Eheh…I know, I know, I promised this one would come out sooner…  *sigh* Uhg, honestly, graduation speeches, and it's only eighth grade, folks!  Really, I would have worked on this more, if only I didn't get picked to give a speech…aanyway…. This is probably the best chapter yet, in my opinion.  I've started off with a different style than before, so I hope this satisfies all of your Harry Potter needs until next month!!  *cheers*  Yippie!  Darn, I only hope it doesn't mess up all of my plans…damn.  I'm gonna wanna do a whole new fic after the fifth one!  Jeez…I better hurry up with this one…which gives me a really good idea…Hey, how many of you wanna get a bet started?  How many of you think that Ginny will die, huh?  I so know she will!  And also, Ron and Hermione are so going to get together!  And Mrs. Figg will so be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.  And I'll bet you anything that Crookshanks is one of her cats!  Bwa ha!  Oo;;;  Well, anyway…enjoy!

Chapter summary:  Shocking revelations, a bit of a back-story, some foreshadowing, and even some Crissy and Alex.  More humor, hooray!  A hint of romance, too, but no actual snogging.  Sorry, you'll just have to wait until…uh, next chapter probably, which means not until, oh, a few more months, judging by how long it took me to get THIS out…-.-;;;  But, school's over, so I'll be writing as much as I can, I promise!

Silent Torment

Part V:

Angel of Darkness

She hated the sun.  Its light was always too hot in the summer, too cold in the winter.  The rays it generated seemed like they were always mocking her with their cheerfulness.  It was as if they were trying to pry into her life, to barge into the barriers that she had so carefully erected around her soul.

Perhaps this was why she had chosen a life of darkness.

She loved the darkness.  It was warm, comforting, safe, never changing.  The moon was so peaceful, waiting a safe distance away as if knowing not to come too close.  It was everything she needed to escape.

The only way for her to cope with this dreadful curse of sunlight, she thought, was for her to show the world the darkness that existed.  Consequently, when he came to her, she needed very little persuasion.

Thus she became the angel of darkness.

How did she become the angel of darkness, you ask?  Well that is quite an interesting story, and a long one, at that.  Would you like to hear the story?  This is not a story for the faint of heart, I must warn you.  I advise you to leave and never come back.  No?  You still want to hear it?  Well, my dear friend, curiosity killed the cat, remember.  But satisfaction brought it back, you say?  Very well then.  You may want a blanket, in case the story becomes too gruesome for you delicate ears.  Your hands may become cold, your heartbeat still.  Still here, are you?  Well, then, don't say I didn't warn you.  I suppose it all began, one day, very long ago…

****

It was one of those nights at Hogwarts when everyone was restlessly roving the castle, much to Filch's displeasure, Hermione noted as she hurried past the disgruntled caretaker's glare and into the library.

One quick glance around the crowded room told her that Harry was not there.  She sighed and sat down at a table, opened a book, and began to read.

She hadn't been at it for five minutes when she slammed the book shut in vexation, stood up, and marched over to the bookshelf.  She stared at the titles on the spines without really taking anything in; her eyes felt glazed as they listlessly scanned for an interesting read.  Then a hand touched her shoulder.

She started and turned around, to find herself face to face with Draco Malfoy.  She wasn't sure

whether to be pleased or annoyed as his fluid eyes locked with hers.  She cleared her throat.

"What is it, Malfoy?"

There was a slight pause.  "You're looking for Potter, aren't you?" he said quietly.

"So what if I am?" she snapped, a bit taken aback by his unusual show of interest.

Draco abandoned her cagey approach.  "You might want to try looking somewhere else, like the grounds, or…Cho Chang's bedroom," he finished cunningly.  Hermione shot him an angry glance, but found he was no longer interested in this exchange; his eyes had gone out of focus, and he was staring at someone behind Hermione.  When she turned, she saw that the arrival of Crissy had been the due distraction.  She had sat down at a table near Hermione's and was reading a small, thick book.  The next person that entered Hermione was more surprised to see.  Alex Prelling was making her way to Crissy's table, her hair slightly disheveled from her and Ron's earlier snogging, telling Hermione that she had been away longer than she had thought.  Alex grinned when Crissy looked up and spotted her.  She motioned for her to sit down next to her, which she did, picking up Crissy's book as Crissy began brushing and braiding her best friend's long, dark hair.  Most Slytherins and Gryffindors looked askance of their extremely close friendship, because they had been friends long before their move to Hogwarts; some still maintained that they were in rival houses, however, and therefore should likewise be enemies.  But whatever the general public was saying, they didn't let it influence them in the slightest; friends they had become, and friends they would remain.

Hermione shifted her gaze back to Draco's face; his expression was difficult to read.  He had let fall his protective sentinel that he had placed around his soul, leaving it raw and exposed.  His eyes held some sort of longing and desire as he looked at Crissy, but at the same time he looked lost, sad.

"Do you love her?" Hermione asked him softly.  But almost immediately she wished she hadn't, because when he flicked his eyes toward her, instantly his shielding barriers sprang up again, his eyes mirror-like once more, betraying no inner emotion whatsoever, giving him the outward appearance of being cool and indifferent.  A wan smile touched his lips.  He shrugged sophisticatedly.

"Does it really matter?" he asked her evenly.  He looked at her down his nose in a disdainful way, then walked off.

Damn him, she thought, watching him go, and damn his cryptic answers.

****

Harry stared at Snape in astonishment.  This was not the Professor Snape that he knew, but he was beginning to think that he would never find anyone the way he had left them.  This Professor Snape had not even the slightest air of a professor.  More like a trained Hit Wizard for the Ministry of Magic.  He was dressed in flowing black satin robes and snakeskin boots, complete with steel toes.  His complexion was so fair that he resembled a vampire.  His hair was not long and greasy, but very short and slicked back in a manner like that of Malfoy's.  His face was twisted in a much different expression: sad, aloof.  Across his forehead was a silver-white band, a scar apparently won when he was struck by a curse.

"Come here, boy," he said softly, beckoning Harry closer.  The tone of his voice was much different as well; indeed, it was less of a tone but more like a hoarse grunt.  It told of someone who was tired of everything, of living in general. 

Harry moved slowly forward, apprehension settling once again in his stomach.  When he did, he saw Snape's eyes for the first time.  And what he saw frightened him. 

The man's eyes were not the eyes of the Snape back home.  These were the eyes of someone much older, of someone who had grown up having to fight to stay alive, of someone who had seen too much in a small amount of time.  But that was not what had frightened Harry.  What frightened him was that his eyes were not normal eyes.  One was not an eye at all, merely a stretch of silvery skin.  The other, however, was small and beady, almost black.

Snape reached into the folds of his neat robes and pulled out a small crystal bottle.  It was filled with a clear liquid.  Harry recognized it as Veritaserum, and felt another pang of anxiety.  Without missing a beat, Snape opened the door to Harry's cell and crouched down.

"I see my appearance frightens you," he commented without emotion, noticing Harry staring at him.  "But rest assured, it will not be harmful lest you provoke it."  Harry wasn't quite sure what he meant by it, so he remained silent.

"Do you know what this is?" Snape asked softly, holding the crystal bottle in front of Harry's face.  Harry was about to reply when Ron interrupted loudly.

"Oh, for God's sake, he's been through enough!  Just let him alone!"

Snape's eyes flashed as he rounded on him, though Ron barely blinked.  The dementors behind him moved towards Ron's cell menacingly, but Snape waved them off.  "Leave us," he snapped, still glaring at Ron.

The dementors skulked out, and most of the cold left with them.  Snape turned back to Harry.

"It's a Veritaserum," Harry said quietly.  Snape looked somewhat surprised.  He recovered quickly and magicked a silver goblet into Harry's cell.  Pouring several drops of the potion into the water, he lifted it and handed it to Harry.

"You know what it does, then," Snape ground out.  Harry nodded nervously, taking the goblet.

"Drink," said Snape.  Harry did.

The effect was instantaneous.  Immediately, Harry's head was swimming, his mind blank.  His entire body turned numb; he could not hear, he could not feel.  It felt like being under the Imperius Curse, not being able to think….

What is your name?  a soft voice asked.

"Harry James Potter," Harry answered, unable to stop himself.

How did you come to be here?  the voice asked.

"A woman brought me…from a different world…"  The words seemed to pour from him, like blood from an opened wound.  There was nothing he could do to prevent himself from answering. 

There was a short pause before another question was asked.

A different world?  Now the voice was sharp, less patient than before.

"Yes…Voldemort wasn't powerful, Dumbledore was alive…"

Then came an unexpected question, one that almost shook Harry from his dream-like state:

Do you follow Voldemort?

Though he was dazed, he let out an emphatic, "NO!" that caused the spell to lift.  It was like being suddenly dashed with cold water….He blinked, and saw Snape staring at him with a peculiar expression.  Ron's mouth was hanging open as if on hinges.

"I see you can be trusted," Snape remarked abruptly.  Then he pulled out a long, black wand from a deep pocket within his robes and whispered an incantation that Harry had never heard before.  Suddenly, the room began to glow with a strange amber hue, and the dripping noise of the water on the walls vanished; the only thing he could hear was breathing. 

He looked up at Snape, who was looking down at Harry with a serious expression.

"There is a story I must tell you, but first you must swear to not divulge it to anyone," he said softly.  He simply stared at Harry, who got the idea and nodded.

"Years ago, Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, was the most powerful wizard in the world.  He defeated the Dark wizard Grindlewald in 1945, and discovered several new uses for dragon's blood.  He worked alongside Nicolas Flamel, who was the only known owner of a Philosopher's Stone at the time.

"But as time wore on, so did he; his powers were weakening, and another, more powerful wizard rose.  At first he went by the name Tom Riddle.  But he is now known as Lord Voldemort.  You know this, of course.  Here, however, Voldemort defeated Dumbledore quite easily; families fell before his feet, worshipping him like a god, praising him, begging him for mercy…the school was torn down and rebuilt in Voldemort's vision; he began seeking children with unusual powers…such as the Soul-Search, as you saw.  These children were taken from their families, a ransom, in a way, to keep their families in line.  As long as Mr. Weasley is here, for example, his family must remain faithful to the Dark Lord, or else he dies.

"Before, I mentioned that at the time, Nicolas Flamel was the only known owner of a Philosopher's Stone.  Flamel is dead.  His Stone is in possession of Voldemort.  With it, Voldemort lives forever, and he can conjure anything at a whim.  The only way to destroy him is by destroying the Stone.  But Voldemort has many spies, and every attempt made thus far has been in vain.

"For many years now, there has been a secret rebellion to vanquish the Dark Lord; however, we have yet to succeed.  I am one of the leaders of this revolt.  The agents you need to be wary of, however, are Wormtail, Voldemort's spy; young Master Malfoy and his several mistresses; and many others.  Mr. Weasley, I assume, will guide you in avoiding these enemies.  Beware, for Wormtail has the power of turning into a rat, and may listen in on conversations between the two of you; therefore, you must not talk of the plan.  We will be in touch."

With that, Snape slammed the cell door shut. 

"Finite incantatum," he murmured, and the amber glow of the room disappeared.  The steady dripping of the liquid on the walls returned; it seemed to hammer on the stone like rocks rather than water after the smothering silence of the spell.  Snape waved his wand again, and the dementors came sweeping back into the room, the torches dimming, the cold suffocating.  After one brief nod from Snape, they swept out of the chamber and vanished from sight into the darkness beyond.

****

"So tell me exactly how you got the detention again?" Alex asked Crissy in amusement.

"Well," Crissy replied huffily, "I knocked over my cauldron, right?  So Snape asked me what I had to say for myself.  All I said was 'Surfs up, Sir!'  I guess he doesn't have much of a sense of humor…he never liked me very much, either."

Alex snorted.  "That couldn't have anything to do with the time you put a pile of ferret dung on his desk with a card that said, 'Love from Draco Malfoy', could it?"

Crissy appeared unfazed.  She blinked innocently.  "Oh, that?  Well, that was just killing off two birds with one stone.  I hate Snape, and Draco and I were fighting at the time, remember?  And we always play dirty while we're fighting…"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she walked past their table.  Those two were an interesting pair.  Crissy was constantly getting into trouble, and Alex was constantly working to keep her out of trouble.

Hermione had long since given up on pursuing an interesting read ever since Malfoy had turned up to taunt her.  What she really needed now was to find Ron, or someone who would know where Harry was.  She sighed, rubbing her hands over her eyes in a vain attempt to rid herself of the tiredness that was creeping over her.  She knew Harry wanted to be left alone, but she couldn't shake this lingering feeling that that wasn't the best thing for him at the moment.  How she knew, she could not tell.  Maybe she should just go find Ron…

****

The sunlight bore down upon her moon-pale skin.  She wrinkled her nose in displeasure as it beat on her relentlessly, and wished it would simply melt away into blessed darkness.  Why, she thought sullenly, must he make us go outside?

The Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Professor Spock, was leading them out into the warm sunshine on the first day of class.  The girl rolled her eyes as she watched the group of goody-goody Gryffindor girls squeal in adoration at the sight of the young, handsome man that would be teaching them this year.  She shook her head.  Among them was a very pretty redhead that she already despised, not because she knew her personally, but because she was…jealous.  Jealous of the way her smile dimpled and grabbed the attention of boys without even seeming to try, or her blazing green eyes that were always sparkling with laughter.  Jealous of the way she could always get people talking, how she could brighten up a rainy day just by making an appearance.  It just wasn't fair.

Crysania could feel the heat of an unexplainable anger tinge the tips of her cheekbones.  She looked the other way, but was only met with the sight of a cluster of boys who were looking slightly putout that they weren't receiving as much attention as they normally would.  Typical, Crysania thought darkly, Just typical of those big-headed Gryffindors…

A tap on her shoulder made her spin around.  A bashful-looking Ravenclaw boy was toeing the ground nervously.  She raised her eyebrow at him.

"What do you want?" she snapped.  The boy backed away, running his hand nervously through his curly brown hair.

"Oh…I—was—wondering…doyouwanttogotoHogsmeadewithmeSaturday?" he said in a rush, his cheeks turning bright red.

Crysania blinked.  She could not remember last time she had been asked on a date, and had given up on ever hoping to be asked.  She stared at the boy, studying him…he wasn't that bad looking, and she had heard several girls giggling and pointing his way, only to hide their faces when he looked at them.  She smiled inwardly.  What a triumph over those Gryffindor girls this would be.

"What's your name?" she asked sweetly, lowering her eyes so she could look at him through her long eyelashes. 

"Edmund," he said, looking immensely relieved.  "So—I'll meet you in the common room?  After dinner?"

"Uh…of course."  She smiled at him coyly, and he walked away.

The smile dropped from her face as quickly as an anchor, as if it was painful for her to hold it in place.  She shook her head.

This was going to be another long year.

***

Okay, that was dumb.  But I just needed something at the end to keep you guys thinking, "Wait a second!  What happens now?"  But if you're not, that's okay too, cuz I think I'm losing my writing talent.  Poetry is still going strong, but…well, maybe it's because I haven't read the books in so long.  *sighs*  Well, now that book five is coming out in a matter of weeks, I should have more ideas…I just hope that it doesn't interfere with my plans…but anyway, if, a few weeks after book five comes out and I decide to update, and something doesn't make sense with the prequel, just…go with it, pretend like it does make sense…yeah.  I wasn't planning on letting this take so long.  Special thanks to Erin for getting me back on my feet.  And thanks for that wonderful professor name…Spock.  Love it.  Toodles, all, and I will be working double time.  No more school!  Hooray!  Now, review, people!  If you don't, I may be forced to turn this into a slash fic…Ron/Harry style!  *gasps*  E-gads, no!  Well, now I shall hand it over to the Dancing Noid!  Da na na!!!!

Noid:  *dances*  Review, dammit!  Or I shall attack you with my Floppy Ears of Death™!  MUAHAHAHAHA!!…

Audience: …

….Yeah.  Oo;  Don't ask.  *coughs*  REVIEW!!