Wow... Thanks so very much to the massive amount of attention that was ignited from the last chapter. this story has officially surpassed my ANP: Year Four story in reviews, favs, and alerts despite being less than half the word size. I'm touched, truely I am. Please, please, please continue this wonderful relationship of writer/reader and continue to review so that my muse will surge forth into great storywriting and magnificent madness... yes madness, thats what it is... the good kind, not the bad...
Anywho, on with the next chapter!
Chapter Four
Seeds of Darkness
Veneficus had never found any being overly obnoxious before, even some incredibly hyper Bith he had had the unfortunate luck to run into on Nar Shaddaa, but Ronald Weasley pushed the limits of the young Sith's barely restrained patience. Veneficus seriously questioned the boy's intelligence, as he kept doggedly flirting with death at Veneficus' own hands. The red head simply refused to take in the fact that he was not, nor ever would be 'Harry Potter's' friend, and insisted on foolish tactics and swaggering over to him wherever he was and starting conversations like they were on speaking terms, or trying to explain to him why Gryffindor was better and that he needed to switch houses and 'return to the light.'
The Sith apprentice really enjoyed the irony of that line, and had to restrain himself from laughing out loud every time the witless child tried it on him. Almost several times a day, Zychre offered to bite the boy for him, injecting a lethal dose of venom, but Veneficus knew better than to allow the boy to die. Draco and the other Slytherins were getting just as tired of his continual presence as well, even going so far as to secretly hex the lump of a boy, entangling his legs or preventing him from speaking. Veneficus did nothing to stop them, rather enjoying the camaraderie that his fellow Slytherin student showed to him.
Luckily, Veneficus only had to deal with the annoying red haired boy during meals and in Potions class, and Professor Snape, despite how much he seemed to dislike the young Sith, prevented the entirety of Gryffindor house from focusing on anything but their work.
That was, until Veneficus saw the notice board the middle of the second week of classes. Slytherins and Gryffindors would be taught their first flying lesson together, starting on Thursday. Veneficus groaned inwardly. While he was keenly interested in absorbing as much magical knowledge as he could, broomstick flying included, having Weasley there would prove to be a potentially fatal distraction. Unfortunately, Draco misinterpreted his hesitation for the lesson as nerves about flying.
"Don't worry Harry, I highly doubt you'll make a fool of yourself during the flying lesson, probably," he smirked, "Anyway, we'll at least get to see how bad the Weasel is despite his claims."
Wizarding children did do a lot of exaggeration when it came to flying. Veneficus decided it spawned from not having enough productive outlets in their miserable lives, but he never expressed this opinion, as he was trying to blend in, and therefore showed keen interest when Draco told his boastful stories for the hundred and eleventh time.
By exactly three thirty in the afternoon on the designated day, the Slytherins had arrived at the predetermined location for the flying lesson. The Gryffindors were about five minutes late, and Madam Hooch, the flying instructor and Quidditch referee frowned at them before commanding them all to find a broom and stand next to it. Veneficus stood between Draco and Theodore Nott on the 'Slytherin' side of the brooms, and standing across, unfortunately, from Weasley himself who smiled and tried to get his attention with small waves of various limbs. Rolling his eyes at Draco, the Sith apprentice refocused his full attention on the instructions being given by Madam Hooch.
When he put his right hand over his broom and intoned the 'Up' command, he was only mildly surprised when the broom all but leapt into his hand, far faster than anyone else of the few who got it on their first chance. The lesson was very informative, but unfortunately, Neville, the hapless boy who had lost his toad on the train, clearly was terrified of the thought of flying, and inadvertently pushed on far too early, and slipped off as his broom rocketed into the air, breaking his wrist and singlehandedly interrupting the lesson.
Madam Hooch escorted the whimpering boy to the infirmary, and no sooner were they out of earshot than Draco burst into laughter.
"Did you see his face, the great lump?"
The other Slytherins joined in. Veneficus smiled, but did not laugh. The humiliation of how weak the boy was delight enough for the Sith, mocking him further was unnecessary. Zychre hissed, "Ssstupid fat human should know better. Ssskies are meant for deliciousss birdsss, not humansss or sssnakesss…"
"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped a Gryffindor girl, Parvati Patil. Veneficus had made a note to memorize every first year's name and face for future reference; you never knew who you might get set to do a project with.
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl with a really shallow personality. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies Parvati."
"Look!" Draco said, interrupting the bickering girls, and he ran forward, snatching something small and round from the ground where Neville had landed. Holding it up triumphantly, Draco gloated, "It's a Rememberall, precious Neville must have lost his only ability to remember where he left his brain."
The Slytherins hooted in renewed laughter and Veneficus could see the Gryffindors, Weasley in particular, fuming in anger.
"Give it here Malfoy!" Weasley half-yelled, and Draco smirked nastily back at him. "No, I think I won't…"
Veneficus decided now was the time to act, and curb this impertinence from the blond boy, "Give it to me Draco," he said calmly, urging with the Force for the boy to obey. Draco visibly shivered, and Veneficus realized that the boy's limited sensitivity to the Force was allowing him to feel when the Dark Side was being used around him. He smirked as small pieces of a larger puzzle started to fall into place. Draco's smirk faltered slightly, before he walked over and handed the Rememberall to the Sith Lord. "Thank you Draco," Veneficus said, before snatching up his broom. "If Neville is so weak that he lost this, then he no longer deserves it," he addressed to the students at large. Weasley's entire face was starting to go red, "Harry, give it back to Neville, come on mate…"
Veneficus stared coldly back, "I honestly have no idea what you are talking about Ronald Weasley, nor do I appreciate your continued attempts to pretend that you and I are anything remotely similar to friends. Now this is mine, and I claim it by rights of strength, unless you want to try and take it from me…"
"Let me bite him for you masssster..." Zychre whined, but Veneficus soothed the snake with the Force
The challenge was met with silence from the rest of the students, even the Slytherins cowed by the malice in Veneficus' words. Weasley, naturally, had clearly not heard anything that the young Sith had said, and continued to plead, "Harry, you don't know what you're talking about," he smiled stupidly before continuing, "of course were friends, you're just spending too much time listening to those slimy snakes to realize it. Now give me back Neville's Rememberall and we can go back to the castle…"
Veneficus laughed, high and cold note echoing around the clearing. Most of the students shivered. "You are a fool then…" Veneficus said, his voiced dripping with the Dark Side, "I will not give my new trophy away, and if you do not force it from my grasp, Neville will never see it again, you simple-minded beggar."
It must have been something about the word 'beggar' that stung particularly deep, because Weasley suddenly screamed, fists balled up, and charged the Sith apprentice head-on like some foolish Jedi. Veneficus simply stood there, waiting for the very last second before leaping to the side, sweeping the red haired boy's legs from him as his momentum carried him past, and thudding hard to the cold ground.
Still the fool did not let up, getting to his feet and trying to attack again, swinging his fists blindly trying to hit Veneficus. But the Sith was far too agile for him, ducking and weaving easily around his careless attacks, before finally seizing the boy by the front of his robes and, still clutching the Rememberall, planting his fist into the boy's nose, relishing in the crunching feeling as the cartilage crumbled beneath his strike.
Weasley collapsed, clutching his broken nose and whimpering in pain, blood gushing from both nostrils. "What in the devil is going on here!" came an adult voice from toward the castle. Veneficus looked up from his hand, coated in the red head's blood, to see Professor's McGonagall and Snape hurrying toward them.
"Potter!" Snape called as they arrived, and he saw the pitiful boy still weeping no the ground, "What happened here?" he said slowly, calculating eyes taking in the entire scene.
"Weasley attacked Harry, Sir," Draco spoke up at once, and the other Slytherin's nodded in agreement, "Harry only used one punch to take him out, other than that he didn't lay a finger on Weasley."
Snape looked at each of the Slytherins, taking in their agreement to the statement before turning back to Veneficus, "Is this true Potter?" he demanded.
"Yes sir, it is." The young Sith Lord stated flatly.
Snape then turned to McGonagall, who was organizing the Gryffindors to escort Weasley up to the infirmary, and was just turning herself toward the rest of the student, fire in her eyes, "Self defense, Minerva," Snape said, forestalling her outburst.
"Self defense? Self defense!" the old woman blustered, "The boy doesn't have a scratch on him, and Weasley has a shattered nose, how is that self defense Severus?"
"Weasley clearly started the fight," Snape continued calmly, "and Potter ended it as quickly as he could while protecting himself."
"Fine," the head of Gryffindor said, throwing up her hands, "But Dumbledore will hear of this Severus, I guarantee that!" And with that she stormed off. Snape followed soon after, first directing the Slytherins to get ready for their next classes. Inwardly Veneficus knew that this was a poor outcome of him losing control. Dumbledore getting involved was the last thing he desired. But, at the moment, it felt good to use even a tiny amount of the Dark Side for the first time in over a week.
Walking back up to the castle, listening to Draco and the other Slytherins muttering excitedly at how Veneficus had defended himself, the Sith Lord formulated an important plan. He desperately needed to find somewhere to continue his training in private, so he could more easily control himself when the other students were watching.
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Hermione had heard the most bewildering rumors throughout dinner, and she intended to prove to herself that the other Hogwarts students were just making things up about Harry because he was a Slytherin. Luckily, the Ravenclaws and Slytherins had History of Magic together that evening.
As she entered professor Binns' classroom, their only ghost professor, she saw Harry immediately, sitting amidst his usual group of Slytherins. As she started heading toward them, the other students grudgingly made room for her right next to Harry, on the far side from Draco Malfoy, who looked at her but said nothing. "Hullo Harry." She said, easing into the conversation.
Harry nodded at her, lost in a book that he had propped on the desk in front of him. Hermione noticed that it was their 'A History of Magic' book, and that the black haired boy was reading far ahead of where Binns was lecturing. She was impressed; to say the least, as most other students simply slept through the ghost teachers lessons, missing very important information that was sure to be on their exams.
"So, Harry…"She began during a lull in Binns' monologue, "I heard the funniest rumor at dinner. People are saying that you stole Neville's Rememberall and broke Ronald Weasley's nose…"
Malfoy snapped to full attention as he listened in on the conversation.
"And you don't know who to believe, so you decided to come straight to the source for the truth…" Harry finished for her, still reading. "How touching…"
There was something in the way he said it that sent small shivers down Hermione's spine, but she plunged on anyways, "Well, yes… I did…"
Harry didn't respond, turning the page of his book and continuing to study. Hermione was about to retort, but Binns had started another long-winded speech, and she bent to take notes. At the next available pause, she nudged Harry to indicate that she wasn't finished, "So… is it true?" she whispered.
"There's no need to whisper, Hermione." Harry replied nonchalantly, "Neither Binns nor the other students will hear us, they're all asleep or long dead…"
Hermione scowled, started to get frustrated now, "Harry James Potter you will tell me right now or…"
"Or what Hermione? You'll make me somehow?"
Draco was sniggering silently now behind his hand. Hermione fumed silently, but a thought struck her. Harry was refusing to say because he actually had actually done both the things the Gryffindor first years were claiming that he had. At the end of the lesson, she ran to catch up with Harry and Draco before they left the room, "Give it to me," she demanded, hands on her hips as she blocked the doorway.
Draco frowned, but Harry just stood there, a blank expression on his face, "Figured it out have you?" he said coolly.
"Yes, and I demand you to return Neville's Rememberall to me this instant!" she yelled at him, and the other students around them stopped to watch.
"I'm going to tell you this only once, Hermione…" Harry said, pointing one finger at her, "Unless Neville himself manages to take it back from me, and I highly doubt that will ever happen, that Rememberall is by all rights mine."
Hermione stood there, taken aback with what she heard, "But why? You don't even have any need for it!"
"As a lesson," Harry replied with a shrug. "The strong take what they want and the weak will lose everything unless they make themselves strong. It's the longest and most revered law of all creatures, and only humans have been foolish enough to delude themselves with the concept of equality and fairness, well I hate to break it to you, but life isn't fair. The sooner you children learn this, the better prepared for it you can hope to be…"
And with that he swept past her, Malfoy and the other Slytherins riding in his wake.
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Draco smirked as the group of Slytherin first years returned to the common room. "You showed that jumped up Mudblood Granger, Harry." He gloated, relishing in the previous class' events.
Harry said nothing, walking to the dormitory to stow his books and bag away before returning to the common room where Draco had pulled out a Wizards chess set. "Fancy a game Harry?" he asked casually. Harry was the only Slytherin that would play Draco and still posed a challenge, very often beating him with strategies that Draco had never seen coming.
"Not tonight, Draco." Harry said, making his way to the entrance to the common room.
"Hey, where're you going?" Draco called as the boy exited to the dungeon corridor. Harry either didn't answer, or hadn't heard Draco's call, as he continued around the corner and out of sight. Draco frowned, he didn't really like being left behind by anyone he was talking to, but he didn't have the willpower to try and follow Harry. There was some strangeness about him, like a similar aura of authority that Lucius had that prevented Draco from wanting to disobey, whether out of fear of consequences or a desire to please Harry, Draco didn't know.
None of the other Slytherins seemed to have noticed this effect Harry had on them, accepting him as a leader almost naturally. It was like they were under some sort of spell when he was in the room, but that was impossible… wasn't it? Draco decided to look it up in the library later, and trudged off to the dormitory, sitting on his bed in the currently empty room and closing the curtains around him.
Settling himself cross legged atop the green covers, Draco closed his eyes and cleared his mind of conscious thought. Normally this would be a very simple and routine exercise for Draco, but this wasn't the case today. His mind was far too full of the day's events to be able to banish all of his thoughts.
In response, Draco's mind dredged up the memory of Harry telling him about meditating and emotions. Draco hadn't really had any time recently to attempt to put the concept into practice, but now he was completely free for the evening, so… why not.
So, instead of trying to chase away the random thoughts floating in his subconscious, Draco instead observed each as it pasted in and out of focus, trying to feel out the emotions them, seeking for clues as to what power they could grant him. He did feel… something, like an odd warmth growing deep within himself… but Draco couldn't quite place it, and it left him as soon as he felt it. He attempted several more times, with each memory or thought that flowed through his mind, but he couldn't make any progress.
Finally, his concentration was broken completely when the other first year boys came noisily into the room, getting ready to go to bed. With a quiet, frustrated huff, Draco settled back himself, wondering what Harry's technique was that he had half hinted at possessing.
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Veneficus had started from the dungeons, looking for a secluded area for him to train away from the rest of the student body, but to no avail. The dungeons were simply too small and compact for anything more complicated than meditation, and he could do that easily anywhere. He was itching badly to continue work on his hybrid lightsaber form, and it drove him crazy to have had nearly three weeks without having done his physical training once.
So he proceeded upward, sticking to the shadows and easily avoiding the mangy caretaker and his cantankerous cat, as well as the patrolling prefects and other teachers, finding nothing secret or large enough on the ground, first, or second floors. On the third floor, he had the unfortunate fate to run into Peeves, the poltergeist of the castle, and had to use the Force to run at top speed away when the vile specter had raised an alarm as a prank on him. And because of this mistake, Veneficus found himself in the 'Forbidden' corridor of the castle.
And he found out why it was forbidden.
A great three-headed dog was hidden behind a pathetically locked door, which Veneficus had unlocked with magic from their charms textbook to hide himself from Filch, and the Sith Lord had barely enough time to fall back through the door before one of the dog's giant heads took a large snapping bite at where his torso had been moments earlier.
Flinging the door shut with the Force, Veneficus waved his want to re-lock the door magically, before standing and brushing dust from his robes. 'Stupid oversized things,' he thought bitterly. The billowing robes and cloak were so impractical he didn't see any reason that wizards bothered wearing them. Even the Sith robes he was rather fond of at least were cut and fitted to allow maximum movement instead of hindering it in favor of 'fashion.'
But at least he had something interesting to do now in addition to finding a place to train: discovering what that dog was guarding. He had clearly noticed the trapdoor the dog was standing upon just before having to dive out of the massive jaw's way.
'Well, at least it's something more interesting then classes…'
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Lord Millennial snapped out of his meditative trance just as his ship started its final descent to the former Dark Force temple of Dromund Kaas. As the autopilot charted a course to the roof of the temple where his fated duel with Darth Cognus had taken place, Millennial used the short range sensors to begin a sweep for sentient life forms, simultaneously reaching out with the Force as well, not fully trusting machines when his own power was capable of giving him the needed information.
He was pleased when both returned the same report. There were six beings still alive in and around the temple, although one was barely clinging to life. They were all Force sensitive, and had clearly sensed Millennial's arrival. One in fact was slowly approaching the top of the temple, probably to scout out the new arrival.
Millennial didn't feel that any of them would be threatening to him, the strongest being the one barely alive, so he simply clipped his lightsaber to his belt, and strode from his ship just as a large Zabrak emerged from the temple's turbolift to meet him.
Millennial merely lifted a hand, using the force the cause tiny particles implanted long ago in his hand to glow, forming the symbol of the Dark Force religion. It also marked him as Supreme Prophet of the Dark Side, and the Zabrak recognized it immediately, dropping to one knee. "Master…" he murmured. "I am Acolyte Slaar, Supreme Prophet, and I am at your service."
"Rise, Acolyte…" Millennial responded, eyeing the small brand placed at the back of the Iridonian's neck that marked him as the selected student of a Prophet of the Dark Side. "Lead me to the rest of the survivors."
"Yes, Supreme Prophet." The Acolyte replied, obeying immediately and leading Millennial down into the depths of the temple. Down the winding corridors of the abandoned temple the Iridonian led him in complete silence. It was not the Acolyte's place to question the Supreme Prophet, and therefore the trip was as short as possible. They finally arrived in the medical wing of the temple, the only part that looked like beings had attempted to repair the majority of it.
A trio of medical droids was hovering around the only occupant of the wing, a gravely wounded Dorian lying on the farthest bed. The masked alien turned his head as Millennial approached and Millennial recognized the wheezing voice of one of the High Prophets that had led the religion under him, Lath Dass'in.
"Supreme Prophet…" he rasped, holding one clawed hand toward the mutant, "I knew you'd return to us. I had foreseen it, my Lord…"
Millennial stood over the wounded Kel Dor, examining the readings that the med droids had collected. It was bad, the High Prophet had been badly burned, and there were several fractures and deep lacerations, presumably from lightsabers and other swords, if the patterns were any indication. None of these injures were fatal however, and the orange alien would recover, in time.
"What happened," Millennial demanded of the Acolyte, who had not left the room, but stood respectfully at the doorway. Slaar stepped forward quickly, "We were attacked by a splinter faction that had grown tired of the Dark Force's approach to the Dark Side. They were swayed by the power and majesty of the Sith Lord that had destroyed so many of us before you left. We were so greatly diminished in the conflict that the majority of remainder of the Order simply deserted us, leaving for regions unknown. Only the six of us remained here, faithful in the prophecies of your return from our High Prophet, my Lord."
Millennial nodded, thoughts swirling. There were six beings here, out of hundreds, still loyal to the Dark Force and by extension, him. It was more than he had expected, to be honest, "Who are the others?" he asked.
The Iridonian paused for a moment before speaking, "Twi'lek Prophet Lotu'an, three Neophytes, all humans… Srilis, Jenah and Kelrek are their names I believe, High Prophet Dass'in and myself, my Lord."
Millennial nodded, smiling inwardly, three humans, and Neophytes to boot. Lowest of the rankings of the order, they would do anything to please their Supreme Prophet, including accompanying him back to the backwater planet Earth for the duration of Veneficus' training. Millennial had no intentions of staying on the planet longer than necessary, and as soon as this Hogwarts had finished being useful to his apprentice, they would depart, taking all the wealth of their inherited families with them to add to the Sith coffers. The massive amounts of pure gold alone would substantially fuel the efforts of their cause.
"Very good, I thank you Acolyte." Millennial responded, dismissing the burly alien. Turning back to High Prophet Lath, Millennial spoke quickly, "Since my departure, I have been fully invested in furthering the work of the Dark Side, and since my ascension to Sith Master, I intend to merge the two Orders into a unified Dark Side society. As the chosen of the Force, I ordain you as Supreme Prophet of the Dark Side in my stead, and command you to bring the Prophets of the Dark Side back into power. You will have Prophet Lotu'an and Acolyte Slaar at your disposal. I require the services of your three human Neophytes, and will be taking them with me, along with two dozen droids. I also need to know if there have been any discoveries of artifacts from the old Sith Empire on this planet by the Dark Force in my absence."
The Supreme Prophet coughed loudly before answering shakily, "You shall have them my Lord… and the three Neophytes should be returning from an expedition to find lost artifacts shortly. Other than that, we have a small collection that you may look over."
"Very good Supreme Prophet, recover soon. We have no space for weakness in Dark Side. Soon the followers of the Dark Side of the Force will return to the glory of the ancients."
"Yes my Lord." The Kel Dorian replied, lying back to rest as Darth Millennial turned and left the medical chambers, Acolyte Slaar leading him to the vault of treasures that the Dark Force had found from the ruins on the planet. There they met Prophet Lotu'an, and Darth Millennial raised the Twi'lek Dark Jedi to the rank of High Prophet, to begin the reformation of the Dark Council of the Sith, and gave him orders to seek out more followers of the Dark Side who would join them to prepare in secret to crush the Jedi underfoot.
As he perused the recovered artifacts, Millennial was interrupted by the joyous shouts of the returning Neophytes, who entered the room, an actual Sith Holocron clutched in the male's hand. If Millennial had not already been of the mind to take the three with him, he would have greatly considered it as reward for this accomplishment alone.
The three Neophytes kneeled as the Dark Lord approached, and gingerly taking the Holocron from the leader's hand, he let the Dark Side flow over the black pyramid. It flared to life with red crackling electricity, fully functional and in working order. From the top of the small device, a tiny figure appeared, hooded and cloaked so that Millennial couldn't tell what species exactly the being was, but it was defiantly male from the voice.
"I am Darth Zeemar, Lord of the Sith and High Consular of the Sith Empire…"
The Dark Lord of the Sith actually smiled as he deactivated the recovered Holocron and explained his plans to the three eager Neophytes.
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Albus Dumbledore was worried. Something was definitely wrong with Harry Potter, and he needed to get to the bottom of what had gone so utterly wrong with his plan. The boy simply wasn't cooperating with what Albus had set in motion for him. The boy was supposed to come from an abusive family, attention starved and friendless, and enter their world with people like Hagrid and the Weasleys around him to steer him onto the correct path of thinking, but when Hagrid had gone to the Dursley residence to pick up Harry, the house had been deserted. It was later that Albus learned of the brutal tragedy that had befall the last of Harry's relations, and he had been forced to sent Severus, the only wizard he trusted that had a keen knowledge of the muggle world, to find the boy.
And he had, but the strangest thing was that Severus could not remember even the most minuscule detail of the encounter. Albus had checked over and over for any sort of magical means of shrouding the memories, but they simply were not there, as if they had been forcefully removed from the spy's mind. And what was worse, after that Harry had not met up with the Weasleys at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, but had arrived far earlier, and Ron Weasley had had no ability to befriend the boy before the Malfoy child had gotten his claws into him.
Now the boy was fully indoctrinated as a Slytherin, probably learning the pureblood philosophies even as Albus sat in his office at this moment, and there was little he could do to stop it. No one had ever successfully changed houses before in the history of Hogwarts. The Hat's decision was final, end of story. It was maddening; Albus mused, and almost like everything he had done came out with the opposite of the desired effect. Even now, the spell he had put on the youngest Weasley had broken, and a bitter rivalry had broken out between him and Harry, thereby severing the only possible link that Albus thought would work between the boy and the house of Godric.
Glancing at James Potter's invisibility cloak in his desk drawer, Albus remembered the Stone he had stashed down the Third Floor. It may as well be his only hope of turning Harry back to the Light, and thinking of the first obstacle, he had a very good idea how to start him on his way to figuring out his little test.
Standing, and shutting the drawer with the cloak in it, Albus decided he needed to pay a little visit to Hagrid, offering advice and 'entrusting' a few more secrets to the gamekeeper, the half giant had been the one to pull Harry from the wreckage of Godric's Hollow after all. He would love a chance to talk to Harry one on one for a while… and if recent newspapers were left where anyone could see, perhaps a certain three headed dog would come up in conversation…
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Veneficus raised one eyebrow at the note that his snowy owl, Traya, named after the Fallen Jedi turned Sith Lord that had trained Darth Revan, had brought him. It was an untidy scrawl from the Hogwarts Gamekeeper, Hagrid.
'Harry,
I knew your parents when you were just a baby, and as you've never really gotten the chance to hear about them, I was just wondering if you'd fancy coming and having a cup of tea with me sometime around three this afternoon.
Please sent a note back if you can come.
Hagrid, Hogwart's Gamekeeper.'
The difficult part was trying to decide if it was some kind of trick to lure him away from the school, or an honest attempt to get to know Veneficus… either way was bad for him, but if it was bait from persons unknown, then he had no choice but to act as an unsuspecting eleven year old, and not a wizened Sith.
So, he turned the note over and wrote, 'Yes, please. See you later.' On the back before returning the note to his owl, and the bird took off out the high windows of the Great Hall.
"What was that about?" Draco asked casually, as if it wasn't odd for Veneficus to receive mail, even though it was his first letter since he arrived.
"Nothing, just someone asking to meet me at three…" the Sith responded, returning to his meal. Zychre was off exploring the castle secretly, and Veneficus had ensured this by casting a spell he had learned from an advanced book, the Disillusionment charm, upon the little snake.
As they exited the Great Hall to head to their first classes, Veneficus was stopped by an angry Ronald Weasley, flanked by two other Gryffindor first years. "What, back for another broken nose, Weasley?" Draco said, smirking at the pink tinge that crept from the red head's ears. Veneficus said nothing, waiting to see how this turned out.
"I could've won if it was a fair fight…" Weasley said, balling his fists, but Veneficus could hear the tiny twinge of fear in his voice. "You and me Potter, tonight at midnight, wizards' duel in the trophy room…what, never heard of it before?"
Veneficus had read greatly about wizards and their flawed form of combat duels, and he had no intention of wasting his time to trounce Weasley again, but he had a small plan, "My second is Draco… who's yours?"
"Dean…" Weasley said, and the black boy at his side stepped forward. "See you there…" he continued, storming past them and knocking roughly into Draco's shoulder.
"What are you thinking?" Draco whined as they hurried to Defense Against the Dark Arts, which they had with the Hufflepuffs. "I know what I'm doing Draco, remember that." Veneficus snapped back, just as they entered the room, but he paused as pain shot through his scar.
"Harry, what…?" Draco started, but Veneficus hushed him, the pain gone as quickly as it started. The young Sith tugged the other Slytherin to the usual seats, mind reeling and pushing out with the Dark Side. Professor Quirrell had not bothered to turn around from spelling their lesson on the board. But, reaching out, Veneficus felt a sort of darkness surrounding the professor, not Force related, but magical in nature. Something tingled in the back of his mind, warning the Sith Lord that something about today, that the wizards called Halloween, was not going to have productive endings for him.
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Hermione had been looking forward to Charms class the entire day. Most of the rest of the Ravenclaws and Slytherins were as well, as they finally were going to attempt the Levitation Charm for the first time. Little professor Flitwick, Hermione's head of house, began the lesson by putting the class into pairs, one feather to practice on between them.
Unfortunately, said pairs tended to be inter-house, such as Flitwick putting Harry Potter with Terry Boot, and assigner Hermione with Draco Malfoy. 'Great,' Hermione thought as she moved to sit next to the arrogant blond boy.
"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too… Never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."
It was rather difficult, and many students were having great difficulty with the charm, despite their house traits. The first to actually accomplish it was Harry, who sent the feather zooming around the room, and earning Flitwick's approval and five points to Slytherin.
Draco looked extremely frustrated with his attempts with the charm, starting to thrash his wand instead of swishing. "Stop, stop, stop," Hermione pleaded, holding out a hand to stop his arm, "You're going to put someone's eye out. Besides your saying it wrong…" Draco's eyes flashed at her and he jerked away from her to avoid being touched. Hermione continued on anyways, "Its, Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long…"
"I don't need your help, but why don't you do it if you think you're so clever." Malfoy snarled back.
Hermione rolled up her sleeves, flicked her wand and intoned the incantation clearly and simply. Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.
"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "See here everyone, Miss Granger has done it as well…"
Draco put his head on his textbook and sulked for the rest of the lesson.
After the class, the Slytherin and Ravenclaw first years started to head down to the Halloween Feast. Hermione was just behind Harry and Draco, and unfortunately was privy to the blond complaints to his friend. "She's a nightmare, honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends, the jumped up little Mudblood…" Hermione never heard the rebuke from Harry, she had already sprinted away, banging into someone's shoulder as she sprinted for the nearest bathroom.
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Veneficus got shunted sideways for an instant as Hermione Granger shoved past him, clearly having heard Draco's rant. The Sith Lord seized the blond boy by the front of his robes and dragged him into a secluded hallway. Roughly handling him into a wall, Veneficus breathed angrily, "Now listen closely, Draco Malfoy. I have tolerated your prejudices long enough. Hermione Granger, despite her flaws, could be very useful. Someone capable of memorizing textbooks in mere weeks, I can definitely say you couldn't do better at research or studying. Insult her again, and I will be forced to take action."
Draco seemed to quail under the Sith Lord's anger. Darth Veneficus released him, straightening up and starting back toward the Great Hall, "Come Draco, the feast will start soon…"
A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling of the Great Hall while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start of term banquet. Veneficus huffed at the unnecessary amount of fanfare and garishness at such a poorly conceived holiday, but that didn't stop him from enjoying several of the special dishes that they normally didn't receive.
Sadly, the festivities didn't last long, as Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall a good fifteen minutes into the feast, turban askew and terror etched in his face. Veneficus looked on lazily as the awkward man stumbled up to the Headmaster's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll… in the dungeons… thought you ought to know."
And with that the man collapsed into a dead faint.
The students screamed and panic ensued. The young Sith apprentice sat calmly, actually choosing to continue his interrupted meal as several large firecrackers exploded from Dumbledore's wand.
"Prefects," the old wizard rumbled, silencing the last of the panicking students, "lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately!"
Veneficus rolled his eyes, it would be so much easier to just keep them in the Great Hall, but it was clearly some complicated rouse or something. The Sith apprentice didn't try to understand the old man's motives since meeting with Hagrid that afternoon. The giant oaf had almost blatantly spilled that the giant three headed dog was guarding something important to Dumbledore and some man named Nicholas Flamel.
The Lord of the Sith was returned from his thoughts by a Slytherin Prefect approaching, fully intent of forcing Veneficus to his feet. Leveling an icy gaze on the older boy, the Prefect halted mid-step, and continued right past, leaving Veneficus free to rise on his own.
Joining the crowd of Slytherin heading across the entrance hall to the stairway to their common room, Veneficus was soon joined at his side by Draco. "How could a troll get in?" Draco said concernedly, "Not on its own, clearly…" Veneficus responded, before realizing that Hermione was still somewhere near the Charms corridor, probably a girl's bathroom if anywhere. "Hermione…" he whispered. The potential of her assistance weighted against the urge to prevent attracting attention, and won. "Come on…" he ordered Draco, and together the pair of them, shrouded by the Dark Side to avoid being seen, sprinted up to the third floor.
With the aid of the Force, Veneficus located Hermione quickly, skirting around Professor Snape, who was seem running toward the forbidden corridor, but Veneficus ignored the ramifications for now, intent on at least informing Hermione of the danger and escaping before anything happened.
It was too late.
As they rounded the last corner to the girl's lavatory, Veneficus and Draco saw the troll entering the bathroom. "Excellent, we can trap it," Draco said quickly, stepping forward.
"No you fool, Hermione is in there." Veneficus snarled, just as the girl screamed from within. Not hesitating, forgetting the presence of Draco next to him, Veneficus pushed out with the Force, flinging the door to the bathroom inward and slamming them against their hinges.
The troll was large, nearly twelve feet, and granite gray in colour. Veneficus registered nothing else, expect that it had Hermione back up into a corner, and was raising its club to strike her dead. Summoning all his frustration and anger, the Dark Lord of the Sith raised both hands, yelling as he shot thin bolts of blue lightning at the troll.
Caught off guard, the troll howled, more in surprise than pain, as the electricity zipped and zinged off its skin, leaving small burns on its toughened hide. Hermione and Draco looked on, wide eyed in shock, as Veneficus switched tactics, snapping his wrist out and drawing his lightsaber.
With the traditional snap-hiss the crimson blade illuminated the room, casting everything into a red hue. The troll studied the weapon for a moment, before bellowing a challenge and swinging its club, intending to smash the small Sith Lord under its brute strength.
Dodging to the left, Veneficus avoided the crushing blow, scoring several light grazes on his foe's midsection and legs, but the gleaming energy blade couldn't penetrate the grayish hide of the troll. Howling in annoyance, the troll swept in a wide arc, knocking the Sith across the room. Veneficus landed heavily, shattering a sink and sending the porcelain scattering across the floor.
Hermione had fainted at this point, scared out of her mind, and Veneficus let the pain flow through his body, fueling the Dark Side and his rage at the hulking beast. Thrusting out both hands, he returned the favor the Troll had paid him, flinging the animal across the room with a powerful telekinetic blast. One giant dent in the wall later, and the troll was roaring in pain and surprise, losing its grip on its club as it struggled to remove itself from the stone wall.
Veneficus stood, pain shooting through his left ankle as he shuffled towards the struggling troll. Applying pressure with the Force, Veneficus pinned the troll against the wall, simultaneously summoning over the fallen club and smashing it repeatedly into its owner's head. The club broke after the fourth hit, splintering against the thick skull.
Snarling in irritation and pain, the Dark Lord gathered a massive amount of anger and hatred, squeezing on the windpipe of the huge creature. Gurgling, waving its arms in a dead panic, the troll grew sluggish, until with a small groan of escaping air, the troll went limp, dead from suffocation.
The heat of battle fading, Darth Veneficus noticed immediately the amount of pain he was in. Two ribs were fractured and his ankle was badly twisted. He had several lacerations on his body from the shattered porcelain, some rather deep, and the ringing in his head was becoming worrisome.
Sinking to his knees, unable to support his weight any longer, Veneficus allowed himself to grit his teeth against the pain. Draco sprinted over to support him, just as Professors McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell arrived.