A/N: Someone once told me, never put in your story.....'And next week.....'. But I thought it would be cute. Sort of like a preview. And what happens? I end up missing my deadline. What can I say, folks? It's been a very unusual two weeks. And then Friday I had the whole of the last eleven days all rolled into one when I was late for church, the car broke down, cost me out the nose to get it fixed, late for work, work was swamped, had to sing for Saturday mass, got music at 5:00PM Friday night, rushed home, and was late for dinner.
The only GOOD thing that happened all day was dinner, because my Mom is an excellent cook! Even if it is just grilled cheese sandwiches.
Then I missed another Sunday posting. Sorry, guys.
And then on the news Monday night I heard the most horrible thing. In Florida, just off of a major highway in the middle of a large, busy city, there was a large glass building which, for whatever reason, suddenly produced an image on one side of it which too many looked very much like an image of the Virgin Mary. This stood, undisturbed for years with the exception of some idiot who threw acid on it. The image remained unmarred from the attack. But now some useless waste of space shot a ball-bearing into the window that shattered the top portion of the image. This was not only a devastating act, but also a pointless one. What possible reason could there be for such a malicious act?
I am afraid I am not among the good Christians on the news, spouting on how they will pray for the person(s) responsible. I am among those who believe we should bring back stocks and public hangings. Because believe me, I would drive an hour just to throw something rotten and disgusting in the face of this worthless, wasted creature that is using up space that could have been put to much better use.
Anyway, that's the summary of the last two weeks.
On with the story.
And as always,
Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Who? Me? Nope.
Chapter Thirty-Five: Control - Part Four
Voldemort stood outside the remains of the lair. He had dropped the anti-apparation spells and apparated out when the tremors had first started, as had many others. Now he stood before the pile of rocks, dirt, and debris. His own innate magic searching through what remained for any sign of life. But his hope of finding any were low. The majority of what had once been one of his principal lairs was now a molten sheet of rock, spread out across the ground it had once stood on. An entire mountain...., gone.
Who had done this? Who was responsible for such destruction? Who could have destroyed and entire mountain with a single spell? Surely not the other wizard? The one his Elites had been warning him about.
No. Not him. He knew nothing of Voldemort and his Deatheaters yet. So far Voldemort had enlisted only his spies to keep watch on the rouge wizard and his activities to learn what he could of him.
No. This wasn't his work. This was the result of a raw power. One that started without form or purpose. Harnessed by a powerful wizard who had given it both. Directing it against his people.
This was a wizard that he needed to stop.
Voldemort continued his search. But along with it he search for any remnant of the power that had done this thing. Somewhere within the rubble a trace had to be left behind. Something he could use to tell him who had done this thing. Who had managed such ruin.
Abruptly the dark wizard pulled back. Almost physically stepping back from the remains of the lair.
He had found the force. The power itself. Still there. Still doing it's work.
And it had felt him. Turned on him. Tried to attack him.
The force had not come after his people.
It had come for him.
It wanted him.
Voldemort reached out again. He found the power quickly enough. But this time he kept his distance. Too close and it would sense him again and attack. And so Voldemort skirted about it. Like someone playing a game of touch with a blind man. Finding out what he could through feather-light touches, but pulling quickly out of reach again when the force sensed him and tried to grab hold of him.
Finally Voldemort turned to the man next to him.
"Bring Carter here."
Treaks nodded and within a few moments returned to Voldemort's side, practically dragging a very frightened looking man behind him.
"My lord." Treaks announced, throwing the man before Voldemort.
The smaller man barely looked up at the dark lord. His eyes still showed nothing but absolute fear.
"Tell me again what you saw last night." Voldemort instructed the man on the ground without once taking his eyes off the destruction before him.
The smaller man practically shook in fear as he fought for the words. "I......I heeeeeeard something. Outside. And I went to investigate. And ther.......there was this man....standing before the lair. Just....just stannnnding there. Like he didn't even see me. Then.....then's when I heard the sound. Like.....it was like an earthquake. Or a volcano erupting. And.....aaaannnnnnnd the whole mountain......just fell. Like....like something reached in and hollowed it out, and what was left jussssst collapsed in on itself."
"And the man?" Voldemort asked in a low, level tone. "What became of this man?"
The little man shook even harder. "I........I don't know mmmmmy lord. He.....he vanished. I turned around and he was.......just gone. He was like a ghost."
A cold, hard stare turned to the man. "A ghost did not destroy my lair." Voldemort informed him in a sharp, dangerous tone. "A ghost did not level an entire mountain to the ground. A ghost did not nearly kill over half of my Deatheaters."
"Nooooooo, mmmmy lord." The man stammered.
"Treaks!"
Treaks quickly stepped before his lord.
"Yes, my lord?"
"Take this sniveling creature to the interrogators. Question him until you have a solid picture of what this 'ghost' looked like. Then bring it to me."
Treaks grabbed the man by the back of his shirt and dragged him away.
As he stood there, Voldemort felt another presence step up next to him.
"Who?" A soft, frightened sounding feminine voice asked. "Who could have been responsible for such a thing?"
A tight grip seized his arm.
"It wasn't the other?" Katlin asked in a hushed voice. "Surely he didn't do this thing?"
Voldemort pulled his own magic back to himself before he turned to her. "No. I don't believe it was him at all."
"Then who? Who else could have directed such power?"
Voldemort felt a small shudder go through her body.
"I was here." She whispered. "Just a few moments before it happened. I had only just left. If I had waited, or stopped to talk to someone.....to talk to a person I'll never see again....."
Voldemort listened to her words trail off into silence. But he didn't pay much attention to the soft sobs that followed. Instead his attention had been fully caught by her words. By what she had said.
She had only been there a few moments before this happened. The assailant struck after she had left.
After.
No. That was a far-fetched coincidence.
But who could be responsible?
A quick census showed that more had gotten out than Voldemort had first thought. But even that left many others still missing.
Someone was going to pay.
The next morning Orion arrived at his office to a call for a general meeting.
Sighing quietly he fell into step behind several others as they all filed into an assembly hall and began taking their seats. Orion quickly looked about for Charlie, but not seeing his partner, settled for a seat between two other Aurors who were nervously discussing the possibilities for the meeting.
Orion couldn't blame them for being nervous. The last general assembly had been to announce the Ministries decision to allow Unforgivable Curses to be used against the Deatheaters. And no one had foreseen the potential outcome of that decision. Just as they had no idea what the end result of this meeting would be.
Orion sat in silence, staring at the podium on the stage before him.
He alone had a fairly certain idea what the meeting was about.
After all the Aurors had filed in and the doors were closed, Orin Bale apparated onto the stage before the gathering and stood behind the podium.
From there he proceeded to inform those eagerly listening in the seats before him of an attack waged against the Deatheaters the previous night by an unknown group of attackers who had managed to nearly wipe out one of Voldemort's lairs. Orion listened in a disinterested fashion as Bale continue on about the particulars of the attack as they had pieced it together. A frown etched its way across his face as Bale indicated the Department's belief that many of the Deatheaters had survived the attack, managing to get out before the lair's ultimate destruction.
From a dark alcove across the room Charlie watched his partner's expression deepen into more and more dis-satisfaction as Bale continued to describe what the Department knew of the attack. He only broke off his scrutiny when the others in the hall got to their feet and the group headed for the doors.
Things were now officially out of hand.
It was time for another meeting.
Charlie was just lifting a level shot glass of scotch to his lips when a hand seized him from behind and dragged him off the barstool he was sitting on. A few seconds later he found himself slammed up against a brick wall in the back alleyway.
Pulling himself upright, he rubbed his sore shoulder as he fixed his stare on the man before him.
"Look," he stated in a heated voice, "it's bad enough your showing up early and now I have to listen to you sober. But is it really necessary to get physical about it?"
"And I'm not here to listen to you whine, Misser. Do you have any idea what happened last night?"
Despite what he may have felt about the attack, Charly fixed his face into as neutral an expression as he could manage. "Of course we know." He replied solemnly. "Bale called a general assembly about it this morning."
"And what exactly are the Aurors going to do about it?"
"Do?" Charly asked with a look of surprise. He tapped his chin a few times in thought before turning his attention back to the man before him. "We've considered having a grand blow out at the ministry. Would you like an invite?"
The fist nearly connected with Charly's face before he stopped it.
"People were killed in that attack, Misser." Treaks yelled at the man.
"Deatheaters were killed in that attack." Charly replied in a mild, disinterested tone. "And why do you care? You're not a Deatheater anymore."
Treaks seemed to have to think over his answer for a moment. "Some of them are still people I know. Still people I used to work with."
"And yet oddly enough, you never once said the word 'friends'."
"They were Deatheaters. And of the two I choose to feel more regret when a Deatheater is killed than an Auror."
"And this is exactly why we each had to give up our separate affiliations when we accepted this assignment, Treaks. We do not work for the Ministry or Voldemort anymore. All we are is the eyes and ears of our master within those organizations. We work for the good of the master. Not Voldemort, and not the Ministry. Because both of them are blind to the truth of what is going on in the world. They have no idea where the true danger lies."
Treaks fixed a cold stare on Charly. "They were still people I knew."
"And I'm sorry for that." Charly replied in a slightly softer tone. "But I've lost people I worked beside as well in this. You get through it by remembering what your fighting for. You're fighting for their lives. To bring this whole division to an end and unite all of the wizarding community under one leader. There will be no more Deatheaters. No more Ministry. Only those who serve the master and work for the good of the wizarding world."
Treaks sneered at the man before him. "And I don't need your muggle logic to tell me how to deal with things. I know the master's wishes. And I know how to accomplish them."
"Fine. Then perhaps you can put that wonderful logic of yours to work and figure out how we solve our latest problem. Because this has tipped the scales too far, and the master won't be pleased when he learns of it. And we don't have very long before we'll have to report it. We can only delay something like this for so long."
But Treaks waved off the Auror's concern. "That isn't a problem."
"No?"
"We'll tell him we didn't want to report until the situation had been stabilized."
"Stabilized?"
"All parts of the equation equal again, Misser. That's the way the master wants things. He'll probably even reward us if we do it right"
Charly folded his arms across his chest. He didn't like where this was going.
"And what is 'right'?" He asked.
"You side has an unfair advantage, Misser. That's the problem."
"Really?"
"Yes. The Ministry took out one of the Deatheaters lairs. I think the fair solution is that the Deatheaters take out one of the ministries offices. A major one."
Charly came straight up to the man's face. "Have you finally, utterly lost your mind?"
"What's wrong, Misser? An Auror can take out a lair, but the Deatheaters can't claim a similar victory? Hardly fair."
"We're not talking 'fair', here, Treaks. We're talking people's lives."
"Ah! And that only matters when we're talking Aurors lives, and not Deatheaters, is that it, Misser? It doesn't matter if it's people I know who die. Just as long as it isn't any of your little friends?"
Charly stared back at the man.
"Where are your high morals now, Misser? Now that your high sung words are staring you back in the face? 'Actions for the common good', you said. The wishes of the master."
"You're not discussing the wishes of the master here. You're talking 'revenge'. Your revenge for the destruction of the lair."
Treaks gave him a small smile that Charly physically pulled back from. He hated that smile. It always meant trouble.
"All right, Misser. Never let it be said I am not a fair man. We won't look at this number for number. Let's focus instead, on the real perpetrator. The real problem at the center of everything. The unfair advantage the Aurors have over the Deatheaters really comes down to one person. So, let's not think of this in terms of going to the master and saying, 'we evened the game person for person'. Let's instead say 'we evened the game strength for strength'."
"Meaning?"
Treaks shook his head. "Don't play the fool, Misser. You know what I'm talking about. The problem at the center of everything is Black. He is the uneven factor between the two factions. And I'll tell you how you solve a problem like that, Misser. You eliminate it."
"You're right, Treaks. I am no fool. And I know very well what you're trying to do. You're making the problem where you want me to see it. You're trying to force me into a position of choosing between a group or one life. Those I work with...or my best friend. Well, I have news for you. You've already made my choice for me."
"Indeed?"
"Destroying one of the Ministry's offices may even the game, but it won't solve the problem. Not the way the master would want. And Black can't be killed. Not by you."
"Really."
"As I recall you've already tried that once, Treaks. And the master was very clear why Orion was not to be killed."
"Rubbish."
"It's not rubbish, Treaks. I've seen this thing. Have you? I've seen what it can do."
"So have I!" The Elite snapped back at him. "Standing before the remains of my lair."
"A small fraction." Charly replied calmly. "That's what the master said. That was but a small fraction of what it can do. And he's right. And I'll tell you what else he's right about. Orion is the only person who can control that thing. You get rid of him, and that thing will run rampant, with no one able to control it. That thing only listens to Orion."
Treaks stared down his nose at the man before him. "What about the other one?"
Charly gave a low, soft laugh. "Are you serious? You're going to try and manipulate that one? Have you ever even met the man, Treaks? You think the son is bad, but you're willing to try and take on his father without a thought? Talon Black put that thing where it is, Treaks. Now, with that in mind, do you really want to go one on one with the man who was capable of doing that? The man will spit you out before you even know you've been chewed up."
"Fine. We can't control the son. We can't control the father. Then we'll go for the third part of the equation."
Charly was completely sure he didn't like the smile slowly creeping its way across the man's lips.
"What third part?" he asked slowly.
"Black has another weakness. One that is far easier to exploit."
"Which would be?"
"Katlin Griss."
Q&A
skahducky: OK, lets go one at a time here. First, true, Dumbledore would likely only remove the memory charm if Katlin directly requested it. Two, if he removed it, why would she only remember she had a memory charm and nothing else? If he removes the Memory Charm, isn't she going to remember everything it was placed there to make her forget?
OK, the deal with Bo....it's a bit more complicated than that, actually. And I could write a few pages on it if you wanted, but let me try to sort of summarize instead.
First off, Bo isn't a 'person', he's a thing. An 'entity'. That's the first mistake people make about him. Second, he just happens to be sentient. Third, he's only sentient to about the level of a really well-behaved three year old (Has anyone actually ever seen one of those?). So what does all that mean? Well, it means Bo never really does much on his own. He kind of lives his life vicariously through Orion. That's why a host is so important to him.
So, what happened at the lair? Bo wasn't feeding off of Orion's anger so much as was he learning from it. Keep in mind, Orion is the host. The 'channeler'. If Orion had just gone to the lair and told Bo, 'destroy it', Bo won't have understood. The whole thing for Bo would have come down to 'why?'. But instead, Orion went to the lair with Bo 'in tow'. When he got there he began to feed off of his own anger so that Bo would have something to focus on.
Bo is just the power. Orion was its motivation.
Remember what Orion said, Bo doesn't really hate anyone. So why would he have destroyed the lair on his own? Or even at Orion's command? For him it would have come down to 'why'. Orion gave him a reason. Hatred. And once Bo tapped into that emotion, it's like light a match to gasoline. He doesn't really understand the emotion, but he can feel it.
And you're not even dealing with two separate beings at that point either. Another point that's important to keep in mind.
Any clearer now, Dear? Probably not. But I never said Bo was easy to understand. Just fun to write about.
nessie: A book report due in twelve hours and your reading my stuff instead? I'm honored.
No, Dear. It's not resentment. It's good old sibling rivalry.
OK, you get the honor of teaching PAR something. I have an idea, and a lot of research has given me a few good guesses. But I want it straight. What is a 'Chibi' and how do you pronounce it?
Well, this one ranked in at a decent 7 pages. That should be better.
I hope the book report went well, Dear.
Silverfox: You have to understand my Dad is very old world. Technology is not his favorite thing.
I love this!!!!!!! 'Has Orion ever considered stopping to think about what he might have done wrong?'
Yes, Dear. He did. But have you ever known someone who stopped to think.....and then forgot to start again? That's sort of where our boy Orion is right now. He's just not using all the cylinders of the engine right now. He angry. He's hurt. And he's a man...who essentially got dumped. Not a happy camper. And probably a first for him as well.
Yeah, you almost do feel sorry for them. I mean, here you have a man, who controls a power the likes of which few people can even fathom, who is basically just plain pissed off, looking for a target.
Oh! Look! Deatheaters!
Poor Deatheaters.
sweets: Oh, no, Dear. You go right ahead. I love theories. Lay 'em on me. If your wrong, I'll tell you. If you're right, if you haven't noticed yet, I sort of skirt around your comment or just outright tell you I won't answer it because it would interfere with the story (or some lame excuse like that).
So you go right ahead. Especially if you're seeing connections here with Family Life, because this story does relate to that one. And if someone is seeing the connections, I'm thrilled. It means I'm not being nearly as convoluted as I thought.
So no, no. Not fair. Lay that theory on me!
Oh, and good luck on the test, Dear, though you have likely already taken it.
Sailor Sol: Enjoy college, kid. Because after it comes the real world, and it's no fun at all.
Well it's sort of more than just collapsed the mountain. What he did (or more, what Bo did) was implode it. Takes a lot more energy to implode something than explode it. But he wasn't looking for flash. He was looking for revenge.
Past that, as you read in this chapter, he literally disintegrated what was left. This wasn't just destroying the lair. This was annihilating it.
Reviews are as of 02292004. (Yeah, yeah. I know. It's 03032004. What of it?)
And remember:
Never go into a battle of wits if you aren't properly armed.