrote it myself"
"Sirius . . . I didn't receive anything"
Sirius stopped in his tracks. He finally let go of Remus, who gratefully ran a finger along his neck, coughing slightly and regaining his balance as he turned to face his companion.
"What do you mean, you didn't receive anything? I wrote it and sent it three days ago"
"Sirius, I honestly did not receive your letter" said Remus. Sirius had walked them through half the camp, and they were now standing between two sleeping huts of the employees of the base. A while half moon came out from behind the clouds, and flooded the surroundings in white light and blue shadows.
"Filtering" they both said together. Although they were both standing in the patch of shadows one of the huts left behind it, the glare of the moonlight caught their eyes. Remus's hazel eyes twinkled with the same worry he could see in Sirius's black ones.
"We have to move quicker! They'll know we're evacuating if they filtered the letters. They'll be here sooner. Time and date- Quickly!"
"Saturday 8th May" said Remus seriously "12:45 am"
"We've got to get out of here! They could be attacking any minute" hissed Sirius "The Portkey's round the corner"
"Lead on" said Remus
"All the Unspeakables placed here don't know anything about her" said Sirius as he dashed round the block, Remus behind him "so if they're captured they can't tell him anything. But we do know, and not even we can stand one of HIS truth spells. MOVE!"
Remus followed silently, Sirius's hair, now flaked with white as well, flying behind him. His friend stopped abruptly, picking up a tin can from the floor.
"Hold on pal- we're out of here in three . . . two . . . one . . ."
With a dashing noise of violent wind, both man vanished into thin air. The camp was attacked a mere three seconds later.
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The Quidditch game had been moved from Friday evening, because the that had began in the afternoon had carried on into the night, and the Snitch could have been damaged by the falling ice. But Saturday dawned bright and sunny, even hot and nothing could have stopped the fourteen players from flying into the pitch.
All the stands roared as the teams zoomed in. the bright yellow and scarlet seemed to match the colours of the cloudless day. Lin yelled herself hoarse when Eliott took his position in the air, and she actually managed to twist a smile out of him. Amanda, Edward and Jim were all wearing school flags with the Gryffindor lion moving all over them.
Clare clapped and cheered with the rest. She looked on and laughed as Amanda, Jim and Lin tried to make Ann support Gryffindor with more vigour. They had dragged the poor girl away from her house stand and were now keeping her surrounded by gold and scarlet, which clashed horribly with the blue badge and belt of her uniform.
Clare herself had never gone to sit in the teacher's stand; she openly supported Gryffindor in Quidditch, come what may. She laughed, cheered, yelled and bood with all the others. When Gryffindor scored their first ten points she even stood up, clapping her hands raw. Nobody would have suspected the she had been told the possibility of her death was closer than a bed at 89 years lived happily.
In fact, the girl had all but forgotten about it. it was this very thing that had made her, that morning when she woke up in Harry's bed, decide to make the most of life, to live every second of it, to grab all the occasions to laugh while she could. Had she had Harry beside her, wearing Gryffindor rosettes and cheering Eliott's team along with her friends, she would have had perfect happiness. However, if she closed her eyes, she could imagine him right there extremely easily. His messed hair ruffled in the fresh breeze, his specks glittering in the sun as he smiled down at her or yelled at Madam Hooch for a free shot.
Of course, when she opened her eyes to find the crowd roaring at Gryffindor's second score, Harry wasn't there.
But he would be very soon. She would make sure of it. She had a good idea about what she would do to the Minister once she found herself face to face with him.
With a hellish grin, she snapped her fingers.
Everything stopped.
All the players froze in their positions, robes and hair flying behind them as if they had been sculptured that way. The Chasers stopped chasing, the Beaters stopped beating, the Seekers stopped seeking and the Keepers stopped defending their poles
The bludgers stopped zooming around. The quaffle sat quietly in the Hufflepuff Chaser's hand, and the Snitch, lurking behind one of the Gryffindor posts, stopped its frantic wing flapping.
The audience stopped yelling. The air was completely silent and motionless. Without any effort whatsoever, she had stopped time. She grinned further when she saw Minerva and Dumbledore peer at her from the next stand. She had chosen to exempt her matriarch and her mentor from the temporal hibernation of space.
She turned to look at them with a face that spoke of satisfaction soon to come and anticipation. Although the stand was far away, she could see Dumbledore raise an eyebrow very well.
"Miss Dawson!" he called "can you please represtinate the coarse of time?". His voice echoed in the stillness.
Clare looked at the pitch. She pointed a finger at the Snitch and dragged it magically to the centre of the pitch. That should make it interesting, she thought. Then starting to feel the weight of the huge amount of magic and the push of time, that wanted to move and die once again, she flicked her fingers a second time.
The sound wave was enormous compared to the previous silence. Everyone and everything returned to their previous functions, unknowing of the gap in time that had occurred, and that Minerva, Dumbledore and Clare had lived a few seconds more than they had.
The Muggle Witch felt rather fatigued, but she was not about to show it for the life of her. Especially because Dumbledore was watching her from the teacher's stand. She could feel his eyes on her.
The sudden appearance of the Snitch right in their midst didn't go unnoticed for long. Since the snitch was very volatile, nobody found anything strange in suddenly spotting it flapping (in a rather disoriented way, it seemed) at centre pitch; something Clare had counted on. Having rested against the railings for a few minutes and recovered her strength, she pivotted around suddenly, catching Dumbledore's glance, as he had been watching her. Just as the Gryffindor Seeker caught the Snitch, winning the house cup and sending the stands- especially the one she was in- into a hubbub of screams, yells and banging, Clare and her mentor kept their glance. Their eyes were locked, as though there were no students, no turmoil; as though the time was still inert. His eyes spoke of caution, preservation and worry. Her eyes spoke of will, courage and deep, deep anger.
The link was broken when Amanda jumped on Clare from behind and turned her around to join in the feasting. She gave the teacher's stand her back and didn't turn to look again.
"Albus, what is happening to that girl?" said Minerva, looking close to tears with the worry.
"She has just reached her limit of supportation" said Dumbledore sadly "Alas, we all have one. She has decided, from what I can deduce, to take the situation in hand. She knows she can do what she pleases now; she has realised her potential and released her powers. I fear, Minerva, because this might expose her."
Minerva looked at her feet.
"I tremble" finished Dumbledore- and his voice was indeed trembling for the first time in years- "at the thought of what the enemy would have done if he had a creature like her to his disposition"
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So it came to pass that Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup for the first time since the departure of Harry Potter from Hogwarts. They were also in the lead for the house points with a healthy gap from all the other houses. The Quidditch team enjoyed a good number of attentions, and also a good party right after the match. The food was provided directly from the house-elfs, as Edward had become very friendly with Winky since she had helped him escape Filch's clutches during the preparations for the surprise party.
Clare didn't join in, although she did stay a while, having been dragged to the tower by the Gryffindors. Nobody bothered, quite the contrary; they were all a trifle disappointed to see her go. Even her accomplices.
But Clare had other plans.
She went to her room, where she found her house-elf waiting for her with a red cloak. She wore it, and dressed the hood, and apparated directly to London. She lowered her hood and made her way unfearingly into the Leaky Cauldron. Her head high, her eyes a grey fire, she walked strait up to the counter.
"Are you the Landlord?" she asked the bald man who was noisily wiping some crockery, making the cloth squeak as he pressed it against the glass. He gave her a wrinkled toothless grin. Then again, with the low, flickering lamp light and the dark surroundings, she might have been mistaken.
"Aye, would you like a room young madam, or would just like a drink?' he asked nicely
"No thank you" she answered with dry politeness. Then she motioned him to get closer and said "I would like you only to show me up to Harry Potter's room"
"Blimey, I can't do that!" he exclaimed
"Hush!" keep it down" she said, looking around warily. The couple of tenants that had dared to look up quickly averted their gaze when she fixed them with a withering glare. Then she cautiously produced, from her inner pocket, the photo of Hogsmead, which she had brought with her.
"We are . . . friends. Very close friends" she whispered as she passed it to him. His mouth- now she certainly could see that it was toothless- turned into a very round 'o'.
"I've seen this one" he said, giving her a saucy look as he bade her to follow him with a wave "There's `ne like it up in `is bedroom"
She knew she was risking her neck in this, risking big time, but she preferred dying to separate.
"He isn't here at the `ment" he said, putting his hand on the crome knob of the door, which had a shining `7` on it, and turning to face her "but he will come `ere for the night, no doubt"
"The night?" she said doubtfully. She scowled. She doubted she could stay that long. No one knew she had left Hogwarts, and Winky could say only so many times that she was in the bath, or sleeping. Of course people were bound to go looking for her in her room now that she had missed dinner.
Then again, the seventh years knew where she was, and they were supposed to play along for her for a while. Amanda and Edward had forfeited the feast {"I didn't want to stay there anyway" Edward had winked in Amanda's direction "Your office's more private"}, while Lin and Eliott remained in the Gryffindor tower, to divert any questions there, and Winky was in her room. She was well covered where theory came in.
The Landlord showed her in and closed the door. Clare looked around, then steadied her wand as she heard the old men walk down the creaking staircase. She did not know him, and although he hosted Harry's stay, he could be a spy for all she knew. When minutes flew by and there was still no sign of any assault on the room, or of any spy lurking in the proximity, she relaxed, nonetheless still keeping a mental guard of what was going on in the area of the corridor and the staircase.
Interesting, she thought to herself, I never realised I could extend my senses.
Then she roamed around the room, passing a hand over the pillows and the sheets, picking through the clothes in the drawers, up-handing shoes and socks from the floor and neatly setting them in place.
The smell in the room spoke to her of him. Out of the wardrobe she took an outer-robe she had seen him with during the Christmas break- the one he had worn when, coming from the gates, they had met on the grounds. It was blue, open at the front with a row of silver buttons descending down the chest, these last ones covered by a strap of dark blue velvet that then proceeded to go down all along the hem. The buttons stopped a few inches from the waist, opening in an upside down V. The robe itself was ankle long, but opened in two flaps, the splits starting at the knee to give the wearer better mobility. Two silver frogs, each with a kind of family crest on it, joined two loops at the front as an ornament, at around the middle of the torso. It was sleeveless, allowing another robe or a blouse to be worn underneath, except for two straps of material that covered the shoulders and ended in a point, she ran a finger along the pointed hood, that looked like one of the Franciscan's order. Two strings dangled down at the front. When Harry had worn it, they had been tied in a long drooping bow to keep the top together.
He had looked everything but breath-taking with the black sleeves and beige trousers underneath, his green eyes reflecting a bluish hue from the robe.
She draped it around her and hugged herself, burying her face in the cloth and breathing in. Then she sighed. It smelled of lavender; it had been newly washed. As she stood, the shoulders of the robe drooped down to half her upper arm and the end of the robe trailed the floor behind her. There was a full length mirror in the room and she stepped in front of it looking at the robe enveloping her, her own grey robe blending with the hem of grey velvet.
She threw the robe on the bed and unbuttoned her own. It fell around her ankles and she stepped out of it. Choosing one of Harry's robes from the wardrobe, one of those that looked like a monk's garb, she draped it over her head. Then she folded the over-robe and hugged it to herself while she threw the red cloak over her. She then spread the grey robe she had been wearing on his bed, conjured a pen and paper, scribbled something, and put it on the dress.
This done, she disapparared.
Back at Hogwarts, she was in time to see Minerva closing the door to her room behind her.
"I is telling her you is falling asleep in the tub, mistress" said Winky, looking a bit apologic but smiling all the same
"That's just fine" replied Clare, taking off her cloak
"Ah miss! You is not wearing your own robe!" exclaimed Winky, her eyes widening
"He wasn't there and the Landlord told me he would have gone back only very late. I took a robe and a coat, and I left him the coat I was wearing. Don't ask me why I did it; I have no idea but I did it.
The robe he had taken, a bottle green robe, seemed to be slightly small. In fact, the sleeved were short, even for her, and the shoulders and length, instead of being huge and bulky like the over-robe, fitted her shorter stature rather well. Although the material was none the cheapest, in fact it looked like dress robes, Clare assumed Harry had been much younger when he bought this.
She spread the blue and grey over-robe on her bed, and once again recalled it on Harry, with the black sleeves, beige trousers and ankle-high dragon hide boots to go with it. The robe she was wearing smelt of lavender as well, not surprisingly, seeing it wouldn't fit him any longer. But he must have worn it at one point in his life. And must have loved it, to carry it with him even at London when he couldn't wear it any more. She wished she could have seen him with it . . . been a part of his life sooner . . .
"Winky" she said, peeling the robe off her "Hang this please- no, no, you aren't dismissed Winky-I'll put it one the bed. I just want you to hang it carefully" and she smiled while she put it on the bedding beside the other, for Winky to take; she had grown used to the house-elf's habitudes and fears
"Now I'm really going to take a bath"
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Harry slumped up the stairs with sagged shoulders. Work had never seemed more obnoxious and less appealing than now. Tom had said something about a `perfumed visitor`, but Harry hadn't the faintest idea what was the meaning behind his glinting eyes and wiggling eye brows.
The fished the keys out of his pocket and opened the door, dumping a set of papers he had under-arm on the desk and fingered the picture frame. He had made another copy of the Hogsmead photo, so that he could keep one in his room and one in his office. At least he could see her image if he couldn't have her by him all the time as he wanted.
Harry gave an annoyed scowl and turned around, grabbing some robes he always wore inside and went into the bathroom. Out and changed, he sat at his desk and began scanning through the pages of the three inch-thick files he had brought with him.
Deep into the night, when downstairs the grandfather clock boomed two in the morning, he threw his quill on the desk and stretched, popping his back. Then he shut the last file, having finally reviewing his office accounts. Irene had chosen a nice time to take a week's leave; the end of season book-check.
Yawning, he removed his spectacles and pulled his sweater off, changing his track pants for his pygama trousers, and pulling on a tank top. Then he pulled the bed curtains apart and dived in.
And shot right out again. He switched on the light, while having the desk lamp on, and put his specs on once again. He immediately saw what he had felt on the bed.
A grey robe of a cashmere-like material was spread over the bedding slightly crushed where he had lain down on it. By the tight waist and the low u-collar line, it was a woman's robe.
With wide eyes and a rush of blood to his face he checked the apartment all over, but there was no sign of the owner of the robe. Still blushing he paced around the room, rubbing the back of his head (muttering "perfumed visitor . . ."), as if he expected a woman to pop out of nowhere wearing a towel, or maybe (he wished) Clare to appear wearing nothin-
He shook the obscene thought (Not so obscene . . . there, he had done it again!) out of his mind and decided to pick the robe off the bed if only to do something.
The material was indeed cashmere, grey and shiny to the movement, silken to the touch. It nearly looked like an invisibility cloak. It was completely plain, was it not for the black felt lining on the neckline, a tin line along a seam under where the breast would be, the waist and the skirt's hem. The sleeves were short, maybe reaching to the elbow, but one end was elongated and pointed. It was ver smart, however plain it looked.
As he lifted the dress completely off the floor, a piece of parchment floated to the ground.
"I've borrowed some of your robes, as I couldn't see you when I came. I left my robe here for you, because I left wearing yours. I'd like to have it back, and I'm sure you'd like yours back too. However, I don't think I can nick out of Hogwarts again . . . I'm afraid that if you want your robe and over-robe back, you'll have to come yourself and take them from me
After all, the ordinance forbade communication by post- it
Said nothing about the verbal one.
Clare (I love you, never forget)"
Harry took in a noisy breath and kept it in. He looked at the robe in his other hand and brought it up to his face. It had her smell. She had been wearing this, it had been on her when she had entered the room- she had changed in the room.
He once again attempted to banish the thoughts from his mind, if not for Clare, for the veins all over his face. The blood there- and in other places- was flowing to bursting point.
The robe . . . was hers. She had left it for him and after a quick check he discovered that she had taken his favourite clothes. She knew the blue over-robe was his favourite, he had told her in December. She had also taken his first official wizarding robe after his school uniform- his fourth year dress robes.
He had never seen the robe she left him. She had bought it from Hogsmead in the past month maybe?
He took the note in his hands again. The invitation was tempting, so much so he dearly wished he could go to Hogwarts that very instant, but he knew very well that he was watched by Unspeakables. They probably even knew she had been there. He hoped she didn't get into trouble for it
Take his clothes from her . . . and give her his robe back. Then take her out to dinner, then for a peaceful walk around London, or Hogsmead, and then . . . spending the night together . . .
He groaned at himself and put the dress carefully on the armchair. Then he made his way to the bathroom; he needed another shower- but a cold one this time.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"You mean to say that say was in London? Today?" said Fudge, in a very agitated tone "Alone?"
"Yes Minister. Our agent number 6 saw her going into the London pub. He followed her in and the Landlord showed her up to room 7. Agent 6 went up with an invisibility cloak after about an hour, but the room was empty"
"This was so dangerous! And so imprudent! She could have been captured and it would have been the end of us!"
"Yes Minister" replied the agent "but this may be avoided. Agent 6 said that she left him a gift, and left him a not inviting him to visit her at Hogwarts. If he were left to go-"
"Enough!" said Fudge, his blood rising to his face "We should monitor him more rather, and I'll instantly write a letter to Dumbledore to make him take care of his charge better! Dispatch more men around Hogwarts, it's and order"
The other man nodded and left the room, while Fudge pulled out some parchment from the drawer and began to scribble furiously.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Miss Dawson" squeaked the house-elf, eyeing them warily "Professor Dumbledore is requesting you is going urgently in his office. He says; "Tell her come up to talk to me"
"Very well" sighed Clare, glancing at Hagrid to make he had heard. The big man gave a nod with his hairy head and turned to the students, who pouted when they saw her go.
The house-elf led her into the castle and up to the stone gargoyle. To the surprise of both of them, no sooner had Clare stepped in front of it, the statue sprang to life of its own volition. The house-elf bowed her in, as the gargoyle kept a safe distance. Evidently it had a memory, or she had implanted some strange personality magic through her hand, as it seemed to remember the sound slap Clare had donned it with on her last frantic visit to Dumbledore.
She let the steps take her up this time, being in no particular hurry. She did not know why her mentor had summoned her so urgently, and she preferred not to ponder on it, as all she could think of was more bad news. Then again how could things possibly get worst?
Clare arrived at the top and used the knocker. The door opened on its own as usual. However, stepping in, she found a rather stiff- and was that anger?- Dumbledore at his desk.
"Take a seat, Miss Dawson" he said sternly. Clare sat, thinking he hadn't called her by name as usual.
"I am very upset with you. You have been irresponsible and careless in a way I would never have expected. Not even love is an excuse for your irrationality"
Clare blinked, as her mind clicked on her visit to the Leaky Cauldron the previous Saturday evening.
"Have you not realised the danger you have put yourself, and us all, by your actions?" he continued "You went into London-" bingo, she had guessed "- unescorted and unwatched, and deliberately asked for Harry Potter. We must thank the God that all went well and that Tom is anything but a traitor"
Tom? ,she thought briefly, then dismissed it.
Clare sat back in a relaxed manner. She had known this onslaught of chastening would have happened sooner or later, and she was undaunted by it.
"You have disappointed me. I thought you much more considerate. If you did not think of yourself or our country, you should have at least thought of Harry himself"
Her relaxed expression faltered into a slight frown.
"As you are in danger when connected to him, he is in danger when connected to you"
She frowned openly, looking at her mentor, as if he had betrayed her . . .
"He is already connected to the Muggle Witch, because they know he found her" she saw him blink at her detached way of referring to herself "and that's why I'm in danger when connected to him- they can think I'm the one they're looking for. What they don't know is that I am that one, and so visiting him as an innocent and unknown teacher- no, assistant teacher- won't do any harm to anyone. Why, the fact that I'm out and about will make people suspect even less"
Looking at her mentor she knew that if he hadn't been the calm person he was, he would have pounced at her that minute. Basically useless, as she could stopped time before he had even stood up and calmly walk out, or simply apparate into her room
"I see you are decided" sighed Dumbledore
"On seeing Harry? Most certainly" she said determinately. A circle in the wrought iron frame behind her flared red, even though she could not see it. Dumbledore sighed again.
"Then this shall be the last time we talk. I would not like to part with you on this note, and I wish to tell you I will always be on your side"
Of all the things she was expecting, this was the last.
"Part with me?" she asked, very slowly
"I am afraid that after your slip, it seems my guardianship is not up to wanted standard. Also, your training is practically terminated, excluding some minor details. The Minister deems it opportune to transfer you to a safe place, at least by his bearing. From what I intook, you shall continue to refine your art in Norway."
And she saw red.
"Norway, he says?" she was so infuriated that she was laughing "I am supposed to go to Norway now? Oh, yes, what next? Will he move me to Tibet and shave my hair, or to a NAZA space station? No- no I know! I'll end up under the sea with the fish in a sub-station!"
She heartily grabbed an onyx paper holder and magically disintegrated it.
"Clare, please-"
"Where is the Ministry?"
"E-Excuse me, madam? The Ministry?"
"Give me the bearings of the Ministry Headquarters!" she yelled
"The bearings? Surely you are not thinking of-"
"I am and you are coming with me. You promised him a visit did you not? Now he will get it"
Very well" said Dumbledore "Lead us out of the castle, and then I shall take us both to the London"
She narrowed her eyes at him
"Do you not trust me?"
"It seems I have no alternative". Her mentor nodded, seeming uneffected by her insinuation
She grabbed his hand and looked at him
"Here we go"
In a wink of an eye, they were outside in the sunlight, with the gates behind them
"Now, Lady, hold on tight to me and we shall be in London instantly"
"Drop the `Lady`" Clare growled, grabbing onto Dumbledore's hand again
"But you are `Lady`. Taking over your powers, now you have become the Lady Muggle Witch, complete."
"Let's go" she said
The next thing she knew was a person bumping into her back, making her stumble.
"Watch where you apparate" he called to her over his shoulder. They were in a busy wizard street in London. Not Daigon Alley, but London none the less.
"Lead the way" she told Dumbledore
"We are there. Look, you surely can see-"
"The marble building?"
"Certainly. After you Lady". Clare simply stepped through the door without a word. Inside there was a wide, huge hall, with a reception box on one side at the far end and then a humungous lounge, golden chandeliers hanging from ceilings covered in filigree, opals, golden-sheet decoration and runic inscriptions. The floor was a highly polished champagne coloured marble, and there were blood red carpet and velvet curtains. Silver and jet, and black coral decorated every where. Four flags, England, Ireland, Scotland and Whale, hung at the four corners around the dark wine coloured armchairs, these standing on the red carpets, surrounded in champagne and gold, Silver, jet and black coral. No one was there.
Next to the reception box, there was a rich, red also, Persian looking carpet covering most of the floor, and next to it a tall, carved double door that led out of the waiting room. The receptionist was reading a book.
Clare walked right across the room and pulled open the door, finding little restraint from the wards and lock charms.
"Hey!" said the receptionist, standing up and knocking on the glass at the front of her stall.
"Fudge is expecting us" said Clare shortly, flicking her fingers and putting her to sleep, then proceeding down the corridor.
"We know our way in, this is urgent" said Dumbledore over his shoulder, attempting to give at least a partial explanation for their intrusive entrance, not noticing the receptionist was asleep as he rushed after his charge.
Clare was nearly at the end of the corridor, and knew exactly where she was going. Ever since Harry's party, when she had felt baby Timothy's brand of magic, she had privately taken to categorising the different magical stamp of every different witch and wizard she knew. She knew, and could feel, the definite magical impulse of everyone of her students, every one of them, her colleagues, and all of her group of friends. every witch and wizard had a different feel of magic- like a finger print- and she had learned to recognise each one. At that very moment, there were four familiar brands of magic in the building. Her patriarch and her mother's cousin where somewhere on the first floor. Their magic seemed to be coming from the same place, so they probably were in the same office. Percy was somewhere on a higher floor. And very close to Percy, there was Fudge. True to her luck, neither Ron nor Harry seemed to be in the building at that moment.
She stopped in her tracks when she felt Fudge directly above her. As soon as Dumbledore caught up with her, she grabbed his hand for the third time and apparated up to the top level.
Her assumptions had been exact. In fact, she opened her eyes to look directly into Fudge's frightened ones.
Fright soon turned into fear.
"Good morning, Minister" said Clare calmly
"What are you doing here?" stuttered Fudge
"Don't you dare talk to me like that" she answered casually, sitting down on a chair in front of his desk in ease. Dumbledore walked to the door and rested against its frame. He lit his pipe with his wand and smoked in silence.
"How dare you!" cried Fudge, although he didn't look as strong as his words "You are talking to the Minister of Magic of this country, not to your house-elf!"
"And you are talking to a Muggle Witch, it makes no difference to me if you are a Minister or a house-elf"
Fudge gaped. His face contorted, but she could not tell whether it was fear or anger.
"Of course, you know why I am here"
"You shall not give you what you want!"
"Indeed? Shall I take it then?"
"I do not stand to be threatened! Dumbledore, you say nothing? Are you an outlaw too?"
"Outlaw?" asked Clare, in a tone that was more warning than inquisitive
"You cannot threaten the life of an authority without breaking the law" said Fudge, evidently gaining some spunk and courage from his own words.
"I cannot threaten an authority? Shall I remove you from the post of authority then?" she replied in a very diplomatic tone. However, her eyes were glinting with hatred.
"You can't! you-"
"I can as easily as I wink my eyes"
She waved her hand by the wrist. The Quill he had been holding between his fingers disappeared. Fudge jumped in his shoes.
"However, I'm rather reluctant to use my precious magic for such a matter as can be talked civilly"
"Talk civilly? You call threatening civil? You pop in my office, talk big words, and you expect me to relent because you disapparated my quill?"
"Disintegrated. Magic can break atoms. It is in the atoms"
"You are threatening me with homicide! That is punishable even by the magical law! I'll call the guards directly and-!"
The wizard intercom he had been about to use exploded under his finger. He yelped like a bitten puppy. This intercom fizzed and spat, and sparked a blazing white light from inside.
"I can kill you in many ways"
He trembled
"I do not want your blood. I don't need it. I would like you to very reasonably remove the order to Harry leave me at Hogwarts. I will be very happe with just that."
"You can't- I don't- it's nearly- You turned against us!"
"Not at all, but if you insist on being stubborn and uselessly proud, I will be drastic."
"You daren't! You daren't! Dumbledore, say something! Or did YOU teach her to be like this! I know what you want! You shall not have my post!"
"Nobody wants your post" said Clare, losing patience "Leave my mentor alone. He's the one that kept me from doing this sooner. You should be licking his feet in gratitude"
Fudge had been cowering behind his desk. But at the mention of being grateful to Dumbledore, his rival, of humiliation in licking his feet, he rebelled to his wise fear.
"You base! You are nothing but a spoilt girl who wants to get all she wants, or else throws and tantrum" he stood up and began trusting a pointed finger at her with every word
"But-you-shall-not! Spoilt children need only a stricter educator! You shall do as I say! You are going to Norway TOMORROW, and you shall NEVER see Harry Potter again!"
"You're playing with fire" mumbled Dumbledore
"Shut your mouth! You! You are the one behind this! I know! You are no longer a Headmaster! You are a convict! I'll arrest you for treason! I'll-"
Fudge, red faced, suddenly stopped his tirade of threats and choked. He lifted a hand to his throat and tried to speak again, but all that came out was a whistle like noise of breath.
Clare was looking at him with utter hatred and disgust. She would not have looked in that way at a slug she had stepped on. He was human, and that made it worst, because he was fully aware of his actions.
"Lady-"
"I said drop the 'Lady`"
"As you wish. What have you done, Miss Dawson?"
"I have only removed his vocal chords-" Fudge's eyes widened and he began flailing his arm around and mouthing like a gold fish "- because I was fed up of hearing him ramble"
She turned to Fudge and he immediately froze. "Spoilt am I? Do you want me to show you how spoilt I can be?"
Fudge began to shake his head violently and mouth `no` with vehemence. However Clare had a hand around her ear and her eyes closed.
"No answer? Silence is ascent"
Fudge began to move frantically. He seemed suddenly on the verge of hysteria.
"Fine then, your decision is taken. There are, dear Minister, so many ways of killing a man. You don't have to kill him at all. See me kill you and leave you alive, dear Minister" she flicked her fingers "Or should I say, dear Anonymous?"
Fudge just gaped- being able to do nothing else- and trembled.
The silence was broken when the door opened, letting in a very absorbed looking Percy, a box in hand, flipping through the printed pages inside. He was wearing a very prim and plain dress robe, probably the wizard equivalent of tie and suit.
Percy stopped short when he saw Dumbledore, resting against the door frame.
"Why good morning Professor. I was not expecting you before the afternoon. Take a seat I pray you"
Percy pulled the door shut behind him and walked in a few paces. He gave Clare a respectful smile, but stopped short when he saw Fudge, standing right behind the desk.
"Excuse me, but I would like to sit at my desk please" said Percy, politely but steadily "If you can please move, Mr . . .?"
Fudge could have fainted. He was as white as a sheet, but as it was, he began pointing as Clare, at the desk and then beating himself on the chest.
"Memory is fickle. No one in England remembers who Fudge is now" said Clare, looking at the flailing man.
"I fear I do not understand madam" said Percy.
"Don't trouble yourself Peter, it's a trivial matter. I'm sure a Minister of magic such as yourself has other things of a higher calibre to worry about." Clare answered curtly
At this, Fudge grabbed the plaque at the front of the desk and looked at it. It too said that "Mr Peter Weasley" was the "Minister of Magic, highest authority at the MOM of England"
Fudge put it down with a shaking hand, opened his mouth wheezed and began to cry with choked, hollow sobs.
"Oh dear, is anything wrong?" asked Percy in alarm
"No it's just a burst of gratitude" she answered. Then she turned to Fudge "Memory is fickle. It is easily modified"
"I'm afraid I still do not understand" said Percy
"Peace Minister" Clare told him, watching Fudge's face and leaking eyes turn to look as if he had been fed cod liver oil "It is nothing of importance. He is the homeless I wrote to you about. He seems to be mute, but from his gesticulation, I understood that he believes he is the Minister"
"Indeed" said Percy, narrowing his eyes at the sobbing Fudge
"I think it would be wise to have him cured, perhaps?" said Clare, a smile on her face that spoke of innocence, but that chilled the blood
"Lock him up, you mean?" asked Percy
Fudge gave a gurgling moan and collapsed onto the Minister's chair that had been his a split second before, but was not now his anymore. He had realised, the hard way, that he was everything but indispensable. He had pushed his luck to a limit, and had been killed- without dying. Who could he turn to? No one knew him, and who would accept an accusation of defamation or threat from a nobody? Moreover a nobody who had been declared deranged!
It was not her that had made him a nobody, but he himself, his own actions, that had driven him to become a nobody. She didn't need him. She was a Muggle Witch- the Lady Muggle Witch- and she had spoken rightly when she said that to her all creatures where equal. The Minister, a house-elf, a dog, a dragon, any minor or major beast made no difference to her. All where equal to her gaze. She was like providence, no, Nature- no! Mother Nature herself. Who gave and took according to behaviour with the powers of the planet. She was Benevolence, she was Element, she was Strength, Love, Courage, Noble Feelings- but also Wrath, Calamity, Tragedy- Punishment. She had all in her fingers and was all inside of her. He had mistaken her for the simple human her body belied her to be. He had forgotten the immense amount of magic she represented, but also the strength of a woman in love.
His sobs gave no sign of subsiding as these thoughts assaulted his mind.
"Do not exaggerate, Miss Dawson" said Dumbledore softly from behind her.
"You think it's enough?" asked Clare, looking at him from over his shoulder, never leaving her chair.
"I believe so. He shall be ready to sign his death sentence now, if you ask him" answered her mentor.
"Do not tempt me, Albus" she said, then she turned once more to the sobbing, mute, identityless man (and Percy was left blinking in confusion)
"Are you ready to deal with me now?" she asked him "Shall we find a compromise?"
These words were like a balm to his maddening mind. The Queen and Lady he beheld in front of him when he lifted his eyes was once more Benevolence, anger subsided. She was once more a patient mother who now wanted to see her silly, repenting child do the right thing.
He nodded fervently
"Fine"
She snapped her fingers. The world froze
"Now, you can talk" she said
"Thank you! Thank you Lady!"- she rolled her eyes
"I'll restore you back to your position, but only if you sign and make effective a counter ordinance for Harry's mail, immediately, and I shall not move from Hogwarts" Clare grinned evilly "Or, else . . ."
"Don't worry! Don't worry, I will immediately!"
"Excellent" said Clare. She snapped her fingers. Percy, the only person in the room to be effected by the time spell (she didn't need his nosy questions in the background while she talked.) looked extremely odd frozen in mid blink.
She pointed at the door, and the frozen Percy came to life, walked to the door, opened it, walked out and closed the door behind him.
Then she closed her eyes, breathed out, and opened her eyes again. Then she snapped her fingers for the last time.
The curtains fluttered back down to the sill as the wind began moving again. The silence broke as two birds continued their twittering flight, and the people below continued their errands.
"Everything is back to normality as you know it" said Clare, resting back in the chair "No one remembers what happened. It was easier for me to just erase my spell, and it's safer for you this way"
"Thank you! Thank you Lady, you are-"
"I did my part, now do your own"
"Yes, yes directly"
He produced a clean parchment from one of the drawers and wrote a short message
"Here, is it good enough?"
Clare snatched out the parchment. It said:
"I, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic of England, order the restriction ordinance made for Harry Potter, the captain of the Hit Wizards section in the department of magical regulations be removed. The search on his mail is to be immediately lifted. Any disobedience of this order will be severely punished."
"Passable" said Clare, although her eyes betrayed her gladness "If anything should happen to change again, I'd rather you contact me before it takes effect. Remember that"
"Most certainly" said Fudge reassuringly
"Very Well" she said, standing up. Dumbledore stood and walked to her, offering her his hand "Remember" she repeated. When Fudge nodded, she continued "I could easily have taken over your mind and made you my doll. It would have cost me less energy. Remember, I speared you because I am not against you. I have nothing against you. I respect your authority and duty as a Minister. All I ask for is the one I love."
"I understand. I was foolish"
"But now it is all mended, and it's over. There should never be thrifts and misunderstandings like this anymore. We all have a common enemy, that is a match even for me. If we do not work together, we shall lose miserably. Come now," Clare extended her hand "I have managed to convince a centaur to be more cordial, shall I manage to convince a Minister?"
Fudge bowed his head and took her hand
"A Minister's duty is to take care nothing ever happens to his wizarding community. I am only a figure head now, because you are more of a Minister than I have ever been"
"No. You can be stubborn-" she smiled "- but you are kind a heart. You have not done any irresolvable harm to the country. You are kind at heart, and you're a good Minister. Now you will be an even better one"
He kissed her hand and let it go. She smiled at both men
"Thank you, Lady Muggle Witch"
"Goodbye, Minister of Magic"
They dissapparated.
Fudge grabbed the parchment on his desk and rushed out to deliver the order, but before he did not forget to stop and look at the plaque on his desk. Now it read once more "Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, highest post in the MOM of England" he left smiling
At Hogwarts, Clare and Dumbledore apparated in the Headmaster's office.
"Miss Dawson, I would like to compliment you on your excellent master of powers. I'm impressed"
"Thank you Mentor" said Clare wearily "But it still makes me very tired" she walked to the door "Excuse me, I need to rest"
"One more thing, Miss Dawson"
She turned to look at him
"I really appreciated the manner you parted with the Minister. You should think about the possibility of a diplomatic career in the future" His eyes were twinkling with mirth.
Clare's laughter, light and hearty, echoed down the mobile stairs.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
All the men around him began to move again. It had been difficult to refuse the inviting tickle of lull the seductive spell had offered. Even he, Voldemort, had been hard set against eh powerful magic. But it was not powerful in force. It was powerful in sweetness, in laughter- its power lay solely in pureness, that was as attractive and lethal as nectar of a carnivorous plant was to an incompetent insect.
Incompetent like all his men, even the strongest. They had fallen to the spell of a succulent temptress. She was manipulating minds now, to her leisure and pleasure. All his men had been effected. She had spelled the whole of the English Island. She was a formidable creature of the most powerful and enticing magic.
Had she been practising? Had she been just playing? Working on her magic or simply exploiting it; recognising her power and beginning to be infected by thoughts of conquest? That is how it had invaded him. A mere game, a fantasy where he was seated on a high throne, revenged and powerful, feared and obeyed. Then the fantasies had grown, multiplied and divided as though it was a living creature of its own brain growing inside his mind, developing into blind ambition and maturing into blood thirsty greed.
He looked around hi through his eyes. Magic. His eyes were magic also. He could see, smell and hear things other people could not even imagine. The taste and smell of fear. The shape of sound. The noise of scent.
He narrowed his eyes, and secretly thanked his father for having been the bastard he had been. It had made him complete- in his hatred.
"Stop" he hissed. And all the men stopped in their tracks, frozen, as they had been but a few minutes before
"What is it master?" asked the boldest of them. Ice-grey eyes stared out from behind the mask
"Do you, any of you, remember what happened a few seconds ago?"
Many of them looked at each other. The grey eyes looked on steadily at him in anticipation.
"Incompetent fools" he said. They flinched. "She has been on the move. Time stopped twice, and there was a memory charm working freely on all of your minds, as easily as though you were the lesser of muggle brats! My Queen has proven herself so to you without being here"
He turned from them and went through the tapestry that divided his chamber from main dome. He needed to be apart from the lesser men, because for the first time in his existence, he had found a creature whose magical powers were a match to his own, and instead of feeling anger, instead of being over-ridden by the impulse to eliminate the threat, he was overcome by an uncontrollable lust, a desire from his thirst for her powers that reminded him that he was a male. Never had his ambitions led him to lust. But the desire for that powers of the woman led him to the desire for the woman herself.
This made him all the more determined to get what he wanted.