A/N: As promised in my author's note, here's the update.
-Anna Dearest
Chapter Sixteen
"Get up," Voldemort sneered at the bedraggled, half-naked man in front of him. His body was lined with scars, some old, and some fresh. "Pathetic excuse for a werewolf, you are. Think society will ever accept you? No, but I offered you this. I offered you company among us, yet you refused."
"I won't help you," the man shuddered out, a stream of blood trickling out of his mouth.
"That's what you think. Pity, you won't have a choice. Lestrange," the Dark Lord called, beckoning Bellatrix forward. "Give him the potion."
"Yes, my lord," she replied gleefully, striding with purpose torwards the shaking man. She yanked his head back forcefully as he attempted to fight back in his weak state. With a cry of pain, the last of the potion slipped down his throat.
"Back away now, Bella," Voldemort instructed as the man began to claw at his skin. "Amusing reaction," he hissed.
"Bloody hell," Harry muttered. The others at the table looked up at him in mild astonishment, as it was usually Ron mumbling curses. They exchanged worried glances as his hand went up to his scar.
"What is it?" Hermione asked worriedly.
"He's excited about something, extremely happy," Harry ground out between clenched teeth. All the students in the hall looked up expectantly as the mail arrived. Surprising Harry, a ruffled looking barn owl swooped down in front of him. Picking the note up, he read aloud, "Harry, Ron, and Hermione, meet us in the Defense Against the Dark Arts room after dinner."
"Who's it from?" Ron asked, leaning over to look at the handwriting.
"I don't know."
All of the occupants of the room looked up as the four Gryffindor students entered, looking worried as they scanned the assembled crowd. Gathered in the room were many of the professors, the defense team, and Mr. Weasley.
"Ah, welcome," Professor Dumbledore said kindly from his chair.
"What is this, sir?" Ron asked worriedly.
"Consider it an extra lesson!" Tonks said excitedly from her spot leaning against one of the walls.
"A lesson in what?" Hermione asked suspiciously.
"The enemy," Dumbledore replied solemnly. "And as Harry would have told you all sooner or later, I thought you may want to see for yourselves."
"Oh," the responded as one.
"We're going to show you so that it can't be used against you," Dumbledore continued. He then looked to Jonathan and nodded.
"Voldemort is well known for his means of gathering followers and defeating the enemy," he began. "He simply gives them what they want, what they desire more than anything at that particular moment. If they are in pain, he makes it go away or increase tenfold. If they're afraid, he gives them support or crushes them. It's quite simple really.
"One spell in particular was used in excess by his followers during the last war. Voldemort himself sees no need in the petty magic of it, and conjures it on his own, whatever 'it' may be. Now the spell we're going to teach you is not for your use, but to teach you to fight it."
"How could we fight what we most desire?" Hermione asked in growing curiousity.
"Another spell," Fox interjected. "One that you use on yourself. It gives you a strange immunity, a clearer sight you could say."
"Well, why are there so many people here?" Harry asked.
"You're not the only ones who need to learn this," Jonathan sighed. "Alright, the incantation is 'desiderio.' The counter-spell is 'occhio chiaro.'"
"Occhio chiaro," Harry mumbled to himself over and over again.
"We'll show you how it works," Jonathan said, stepping away from his sibling. "She'll cast the spell on me, and I'll fight it."
Fox stepped forward, pointing her wand in the direction of Jonathan. The rest of the room clearly heard her say "Desiderio!"
The royal blue light from the spell hit Jonathan in the chest, causing a cloud to form at eye level with him. From this cloud came a completely identical version of himself. Pointing his wand as his temple, he shakily shouting "Occhio chiaro!"
They all watched in awe and confusion as the figure of the Jonathan look-alike began to flicker and fade. "Finite incantatem," Fox said, pointing her wand at the remaining figure.
"Desiderio is quite a complicated charm, and quite hard to fight," Jonathan said shakily.
"If we all saw the same thing, then why did you have to point the wand at YOUR temple, rather than the figure?" Hermione asked.
"Because 'the figure' came directly from my own mind," he stated. "Did you notice how the figure began to form at eye level? That's why. The belief that eyes are the window to the soul isn't complete folly."
"So everyone spread out," Dumbledore instructed. "One by one, the spell will be cast on you by someone who knows how to perform this task. Don't worry, you're perfectly safe, as we are not trying to use this against you to our advantage."
"Oh, that's reassuring," Ron mumbled as everyone spread out.
"Desiderio!" Fox called, pointing her wand at him. Everyone in the room laughed as one of the house elves materialize holding a tray of food.
"I didn't eat much at dinner!" he defended. It continued much in this manner for the rest of the evening, leaving everyone in the room dreadfully tired and drained when they were finished.
"Very good. Much better than I expected," Dumbledore applauded, standing up from his chair. There was that familiar twinkle in his eye as he bid them all goodnight.
"That was certainly interesting," Remus said around a yawn as they made their way towards the staircase. Harry was walking slightly ahead of them with Sirius in dog form at his side. Stifling a yawn of his own, Harry stepped down onto the first stair and suddenly lost his balance, Sirius quickly following.
"Harry!" Hermione shouted as her friend tumbled to the bottom. She took off and made it to the stop of the stairs before Remus' hand stopped her. "What?"
Remus pointed his wand at the top stair and muttered "Reveal!"
Slowly but surely, a thick rope materialize, tied between the two rail on either side. "What the bloody-?" Ron started. Remus held up a hand to silence him, casting furtive glances around.
"You think there are more?" Hermione hissed.
"I don't know. Just be careful walking down."
The other three made it down to the landing successfully where they found Harry wincing as he massaged the back of his head, along with Sirius gingerly testing his weight on a paw.
"This can't be good," Harry joked.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione made it back to the dormitories with no further accidents, though Remus and Sirius had insisted on escorting them.
Harry lay in bed for the longest time thinking. That wasn't an ordinary prank. That was downright malicious, and someone could have been seriously injured or even killed. With that final thought, he settled into his pillow.
Harry woke up in a dimly lit room, a roaring fire providing the only light.
"This can't be good," he said, for the second time that night. Noticing movement to his left, Harry reached for his wand and turned to the source of the noise. Feeling for his wand still, he came out empty-handed.
"No, it can't." The voice belonged to Fox, who had just stepped out of the shadows beside him.
"Are we dreaming?" Harry asked. Fox only raised in eyebrow in a 'duh' expression. "I mean, normally, we weren't able to interact or anything."
"Did we ever try?" she asked, eyebrow still raised, making her seem slightly condescending.
"Well, I mean...um, no. I guess not," Harry finished lamely. He suddenly stood still as black-robed figures came into the room through a doorway that had previously been hanging open.
The formed a circle and waited in anticipation. A door on the other side of the room opened as the men shivered. Voldemort walked in and began making his way towards them, only to stop halfway. In an achingly slow motion, he turned to face Harry and Fox. A cruel smile twisted on his face.
"This is an interesting developement."
He was staring straight at them.
A/N- Sorry about how short it is, but this seemed the perfect place to stop. -Anna Dearest
Chapter Sixteen
"Get up," Voldemort sneered at the bedraggled, half-naked man in front of him. His body was lined with scars, some old, and some fresh. "Pathetic excuse for a werewolf, you are. Think society will ever accept you? No, but I offered you this. I offered you company among us, yet you refused."
"I won't help you," the man shuddered out, a stream of blood trickling out of his mouth.
"That's what you think. Pity, you won't have a choice. Lestrange," the Dark Lord called, beckoning Bellatrix forward. "Give him the potion."
"Yes, my lord," she replied gleefully, striding with purpose torwards the shaking man. She yanked his head back forcefully as he attempted to fight back in his weak state. With a cry of pain, the last of the potion slipped down his throat.
"Back away now, Bella," Voldemort instructed as the man began to claw at his skin. "Amusing reaction," he hissed.
"Bloody hell," Harry muttered. The others at the table looked up at him in mild astonishment, as it was usually Ron mumbling curses. They exchanged worried glances as his hand went up to his scar.
"What is it?" Hermione asked worriedly.
"He's excited about something, extremely happy," Harry ground out between clenched teeth. All the students in the hall looked up expectantly as the mail arrived. Surprising Harry, a ruffled looking barn owl swooped down in front of him. Picking the note up, he read aloud, "Harry, Ron, and Hermione, meet us in the Defense Against the Dark Arts room after dinner."
"Who's it from?" Ron asked, leaning over to look at the handwriting.
"I don't know."
All of the occupants of the room looked up as the four Gryffindor students entered, looking worried as they scanned the assembled crowd. Gathered in the room were many of the professors, the defense team, and Mr. Weasley.
"Ah, welcome," Professor Dumbledore said kindly from his chair.
"What is this, sir?" Ron asked worriedly.
"Consider it an extra lesson!" Tonks said excitedly from her spot leaning against one of the walls.
"A lesson in what?" Hermione asked suspiciously.
"The enemy," Dumbledore replied solemnly. "And as Harry would have told you all sooner or later, I thought you may want to see for yourselves."
"Oh," the responded as one.
"We're going to show you so that it can't be used against you," Dumbledore continued. He then looked to Jonathan and nodded.
"Voldemort is well known for his means of gathering followers and defeating the enemy," he began. "He simply gives them what they want, what they desire more than anything at that particular moment. If they are in pain, he makes it go away or increase tenfold. If they're afraid, he gives them support or crushes them. It's quite simple really.
"One spell in particular was used in excess by his followers during the last war. Voldemort himself sees no need in the petty magic of it, and conjures it on his own, whatever 'it' may be. Now the spell we're going to teach you is not for your use, but to teach you to fight it."
"How could we fight what we most desire?" Hermione asked in growing curiousity.
"Another spell," Fox interjected. "One that you use on yourself. It gives you a strange immunity, a clearer sight you could say."
"Well, why are there so many people here?" Harry asked.
"You're not the only ones who need to learn this," Jonathan sighed. "Alright, the incantation is 'desiderio.' The counter-spell is 'occhio chiaro.'"
"Occhio chiaro," Harry mumbled to himself over and over again.
"We'll show you how it works," Jonathan said, stepping away from his sibling. "She'll cast the spell on me, and I'll fight it."
Fox stepped forward, pointing her wand in the direction of Jonathan. The rest of the room clearly heard her say "Desiderio!"
The royal blue light from the spell hit Jonathan in the chest, causing a cloud to form at eye level with him. From this cloud came a completely identical version of himself. Pointing his wand as his temple, he shakily shouting "Occhio chiaro!"
They all watched in awe and confusion as the figure of the Jonathan look-alike began to flicker and fade. "Finite incantatem," Fox said, pointing her wand at the remaining figure.
"Desiderio is quite a complicated charm, and quite hard to fight," Jonathan said shakily.
"If we all saw the same thing, then why did you have to point the wand at YOUR temple, rather than the figure?" Hermione asked.
"Because 'the figure' came directly from my own mind," he stated. "Did you notice how the figure began to form at eye level? That's why. The belief that eyes are the window to the soul isn't complete folly."
"So everyone spread out," Dumbledore instructed. "One by one, the spell will be cast on you by someone who knows how to perform this task. Don't worry, you're perfectly safe, as we are not trying to use this against you to our advantage."
"Oh, that's reassuring," Ron mumbled as everyone spread out.
"Desiderio!" Fox called, pointing her wand at him. Everyone in the room laughed as one of the house elves materialize holding a tray of food.
"I didn't eat much at dinner!" he defended. It continued much in this manner for the rest of the evening, leaving everyone in the room dreadfully tired and drained when they were finished.
"Very good. Much better than I expected," Dumbledore applauded, standing up from his chair. There was that familiar twinkle in his eye as he bid them all goodnight.
"That was certainly interesting," Remus said around a yawn as they made their way towards the staircase. Harry was walking slightly ahead of them with Sirius in dog form at his side. Stifling a yawn of his own, Harry stepped down onto the first stair and suddenly lost his balance, Sirius quickly following.
"Harry!" Hermione shouted as her friend tumbled to the bottom. She took off and made it to the stop of the stairs before Remus' hand stopped her. "What?"
Remus pointed his wand at the top stair and muttered "Reveal!"
Slowly but surely, a thick rope materialize, tied between the two rail on either side. "What the bloody-?" Ron started. Remus held up a hand to silence him, casting furtive glances around.
"You think there are more?" Hermione hissed.
"I don't know. Just be careful walking down."
The other three made it down to the landing successfully where they found Harry wincing as he massaged the back of his head, along with Sirius gingerly testing his weight on a paw.
"This can't be good," Harry joked.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione made it back to the dormitories with no further accidents, though Remus and Sirius had insisted on escorting them.
Harry lay in bed for the longest time thinking. That wasn't an ordinary prank. That was downright malicious, and someone could have been seriously injured or even killed. With that final thought, he settled into his pillow.
Harry woke up in a dimly lit room, a roaring fire providing the only light.
"This can't be good," he said, for the second time that night. Noticing movement to his left, Harry reached for his wand and turned to the source of the noise. Feeling for his wand still, he came out empty-handed.
"No, it can't." The voice belonged to Fox, who had just stepped out of the shadows beside him.
"Are we dreaming?" Harry asked. Fox only raised in eyebrow in a 'duh' expression. "I mean, normally, we weren't able to interact or anything."
"Did we ever try?" she asked, eyebrow still raised, making her seem slightly condescending.
"Well, I mean...um, no. I guess not," Harry finished lamely. He suddenly stood still as black-robed figures came into the room through a doorway that had previously been hanging open.
The formed a circle and waited in anticipation. A door on the other side of the room opened as the men shivered. Voldemort walked in and began making his way towards them, only to stop halfway. In an achingly slow motion, he turned to face Harry and Fox. A cruel smile twisted on his face.
"This is an interesting developement."
He was staring straight at them.
A/N- Sorry about how short it is, but this seemed the perfect place to stop. -Anna Dearest