Arc 6
Part 2: There's just no time to die
"You say you are our Battle Transfiguration Professor?"
Myhaver questioned, "First of all, sit down and second of all, Yes, I am, Harry. You must've noticed that a new subject has been introduced in your booklist, has it not?"
Harry was perplexed as he sat down. He couldn't recall seeing a new subject in the booklist. So, he turned towards the others and they looked equally confused. He turned back towards Myhaver and said, "No, I don't think so, Professor."
Myhaver facepalmed. 'That old goat didn't tell him? Come on,' he thought. He looked up and looked into the depths of each student's eyes present. Neville Longbottom's dark brown, Ron Weasley's ocean blue, Hermione's soft chocolate brown and Harry's emerald green. He then said, " Mister Potter, Weasley, Longbottom and Miss Granger, this year, a new compulsory subject has been issued by the Ministry in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration respectively. A new Professor would be taking on the Transfiguration spo-" but before he could say anything, Hermione interrupted him.
"Wait," she asked.
Irked at being interrupted in between, he barked out, "What?"
"What happened to Professor McGonagall? Isn't she supposed to teach Transfiguration?"
"I am coming to that Miss Granger. Since Headmaster Dumbledore is going to be away for most of the year, Professor McGonagall is going to take over her Headmistress duties for the time being Dumbledore is away."
"Why would he be away?" Harry replied, drumming his finger on his thigh.
"Trying to find and destroy the Horcruxes," Myhaver replied.
Neville and Ron questioned in unison, "Horcruxes?"
All three of them turned towards the pair and said, "Anchors tethering Voldemort's soul to the plane of the living."
Neville and Ron could only widen their eyes.
"So, you are saying that You-Know-Who has slipped of his rocker this much only to what- stay alive? He is that scared of death?"
"He is, Weasley."
"No wonder he is such a big nutter to freaking feast on hearts and- oh god I am going to lose my lunch," he then ran off to the door that was in the corner of the compartment which thankfully turned out to be a bathroom and he promptly puked.
As he came back wiping, he was confused as he saw Neville not being as disgusted by it but at the same time his yowl of disgust as the entirety of the process of Horcrux production which registered in him calmed him to an extent.
As he sat down, he noticed refreshments floating in. Everyone took the nearest beverage and snack the nearest to them and started eating. As they were eating, Harry swallowed and then spoke.
"Excuse me but how exactly do you know Dumbledore's plan of hunting down the Horcruxes?"
Myhaver gulped down his sandwich, then took a deep sip out of his glass, wiped his mouth on a napkin and then chuckled, his deep raspy voice rumbling in his chest and echoing in the room for a brief while.
"So, you finally caught on, eh? You are a smidge faster than your father but slower than what your mother could've probably guessed it in," he then got up with his hands behind his back, began to pace around and continue.
"You see, I am also a part of the Order. Dumbledore, I and my father have all been tracking down Horcruxes ever since Tom made a return. Although, in a recent expedition where all three of us had to go on our own ways, Dad got attacked by a pair of Tom's lackeys," all of the teens gasped sharply at that.
Myhaver looked grim as he continued, "I heard the spell clashes and for a brief moment, Dad screamed. I ran over to help and I saw seven of his men attacking my father while he was just backed into a corner, his shield flickering. I jumped in, diverted their attention to myself and began taking them all on. I managed to incinerate one to cinders, cut two in half with my axe and burn another one alive but they just kept coming. I was sure that I couldn't keep the fight up," he then took a sip from his drink and continued.
"Then I kept on killing them with my axe and wand, I lost my left index finger and thumb. My left arm itself was looking pretty bad. Have a look," he then lifted his hand which showed his scarred arm in full view.
The arm had long gashes running down the arm's length, looking as if an animal had mauled the arm apart. Jagged lines ran all the way from the roots of his fingers to his elbow, looking sporadic enough as if they were the attack patterns of a snake.
Faded like the memories of the past and an odd hue of white like the color of a bleached bone, the scars served as a reminder of his mistake and inability, to fend off the death eaters off until helped arrived. These same scars would constantly remind him of his mistake, always there, always present, always taunting him.
Harry and the others looked morose as they looked at the scarred hand. They also took notice how the left index finger and the thumb were actually prosthetics which looked as if they were made of metal but Hermione knew, that it really wasn't metal as metals reflected light but this didn't reflect anything. It just seemed to absorb the light. This wasn't any ordinary metal so she decided to speak up on it.
She asked, "Uh...Professor Slughorn?"
Myhaver turned towards Hermione and said, "Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Um…there is something odd about your left index finger and thumb. The metal it is built of is absorbing the light instead of reflecting it. What is up with that?"
Myhaver looked confused for a second before he let out a chuckle, "Finally someone got it. Even bloody Albus didn't get it! Anyways, this material right here," he tapped the aforementioned digits, "is actually metal but charmed to not shine as sometimes light can fall on it, making it shine and giving away my position whenever I am on raids or any mission."
Hermione let out a soft whistle at that, "That certainly explains a lot."
The rest of the teens nodded at her statement.
Ron furrowed his brows as he was collecting his thought before he spoke. "Uhm…Professor? Since you are Horace Slughorn's son, shouldn't you be like—I dunno…fifty years old or something? I only asked because you look rather similar to Professor Lupin, what with the gray hair and young face 'n all."
"De-aging potions keep me youthful, Weasley."
No sooner had the words left his mouth, everyone in the room had turned to face Myhaver, causing him to let out a nervous chuckle.
"Oh no no no! I do not do any rituals to make me look young! Albus hands me these potions- and to be fair- he has been handing me these since the sixties."
Harry who suspected the nonsense, asked, "Oh really now?" as he quirked an eyebrow in false curiosity.
Myhaver nodded in response, clearly not sensing the sarcasm in Harry's voice.
"And why specifically since the sixties?"
"Specifically, since the sixties because back then, I had opted for a job on her majesty's secret service as someone from the magical world helping out the muggle forces. I wasn't alone in this; a multitude of other wizards were also involved."
"Oh really?" Harry repeated, his sarcasm fading to exasperation.
"Yeah, I am currently in retirement from my spy life but sometimes I am called back. But when I am called, Dumbledore usually needs my expert assistance."
"Oh wow, " all of them were amazed by his rather tacky and dangerous life.
But however, Harry and Hermione exchanged a look at that. Deciding to question the old Professor, Hermione began to speak but however, Harry also spoke at the same time.
"Professo-" both of them began in unison but turned around to quiet the other.
"Let me speak first," they spoke in unison again.
"I am going to speak first," they did it again.
Both of them looked exasperated and began to rant, "ENOU-" but they immediately stopped once they realized they were speaking in unison again while Ron, Neville and Myhaver looked amused.
"Come on, Let me sp-"
Harry instantly quieted down as he realized they were talking in unison again and let Hermione speak. Finally. She thought as she let out a mental sigh of relief which came out as a huff like a horse which made Harry softly chuckle while Hermione spoke. The topic was instantly changed to a much darker subject and the mood in the carriage had visibly dampened as if someone had put a blanket of swamp humidity over them or as if a dementor was near.
"You were an agent on her majesty's secret service, right? Were you a 00 agent?"
Myhaver's eyes instantly narrowed down.
"How do you know about that?"
Hermione gulped and admitted, "My uncle was a 00 agent before being killed when I was eight years old," her throat began swelling up from the inside and her voice began to become shaky. Harry instantly put a comforting hand on her shoulder and lowly said, "You don't have to tell this Hermione. If it bothers you, then don't say it."
She took of the hand vehemently disagreed, "No! I have to say this to get this off of my chest. I have told nobody about it and bec-because of that, it is one of the things which l-l-linger in my mind when I am going to sleep," she stammered out as the memory hit her full force and her lower lip began trembling.
Harry's eyes widened at that and he ushered her to continue, responding to her thankful gaze with an encouraging smile.
"I am not sure what was my uncle's ranking as an agent, but I am quite sure that he was granted 00 status and his license to kill around six years before I was born. We were going to celebrate my eighth birthday at the McDonald's just around the block. And just as we were about to leave-"
"Hermione?"
An irate Hermione snapped and said, "What happened Ron!? Why did you interrupt me?"
Ron nervously let out, "Uh... what are MacDonolds?"
Hermione's irate mood instantly dissolved into a light giggle at his mispronunciation.
"R-Ron," her voice a little airy due to the giggle, "-first of all, its McDonald's, and second of all it's a place to eat."
Ron could only contemplate how odd muggles were whilst Hermione chose to continue the tale. Her mood instantly changing as she began to speak.
"So, as I was saying, as we were about to leave, Dad went to take a phone call. I remember the look on her face when he motioned for mum to follow him... C-curious as I was as an eight-year-old, I uh…" she paused and looked up fretfully.
"-I eavesdropped o-on them and th-then-," she found herself not able to continue, and tears leaked from her eyes as she sobbed into Harry's shoulder. Instinctively, he put his arms around her and traced comforting circles on her back, waiting for the tears to subside.
Harry whispered, "It's ok Hermione, let it out. Let it all out. It's ok- it's ok..." his voice got a little choked up listening to Hermione's cries as he felt as if he could do nothing but only comfort her till, she calms down. And without realizing it, he himself was softly sobbing too.
Ron put a comforting hand on her shoulder, "We are here for you Hermione. Don't worry."
"Yeah, we are here for you," Neville spoke.
"That we are," came from Myhaver in his deep raspy voice.
After a while as she began to calm down, Neville nudged her on, "Wouldn't you continue telling it? If you don't mind it of course."
Hermione softly said, "I need to tell this to get over it. I don't mind it."
"Go on then."
She then took a deep breath in, and then let it out, ready to face her one of her deepest troubles which has shaped her into what she was today.
"Alright so- m-my uncle w-was killed by a b-bullet to the head, I remember feeling n-" her voice began to be shaky and tears started to come up while she held them back and continued in the same teary voice.
"I- I remember feeling numb. Dead from the inside in a way because my uncle was one of the few people who appreciated my intelligence in my family apart from mum, dad and grandma. And he was the only one my mum and dad talked about my accidental magic bursts. I- I never got over his death. It always had left a h-hole- right here, " she pointed to her heart, "When my letter came, I th-thought, " she shuddered as she couldn't control her emotions anymore but being the stubborn witch she was, she trudged on.
"I thought that I would finally have a place where I could be appreciated by everyone and not be bullied b-but it also was here and I nearly got killed because of it," Ron guiltily looked down.
She then let out a teary smile and looked over to Harry and Ron.
"But then, these two came and helped me out and we have been friends ever since."
Time passed on before they could blink and Hogwarts was nearing. His suspicion with Malfoy's behavior at an all-time rise now, he was planning to check on him in the train itself but had no idea.
Since Hogwarts was nearing, Myhaver ushered them all to go and wear their uniforms and as all of them donned their robes, discussion began while Harry was lost in his thoughts.
"-is going to be the professor? I would've said no earlier but now I would have to agree. By the way, have you completed your homework, Ron?"
"Yeah, only Herbology is left."
"I'll help you with that, mate."
"Thanks Nev. What about you Harry? Harry?" Ron called out for Harry before noticing his eyes staring into nothing.
He snapped his fingers before Harry's face and called out, "Oi Harry, you there?"
Ron's voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts and he spluttered out, "Wha- whe- Ron!? Quit disturbing me like that you git."
Ron just smiled sheepishly and then asked, "You done with your homework?"
"Yeah" Harry said, looking around restlessly. "I might take a walk, want to come with me?"
"Nah," Ron said, stretching out on his seat, "I'm happy where I am." Nodding in response, Harry stood and slid the glass door of the compartment aside, ignoring the stares he was receiving as he passed through the hallway.
As he was nearing the Slytherin compartment, he donned his invisibility cloak and noticed the compartment door being closed as someone was entering. He began picking up speed and as he reached the door, he hastily stuck out his foot to keep the door open. "What's wrong with this thing?" said the person, whom Harry recognized as Zabini, angrily as he smashed the sliding door repeatedly into Harry's foot.
Harry seized the door and pushed it open, hard; Zabini, still clinging on to the handle, toppled over sideways into Gregory Goyle's lap, and in the ensuing ruckus, Harry darted into the compartment, leapt onto Zabini's temporarily empty seat, and hoisted himself up into the luggage rack. It was fortunate that Goyle and Zabini were snarling at each other, drawing all eyes onto them, for Harry was quite sure his feet and ankles had been revealed as the cloak had flapped around them; indeed, for one horrid moment he thought he saw Malfoy's eyes follow his trainer as it whipped upwards and out of sight. But then Goyle slammed the door shut and flung Zabini off him; Zabini collapsed into his own seat looking ruffled, Vincent Crabbe returned to his comic, and Malfoy, sniggering, lay back down across two seats with his head in Pansy Parkinson's lap to which, Harry wasn't unfazed at all as he lay curled uncomfortably under the cloak to ensure that every inch of him remained hidden, and watched Pansy stroke the sleek blond hair off Malfoy's forehead, smirking as she did so, as though anyone would have loved to have been in her place. The lanterns swinging from the carriage ceiling cast a bright light over the scene: Harry could read every word of Crabbe's comic directly below him.
Malfoy began, "So, did you manage to see where did Potter and his group go?"
Zabini answered, "The new Professor's cabin."
The information did not seem to please Malfoy.
"Did you manage to see who it was?"
"Yeah, Myhaver Slughorn."
Malfoy gave a dismissal huff, "Slughorn's son, a bloody duelling champion and a mastery in Transfiguration to boot. No wonder Dumbledore put him in the spot- probably to safeguard Potter," the expression that was etched on his face made it look like he had just eaten a packet of sour milk.
"Who else went with Potter?"
"All I could make out were Potter and three other people. Best if you count Granger and Weasley in that-"
"- doesn't surprise me- always licking his arse and staying where he goes."
"The other one was a tall male with a head of black hair- that's all I could figure out."
Malfoy sat up straight.
"He invited Longbottom?"
Zabini looked confused for a second.
"I mean- Thomas was in his compartment- it probably was Longbottom after all."
"What's Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?"
Zabini shrugged.
"Potter, precious Potter, he had to look at the baby he was babysitting," sneered Malfoy, "a load of horsecock he is. I pity Slughorn's taste. Maybe he's going a bit senile. Perhaps the senility has been passed down from father to son. After all, the apple doesn't fall that far from the tree."
Malfoy looked over to window and continued.
"Shame, my father always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a friend of his-"
"I just thought of something," said Zabini, cutting of Malfoy due to which he looked irked for a second but then let him continue, "Since you theorize that he has been put here by Dumbledore to guard Potter, you can safely assume that he is part of that rumored group of wizards and witched Dumbledore made in the first war."
Malfoy forced out a singularly humorless laugh.
"Well, who gives a damn? I have better things to do rather than ponder about that stuck-up son of a bitch that has the name Potter." Malfoy yawned as he said that.
"I mean- I might not even be returning for my seventh year."
"What do you mean, you might not be at Hogwarts next year?" Harry looked over to who said that and did not look fazed at all seeing Pany Parkinson.
"Well, you never know," said Malfoy with the ghost of a smirk. "I might have--er--moved on to bigger and better things."
Crouched in the luggage rack under his cloak, Harry's heart began to race. What would Ron and Hermione say about this? Crabbe and Goyle were gawping at Malfoy; apparently they had had no inkling of any plans to move on to bigger and better things. Even Zabini had allowed a look of curiosity to mar his haughty features. Pansy rested her hand on Malfoy's shoulder, looking dumbfounded.
"Do you mean—Him?"
Malfoy shrugged.
"Mother wants me to complete my education, but personally, I don't see it as that important these days. I mean, think about it... When the Dark Lord takes over, is he going to care how many O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s anyone's got? Is he going to? Of course he isn't... it'll be all about the kind of service he received, the level of devotion he was shown. Why would he even care about it?"
"And you think you'll be able to do something for him?" asked Zabini scathingly. "Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet?"
"I've just said, haven't I? Maybe he doesn't give a shit if I'm qualified. Maybe the job he wants me to do isn't something that you need to be qualified for," said Malfoy quietly.
Crabbe and Goyle were both sitting with their mouths open like gargoyles. Pansy was gazing down at Malfoy as though she had never seen anything so awe-inspiring.
"I can see Hogwarts," said Malfoy, clearly relishing the effect to he had created to the utmost point he can he as he pointed out of the blackened window. "We'd better get our robes on."
Harry was so busy staring at Malfoy, totally dumbfounded, he did not notice Goyle reaching up for his trunk; as he swung it down, it hit Harry hard on the side of the head., catching him offguard. He let out an involuntary gasp of pain, and Malfoy looked up at the luggage rack, frowning. The hell was that?
Harry was not afraid of Malfoy and neither was he deterred by the idea of duelling him, but he still did not much like the idea of being discovered hiding under his Invisibility Cloak by a group of unfriendly Slytherins. Eyes still watering and head still throbbing, he drew his wand, careful not to disarrange the cloak and blow his cover, and waited, breath held. To his relief, Malfoy seemed to decide that he had imagined the noise; he pulled on his robes like the others, locked his trunk, and as the train slowed to a jerky crawl, fastened a thick new traveling cloak round his neck, preparing to disembark the train as it reaches Hogsmeade Station.
Harry could see the corridors filling up again and hoped that Hermione and Ron would take his things out onto the platform for him; he was stuck where he was until the compartment had quite emptied. At last, with a final lurch, the train came to a complete halt. Goyle threw the door open and muscled his way out into a crowd of second years, punching them aside; Crabbe and Zabini followed.
"You go on," Malfoy told Pansy, who was waiting for him with her hand held out as though hoping he would hold it. "I just want to check something."
"Ok," and Pansy left. Now Harry and Malfoy were alone in the compartment. People were filing past, descending onto the dark platform. Malfoy moved over to the compartment door and let down the blinds, so that people in the corridor beyond could not peer in. He then bent down over his trunk and opened it again.
Harry peered down over the edge of the luggage rack, his heart pumping a little faster. What had Malfoy wanted to hide from Pansy? Was he about to see the mysterious broken object it was so important to mend?
"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"
Without warning, Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry, who was caught unaware, was about to be paralyzed, but he flicked his wand and it splashed harmlessly against the ceiling, but at that moment, Malfoy cast again but this time, his aim was true and Harry was paralyzed.
As though in slow motion, he toppled out of the luggage rack and fell, with an agonizing, floor-shaking crash, at Malfoy's feet, the Invisibility Cloak trapped beneath him, his whole body revealed with his legs still curled absurdly into the cramped kneeling position. He couldn't move a muscle; he could only gaze up at Malfoy, who smiled broadly.
"I knew it," he said victoriously. "I heard Goyle's trunk hit you. And I thought I saw something white flash through the air after Zabini came back..." His eyes lingered for a moment upon Harry's trainers, thinking about what had happened a few minutes ago and then asked, "That was you blocking the door when Zabini came back in, I suppose?"
He considered Harry a moment.
"You didn't hear anything I care about, Potter. But while I've got you here..."
And he stamped, hard, on Harry's face. Harry felt his nose break; blood spurted everywhere.
"That's from my father. Now, let's see..."
Malfoy dragged the cloak out from under Harry's immobilized body and threw it over him.
"I don't reckon they'll find you till the train's back in London," he said quietly. "See you around, Potter if you are lucky…or not."
And taking care to promptly tread on Harry's fingers to add salt to the wound, Malfoy left the compartment.
AN: Sorry for the long wait y'all. It's just that my life has taken a busy turn and I can't even get a little bit of time to upload so sorry for not uploading last week and uploading this late this week.Anyways, did ya like the chapter? Review down below!