Evil from the Past
Author's Note: Thanks to mad sam, Judgemaster X, Adele Starminster, I AM EOWYN and my beloved classmates Sine-Noir and Manveri for reviewing me.
Beg pardon for the long pause between updates, due to the Long-Dreaded but Inevitable Re-opening of School, and my recuperating from major surgery (forced extraction of my 4 premolars) which resulted in unforeseen inconveniences, including severe blood loss. The one perk is that it's the closest I can get to experiencing being a vampire, it being important writers get firsthand experience to ensure accurate recounts, although my mouth is the one that's providing the blood. However, I doubt anyone would be interested in a thorough [and painfully exaggerated] description, so I shall get on with it.
Defence against the Dark Arts
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, England, 21st century
In the Great Hall, the line of first-years grew ever shorter as each placed the Sorting Hat on his or her head, waited for the Hat to call out a house, and then scurried to their new house. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat idly at the Gryffindor table, awaiting the feast.
"Gosh, I'm hungry," announced Ron.
"You always are," retorted Hermione with a disparaging glare.
Harry was scanning the Teachers' Table, to see if he could find the new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. Professors Sprout and Flitwick, in excited conversation, Professor Sinistra, Professor Snape – ugly as ever, thought Harry vindictively – Professor Dumbledore, his silver beard and the stars on his midnight blue robe twinkling in the light of the floating candles. And there – the newcomer.
Harry elbowed Ron and gestured at the newcomer. He was bald, his shaven crown reflecting the candlelight like the polished plates before them, and garbed in a blood-red robe with intricate gold embroidery and a high collar. His eyes were huge, dark, and cold. Harry realised this when the new teacher turned slowly to hold their glances with his own morbid one. The three hurriedly lowered their gazes.
"Ravenclaw!" called the Hat. The last first-year took it off and joined the aforementioned house.
"Oh good," said Ron, slightly heartened.
When the uproar had died down, Dumbledore got up. "A few things to mention before we start our long-awaited feast." Ron groaned. "Again, I should remind you that the Forbidden Forest is absolutely out of bounds to all students, and that only third-years and above may visit the village Hogsmeade. Also, I would like you all to welcome our new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Imhotep."
The mysterious bald man rose and bowed slightly. He was greeted with slight applause from the staff and students. Harry did not applaud. He was still transfixed by Professor Imhotep's frigid stare.
"Now," Dumbledore continued, "I am quite sure you are all exhausted and famished after your journey." Ron nodded hungrily. "So – we may now begin our feast." He clapped his hands, and the golden dishes filled with food. Ron whooped in delight and reached out for the sausages.
Harry leaned over and took some of the sausages as well. For a moment, his trepidation at the sight of Professor Imhotep evaporated as the feast opened in full swing. He and Ron began a comical battle over the sausages, while Hermione tutted in disapproval.
Imhotep watched them from his place. Laugh now, little girl. You won't get much of a chance to later.
Julius Root's Office, Lower Elements, 21st century
"Commander! Commander Root!"
Root glanced up from his paperwork and glared. "Captain Short! How many times have I told you to KNOCK BEFORE YOU ENTER?"
Holly would have pointed out that the office door was open, but she had more pressing things to report. "Commander, we've managed to trace Foaly's Time Shuttle."
Root stood up. "What?"
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, England, 21st century
"I hate Snape," muttered Ron vehemently as they hurried from Potions Class to lunch. "First day of school and he gives a bloody three-page essay."
"Three pages isn't very much, Ron."
"Oh, shut up, Hermione."
Both were too busy arguing that they knocked headlong into Draco Malfoy as he left the Great Hall. Hermione's books flew out of her arms and scattered along the corridor. Ron looked up to apologise, saw who it was and shut his mouth firmly.
"Oh, dear," said Malfoy in a tone that did not bode well. "Such a pity."
"What are you talking about?" snapped Harry as he and Ron bent down to help Hermione gather her books.
"My new robes, of course," went on Malfoy. "I'd just bought them for this year, and now they're covered in Mudblood filth."
Ron stood up, with a look that did not bode well either.
Hermione got up too, placing a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Ron! It's...it's not important."
"That's right," sneered Malfoy. "Listen to your Mudblood girlfriend. I have no idea why your parents encourage you ... but then your father's one of those sick Muggle-lovers, isn't he?"
Harry could not possibly have prevented what happened next. Ron's fist swung out, as did Hermione's palm. Both met either side of Malfoy's nose simultaneously with considerable force. There was a loud and sickening crack, accompanied by a spray of blood. Malfoy collapsed on the floor, nose bleeding like a burst drain.
Harry looked at both his friends, shocked. "Ron...Hermione...that was n— "
"Not good." They turned to see Professor Imhotep striding down the hall towards them, his heavy black robes billowing, with a strange look in his eyes. "You," he pointed at Crabbe and Goyle, who had just arrived, "take him to the hospital wing. And as for the three of you..." He gave them the same sinister look. "Fifty points from Gryffindor, and detention for all three of you."
"But Harry wasn't..." began Hermione in protest.
"Silence, girl, or you will lose your house more points!" Imhotep glared. "You three can polish the statues in my office tonight. You are to be there at 10 o' clock. Is that clear?"
Hermione nodded mutely. Ron and Harry were still staring at the injustice.
"Very well." Imhotep swept past them. Harry had a sickly sinking feeling in his stomach as the professor turned the corner and disappeared. If he had asked, he would have realised that the other two were feeling quite as bad about this detention.
Chute E74, England, 21st century
Holly docked the shuttle in the bay. The journey had been uneventful, there being few tourists at this time of the year, and the other administrative obstacles had been cleared by Commander Root and his finger of authority. As a matter of fact, she and Root were the only ones on the mission. The Council wasn't convinced that Foaly was really in danger, so it was a purely espionage mission. In theory, at least.
They emerged from the shuttle bay, shielding immediately. The entrance was located near a huge forest. Holly crept past the shadows. The trees moaned slowly, sending strange shivers down her spine. Root was nearby, she knew, although he was also shielded. A shadow detached itself from a tree and flitted away. Holly jumped, then regretted being so jumpy. Any noise might have alerted a potential enemy. It was probably only a bat, anyway. She concentrated on following the locator beam pinpointing the Time Shuttle.
Behind her, Root adjusted the settings on his blaster. He didn't feel too good about this forest. The shadows could be hiding a whole ambush, and the two of them, though shielded, might still be overwhelmed. Carefully, he stepped through the tendrils of mist that shrouded the forest floor, after his captain. Overhead, the trees whispered and sighed, and a chill crept through the forest that wasn't the wind.
Imhotep's Office, Hogwarts, England
Harry yawned. He had already been in Professor Imhotep's office for two hours, and the row of statues awaiting polishing still stretched out across the front hall. Behind him, Ron was humming tunelessly as he worked on the shelves on the opposite wall. Hermione was further up, polishing the statues in Imhotep's study.
Harry rubbed polish over a golden statue of the goddess Isis and her infant son Horus. Most of the statues were Egyptian. Imhotep was probably Egyptian too. Harry decided that he was heartily sick of anything Egyptian, and wished desperately for detention to end.
In the study, Hermione finished the twelfth in a series of miniature shabti figurines and placed it on the table. She picked up the thirteenth and nearly dropped it as she heard Imhotep speak suddenly behind her.
"You are not done?"
"No, professor," she muttered. How he had come in so quietly she did not know, and she wondered how long he had been there. She turned her attention back to the shabtis. The faster she got this done, the sooner they would be out of here.
Outside the window, the full moon gleamed pallid in an uneasy cloud sea, a waxen disc in a world of grey wraiths. A chill crept over the windowsill from the Forbidden Forest and stole into the corners of the room.
Imhotep smiled chillingly. All was going according to plan.
Hermione shivered slightly.
Two winged shapes rose from the Forbidden Forest, silhouetted against the moon, and flapped slowly towards the castle.
Imhotep rose and strode silently to his student's turned back.
Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw something move at the window. She turned around.
Harry had just finished the Isis statue when he heard Hermione scream. He dropped the statue and dashed towards the study, Ron at his heels. They got there in time to see Imhotep grab Hermione by the collar and fling her bodily out of the window.
"Hermione!" yelled Harry.
The two of them charged forward, hearts crashing in their chests. But what could they do? Throw themselves out of the window after her?
Imhotep decided the matter for them. Harry felt himself being levitated, reeling backward in the air. He saw Ron rising beside him, mouth open in an empty scream.
Imhotep smiled cruelly. Then he made a hurling movement with his outstretched hand and sent them flying. They hurtled through the air and slammed into the wall of his study. Plaster sprayed over the table.
Imhotep dusted himself off. Picking up certain selected statues and some other items, he hid them beneath his robes. Then he left through the window, landing on his feet two storeys below. Wisps of mists curled around his feet as he strode into the Forbidden Forest. Soon he had been swallowed by the mist and shadows.
Forbidden Forest, Hogwarts, 21st century
Artemis was trying to make the best of the situation. It helped that Aleera was in her less terrifying human form, but not very much.
"Might I know the nature of this venture I have been compelled to participate in?" he asked.
Aleera did not reply. Her lovely dark eyes were fixed upon him, but they were colder than ice and deadlier.
Artemis tried again. "Perhaps we could negotiate," he suggested. "I'm sure we could come to some form of arrangement."
In a flash of white gown and long hair, Aleera had Artemis by the neck in her iron fingers. "The only reason why I haven't killed you yet is because the Master told me not to," she hissed. Artemis felt her grip tighten, choking the life out of him. "So you'd better be nice, boy, because when he's done with you..." Her fangs extended, white and gleaming and terrifying. "I'll enjoy hearing you scream." She released Artemis contemptuously. Artemis fell onto Foaly, who was aghast with shock. Artemis collapsed on the floor, massaging his neck.
"I wouldn't try that again, if I were you," muttered Foaly, somewhat sympathetically.
Someone slammed a fist against the door. "Aleera! We're back!"
Foaly reluctantly hit the "Open Door" button at Aleera's domineering gaze. They heard footsteps down the narrow metal corridor that led to the control centre, and then Verona and Marishka entered the room. Verona dumped a dazed bushy-haired girl who had her hands chained onto the floor next to Artemis.
Artemis scrutinized the newcomer. Her arms were scratched badly, and the red marks showed where the Brides had gripped her, but apart from those she was suffering from nothing worse besides trauma. As he watched, she pushed slowly up from her sprawled position on the floor until she was sitting upright. She brushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead. She was wearing black robes, he noticed.
"Where am I?" she spoke faintly.
Foaly leaned across Artemis to get a good look at her. "You're Hermione Granger, aren't you?"
"Yes." The girl nodded wearily. She looked down and noted with dismay the shackles on her wrists.
"Well," conceded Artemis. "Since we are all in the same boat at the moment, I suggest we make each others' acquaintances. I am Artemis Fowl the Second, at your service."
"Foaly," said the centaur.
"You're a centaur, aren't you?" observed Hermione. "Like the ones in the Forest. I'm Hermione Granger. Could someone please explain why I'm here?"
Artemis looked at Foaly. "You can do it," he said, "since you know so much more about the whole business."
Imhotep's Office, Hogwarts, 21st century
Harry came round, very painfully. He was quite sure something was at least sprained, if not broken. He forced his eyes open and saw Ron. Ron was lying on top of him. There was an ugly gash on his forehead, from which blood was dripping onto Harry's face.
"Ron?" whispered Harry. "Ron!"
Ron came round too, with as much difficulty. "Harry?" Then suddenly he bolted upright. "Hermione!"
Harry scrambled out from under Ron and dashed to the window. Through the darkness he could make out Imhotep's figure disappearing into the Forbidden Forest and the two black shapes winging ahead of him. Hermione, he decided, was with them. Her screams could be heard for miles around.
"We need to go after them," said Ron.
Harry agreed absolutely. He turned to make a dash for the door, and his ankle twisted sharply. "OW!"
"Are you hurt?"
"Ankle. Sprained."
"We're not going to make it, Harry. What's going to happen to Hermione?"
"Wait. I've got an idea."
Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at the open door of the office. "Accio Firebolt. Accio Invisibility Cloak."
They waited. For an infinitely agonisingly long time, while the winged shapes got further and further away. Then they heard a whoosh. Seconds later, the Firebolt sped to Harry's side, hovering obediently by him, one half obscured by the Invisibility Cloak. Harry mounted the Firebolt, throwing the Invisibility Cloak on. "Get on, Ron. It'll have to carry the two of us."
They took off through the window.
The Firebolt was somewhat slower, what with the increased weight, but it was a good broom. Soon, they were soaring across the Forbidden Forest. Some of the mist sneaked up behind them and condensed on the Cloak's material. Both of them were silent. The winged shapes weren't very far ahead.
Suddenly the two creatures dipped and descended into the Forest. Harry sent the Firebolt into a steep dive after them. They landed noiselessly without so much as a feather's rustle upon the forest floor, just in time to see the two creatures morph into women and drag Hermione into a strange silver humming machine.
With unspoken agreement, Harry and Ron pulled out their wands and advanced stealthily towards the machine. They entered into a long corridor, with an opening that led into a chamber filled with light, voices, and the mechanical hum of machinery.
"Let's go in and get Hermione," suggested Ron.
"No, it looks like there're a lot of them, and – " Harry broke off as Marishka stepped out into the corridor, looking straight through them. He could feel Ron shudder beneath her feral gaze, and thanked his lucky stars that they had the Cloak on them. Finally she returned to the room.
Harry looked aside and saw a small screened alcove. Pushing the screen carefully aside, he saw that it was filled with boxes and sacks – some sort of storage space. He limped in, Ron following.
The boxes mostly contained carrots. Harry moved some of them about while Ron held up the Cloak and the Firebolt, and finally managed to create some sort of space behind the boxes for them to crouch in. They settled themselves, to wait for goodness knows what.
Forbidden Forest, Hogwarts, England, 21st century
Holly pricked up her pointed ears . She had heard something. Flicking up the setting on her Neutrino, she advanced towards the noise cautiously.
A man appeared out of the shadows. A bald man, in a long robe. He strode into the path of their locator and began to walk along it. Holly could have sworn that he was leading them to Foaly.
And unintentionally, he was. With a hurriedly stifled intake of air, she saw the Time Shuttle in a clearing of the Forest. It was undoubtedly the Shuttle – those familiar blinking blue lights confirmed her suspicions. The man entered through the open door. Holly approached it, after him.
"Lord Imhotep, at last." A silky female voice emanated from the depths of the Shuttle. "You, centaur. Close the door."
Holly could imagine Foaly rolling his eyes and obeying. But she was startled out that idea by the pneumatic hiss of the closing door.
Holly leapt forward as the door hissed shut. She curled into a tight ball and slid between the doors, yanking her foot free from their metallic clutch. She clambered to her feet in the Shuttle's corridor. "Commander!" she hissed into the mike. "Commander! Did you get into the Shuttle?"
"Over here, Captain." She switched to the anti-shield filters and saw Root peering into an alcove near the door to the control room. "In here!"
Holly obeyed. Together they scrambled over the boxes of carrots (Foaly, she thought with a grimace as she stubbed her foot on a carrot sticking out) and into a recess behind them. "What next, Commander?"
"We wait," came the grim reply. "We wait and see."
End of Chapter
Next Chapter coming ......Middle-Earth Emergency
In which the Time Shuttle gets stuck in the Dead Marshes, Holly and Root make a truce with a carrothead and a pair of spectacles and Aragorn improves his vocabulary.