[3/31/03] Authoritrix Notes: I spell checked this one too. T.y.

[Original] Authoritrix Notes: Here you go, the interlude, a explaination of something rather important. You might expect another one of these on Voldemort/Tom Riddle later.

*IMPORTANT NOTE: This version of Dark Airt is much different, mainly because I had to do that, to make it fit in with my story. For example, as much as I believe there is a Satan (Yes, and there is a God too, according to my faith) I will NOT being placing him in this tale. Dark Airt is a folk tale anyhow, changing by word of mouth. If you are interested in the original versions of Dark Airt [A.K.A: The Black School/Black Airt] Ask me, and I'll give the page to you, because it isn't showing up on here. Ty.*

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter J.k.Rowling does.

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MYTHUS OF DARK AIRT, THE

INTERLUDE: "The Tale of Dark Airt"

- by trsolarcat/rocketsolarcat -

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Alsto stood over the boy gazing at his silent figure once more; still unable to shake the bizarre feeling the boy had placed in him. Once long ago, he'd been called Saemund of Dark Airt, yet it was never to his liking. It was a daunting jeer of the student body that had labeled him with that name, and it seemed to stick.

Sweat dripped from his body, carrying the boy all the way to his quarters had exhausted him, pushing his dampened hair from his face he lingered at the side of the chair for a few minutes longer. It was finally Agnes that moved him, his fear of the squawking bird's noisy protest waking Snape compelled him to stagger over towards the mess of black feathers and scold him once more.

After feeding the bird (which in some cases seemed to defeat the purpose of scolding Agnes all together) Alsto weakly headed into his lightless bedroom, where it seemed even the fire's glow didn't help the darkness. Slipping into his evening clothes, his eyes then fell to the dark bookcase to the far end of the bedroom, glancing at one section. The section where he instinctively knew the exact book he was looking for was shelved, many nights before he'd unshelved the book, stirring up as many old memories as dust. This time as he grabbed it, he was hesitant to take it.

Returning to the light of the hearth, he gave Severus another glance, seeing him still unmoved, the professor sat in the chair. Opening the book, which was bent over to hold it's place, he began to scan it once more, the pages were old and worn from over use. He came to the top slowly reading the story he'd come to know by heart.

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In Iceland, or as some recall in Scotland, there is was a school to which none know if it is truly still there, or if it is not and has vanished along with the knowledge it held there. A school, which most call the Dark Airt, as most wizarding schools, was hidden from the eyes of muggles and other non-magic using communities. Also like other schools of the wizarding kind, it has professors and teachers (though a rumor had spread once they had none) that teach their pupils many different kinds of magic. Yet, unlike other schools Dark Airt taught their young wizards something that was forbidden in the magic world. Other than that of legal magic they also were learnt in the Dark Arts and other forms of magic.

It was not known to the Ministry, other than simple childish rumors that the pupils of Dark Airt could curse someone in more violent ways than ever thought imaginable.

Another thing not common in the wizarding world, which Dark Airt contributed to, was the fact it was completely underground. The school didn't allow the students or staff to leave either, during the entire year, so by the end of the year many of the students were so happy to see sunlight once more they forgot half their lessons while dancing in the light of the sun they had not seen for six months. Happiness from seeing the light of the sun wasn't the sole reason the student's were glad to be away from Dark Airt at the end of summer.

Many have said, the Headmaster of Dark Airt was an evil monster, which most called The Prince of Darkness, but it seemed highly unlikely that it was indeed the Prince of Darkness, and more likely that he was just a cursed soul. Rumors spread every year that when the end of the summer came, and everyone was rushing outside to see the sunlight again, that the Headmaster would kidnap the soul of the student that was last out of the entire school. As the end of school grew nearer the students became tenser; no one wanted to be the last student out of Dark Airt.

One year, there were three students: Saemund, Arnason and Haldaan (their surnames were all that was known), decided that between the three of them one would be the last out of Dark Airt, that year. Saemund declared himself the bravest of them all, and told them he would risk being the last out.

So when the day finally came, Saemund gave his farewells to his friends, in the case that he didn't make it, and watched them slowly go up the long flight of stairs to the surface world once more to see the light of day. When they had all gotten out, Saemund began to ascend the stairs also, hearing behind him a faint voice,"You are mine..."

Behind Saemund a great shadow hung over him, the boy spun on his heels meeting the form, Saemund fell against the stairs staring into the hideous face of the Headmaster, red eyes and gnashing teeth. The Headmaster made a grab for Saemund's arm, but the boy dodged it, getting to his feet he dashed up the stairs hoping to find the top of them at any second. He heard the Headmaster right behind him, screaming, but just as he thought he would never see the light of day again--a shimmer of light hit the top of the stairs.

Saemund flung himself outside, near the open door, his friends were all there, shock and joy filled their faces, he had made it out alive. Getting up, Saemund rose his hand in triumph, his shadow was cast on the wall near to the gaping hole of a staircase Saemund had just came from. Suddenly the Headmaster's arm emerged from the stairwell and grabbed Saemund once more, pulling him backwards. The boy quickly yelled,"Headmaster, if you truly want the last person--look at the one who follows me."

The Headmaster stopped, dropping Saemund; he made a grab for the shadow on the wall, pulling it from Saemund, then shrinking back into the shadows once more.

Saemund was free, yet as he turned to see the Headmaster descending, he realized he had no shadow left on his body.

And didn't have a shadow ever again.

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Alsto closed the book drowsily, giving one last glance to Severus before putting his head to rest against the chair. Letting the book slip from his hands, and fall into the sides of the chair's cushion.

Somehow he'd have to convince the Snape's boy that he wasn't anything close to Saemund of Dark Airt, which seemed quite a task, for a man with no shadow.

Authoritrix notes: ^-^; I hope that fixed somethings. hehe...Sorry, I tried to give it a "folk tale" sense of feeling to it, and I hope it didn't make it sound neanderthal. Haha...I'll continue with the normal story up next. Thank you!