Through The Times Of War Chapter 3, a harry potter fanfic

-o-o-o-o-o-

CHAPTER 3

OF REVENGE AND POLITICS

-o-o-o-o-o-

Arthinus Snape had donned Glamour Charms and was walking down the main road of Hogsmeade as a harmless old wizard. Harmless indeed!

He could almost sense that there was something wrong around here. His Animagus form was a hound (Petit Basset Griffon Vendeen, he believed) and since he had lately travelled around as a hound for quite a long time, his senses were sharp. He boasted that he could smell people's emotions. Nobody had ever believed it, but it was true. Each wizard had something peculiar about his/her Animagus form which distinguished it from the normal animals of its species. Mostly, these signs were physical but in some rare cases, they were represented in the modifications of his/her ability.

That was the main reason why Arthinus had not registered his name in the Animagi Department of the Ministry of Magic. He had believed that he could put his special abilities to better use if they remained secret.

It was past noon already, but there had been no attack. He was pretty tired of moving about aimlessly and decided to go in The Three Broomsticks for a drink.

As he passed the local Apothecary, he felt a familiar presence.

Apothecary… well, well, well, brother Severus is here, too. Hmmm… better be near him.

He had always observed that Severus had a way of getting into trouble quite easily. He could do with some action right now, even if he wasn't sure of where his loyalties lay.

Severus left the Apothecary too soon and headed towards The Three Broomsticks.

Well, thought Arthinus, I suppose that he would rather be help to the kiddies. I am fine with that. Don't want to involve children in this. I would have gone so far as to include women, but my impression of them has changed. Narcissa was a disgusting vixen. Lily, no better. And a Mudblood to boot!

Arthinus was a firm believer of old Pureblood ethics.

But Severus did not go inside the pub. For a moment, Arthinus stiffened. Had he sensed that he was being followed?

It seemed not. He looked through the glass window and was observing someone there.

Arthinus wondered who it was. A… she, maybe? He grinned slyly to himself. Though Severus wasn't the archaic handsome type, even Arthinus couldn't deny that the dark, brooding, sarcastic type was attractive – well, at least he was if you had "peculiar" tastes in such matters.

But his speculations turned out to be utterly useless when Harry Potter, along with two of his friends exited the pub and Severus' eyes followed him down the street.

Oh, well! So he was just babysitting Potter!

Severus had always been a boring man, anyway, thought Arthinus making a face and going in for a drink himself. Except that one case of Tiara, of course. Though I don't know how sincere that was.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Okay, this is it; we are going to die, thought Hermione desperately as she saw Draco nod to Harry and inch closer towards them. She glanced around to see if Ron was nearby. Much to her dismay, he wasn't.

Oh Ron!

"Harry, duck!"

Hermione felt an arm grab her and gasped as she felt bright blue light whiz past her head. But Harry had pulled her down with him.

They were up on their feet moments later, wands out.

There was screaming and shouting going on around her, but she gathered her will-power and concentration, and started aiming hexes at the black-robed and hooded figures apparating all around the place.

There were loud popping noises behind her.

Startled, she turned to see about twenty Death-Eaters apparate just behind her and Harry.

We are dead.

Even as she thought it, she felt an arm slip around her waist. Harry…

The Death-Eaters lifted their wands…

…and the next thing she knew she was standing in Forbidden Forest.

Wait… what was going on?

"All right, kids?"

She tried to ignore the nauseating feeling welling up inside her as she glanced at the old wizard standing in front of her and Harry. Harry, though, seemed all right except that he was horribly shocked.

"W-Who are you?" Harry asked.

"Tell you in a moment. Seems Miss… well, the young lady here is really not easy with apparating.

"You apparated us here?" Hermione managed to gasp out in spite of the giddy feeling.

Harry put an arm around her, helping her to stand.

"Yes. Now, if you kids are all right, then go back to the castle…"

Harry bristled. "We aren't kids. We aren't hiding in the castle. Thank-you for saving us, but we need to go out there and fight!"

Hermione's head was spinning but she was indignant at the suggestion, too.

The man looked intently at them. "Potter, this really isn't the time to do this, you know. Presently, concentrate on saving yourself. Your services will be asked for, Potter, and then you will have to give a lot. But this is not the time. That time is yet to come."

"Who are you?" asked Hermione sharply.

But before the man could say a word, there were more apparitions. Casting a fearful look around him, the man disapparated.

-o-o-o-o-o-

His arm still around Hermione, Harry pulled out his wand.

"No need for that, Harry," said a very pale-looking Remus emerging from behind the trees. He was supporting a badly-injured Tonks along with Draco.

"Potter, what's that wound on your arm?" asked Draco.

For the first time, Harry found out that there was a bruise – or at least he thought it was that – forming on his arm where there had been dull pain. He had put it off as a hex.

Remus clutched his arm and looked closely at it. "Hospital Wing, Harry. Quick! You too, Hermione. Who brought you here, anyway?"

Harry exchanged a perplexed glance with Hermione. "We don't know."

-o-o-o-o-o-

III

Arthinus apparated back to Hogsmeade. Many Death-Eaters had disapparated, and a few lay immobile on the ground. He tried to recognize the few which were still putting up an excellent fight, when a grey streak of light whizzed past his ear. Swearing under his breath, he ducked and took shelter behind a multitude of barrels. There were about five pairs fighting in this area. No civilians – except the three which lay dead.

An Auror had just been defeated and the Death-Eater was about to finish his job when all of a sudden he fell dead. Startled, he looked around.

Standing less than twenty yards away was Severus Snape.

Severus attacked a man from behind? No matter he was a Death-Eater, but I know him very well. He won't ever do that!

The more he observed Severus, the more he scared him. There was a maniacal glow in his otherwise cold eyes. His stance was that of a ruthless man. Was this his calm, composed brother?

The man couldn't be more different!

As Arthinus watched, rooted to the spot in fear of this new man he had thought he knew well, a Death-Eater advanced towards him. A fierce duel followed. The sense of family would have made Arthinus side with his brother, but presently, he couldn't even think anything clearly. It was one of the most deadly duels he had seen.

Both the men poured in all their hatred in the dark curses they threw at each other. But their defence was strong as well.

Arthinus could sense that the Death-Eater was growing scared of Severus. It wasn't just his magic which told him, the man's voice was too shrill – showing his fear.

Will he kill Severus?

It seemed not. Severus killed him before his opponent could do same to him.

Severus killed two men – and not even in proper self-defence! Has he changed? What has changed?

Many Aurors were apparating there plus some Ministry officials. Arthinus felt that it was time he went back.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Stay here, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger. If someone with minor injury comes down here – they will be many – attend to them. If there is something serious, Miss Granger, please come and call me. Tonks needs whole of my attention right now."

Hermione looked at Draco, who seemed totally gobsmacked. She rolled her eyes. Really, he didn't think that he would get to act Prince Almighty when so many people needed help?

"What are you waiting for?" she shot at him and then went over to the cupboard where Madam Pomfrey kept her medical supplies.

"You don't think I will… well, I don't do all this helping stuff and things. Wake up, Potter, if you want, but I will certainly not…"

He did not finish his sentence as Hermione came up to him and with hands on her hips, said in her bossy voice, "You will help, Malfoy, and you will do it the best you can. If not, then be prepared to be hexed into little invisible pieces! You know that I am skilled in some very good ones. Won't like a demonstration for starters, will you?"

Not in eternity would Draco Malfoy admit that Hermione scared him somewhat. He was involuntarily reminded of the slap that she had humiliated him with three years ago.

He watched her bending down to clean the wounds of a little third-year girl sobbing quietly on the bed next to Harry's. She tried to soothe the girl as she tended to her injuries.

"What are you standing there like a loafer for?" she hissed at him as she went to get some salves.

Not wanting to test Hermione's skill in hexes, he moved over to a Slytherin fourth year, Eleanor Zola.

-o-o-o-o-o-

It was well into the night when Potter woke up. He had stirred and moaned many times during his sleep. Draco had once wanted to go over and listen to what his murmurings were about. Did he really dream of his parents? Or were his nightmares all about the Dark lord?

However, showing even the least sign of caring was not acceptable in a place so full of students.

Not that he cared, mind you…

"Malfoy."

"What, Granger?" he snapped without turning.

"I would rather not be mistaken for a girl, Malfoy."

He stiffened, then turned around with a smirk, "Potter." His eyes, though, no longer had the dead tired look in them. They were quite strangely lit up – considering they were rather dull grey eyes.

Potter squinted up at him. "What time is it? And why is your hair hanging around your face?"

"Harry! You're awake!"

Draco backed away as Granger and Weasley hurried up to Potter. He felt a pang of jealousy shoot through him.

Potter's eyes met his momentarily as the Granger girl hugged him.

Without a word, he left the Hospital Wing and hurried down towards the kitchens. What did he care about Potter? No, he cared for no one but himself and presently, he was dying from hunger.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"So why did Madam Pomfrey tell me to sleep? I wasn't badly hurt or anything," said Harry.

"I don't know. Nobody is explaining anything you know. It is all over, but I don't know anything. I have been helping in here all along."

"How are you feeling now, mate?" asked Ron.

"Fine. Do you know anything about how it all ended, Ron?"

"Well… yeah, just the rumours and gossips you know…"

"Tell us, Ron!" persisted Hermione. She hated been cut off from everything like this. But she knew what she was supposed to do.

"Well, some people are saying that Snape murdered quite a lot of people and has been taken to Azkaban…"

"WHAT?" cried out Hermione, getting up.

"Told you I mainly gathered things from rumours. But I don't think I have seen him anywhere in the castle since I am back here."

"He might be just out there… helping," said Hermione, clearly very agitated.

"I don't see why you are bothering so much about it," said Harry coldly, glaring at Hermione.

Hermione returned his glare. "I think you are taking this way too lightly, Harry! I don't understand why you keep blaming Professor Snape for everything! He isn't a bad man. He does not deserve this. And he's been taken to Azkaban! This is all so unfair!"

"He murdered people, Hermione," said Harry.

"Those might be rumours!"

"Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, I am afraid I will have to put an end to your conversation right here. You are disturbing everyone around," said Madam Pomfrey, fussing over Harry.

"Thank you for your help. Now you must get some food and rest. Go up to your Common-Room. I will send Dobby there with some food. No, Mr. Potter, you'll remain here for tonight."

-o-o-o-o-o-

She was truly very worried about him. Had he really murdered? She desperately hoped not… She couldn't bear the thought of him turning out to be the traitor.

She had told Ron that she wanted to go around the castle once more to see if any help was required.

He nodded and went to his dormitory. Ron, who always believed and trusted her, simple, funny, annoying and adorable Ron… for a moment she hated Snape for upsetting their perfect friendship.

But no, she was being unreasonable, she felt as she stopped in front of Professor McGonagall's office. Ought she to go in? Would it not seem more like intruding than enquiring? What if Ron had heard just rumours? Mindless, senseless gossip…

She sighed and turned away without knocking. She did not want to disturb her Professor. For all she knew, McGonagall might even not be there. No, this was certainly not the time for fulfilling her overwhelming curiosity.

While on the other hand…

… it won't hurt, would it?

She moved towards the dungeons.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Snape set up strong wards around his office every night – Harry had told her once in their fourth-year. Now, too, she could detect those wards. Did it mean that Professor Snape was there? Who else would come and put up the wards?

Any other teacher… her logical self answered.

Well, then, should I try to break through these wards?

Should I?

Oh dear, this was such a dilemma!

What if he is there? What if he thinks you are a dangerous intruder and kills you?

He won't kill so ruthlessly, would he?

If the rumours are true…

Which they certainly aren't!

Then…

"Miss Granger?"

Curiosity kills the cat. And lion, the mascot of Gryffindor is a type of cat, right?

"Professor Cain."

"What are you doing here, Miss Granger? It is after curfew."

Should I ask? Should I? Should I?

Not if you don't want to face awkward questions and probably get into trouble for being a nosy parker.

"Well, I… I was wondering about Professor Snape… he didn't come back… did he? I mean… there were… well, rumours about Azkaban and all… and… well?"

Harry and Ron must be rubbing off on me. This is so embarrassing! Whatever was I thinking? I can hear him all right – "I don't see what business it is of yours, Miss Granger!" And by Merlin! I was stuttering!

However, Professor Cain's response wasn't exactly that.

"I suggest you go back to your dormitory, Miss Granger. Good-night."

His voice was quiet – guarded, but commanding.

Hermione nodded and briskly walked back to her dorm, all the while, only one thought in her mind, "Oh no! Snape is in Azkaban!"

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Why would they take him to Azkaban if he killed Death-Eaters?" asked Regulus.

"I don't know," said Arthinus, slipping out of his cloak. "Maybe because Fudge had recently said that he wanted them alive – for questioning and things. I think killing an "evidence" or "source of information" merits Azkaban now."

"Or maybe Fudge just wants people in Dumbledore's confidence away from him."

"You mean he still thinks that Dumbledore might seize his position from him?"

"That was what I last heard."

"I haven't seen a stupider man."

"So he finally killed Rudolphus and Algernon?"

Arthinus flinched slightly as he remembered his fear when he had seen raw anger in Severus' eyes. However, he composed himself quickly enough.

"You make it sound as if he had been planning murder all along."

"Hadn't he?"

"It was very impulsive – I could see it in his eyes."

"So have you decided where your loyalties lie?"

A fleeting remembrance of an angry boy and a brown-haired girl…

"No," he said in all honesty.

-o-o-o-o-o-

It was a terrible night for him. The death of his two sort-of-once-colleagues came back to him in bizarre nightmares.

Finally, he got up and began pacing the room.

If he was to show himself to Severus, what would Severus think? It was true that he had known nothing about Rudolphus' and Algernon's plan to kill the Cain family, but he did have a hunch. Did Severus know he had this instinctive feeling?

Maybe… perhaps that was why he had hated Arthinus more than before after Tiara's death.

Would he kill him now? Murder was not something below him – that he had seen with his own eyes today.

For half-brothers, thought Arthinus wryly, we are pretty "close".

There was another thing on his mind, though. Serpentia. His home. Their home.

Ought he to go back to that place?

He glanced at the closed door of Regulus' bedroom.

Regulus wasn't to be trusted right now. No one was to be.

But… Serpentia?

There was still the sort of void in his mind where there were supposed to be three years' after Tiara's death and the start of his travels.

-o-o-o-o-o-

It was eerily quiet when Regulus woke up next morning. Arthinus was a fidgety sort of person. Regulus would wake up to his poking and prodding things around the room.

Maybe he has finally decided to leave me in peace!

His hopes were fulfilled as he stepped into the small living-room-cum-kitchen and saw the note pinned to the wall,

"I won't be back."

-o-o-o-o-o-

It is some twisted Ministry politics, no doubt, thought Severus wryly as he lay down on the mattress in a corner of the room.

They would blame him in some completely absurd manner, but he trusted Dumbledore to get him out of here.

He was surprisingly clear-headed for a man who had just murdered and had been taken to Azkaban.

What was to be expected anyway? Won't he be clear-headed? He was the most clear-headed he had been in a long, long time.

And all because he had finally fulfilled his promise.

He had killed the murderers of Tiara Cain and now, there wasn't any obligation on him. Well, none that he owned to anyone but Dumbledore. But that one, he mused, would never be fulfilled. How could you wash your hands off a man that gave you a reason to live – that let you live in the first place?

Sighing, he closed his eyes. Even though he was in a dirty, murky place, he had never felt more satisfied. He wondered why he hadn't killed those bastards before now.

-o-o-o-o-o-

And for the first time in so many years he dreamt a peaceful dream. He was at Hogwarts, teaching, researching, reading and living a peaceful life. Though he didn't know why the face of a certain brown-haired girl seemed to pop up from nowhere at most unexpected part of his dream. But somehow, it made the dream complete – it made him complete.

It is an extremely bizarre thought, Severus concluded as he stared up into the darkness. The girl would faint with terror if she even realized that her Potions Master dreamt of her.

Hermione Granger… her name sounded queer on his lips, didn't it? He was far more used to "Miss Granger". It was very comfortable to address her as "Miss Granger".

Now, after a good night's sleep and some serious, dispassionate thought about the previous day, he felt somewhat panicked. What if Fudge didn't free him after all?

That was stupid. There was no clear charge against him. Anybody there would swear that he had attacked in self-defence and killing a Death-Eater wasn't exactly a crime – and that went for two Death-Eaters as well.

He remembered Miss Granger as she was with him a day ago. He remembered his reactions to her proximity.

Late that night, or more like early the morning after, he had remembered Tiara. Was he betraying her in some manner? She was dead; he had learnt to live with the fact. He had led a life of complete celibacy until now. Was being pervert over a young lady some sort of dishonour to her memory?

He didn't know. He couldn't understand. He admitted (to none but himself) that he was a complete imbecile when it came to feelings and such. He didn't know what was right, what was wrong. Not that he would have particularly minded that at times. However, when it came to Tiara, he somehow felt compelled to do right by her. He hadn't succeeded to that in her life. At least he could try after her death.

And Miss Granger was an annoying little chit.

He was shaken out of his thoughts as he heard footsteps coming towards his cell.

Panic returned with renewed force.

At least, he tried to console himself, there would be no Dementors around.

-o-o-o-o-o-

VII

"Potter."

"Malfoy."

It was so… drab, thought Draco wryly as he glared coldly at the bespectacled black-haired boy. Potter… Malfoy… Hadn't they come down to first names somewhere a few days ago? Or was it just yesterday? The day before? He had lost all sense of time. You don't feel particularly well if your mentor is in Azkaban.

Potter… Harry… whatever! Well, the boy was fidgeting in a most annoying manner. It irked him.

"Out of my way, Potter! I have Quidditch practice to go to!"

Potter's eyes widened. "Quidditch practice?" he asked incredulously. "How can you think of Quidditch practice?"

"Tell me to think of something else, Potter. Mind you, it shouldn't include these – Professor Snape is in Azkaban, my father almost killed me yesterday, I don't know what he'll do to my mother and I don't know what I'll do this summer. Anything else to think of, Potter?"

"Malfoy… Draco…"

Draco…

"Well, I guess Quidditch is sort of… releasing…"

Draco raised an inquisitive brow.

"You can leave all burdens and troubles back on ground and fly," explained Potter.

"You're odd, Potter, did anyone tell you that?"

"You did. Only you used some particularly nasty words and actions instead of saying 'odd'."

"Are you whining, Potter?"

"No," he answered shortly, "I'll get out of your way then."

Malfoy scowled. Potter had no right to get snappy with him. It wasn't his friends who rudely interrupted anything near to a conversation he was trying to have with him. Well, from one point of view, he had no friends at all. He firmly believed that blokes who couldn't tell up from down were not classified as human-beings and Draco had no affinity for animals.

"You sure you don't want to go flying, Potter, and leave your troubles back on the earth?"

Without a word but a dirty glare, Potter pushed past him and went towards the Hospital Wing.

Malfoy turned and looked after him until he turned round the corner. A small sigh escaped his lips as he pulled out the miniature racer broom from his pocket and enlarged it.

-o-o-o-o-o-

VIII

Hermione thought she was nothing short of going mad. She had tried her level best to gather something sensible from the rumours about Professor Snape, but they got more and more peculiar – not to mention impossible – with each passing day. She was sure that Professor Snape had not tortured a student. She rebuked Colin Creevey when he said that Snape had tried to kill Professor Dumbledore. She had to restrain herself from hexing Luna Lovegood who blandly suggested that Snape was a Death-Eater who had all along been spying on Dumbledore and the Ministry. Surprisingly, Ron had come to her rescue by pointing out that Snape had no way of spying on the Ministry to which Luna launched into a detailed description of magical equivalent of double personality. Ron vowed never to go anywhere near Luna Lovegood ever again.

Snape had become the favourite subject of idle discussion. People had precious little knowledge about the actual happenings on the Valentine's Day. So they exaggerated on the known facts, creating their own versions of the incident. Snape, being the most mysterious of all and the only person who had gotten for himself a full page about himself, except of course, Harry Potter, was quickly believed to be the central figure of the whole tale. Not to mention the fact that it had been the first time anybody had actually seen him out of Hogwarts grounds.

Hermione was irritated by it all. These people were so foolish! They could sit snugly near the fires and distort facts and reputations. Didn't they understand how deeply someone could be affected by their careless words? So for the first few days of the following week, Hermione Granger was one person to be avoided at all costs. She regularly snapped at everybody and lectured them, Harry and Ron being the only exceptions. Harry, who did not want to touch the subject for he was unsure about his feelings towards the Potions Master; Ron could not care less about what happened to Snape. He was glad as long as Professor Cain taught them Potions.

"At least," confided Ron to Harry, "I can now concentrate on brewing my potion than on the greasy git breathing down my neck!"

There had been many speculations about what the outcome of the trial of Severus Snape would be. However, the climax was rather dull – a bail. Severus Snape had been granted a bail.

Hermione was flabbergasted as well as outraged. She had been pursuing some Wizard Law books and based on her belief that Snape had murdered purely due to self-defence, she had thought that there would be no case against Severus Snape and he would be free. But things were not to be so, it seemed. She was sure that it was Fudge's doing. Ever since Madam Bones' death in a Death-Eater attack, the Wizengamot had been quite dominated by the Minister for Magic. Even though Dumbledore had been accepted as a Wizengamot, he did not have many supporters in the Ministry. Hermione had a nagging suspicion that Snape had been granted bail because of Dumbledore's efforts.

However, she thought, Snape will now be back to teach Potions. Professor Cain is good, but I would rather that he set us more homework! After all, next year will be our N.E.W.T. year.

Needless to say, not many agreed with her reasoning.

Anyway, Hermione's hopes were dashed when a whole month passed and there was no sign of Snape anywhere near Hogwarts.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Very early morning. Department of Mysteries.

"You are early, you know," said the blonde man.

"So?"

"Well, I have got over the red tape. Took a bit of time what with the attack at Hogsmeade and all…"

"Have you started on it?"

"I will tomorrow. We do not want any complications now, do we?"

"Is that all?"

"This is very dangerous work, you understand?"

"Yes."

"One of us might get killed."

"I know."

"Or worse – we might be unsuccessful."

"I am used to injustices and difficulties."

"Do I get to know who you are?"

"No."

"If you are a Death-Eater…"

The man was quiet.

His companion from the Ministry fidgeted clearly showing his unease.

"Well, you are paying all expenses. I am not a rich man."

"Yes."

"Come tomorrow. I need your presence in the first ritual."

"Same time?"

"Yes, that will be fine."

"Tomorrow, then."

And with that the man pulled his hood further down and exited the room. The blonde shook his head and turned back to his work. Some people really knew what extremity meant!

-o-o-o-o-o-

Once outside the Ministry, the man disapparated to the Leaky Cauldron. Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place wasn't far from there.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Serpentia…

Once again, thought Severus wryly and proceeded towards his ancestral home.

Serpentia was a building which clearly showed its age. It was made of stone in the fashion which prevailed more than 600 years ago. Snape was not a common name. Not everybody knew about them. And yet in the Middle Ages, they had been granted knighthood. All pointed to one fact – they had been important spies.

Severus attached no importance to the fact. He was a spy of his own accord. Not even due to circumstances, he always insisted. Dumbledore always tried to dissuade him from this occupation. Why he would do that, Snape had never understood. He was profiting by it, and if anyone was suffering real loss, it was Severus and nobody else.

Another prominent trait of Snapes' had been their secrecy. If you wanted a Secret-Keeper, it was once said among certain people, you ought to ally with a Snape.

Severus was manipulative rather than secretive. He used the resources – namely, secrets – available to him to suit his purpose. He was sly, crafty and cunning. He was rather proud of himself.

That did not necessarily make him evil though. Dumbledore was manipulative. Potter, Sr. had been sly. Black had been crafty and cunning. Even now, after his death, Severus wondered what made Black a Gryffindor. Was he truly braver than he was ambitious? Not that Severus thought so. In Severus' opinion, the old Sorting Hat was a joke. It had sorted Longbottom in Gryffindor rather than Hufflepuff, Pettigrew in the same rather than a Slytherin, Lovegood in Ravenclaw rather than a Hufflepuff (where, in his opinion, all dunderheads were supposed to be) and Miss Granger in Gryffindor rather than Ravenclaw.

By the by, he was truly glad that the subject of Miss Granger no longer unsettled him.

It had been just… well, hormones, he supposed. He shuddered. He truly wished that a forty year old man like him might not be ruled by something so trivial.

Pushing the subject down, he went around the house, relearning the feelings that had passed him when he had last been here.

He settled for a guest room on the ground floor at present. He wasn't here to live permanently and it won't do to return to his own room. It somewhat scared him.

It was unexplainable. He cursed Fudge for the gross injustice meted out to him. He was more than willing to hex most of the Wizengamot into the next millennium. All because he was not afraid of the consequences. What he was afraid of was memories. It had taken him an awfully long time to grow indifferent towards her memories. And the last thing he wanted now was a repeat of the torture he had gone through after her death.

He threw himself in an overstuffed armchair, pulling out a bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey. Inebriation was highly underrated.

-o-o-o-o-o-