Chapter 11

Deaths and Devil's Snare

The rain lashed at the windows of the large bar. Clear drops rolled down the translucent glass. The dingy place was warm, and housed a sparse population of wizards and witches who were seated silently. The unreality of the silence was more pronounced when not a muscle moved at the violent rattling of the panes of glass. The warmth of the place, though, was restricted to the physical plane. The bar had an extremely tense atmosphere, almost sinister. Eyes darted about the room. It would have been natural to assume, almost obvious, for any sane man, that the entire party was expecting something; they were in anticipation. Yet, they sat like sculptures carved out of a remnant stone.

A lonely, ancient table at one corner had a cloaked man for company. His table had a single, dirty glass that had been drunk out of. His head, covered entirely by his cloak, rested on the table, with his arms around it. He was taken to be asleep, after wondering why there was something to be expected. And he was probably the only one who could have achieved this feat in this sinister room.

The door opened silently. A silent shudder passed through the entire place, though none of them moved. It was understood that they had another guest by the sudden magnification of the sound of rain, the aroma of wet soil, and the sudden gust of wind that brought a chill to the bar.

A figure entered, almost invisible in the darkness owing to the black cloak. It moved in slowly, and paused. There wasn't an inch of bare skin visible, for the head was bowed and hooded, and the hands were hidden in the cloak. Behind the dark figure, the door stirred, and swung shut. The figure, still near the door, stood as still as any of the walls.

Amongst the crowd, one man stirred. Then, without warning, there was a burst of blinding white light, the sound of a toppling chair, and a jet of green light, and a loud, resonating crash. A hand, terrifyingly pale, in deep contrast to the robe, had sprouted out of the cloak of the guest, and it held a wand raised high. An entire table had been shattered, causing the crash, and the other man had his wand clenched in one fist, with a fierce brown beard till his chest, and his features bent in rage. A chair lay toppled in front of him. And for the first time, the other occupants showed signs of life, and looked around to see the beginnings of a duel.

"Goin' ter kill me, are yeh?" The bearded man bellowed to the cloaked visitor.

There was the sound of a door creaking open, and the barman entered, with a shocked look. It looked almost comical, with his thick but short beard that grazed his entire jawline till the ears, and with his hands held out.

"Now, what is this, Bradforgie? I don't want to see a duel here!" He shouted.

"You shall not see it, if that is what you wish."

It was the hooded man who spoke. It was the first time he spoke since his arrival. He spoke in a rich voice, in an unbelievably calm tone. But something in that voice dragged a tinge of panic in the barman's face.

"And what - what do you mean by that?" He asked, turning, his voice growing slightly high pitched at the raised wand.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The barman's eyes widened in shock, as the jet of green light hit him squarely in the chest. The life left his eyes, and he fell with a second crash.

"NO!" Screamed the bearded man, apparently called Bradforgie. He whipped his wand about, sending curse after curse, causing a display of orange, violet, blue and even red. The hooded man brought down his wand too, and blocked each one without having to move anything but his arm.

It was a full scale duel, the duel of two extremely well trained wizards. The windows soon shattered, shelves were transfigured to go limp and green and grow red blobs, tables were powdered, and the bar was flashing with lights. Bradforgie then waved his wand about, swearing loudly, and conjured snakes that multiplied indefinitely, racing towards the cloaked man, their hissing filling the whole pub. All the occupants now had their heads turned.

Bradforgie's opponent lowered his wand instead, in a completely unexpected gesture. Bradforgie smiled a wicked smile, in assumed victory, and glanced at a nearby seated occupant.

Suddenly there was a loud, controlled hiss, in a strangely ordered manner. It was emanating from the hooded wizard. Bradforgie jerked his head, his bright green eyes widening in shock, as the snakes slithered to a stop before his opponent. The hissing stopped. The bearded wizard opened his mouth slowly, his eyes wide, and whispered: "Slytherin."

The cloaked man then hissed again, a short, venomous hiss. The snakes shot backward at inhuman speed towards Bradforgie, who slashed his wand again, baring his teeth, transforming the snakes to an enormous ball of fire, which blowed towards the other wizard. The hooded wizard simply flicked his wand-wrist, and the flames came to an abrupt halt before him, spread out as though across a wall, and flickered helplessly.

"Is that the best you can do, Bradforgie?" The hooded wizard asked. His voice carried a controlled sense of anger.

Bradforgie crinkled his nose in rage and slashed his wand again, sending a jet of purple light so fierce that the few other occupants leant back in reflex. But the other wizard simply raised his wand higher, and there was a loud clang as the curse hit his shield.

"You are pitifully weaker than what I have heard," he said.

"YEH WISH!" Screamed Bradforgie, and raised his wand. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The jet of green light burst from his wand, illuminated the entire room, and raced towards the hooded man, who remained still. Then he disappeared. The curse flew past where he stood, and collided into the door behind, setting it on flames and destroying it utterly. Bradforgie stood, staring blankly. Before he could roar with laughter, his opponent reappeared at the same spot, his wand raised, and murmured an inaudible incantation. What looked like black light escaped from the tip of his wand.

Bradforgie screamed in rage, waving his wand, and was forced two steps backward as the curse crashed into his defence without a sound. Then he panted, raising his eyebrows to look at his still unaffected opponent. He screamed again, and raised his wand. But there was a flash of red light, and his wand flew out of his sweaty hands, and landed beside his victorious opponent.

"WHO ARE YEH?" Bradforgie bellowed, stepping back. "AND WHAT DO YEH WANT WITH ME?"

The hooded wizard stepped forward noiselessly, and his cloak swirled behind him gracefully. It was almost as though he was gliding forward. Bradforgie eyed him, now nervously, as much as he tried to portray feigned courage.

"Who am I, you ask?" The cloaked man asked. He stopped, a few feet from his defeated opponent, and raised his pale hands to his hood. Bradforgie backed away a few steps again, as though looking at his face was fatal. There was nothing that suggested it, but it was an irrational instinct. It was almost as though he could feel the sense of power and coldness radiating from the other wizard.

In a swift motion, he lowered his hood. And Bradforgie opened his mouth in shock to see a face as handsome as his. Yet, there was something subtly wrong, something engraved in his face that brought out Bradforgie's fear, and broke down his defences. His hands trembled violently, and he dropped down to the floor, still attempting to back away.

He had dark hair, that fell to his face. He had hollow cheeks, clenched jaws and a beautifully proportioned nose. But his eyes seemed to shoot coldness and dominance. It was impossible to find a touch of warmth in those eyes.

"You are a skilled wizard, Bradforgie. I respect skilled and powerful wizards." He said. His voice was colder than ever, and sent a shiver down Bradforgie's spine. "But, there can only be one Dark Lord."

The rage and power in his voice sent Bradforgie to cower, and he raised his trembling hands to his face, in a last attempt to protect himself, but in vain. He saw the raised wand, and a gleam of red in the victor's eyes. His eyes widened as something broke within him, and a flood of terror and inhumane fear washed over him. His entire body shook helplessly. There was a jet of green light as he heard the fatal incantation.

Moments later, the door opened and closed noiselessly again, as the hooded wizard left, having accomplished his job. Just then, the man asleep at the corner table raised his head by an infinitesimal degree, and blinked. There was no expression on his face. He understood that it was not the entire pub that was expecting this, but Bradforgie alone.

As the three first years passed through the seemingly vacant common room, a figure drooping in a seat drifted into their view. Perce paused, as recognition washed over him, and he frowned. Subash and Roger, copying him, stopped too. The person seated did not seem to notice her new company, and sat still, apparently deep in thought.

"Susane?" Called Perce. The figure stirred so suddenly that the three boys started. She turned then, slowly, to face them. "Are you alright?"

"Yes — Yes, I'm — I'm fine," she said. Her voice was steady, but Perce noticed that her face was pale as a sheet. She attempted a small smile. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"We were heading to class," Subash said. "We have — er —" he turned to the others with a sheepish look.

"Herbology," said Perce.

"Herbology," Subash repeated, turning back to Susane, who grinned.

"And in case you're forgetting, you're in the same class as us," Perce put in helpfully. Susane sighed.

"Well, yes, I do remember that." She sighed again, and got up.

Just then, the door opened to the rather empty common room, and in came two people. Both of them caught sight of the occupants of the room and froze. Jake and Drake had identical raised eyebrows, while the former gulped. Drake clenched his fists, and his hand twitched to his pocket, and for a fraction of a moment he seemed to hesitate. Perce had his jaws clenched, his heart beating faster. One flick of his wand and Drake wouldn't be able to show his face for a week. He dared accuse and scream at Perce, who would have appreciated if he had at least a tinge of gratitude for saving his life from his own backfired plan. Subash and Roger stirred at his side, but he motioned them to remain calm. This was not their problem.

But the moment seemed to pass, and Drake satisfied himself with a look of deepest loathing thrown at Perce, and marched away towards the dormitory with Jake, his head hung, shuffling beside him.

Perce followed them with his eyes till they disappeared into the dormitory, his nails close to cutting through his palms.

"That was some moment," he heard Susane mutter. Subash sighed, as Perce smiled at Susane, calming himself.

"And that was one moment. Let us forget about it."

It was Roger who spoke. Perce turned to him, and his smile widened. Roger shrugged, and waved his hand to the open door.

"Now shall we move? Dangerous plants are waiting to welcome us to their poisonous and thorny hands," said Roger.

"Hands? More like frog tongues. You should see the way that Devil's Smear caught hold of my hand last class —"

"It's called Devil's Snare, Subash," muttered Perce warily. Roger sniggered silently.

"Whatever."

Susane fell silent again, and she was absent-mindedly picking up a book only to place it back there. Perce pretended not to notice, and, giving her a warm smile, ushered them out.

"Has this affair been cleared up, then?" Asked Susane. "It was that awful rat Drake, wasn't it?"

Perce nodded silently, and walked along, out of the common room. Only when Roger very kindly reminded them that they were the last to leave and needed to hurry, did they push their feet to move faster, towards the greenhouses.

"You young Slytherins here, I shall put you in detention the next time you're late!" Said Professor Sprout, who was their Herbology teacher. She was a dumpy little witch, with wavy hair, the brown colour of which was quite often interrupted by strands of grey. She had a patched and extremely dirty hat, with all her robes covered in mud. Perce almost always found her with a smile on her features.

"Sorry, Professor," muttered Perce, among the other murmurs of apology. She motioned them to take their places, restricting four to a tray.

"Not these darned plants again —" groaned Subash, catching sight of the wriggling tendrils of the Devil's Snare, while Perce suppressed a grin. Roger sniggered as he joined them at a tray along with Susane. Subash hoped he was low enough while making this remark, but sometimes life amuses itself by ignoring hopes.

"Yes, you shall be working with these darned plants, Mr. Shastri. I was terribly disappointed by your work last class. And most of yours, too," she added, jerking her head at the Hufflepuffs, who shared the class with the Slytherins. They immediately ceased their giggling and smirking and fumbled for their wands. "Terribly disappointed. As I have told you last class, this little plant —"

"'Little', really? It could strangle me in a heartbeat." Whispered Subash carefully enough this time, and Perce nodded, apparently lost looking at the plant. Roger and Susane seemed least bothered about the sometimes fatal plant.

"— so remember your Lighting Charms, I won't have fires here, now. Careful not to touch them, now, they don't harm you unless you do — Mr. Shastri are you paying attention to — DO NOT TOUCH THEM!" She shrieked, just as the tips of Subash's fingers brushed past the plant's vines.

The effect was instantaneous. As though activated supernaturally, the plant sprouted numerous springy tendrils, which at once coiled nimbly around Subash's wrist, as he tried to pull back, his face twisted in fear and shock. There were a few shrieks from the others as people backed off at once, and watched transfixed as Subash tried to wretch his hand out of the plant's hold.

"Relax, dear, don't panic, now! Don't move! You need to relax!" Cried Professor Sprout as she came hurtling forwards with her wand, pushing students out of the way.

"RELAX? THIS THING WILL STRANGLE ME! HELP! HELP ME!" Shouted Subash, only heightening the tension in the room.

"Lumos Maxima!"

There was a blinding white light for a fraction of a second, and the light forced all the eyes shut. The light then disappeared, fading as fast as it came. Subash felt his fingers again, which were numb from the pressure, as the plant shrunk away to its territory, and everyone blinked to see Perce with his wand out. Professor Sprout blinked twice, steadying herself. Then she looked at him, and suddenly smiled widely.

"Excellent, Mr. Jordan. Ten points to Slytherin," she turned to the class again. "And that is how you deal with a Devil's Snare, class." She said, beaming.

Subash opened his eyes slowly, still breathing hard, and clutched his sore hand with the other. He looked blank for a second. Then he looked around to find Perce going back to gazing at the plant like nothing happened.

"Oh my God Perce, thank you so much — I could have died — really, what my parents would think, dying at the hands of a stupid plant —" as though in response, the green mass of the plant stirred slightly, and Subash carefully backed away. Roger and Susane, who had been staring till then, exchanged amused looks.

"You just shouldn't have touched it," whispered Susane. Roger nodded, while Perce shrugged.

Subash gave them a wary look, before turning back to Perce.

"Really, they were much kinder the last time. I think old Sprout is growing wilder and more bloodthirsty to bring in these more ferocious ones... Oh if you hadn't saved me, Perce —"

Perce simply sighed. "It was a simple spell, Professor Sprout would have done it anyway — now keep silence before she notices that she hasn't taken points off of you for touching it."

Subash gulped, eyeing the plant cautiously as though it would attack if he breathed too loud.

A/N Thank you, all of you, for reading! Do comment, and promote it! And do give me ideas. Also, check out the links in my profile.

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