Chapter 6: The Lord of the Dark
Written by: Callisto Callispi
Wormtail hurried along the trails that he had marked. A sharply curved crescent moon shone wickedly like the slanted eye of a cat. It's luster cast an eerie silver glow on the rolling hills of England.
Tears of fear ran down his cheeks. Somehow, he had to kill Harry Potter or at least hand him over to the Dark Lord. No easy task. Dumbledore guarded the castle of Hogwarts, and the enchantments around the school were stronger than ever. And he couldn't contact his source inside the castle.
Shivering, Wormtail headed for the Black Snake Inn. Maybe there, he could get some help.
Draco shoved the door to Filch's office open. The large wooden door slammed against the cold stone wall, and the unpleasant clang vibrated throughout the underground. Hermione's head shot up. She threw him a cold glare, her back stiff and her posture regal.
"Filch will be here soon." Hermione narrowed her eyes.
Draco glared and grabbed the vacant chair next to her. He dragged it away from her and to the other side of the desk. The metal bottom of the chairs leg screeched. Hermione winced.
Settled in, Draco sighed and rubbed his eyes and catching her stare, he mouthed the word 'mudblood' at her. Scowling, she whipped her head around.
Hermione squirmed in her seat, feeling very uncomfortable. She could almost feel his cold glare her back.
"PEEVES!"
Hermione jerked visibly, her heart racing. Was that Filch?
"PEEVES! YOU BLOODY BASTARD!"
Hermione jumped from her chair and dashed to the door to see what the commotion was about. Draco also did the same. She inched the door just slightly open, and the sight that welcomed her made choke back her laughter.
There Filch stood with Mrs. Norris clamped tight to his head, and Peeves, with a wand (obviously the stolen wand of an unfortunate student), had hexed a pig's snout on Filch. He laughed like a maniac, hovering just over the reach of Filch's jumping form who was attempting to get the wand back.
"PEEVES!" Filch roared with Mrs. Norris meowing continually. She grasped tight on the head of Filch, trying her best not to fall off. "I warn you to give that wand back to me! Or the Bloody Baron will surely hear of this!" yelled Filch.
That must have knocked some sense into Peeves. He grinned nastily and threw the wand next to the door where Hermione and Draco watched. With wide eyes, Hermione shut the door and hustled over to the chair, trying and hopelessly failing to keep a straight face. Draco also did the same.
From outside the dungeon door, the students could both hear the discordant conversation between the two. ("Fetch, Squibby!" "Peeves, you damnable beast!" "HEHEHEHE!" "MEOW!" "Get off Mrs. Norris!")
They heard a small 'POP!' Peeves obviously disapparated from the spot, leaving a very angry, poltergeist-less Filch.
The dungeon door slammed open, and in came Filch, grabbing Mrs. Norris by the top of her neck. He had his hand over his nose, obviously trying to hide the pig's snout that Peeves conjured up. He then glared at both Hermione and Draco. Snarling, he said, "Don't move from your spots or I will convince Professor McGonagall to lengthen this happy detention." And with that threat, he whisked out of the room, muttering something about surgery.
Hermione sputtered out a small giggle, not caring if Draco stared at her. Mrs. Norris hissed and bared her fangs.
"Er . . . Granger, that cat looks like --"
But before Draco could finish, Mrs. Norris bounded from the desk with her claws glimmering like knives . . . headed straight for Hermione's face.
"Wait!"
Frozen in her spot, Hermione watched, shocked as the cat froze in mid-air in front of her. She turned to face Draco and gasped, seeing him with his wand pointed straight at Mrs. Norris. His eyes were wide, amazed at what he had done.
"REOOORRRW!"
But Hermione did not even notice that the cat fell to the ground in front of her. She kept her bewildered gaze on Draco. He had just . . . helped her.
"The cat's twitching," he muttered, pocketing his wand, looking horribly confused over the turn of events.
"Malfoy. You . . . you just . . ."
He smirked. "I just saved your face?"
Her voice failed her. Cocky little . . . "Something along the lines of that."
"Well don't think too much of it, Granger. I can't stand staring at your hideous face right now. Think what horrors I would have to endure if that cat shed any blood."
Hermione's hands clenched into fists. How she wanted to pummel that smirk off of his lips, even if -- as he put it so eloquently -- he did save her face. But she resisted the temptation, no matter how strong it was. Instead, she sat down resolutely, staring at the twitching Mrs. Norris with satisfaction.
The lake glittered like black diamonds. A phantom wind rustled the surrounding forests. Fog crept in through the woody land like ghosts.
The inn seemed warm under the cold glow of the moon. Golden light seeped out from the broken shutters like a mist of honey. Wormtail approached this inn, his eyes gazing at the sign on top of the door.
Black Snake Inn
"Wormtail!" cried the people in the inn.
Wormtail approached the bartending witch.
"What'll it be, sonny?" the old witch cackled, running a gnarled hand through her stringy gray hair. It was trouseled and so disheveled that it seemed she hadn't brushed it for days. She seemed to smile, but it was hard to tell. Her face was covered in numerous wrinkles, and her black eyes were squinty. One eye was red, as if she had an infection. "English Rum? Some heated Dragon Fluid?" she offered, holding up a red wine bottle.
Dragon Fluid was a drink that was once popular back in the days of the Dark Lord almost twenty years ago. However, when the Dark Lord had been reduced to nothing by Harry Potter, the ministry made the drink illegal for it involved the mass slaughter of dragons for their blood and other vital organs to make this highly alcoholic beverage.
"No, nothing for me, currently," said Wormtail wearily, removing the blue hood of his cloak.
The old witch frowned, her already haggish face looking even more gruesome. "If it's that unicorn milk you want, I can't. My supply is dry." She paled suddenly. "He doesn't want some," she asked, lowering her scratchy voice, "does he?"
Wormtail shook a weary head. "No, Aggy, he doesn't."
Some color came back into the old woman's face. She sighed in relief and grinned once more. "So, then, lad, what do you want?"
"I told you Aggy, nothi --" Wormtail stopped as he saw a tall man entering the inn.
His skin and hair were fair. Wormtail peered at the man closely. He couldn't quite place who it was. He seemed so familiar, though. Peter knew him. He saw him somewhere . . .
"Oh, Merlin," Wormtail whispered.
"Ah, Mr. Lucius Malfoy," the old witch cackled. She beckoned him over with her hand. "How nice to see you again."
Lucius looked up suddenly and caught sight of the old witch. He calmly walked over while Wormtail hastily pulled his hood back up.
"Ms, Agatha," Lucius greeted in a smooth voice. "How -- er -- pleasant to see you again," he added with a forced smile.
But Agatha didn't acknowledge his abhorrence toward her and began her endless chattering.
"I can feel it in the wind, you see. You-Know-Who is rising once again and he's deeply angry over something. The air trembles with his anger. He had something stolen from him --"
"What?" Lucius demanded. Wormtail's head snapped up.
You fool! he raged in his head. You don't bring that up, for Christ's sake! He looked around desperately. There had to be a way to get out of here, unnoticed. By the look of things, this fool was about to garble out every bit of information regarding him and his master. Trust a senile clairvoyant to do no less.
Agatha, however, seemed bewildered. "What?"
"About the Dark Lord," said Lucius. He leaned over the counter. "What about the Dark Lord?" he pressed.
"Oh!" cried Agatha, gleefully cackling. "The dark master himself is regaining power! Ever since the last misfortune six years ago, he was slowly recovering. But there are rumors in the shadows. The Dark Lord is angry. Something was stolen from him."
"H-How . . . why . . . when . . . where did you get this information?" Lucius sputtered.
Wormtail felt the same as Lucius. No one should have known about the Dark Lord or the books yet! Aggy was as potent as ever.
"No need to be rude now," Agatha said displaying her blackened teeth.
Shut your mouth, hag! Wormtail cried in his head. He took his wand out from his cloak pocket. He would have to perform the Avada Kadavra curse if he had to, but he didn't want to deal with Lucius Malfoy at the moment. He was sure that he would question how this hag knew about his master, and after he'd get the details, he's blab to the Dark Lord about it. Surely he would get punished!
"Wormtail here," she motioned, pointing a finger towards him, "comes here practically twice a week to purchase some unicorn milk for his master."
Lucius's head turned immediately to where Wormtail was sitting. His face turned red with either anger or disbelief or both.
WENCH! Wormtail pulled out his wand and threw back his cloak. "Yes, Malfoy. It is I, Wormtail. I have been nursing our master back to health when disloyal followers like you abandoned him to die." His tone sounded much more braver than he felt. He pointed his wand straight at Lucius's throat.
"Wormtail!" Agatha shrieked. "What are you doing?" She grabbed a knife and held it out in front of her.
"Put away that silly knife, woman. You know it cannot stand up to a wand." Wormtail glanced over his shoulder. "If you do not want to get hurt, better leave now."
The many people who were occupying the inn fled.
Lucius Malfoy's eyes widened. "You!" His surprised face reformed back into a nasty smile. He held up his hands. "Wormtail, we both know that you could never kill a fellow death eater. It's against the Dark Lord's code. Besides," he drawled, "I have no wand. You will achieve nothing here by killing me except to prove to the Dark Lord that you are a coward."
Wormtail's hand quivered. It was true. The Dark Lord wouldn't stand for cowards, and whoever broke that sacred code but Voldemort himself was punishable by the Crutatius Curse.
"S-so? I'm sure I'll be doing my m-master a favor by g-getting rid of you," Wormtail stuttered.
Lucius smirked. "Oh, I don't think so, Wormtail," he answered a matter-of-factly. "The Dark Lord has clearly declared that my son would become his successor. To kill the biological father of his heir is almost blasphemous."
Wormtail opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came from his dry throat. It was all true, what Malfoy said. And as much as he hated it, he couldn't harm Lucius at all.
"Now, may I ask you where the Dark Lord is currently residing?" Lucius asked.
"Why?" spat Wormtail. "You wish to go to him again, after you failed a task that needed to be completed?"
"You fool, I succeeded in my task. I have matters to deal with him, also," said Lucius venomously. He looked lazily at Wormtail. "Not that it's any of your concern. And my sources tell me that you were involved in that . . . ah . . . candle incident?"
Wormtail dropped his wand with a loud clatter.
Lucius smiled coldly and bent down to pick it up. "Now then, Wormtail," he said, twirling the wand before his fingers, calmly sitting in the chair. "Tell me everything that has happened since the days of the ceremony."
Wormtail fervently shook his head back and forth. "I didn't do it!"
Lucius said nothing. He just smirked.
"You must know, please, my friend, Lucius," pleaded Wormtail desperately.
Lucius kept silent once more. His gray eyes glittered with malice as he gripped Wormtail's wand. "Friend?" spat Lucius finally. "Bah. Don't make me hex you. Now speak, and I shall spare the Dark Lord the news of your stupidity."
What could Wormtail do? He knew he had botched the branding ceremony. It was not a huge accident, but it could be fatal to both the Malfoy child and the Dark Lord if handled carefully. He hung his head and began to speak.
And all the while, Lucius sat there and listened with an odd gleam in his eyes.
After sitting in silence for about half an hour, Hermione and Draco were almost both asleep their chairs. They were incredibly tired to begin with and sitting in silence with nothing to do made them thoroughly exhausted. The office was blissfully silent. Mrs. Norris crawled away somewhere out of their sights, obviously not wanting to be hexed again.
Hermione could hear Draco yawn. She followed the pattern and rested her head on the arm of the chair. She was beginning to doze off, and it felt extremely satisfying.
Suddenly, she was rudely jerked from her daze by the sudden creak from the door.
"Get UP!" roared Filch.
Hermione groaned quietly and lifted her heavy head up. The corners of Draco's eyes were red. Hermione noticed that the caretaker's nose was fixed. She sighed and yawned once more, disappointed. She wished Filch kept his pig snout. At least that was something that could have lightened her dreary mood.
"Imagine," snarled Filch. He strode towards his desk. "Two students who are idle during their detention." He clucked with his tongue and sat down on his chair. "Imagine what the professors would say."
Filch smirked at both of them and picked up a quill when he scrunched up his eyebrows. He bent down and picked up a small, furry, object. "Mrs. Norris?" he asked incredulously. The cat purred back desolately. Her left legs twitched.
"What's wrong? Why are you twitching?"
Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
Filch glowered at the students. "You two! You two did something to my cat, didn't you!"
"No!" started Hermione. "It's just that -- that she fell off the . . . the --"
"The desk! She -- er -- tripped over something and fell. We tried to help her, but she wouldn't let us get near her," Draco supplied.
Filch rose up from his chair. "Do you think I'm stupid? You hexed my cat!"
"We didn't --"
"I cannot believe this. Even when in trouble already --" sneered Filch.
Before either Hermione or Draco had a chance to respond, the headmaster walked in through the door and smiled pleasantly at the caretaker. "Fancy seeing you here Argus!" he cried in surprise, glancing at Draco and Hermione.
"Headmaster," he said in an oily voice, the sneer on his face molding into a polite smile. "Of course I would be here. Have you heard differently?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and he smiled. "Well, the last I heard, you were chasing Peeves down the whole bottom corridor. According to General Tarcloune, of course."
General Tarcloune was a ghost who wandered down the bottom floors often, moaning about tripping and dying upon his own sword.
"Yes, well," Filch spat, "Peeves has been causing a lot of troubles nowadays."
"Yes," said Dumbledore. He looked over at Hermione and Draco. "And I hope our partners in crime aren't causing trouble."
Draco snorted and crossed his arms. Hermione merely blushed. Partners in crime indeed.
Filch looked at the students and snarled, "They are a rowdy lot, I tell you that. But that's not why you are here, correct?" Filch mumbled something under his breath to Dumbledore.
Dumbledore mumbled something back to Filch, not at all audible to the students.
Surprisingly, Filch shook his head in the most calm manner and motioned for Dumbledore out to the hallway. "No, headmaster, there is also something regarding the -- ah -- current events that need discussing," he mumbled.
The headmaster rubbed his chin and nodded. He made his way outside of the office as Hermione and Draco's eyes closely trailed them. Filch followed and Dumbledore said in an airy tone. "Just a minute of his time, Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy. Be patient, I'm sure that you both will be enthused by your next task."
Hermione resisted and urge to protest as Filch, reviving his nasty attitude, snarled towards the two students.
As soon as the door was closed, Hermione sank deeply into her chair. Mrs. Norris hissed at her.
She glanced at Draco who was staring intently at the ground. He must have felt her staring at him so he sharply turned his head to look at Hermione. She quickly reverted her eyes to the cat, inwardly moaning. This was going to be a long night.