At long last! We've escaped the silly situation of over half my readers being unable to review even if they wanted to... Meaning I expect no excuses for this chapter, muahahaha... Seriously thought, I am please to say that I am actually ahead of my writing schedule now! setting a daily quota of pages typed really worked wonders for motivation! I now have fourteen days to type eight pages for the next chapter, plus any extra that happen to come with it, meaning, I can very easily get ahead of the current post chapter and be able to prep chapters far in advance! (this is a very good thing, as I will finally be able to focus on my other stories as well, book 6 of ANP has been suffering dismally in attention, and don't remind me about PoH...) adding to this that I will be out of town the next three days with nothing to entertain myself but writing, I stand a hefty chance of getting very much ahead! without further AN, please read, enjoy, and review!
Chapter Seventeen
Setting and Baiting
The end of term came with an unnatural amount of excitement and relief from the students. Hermione had quickly become the only female student in Ravenclaw tower and only one of a select two or three dozen that stayed behind school-wide. Gratefully, among those who were remaining at Hogwarts included both Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.
Normally, she would have spent her time in the library, catching up on various concepts and getting ahead in her classes, but instead Hermione needed to spy on Harry and Draco, the latter more so, to learn his mannerisms and routine. During the dueling club her summoning charm on his hair had been more than just a counter to his casting, although it had worked quite effectively for that and none were the wiser of her true plan for the strands of silvery blond hair, stored away in a spare vial and concealed in her robes.
Christmas finally came, dawning cold and very white across the grounds. Despite dreading what she was about to do later that day, Hermione didn't have any problems enjoying the presents from her family and friends, or the wonderful feast prepared for dinner in the evening.
The Great Hall was decorated splendidly, with a dozen frost-charmed trees and thick holly and mistletoe branches woven like streamers across the ceiling, with enchanted snow falling all around them, perfectly warm and dry of course. Everyone was fully into the spirit of the festivities, except apparently Harry. Hermione saw that he still sat at his usual spot at the far end of the Slytherin table, with Malfoy beside him, projecting a surreal blend of boredom and annoyance at all the revelry.
As she had predicted would occur, at the end of the feasting, both Slytherin both took their leave, Harry to retreat back down to the dungeons, and Malfoy to run an errand for the black haired boy, this time returning a book to the library. Lurking down the corridor from the library, Hermione waited for the boy to be returning from depositing the book. She had one shot at this. Having watched the two boys, she knew something was different about them. They reacted to events far too fast for things to just be coincidence, one of the many mysteries she hoped to uncover today.
Just as Draco passed by her hiding place, Hermione took aim, and apologizing mentally for what she was about to do, whispered, "Stupify."
The red light of her spell rushed out of the wand tip, on a straight course with the blonde's head, when suddenly, impossibly, he bent to the side at the last minute, only barely being grazed by her spell, which fortunately was enough. Hermione stood there shocked as Draco crumpled to the floor unconscious. There was no way he should have been able to hear her whisper or see the spell coming, yet he had anyway, nearly evaded it as well. Her whole plan would have been foiled, as she needed Draco out of the way for the next phase, so she was thankful for small miracles.
Dragging the boy's limp form into a spare cupboard, Hermione pour a tiny flask of sleeping potion into the boy's mount, rubbing his throat until he swallow reflexively. The potion would keep him asleep for around two hours, which was more than enough time for her to get her information and escape. Taking his shoes as well, Hermione hurried back to the second floor bathroom and her potion, bubbling slowly in the form of think mud.
It was as the book had described it should be, ready for the hair to specify whom she would change into. Drawing a full glass worth of the potion, Hermione took the hair she had claimed at the dueling club, and her hands trembling slightly, shook them from their vial into the glass.
The potion hissed loudly and frothed, turning a dirty sort of orange. Breathing rapidly, Hermione took her glass into the next stall over, where she had hidden Slytherin robes of roughly Draco's size, changed into them, and choked down the two large mouthfuls of potion.
Her skin began writhing immediately, and if not for the immense discomfort and pain she was feeling, Hermione would have found the sensations of her skin changing to match that of her sample fascinating. Her hair flattened, withdrawing into her scalp and bleaching to the platinum blond of the Slytherin boy. The worst part had to be when she felt herself swapping genders for the time she would be playing the part of a boy.
Feeling generally ill and uncertain about her new body, Hermione exited the stall, examining Draco's reflection in the mirror. Finding nothing amiss, she laced up the boy's shoes and made her way to for the dungeons, not knowing exactly where she was going but hoping that someone would be there for her to follow.
She never reached where the Slytherin common room was. After she descended the stairs to the dungeon corridors, she quickly encountered not only Percy Weasley, the Gryffindor prefect, but also Ravenclaw Penelope Clearwater, and only managed to escape when Harry himself turned up.
Taking her by the arm and steering Hermione away from the prefects, Harry said in an undertone, "Come Draco, we have some work to do,"
Smiling to herself, Hermione allowed Harry to lead her deeper into the dungeons, but was disappointed when their journey ended in an empty classroom rather than some hidden chamber or otherwise.
Entering the darkened room, Hermione was shocked when Harry suddenly slammed the door and locked it magically.
"What are you doing, Harry," she said, careful to mimic Malfoy's tones and facial expressions.
"You should be a bit more careful in your attempts at stealth and impersonation, Miss Granger…" Harry replied, his visage suddenly darkening like the room. Hermione took a step back reflexively. There was no way that the boy should have seen through her disguise that fast.
As if reading her mind, Harry smirked at her fright, "Oh yes Hermione, I did recognize the deception immediately. You again fail to rival me in yet another aspect of intellect. Did you honestly think I wouldn't recognize when Draco didn't return promptly from dropping that book? Or that when he did return, he would allow himself to be sidetracked by a pair of obsessive prefects that feel they have the right to slip off from their own duties to engage in petty ideas like love."
Harry was pacing now, and Hermione could almost feel the anger ebbing away as Harry calmed himself with great effort, "Naturally, you wanted answers, and I suppose since you've come up with a clever enough ploy to attempt to get what you desire I will humor you." Harry sat at a desk close to the back of the room, near the magically sealed door. "Ask your burning questions my dear, although I retain my right to refuse an answer if I feel the situation is beyond your need to know…"
Hermione swallowed, suddenly very fearful of the green eyed boy and his near madness with how swiftly his emotions swung from one end of the spectrum to the other. "I… er… well…" she stammered uncontrollably, and Harry clucked his tongue at her.
"Having shared classes with you Miss Granger I know you are capable of more articulation than that…" he chided.
Hermione bristled, irritated at the gab, before deciding to throw caution to the wind, and launched into the questions she wanted answered, "Fine Mr. Potter, I will ask, but I want the truth from you for once…"
"Granted however," Harry replied coolly, sitting like royalty despite his school robes and less than regal surroundings, "You are limited to only three questions. I have many things to do today, and time is short…" Hermione saw little choice in that request, and agreed before launching into her first and most pressing question.
"Are you, or are you not, behind the attacks on students and animal this year at Hogwarts School?" Hermione asked, striving to make sure she had as many bases covered to prevent the boy from replying with a half-truth, and conceal important parts of the answer she desired as she knew he may do just to irritate her.
"I am not." Harry said simply, before smiling.
Hermione nodded, grateful for the boy's honestly in flat out answering her, one question down; two left. "Do you then know who is behind these attacks?"
"I do not." He replied again.
Hermione thought hard, with one question left she needed something incredibly important to walk away from the dungeons with some measure of victory. Considering the boy before her, a thought struck her, a wonderful and quite perfect question she had always wondered from the moment she had met the boy.
"If you are not the so-called Heir of Slytherin, what are you then?" she requested, locking eyes with the black haired boy that had been the enigma of her time in the magical world.
"Well, well," Harry replied, shifting in his chair and leaning forward, "Now we have a question worth asking." He stood, pacing back and forth as he pondered Hermione's question.
Musing aloud, Harry said, more to himself than Hermione, "What am I? Far more difficult to answer than you would guess Miss Granger, for I am many things: a beginning, an end… The future, the past… Harmony, yet chaos… weakness, and yet power… I am death, but I am also life… a servant, but also a master… A craver… and an embodiment…" Turning to face Hermione, who was growing impatient as her hour limit grew near, he grinned, as though that was answer enough.
"You failed to answer my third question…" she huffed.
"Did I?" Harry replied, unlocking the door with his wand, "One would think your cold logic would have seen the truth behind my words. As far as I'm concerned, I answered your questions truthfully, and you need to leave soon, or you will be caught in a most conspicuous circumstance when Draco returns from where you have stunned him…"
Wide eyed at his knowledge of her plan, Hermione realized that he was right. She was starting to feel the potion wear off already. Bolting through the doorway, she sprinted back to the second floor bathroom, disappearing into the stall just as the potion wore off completely.
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Veneficus observed Hermione through the Force as she departed, grinning in satisfaction at her frustration and confusion at his final answer to her most probing answer. Let her stew over his riddle, she would never understand it in its fullness before the Sith were in power over this world anyway, so it was of little consequence.
With the free time he now had, unobstructed by his acolyte's presence, Veneficus had work to do. Another phase of the lunar cycle was upon them this night, and provided the Sith Lord with another wondrous opportunity to employ an adaptation of a wizarding ritual to further empower his connection to the Force.
With hours yet before the appointed time of complete darkness, and clad in his personal cloak of invisibility, Veneficus stole out of the Slytherin common room with what little supplies he needed. His destination was clear, the hidden room that was the place of his previous ritual, and would be further use for him to use in this one as well.
The path up to the seventh floor was so familiar and perfectly devoid of teachers, prefects and ghosts this night. The room itself brimming with energy, almost like a living creature greeting an old friend. Veneficus drank in the old magic and residual Force energy from the previous year, before setting to the preparation for that midnight's ritual.
Unlike the previous at midwinter, Veneficus had plenty of time to finish the preparations and center himself before the proper time. For the meantime until the darkest hour, the Sith Lord retrieved the little blank book that he had Anguis steal from Miss. Weasley for him.
The ancient diary seemed innocent enough as Veneficus turned it in his hands, the only information contained in it being the name of T. M. Riddle, a former owner most certainly. But there was something that the Sith couldn't place, some resonance within the Force that was yet a mystery to him. He felt as though there should be something that he recognized from the book, but it just wasn't.
The book had secrets, its magical aura indicated as much, but without some clue as to what powers they were, Veneficus was not foolish enough to blunder into whatever defenses it may have. The most conspicuous thing was the mild compulsion to write in the book that it innocently projected. The Sith Lord had no such inclination to operate the book himself however. Smiling to himself, Veneficus surmised that the best option at this point was to experiment with the book, and he had the perfect subject in mind to be his lab rat. But that was something to focus on at a later time.
Glancing at a clock the room had provided, Veneficus nodded as he recognized the few minutes he had left to get into position and begin the winter solstice ritual. Drawing on the fledgling knowledge that magic was merely a part of the Force, the Sith Lord sought to open his mind further to the blurring between the two, and magnify his understanding through this newest ritual.
To accomplish this, Veneficus had prepared a simple summoning circle with lines and incantations written in his own blood. Just as the clock sounded midnight, the Lord of the Sith began, blasting the painted runes with lightning, causing the blood to steam and energizing the circle with latent Force energy.
Veneficus began his chant, calling upon the raw power of the Dark Side to come to him via the circle, "Diena iv beze naktis, tikurzi jena'tes ari prie visa. Su tave jenga iv raganius ir tave xuontai iv tave tsis, nu visita tu'iea jenga kia nun dabar!"
The light of the room darkened immediately, casting long shadows from the handful of candles that Veneficus had prepared as part of the ritual. The Dark Side was thick in the room, and the Sith Lord smiled as he felt its warmth as it recognized one of its own.
"Jen' iv naktis apklot nun kuris tariam buti tu'iea meistras. Vada nuyak jenga nuyak dvasi nuyak ty, anas nu galez buti zeprie jorath kad tave jena'tes!" He called to the darkness, requesting power and insight. The Force reacted, billowing and surrounding Veneficus like a cloak, granting its power to him, with promises of victory and dominion in exchange for sacrifice. A Sith was willing to pay any price for the power the Dark Side offered, and Lord Veneficus was no different. But his sacrifice would be in the blood of the Jedi and their vaunted Republic.
Insight swarmed into his mind, graying the lines between magic and the Force, and for the first time, he saw. Magic, the Force, all one and the same, almost a variation of the opposing yet balanced sides of light and darkness. The Force as they knew it, Cosmic and Living, were ordered, with laws and predictability cemented into every particle of the universe. Magic, by contrast, was in chaos, wild and unordered, acting as if by random chance, obeying laws one second and ignoring them the next. Harmony and chaos intertwined within, seamlessly holding the fabric of all things together. It was beautiful, in fact the only thing of beauty that a Sith would appreciate.
"Naktis iv jena'tes, jenga iv tave Qyâsik…" Veneficus declared, raising his arms to the sky, "…aukoti nun pergaleas kia anuloti visa th'laikas!"
The darkness sang at the recognition and praise it was given by a Sith Lord, and suddenly Veneficus was gifted with a vision of the future. His consciousness soared over the grounds of the castle, out into the dark forest that contained all manner of magical creatures. Something called to him there, answers he felt that were needed. He could see the location, a hollow filled with webs, but beyond that he was left to his own devices.
The vision ended, and Veneficus felt the magnificence of the Dark Side depart with the return of the daylight. Things were about to be put into motion, and if Veneficus' feelings were sound, they would lead to the end of all the mystery of this so called Heir of Slytherin.
Gathering his things as he prepared to depart back to the common room, Veneficus paused as he picked up the diary once again. Pondering, he pocketed it inside his robes. Lord Millennial would approve of his choice of action, in putting many plans into motion at once. The only potential flaw in the plan, was whether anything in the diary managed to kill Gilderoy Lockhart before Veneficus saw what it was capable of.
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It had taken several weeks longer than Septin would have liked for the Tiss'shar rebels to organize their forces to infiltrate the palace, but at last it was time. He and Zhar were to be led in through the secret passages under the city, to a place where they could ambush the Emperor as he fled the shortly to occur uprising that would enter the main courtyards.
It was a simple plan, with little in the way to become snags, except for the fact that there were Jedi on the planet now, assisting the royals in settling disputes and quelling violent uprisings. Hopefully, they would be kept occupied, in their glorified nature as peacekeepers, with the riot at the front, and therefore be unaware of the infiltration.
Septin stumbled in his attempts to keep up with Zhar and Swen-Kek-Hess, who was their guide through the tunnels of the city. The pair of Darksiders had learned that the albino Isk-ar subspecies of Tiss'shar had once been great advisors and magicians of the royals, but when the world had been introduced to the Republic and its regulations, the ruling monarchs had disbanded their advisors in favor of adopting Republic regulations and legislators.
It was that removal of traditional Tiss'shar values Swen-Kek-Hess had said, that led to the corrupt oppression of the lesser castes of loyal Tiss'shar. The Isk-ar had therefore, for the greater good of their planet, taken up the cause of the people to fight against corruption, removing the Republic influences and the royals who were so quick to abandon their people and their heritage.
Idealist as it sounded, Septin couldn't shake the feeling that it was a smokescreen for a simple power grab and political overthrow, exchanging one corrupt dictator for another, but that seemed to be what Lord Millennial wanted, so Septin held his peace.
His thoughts were interrupted as their group arrived in a large room that formed an intersection with several different tunnels, and their guide turned to the two Force users, "Here is where we will wait for the Emperor and his guards," Swen-Kek-Hess stated flatly, turning to consult a datapad and communicate their readiness to the group preparing to assault the palace from the front.
In only a few short hours they started to hear the sounds of explosions from far above, and feel the ground shake as the palace fell under attack. Zhar turned to Septin, and gave him a look that indicated that he expected no hesitations with what they were about to encounter. Septin nodded in response.
They didn't have much longer to wait before voices were heard coming down the tunnel from the direction of the upper levels. "Your Majesty this way!" a distinctly human voice said. Zhar and Septin looked at each other as they removed their lightsabers from their belts. It seemed that they Jedi had not chosen to help diffuse the conflict at the palace front after all.
Swen-Kek-Hess slipped into the shadows, signaling that he was going to summon backup, while Zhar and Septin waiting in the open for the Emperor and his Jedi bodyguards to round the bend in the passageway and enter the room.
The moment the group of Jedi spotted Zhar and Septin they skidded to a halt, sabers activating and brought into ready positions on instinct. Septin was moderately fazed by the four separate Saberstaffs glowing in the gloom of the dimly lit passage, but followed Zhar's lead and ignited his own in response.
"Zhar Quelmok," the leader, a male Miraluka with a band of cloth covering where eyes would be on a human, declared as he advanced, his emerald saber aloft, "I thought I sensed something more sinister at work here."
"Good to see you too Ferros…" Zhar responded lazily, before glancing at the other three Jedi and smirking, "Shadows now eh… The council must be getting desperate if they're sending the 'elite' after me…"
"Ferros, the Emperor!" the female human called, whirling and spinning her violet weapon over her head as rebel Tiss'shar poured in from every direction, shouting and hissing, waving blasters and vibroblades over their heads. Emperor Trax-Nal-Rathan drew his own blade, preparing to defend himself as the Jedi closed ranks around him.
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Darth Millennial had become quite at home in the corridors of the Ministry of Magic, moving through the bustle of wizarding government with a grace and ease that garnered the attraction of many curious onlookers.
The Sith Lord allowed this, the guise of Alexandre Blackmoore allowing the Sith to be perfectly comfortable with the scrutiny of the masses. Despite his current lack of publicity, mainly due to Lucius cancelling his formal Yule gala, the stated reason being that he could not find cheer with the vicious attacks going on at Hogwarts, Millennial was still the subject of wizarding attention and speculation.
Approaching the elevators to descend down for another meeting of the Board of Governors, Millennial felt a presence approach him, and turned to greet a elderly man who gave the impression of a stiff rigid rule keeper. Millennial felt immediately wary of the man's scrutiny, but nodded at the man as he joined the Sith Lord in the elevator.
Offering his hand, the man introduced himself, "Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of Magical Cooperation,"
Taking the offered hand, Millennial responded in kind, "Alexandre Blackmoore, Board of Hogwarts Governors."
"Naturally, nearly everyone in the wizarding world has heard about that," Crouch said stiffly, nodding, "among other things. The guardian for the boy-who-lived… the rumors around that are astounding."
Millennial decided to take advantage of the man's seeming wariness and skimmed the surface thoughts that Crouch was thinking. It was child's play. The man was greatly concerned with Millennial's connections with Lucius Malfoy, as he hated the man with a passion, and was therefore hoping to potentially win an ally to help uncover secrets that would destroy Lucius' reputation, removing him from the Ministry.
The elevator arrived at the Sith Lord's intended destination, and as he strode forward, Crouch spoke again, "Perhaps it would be beneficial to us both if we were to meet again, perhaps over tea, and acquaint ourselves more with several circumstances that are occurring at the school in the near future."
Millennial turned, smiling at the man, "I would be delighted to. I'll await your owl for a date and time."
The doors shut, barring Crouch from seeing the steely glint in the eyes of the Dark Lord of the Sith. The mutant wasn't certain what, but the force was giving him a good feeling over this choice occurrence. He would make time to meet with Crouch, and see what the Dark Side had in store for him.
Returning to the task that had brought him to the Ministry in the first place, Millennial's thoughts fell upon Lucius, who had summoned this current meeting of the Board to discuss the tragic events of the repeated attacks at Hogwarts, and whether the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was doing everything in his power to bring them to an end.
The Lord of the Sith saw the ploy for what it was. Lucius had a grudge against the aged wizard, and while Millennial didn't disapprove of such manner of manipulation, he would prefer to have avoided directly meeting the man for as long as possible. Millennial knew that it would only be a matter of time before Dumbledore would riddle out his intentions with Veneficus, and he wanted his apprentice to have as much time to take the secrets of the Wild Force as possible before confrontation occurred.
However, Lucius was going to play his game, and Millennial his. Over this contested point they differed, but as of yet removing Malfoy from the game board was an unwise decision. Therefore, like all masters of Dejarik, Millennial was willing to alter his strategy midgame to achieve ultimate victory.
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Zhar's smile widened as he felt the unease surge from the four Jedi as the twenty or so rebel fighters surged on them from all sides. The many commoners didn't have any combat proficiency, and were mainly fodder, being cut down easily by the whirling energy blades. Only the handful of Isk-ar among the group stood any chance for holding off the Jedi and Emperor.
Zhar knew that they needed to separate the group of Jedi if they were to dispatch them. Having known Ferros Oduro since he was a youngling, Zhar had a clear understanding of how the group of Shadows would work together, each seamlessly covering the weaknesses of the others.
Glancing quickly at the walls to either side of the Jedi, Zhar spotted supports bolted to the walls, keeping the stone ceiling stable. As the Jedi were preoccupied, Zhar threw his saber at the nearest support, slicing it cleanly. Just as his weapon returned to his hand, the sound of grinding metal and stone was heard as the ceiling started to cave in.
"Move!" Ferros yelled, siezing the Emperor and throwing the pair of them aside as rubble crashed down, crushing several rebels and at least one of the Jedi, a female Zabrak Zhar did not know. It also effectively barricaded Ferros from the rest of his team, leaving them to the remainder of the resistance.
Swen-Kek-Hess looked delighted at the situation, having only the Emperor and a lone Jedi against them. Bellowing a war cry, the pale Tiss'shar charged the much larger Trax-Nal-Rathan, blades clashing violently and sparks flying off the metal. Ferros tried to intervene, but Zhar leapt at him, forcing the Miraluka onto the defensive.
He remembered Ferros' style, and to the blind humanoid's credit he was very creative with his saber work, but training with the Sith on Dromund Kaas had given Zhar plenty of experience with combating the Seventh style, Juyo.
Septin jumped in as well, and while his attacks were far less refined than the other combatants, Zhar found it relatively easy to work the boy's strikes to his advantage, twisting and counterattacking to offset the advantage Ferros had with his superior weapon.
They didn't need to kill the Miraluka, but for Zhar that would be a bonus. He had disliked Ferros from the moment he had met him. But the Emperor was still the priority. Glancing to the battling Tiss'shar momentarily, Zhar saw that Swen-Kek-Hess was still struggling to overpower the much larger and stronger Ask-ar, and both were sporting several nasty wounds.
The momentary lapse of attention was, unfortunately, all that Ferros needed to bat Septin aside and revert to the offensive. Ducking and dodging the deadly whirling energy blades, Zhar knew he had to end this fight soon if they were going to manage to kill the Emperor and escape alive.
Switching tactics, Zhar batted the next strike away with his orange blade, repositioning to counterattack. But the Miraluka's weapon and style didn't permit Zhar from more than glancing blows as he struggled to push the Jedi away from the battling Tiss'shar.
"You know you cannot defeat me Zhar." Ferros said calmly, "How many hundreds of time have we sparred and fought over the years? Yet you've just never quite had the skill to match me…"
Responding to the taunt, as he knew the Miraluka wanted him to, Zhar lashed out with the Dark Side, currents of lightning zipping and zinging off the walls and the Jedi's emerald blades. But Ferros was not Zhar's intended target, as the weakened wall behind him cracked and began to crumble from the added pressure.
A howl of agony and roar of triumph echoes around the room, and Zhar didn't need to look back to see that the Emperor had fallen to Swen-Kek-Hess. Striking quickly, Zhar continued the battle with his long time rival, pushing the Miraluka closer and closer to the weakened wall, until finally, feigning an attack and instead throwing a powerful blast of the Force at him, blasted Ferros into the already damaged structure, which collapsed around him. The rubble would be the Jedi's tomb.
Swen-Kek-Hess retuned to them both, battered and bleeding, but already celebrating his victory, "Soon my allies," he said toothily, as he directed them back to the surface, "We shall celebrate in the Emperor's own throne room, as my reign begins, and the traditions of the Tiss'shar return to our world."
Somehow, the thought of the Sith aiding in a coup for just a transition of Imperial rulers didn't sound to Zhar like what their mission was. Adding to that that everything seemed to go all too smoothly for their end of the mission, the Force seemed to be warning him that the Isk-ar was no longer their real ally.
Looking at Septin, who seemed to be feeling the same about their old friend, Zhar felt little remorse removing the pale lizard's head from the rest of his body. Sheathing their weapons, Zhar started for the city exit, dodging out of sight when bands of soldiers and rebels clashed here and there along the streets.
Let the peoples of Tiss'shar suffer the chaos of anarchy for a time, the Sith's plan for a more liberal world had been achieved. Zhar could only guess that with any ties to royalty and the old empire gone, that Leh-Ses-Harc, or one of the other economic leaders, would make a move in the power vacuum, fulfilling Darth Millennial's vision for this world's more, understanding, future.
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Anguis' memory was foggy about the evening after the Yule feast, but he remembered that he was returning a book for his master, before the Force had blared out a warning, causing him to spin around and blackness had consumed him. Hours later he had awoken in a daze, found his shoes of all things outside the closet he was stuck in, and staggered back to the common room. Luckily, and unluckily Veneficus had not been there when he arrived, the former so that Anguis would not have to be punished and the latter as he would not have any answers to what might have happened.
Anguis assumed that his master was off on some errand of his own, and would return soon, but he hadn't. Veneficus hadn't reappeared until breakfast the next day, looking very satisfied about something he didn't completely share with his apprentice.
Anguis had tried to breach the subject of where his master had been, but Veneficus had somehow steered the conversation to the Forbidden forest, and what magical creatures dwelled inside. Anguis had confusedly reported all that he knew lived there, werewolves unicorns, thestrals, hippogriffs and other various and dangerous wildlife, but once again the Sith Lord would not explain his line of thought. It continued like this for the rest of the holiday, Anguis growing more and more frustrated to be left pitifully out of the loop of the Sith's designs.
Back again in the, accursed in Anguis' opinion, Defense against the Dark Arts class, he and Veneficus remained at the very rear of the classroom while the idiot Lockhart continued to make a fool of himself, even if none of the other children had eyes to see it. Glancing sideways at his master, Anguis could see the wicked smile that accompanied the Sith's focused watching of the joke of a professor.
Anguis couldn't have been gladder when the class ended. Turning to leave, he noticed however that his master hadn't budged from his seat.
"Professor," he called, attracting Lockhart's attention.
"Oh Harry, hadn't you and Mr. Malfoy be getting on to your next class?" the professor replied, smirking in his same self-satisfied way that made Anguis want to rip out his own eyes.
"Of course profess, I just wanted to give you something before we go," Veneficus replied. Both Anguis and Lockhart were immediately interested as the Sith Lord removed a tiny black book from his pack. Anguis recognized it immediately as the same book he had stolen from the Weasley girl. Questions plagued him, but a pointed glare from his master silenced even the thought of asking with Lockhart right in front of them.
"Oh, Harry… Harry, Harry," Lockhart said, shaking his head in false modesty, "You shouldn't have, had I only known you were one of my fans; I would've gotten you a autograph much earlier than now."
"Well, Sir, you know how it is between us celebrities," Veneficus replied, smiling in a knowing sort of way, "We can't really show our true feelings sometimes, people might not… understand."
"Of course!" Lockhart agreed immediately, taking the small book while flashing a disgustingly huge smile at them both. Flipping through the book's blank pages, Lockhart looked mildly confused.
"It's a thought journal," Veneficus supplied quickly before Lockhart tried to ask, "It helps with creativity when you write ideas into it. I figured it would help you when you choose to write your next book sir."
"How thoughtful, thank you Harry," Lockhart replied, pocketing the book and waving them out with a flourish, "I'll make great use of this, mark my words. Now I really think it's time for you two to be off to your next class, wouldn't want to keep your other professors waiting."
"Of course Sir," Veneficus replied as, once they were out of the room, the man shut his classroom door in their faces.
Walking away with a grin that sent chills down Anguis spine, the Lord of the Sith turned to him, "Yes Anguis, you expect answers as to why I gave the fool the same said book you retrieved for me…"
"I would like to be more aware of how best to help you," Anguis replied, knowing that to say the wrong thing now might not be the wisest action. Veneficus smirked at his response.
"Very well," he said, as they rounded a corner and started down the stairs to the dungeons, "My theory, and you might have seen it as well, is that the book has something strongly to do with the attacks. You've naturally noticed that while in our possession nothing whatsoever occurred. I am performing a controlled experiment, to see what that book is capable of, and what better test subject than a waste of space."
"And, if this experiment yields nothing of value?" Anguis asked, as they reached the Entrance Hall.
"I have, other… avenues to explore for answers," Veneficus said mysteriously, and Anguis was forced to withhold himself from rolling his eyes. how could he have figured that his master would ever tell him everything he wanted to know.
As if reading his thoughts, Veneficus continued, "If and when the information become pertinent for you to know, I will tell you. Until such a time, you have little choice other than to trust my wisdom."
Anguis nodded, understanding the conversation ended as they arrived at the potion's classroom, just as Professor Snape opened the door to admit the gather Gryffindor and Slytherin class.
Anguis knew that there were things he should know that his master wasn't telling him; things that might have made a difference if Anguis knew. But naturally, as was wont in their relationship of master and apprentice, he was not given much choice in things, but was merely commanded to obey.
Diena iv beze naktis, tikurzi jena'tes ari prie visa. : Day of most night, where darkness lords over all.
Su tave jenga iv raganius ir tave xuontai iv tave tsis, nu visita tu'iea jenga kia nun dabar! With the might of sorcery and the command of the Sith, I call your might to me now!
Jen' iv naktis apklot nun kuris tariam buti tu'iea meistras. Dark of night cover me who would be your master.
Vada nuyak jenga nuyak dvasi nuyak ty, anas nu galez buti zeprie jorath kad tave jena'tes! Increase my might my mind my strength that I may be under none but the darkness
Naktis iv jena'tes, jenga iv tave Qyâsik, aukoti nun pergaleas kia anuloti visa th'laikas!" Night of darkness, might of the force, give me victory to defeat all enemies!