Apologies on the delay, blame the website for being down rather than myself, but as soon as I could manage, here's the next chapter!
Chapter Forty Five
United by Hatred
Luna felt more than just the winter chill descend over the school with the beginning of December. The Daily Prophet reporter was continuing to print the Darkness' lies for the wizarding world, almost completely ignoring the Tournament and its events. And the whole of wizarding Britain was becoming consumed with the madness of speculation.
Currently the twin Darkness were shifting the world's focus onto Headmaster Dumbledore, and spraying bile and lies all over the man's reputation. As someone with power to look at the souls of her fellow wizards, Luna knew that Albus Dumbledore was anything but perfect, but he wasn't evil like the two beings of Darkness.
The evil power that the vile boy was using to beguile the school was starting to affect things on the grounds. Luna watched as perfectly healthy and strong plants were starting to wither and die, well above and beyond what winter was supposed to cause. It was starting to become unbearable for Luna to remain in the school for long periods of time, as the dark energy made her sick.
This reason was why Luna had already written to her father and requested to come home for the Christmas holiday, despite special events happening at Hogwarts for the Tournament. What she still feared was the looks that the Malfoy boy and the Darkness were giving her whenever they crossed in the school. It was almost like the two were planning something to do with her, and Luna was less than desirous to find out what.
At least a small pocket of the Gryffindors, primarily revolving around Ginny's youngest brother, were convinced about the Darkness and his taint that was spreading through the school, although they didn't believe everything that Luna was warning them about.
Even still, this didn't do much against the increasing nagging feeling that Luna had about the future, like something was about to turn terribly wrong very quickly. And whether she wanted it or not, Luna wasn't too sure she would be around for whatever happened. And given where the Darkness was leading their world, it wasn't going to be a good event.
Even in sleep Luna was unable to escape the Darkness, as her dreams were plagued with all sorts of nightmares. Cities burning across the sky as dark cloaked beings of all shapes and sizes fought with other beings with swords made of light. There was something also that was calling her. She kept envisioning a small female creature that looked rodent-like, but with a wisdom that spoke of long ages of experience.
But she still didn't know what it all meant. Who was this being, and why did Luna feel the urge to seek out her. Or was it all madness brought on by close contact to the Darkness? It was all so confusing.
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Zhar felt on edge as the red skinned Sith led him into the center of a large rural community. The place was almost blinding with the Light Side's influence. Dozens of the pure-blooded Sith were out working mundane jobs, living their boring lives. It sickened the Dark Jedi to see the once proud and powerful wielders of the Dark Side fruitlessly wasting their heritage and potential with the inferior Light.
"The Elders have likely sensed your presence a while ago," Zhar's guide said, pointing toward a larger, round building, "They'll be expecting you within there."
Zhar nodded in response, starting for the large building without another word to the Light sided being. At the least, he knew that so long as he didn't start any violence, no harm would come to him from these fools. As he approached the Elder's building, something did catch Zhar's eye. A small group of younger Sith, probably no older than twenty years at the eldest, were loitering around, openly glaring at him, yet none of them exuded the same Light energy that the adult Sith seemed to. If anything, they were gray, with neither light nor darkness being dominant.
Zhar lacked time to investigate these young Sith at the moment however, he could sense the Elders within the complex waiting for him. Entering the building, Zhar quickly found his way to a large central meeting room, where seven elders sat, cross legged, on low mats around the room.
The leader, a downright ancient looking male, looked at Zhar as he approached with pure red eyes. "What brings you in search of the Sorcerers of Tund, follower of the Dark Side?" he asked in a voice raspy with age.
Squaring his shoulders, Zhar spoke slowly, feeling all eyes in the room set directly upon him, judging him for his embracing the power of the Dark Side. "I came to seek out the last remnants of the powerful race of the Sith, and to rescue those of the Sorcerers from the oppressive dominance of the Jedi, who even now keep a station over your world, to prevent you or your teachings from leaving this place."
"And," one of the female elders spoke up, "why would you think that we would want to part from our agreement with the Jedi? Or that perhaps we weren't happy with our way of life, basking in the Light of the Force."
"But…" Zhar started, "Surely that cannot be true, you're people were masters of the Force, specializing in the power of the Dark Side, you cannot convince me that there is none who wouldn't want to feel that power flowing through them once again."
"Then you truly don't know our history, do you boy?" another elderly male said, "We are the exiles of the Sith, banished for abandoning the evils of our race when we saw the Dark Side destroying our beloved empire around us. And look what has occurred. Tell me dark one, do other Sith still roam the Galaxy? They do not, do they? Otherwise you would not have sought us out as you did for our wisdom and power with the Force."
"I…" Zhar started, trying to think of an argument, anything, that would allow him to continue to show why it was in these people's best interest to return to the old ways and join the new Sith Empire that was forming.
"No," the ancient leader cut him off, "We will hear no more of your words. Your beloved Dark Side has destroyed our people enough, and so long as we lead the Sorcerers of Tund, we will not bow to its oppressive yoke again. Please leave out village and world."
"But!" Zhar said, reeling. He couldn't fail here, not so soon.
"Another approached…" one of the elders said blandly, looking toward the entrance.
Zhar turned, freezing at the sight that met his eyes. A brown cloaked being was just entering the building. Zhar cursed the Light oriented aura of the planet once again, as it had masked the Jedi's approach from him perfectly.
As the Jedi entered, the Sorcerer Elders regarded him much the same as they had Zhar, "Welcome, Master Jedi, to what do we, the Sorcerers of Tund, owe this visit."
"It is not for you, nor any of your people that I have come," the Jedi said, drawing back his hood slowly, "but the pursuit of the Fallen Jedi Zhar Quelmok."
Zhar stiffened as he recognized the Weequay Council Member, Master Rar Lalsok. He was not ready to fight a true Master of the Weequay's caliber, less so one that had mastered all the known lightsaber forms.
"Zhar Quelmok," the Weequay started solemnly, unclipping his double bladed saber and stepping into a ready position for the powerful Juyo form, "In the name of the Jedi High Council and the Galactic Republic, you are under arrest. For your sake I ask you to come quietly, but I am prepared to strike you down if I must, for the safety of the Galaxy and as punishment for the Jedi you have slain."
Zhar hesitated for a faint moment, unsure if the Sorcerers would assist Master Lalsok or not, when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. "I am sorry to disappoint you Master," he said slowly, his hand moving toward his own saber, "but I do not have time for a trip back to Coruscant, least of all to the Jedi holding cells beneath the Temple… so I'll have to pass on your offer…"
Quickly, Zhar threw a blast of telekinesis at the Jedi Master, at the same time seizing his weapon and throwing the tool at the nearest wall. The orange blade sprung to life part way to its target, slicing into the power cell for the overhead lights that was there. The cell ruptured with a massive explosion, which shook the building and created a massive hole in the wall.
Aided by the Force, Zhar ran for the newly made exit, even as Master Lalsok's saber slashed the air he previously occupied. Leaping out into the streets of the settlement, Zhar momentarily wondered which way to run, when he spotted the same young Sith he had seen previously, beckoning him with the hands and running down a small side street.
Master Lalsok appeared in the hole Zhar had torn in the building, his own twin orange blades casting an eerie light in the stirred up smoke and dust.
There was little choice in the matter. Zhar took off, sprinting after the young Sith purebloods and away from the Jedi Master. "Wherever you run Zhar," the Weequays' voice rang from above as he ran, "I will be able to find you. Darkness will be no cloak from the power of the Light!"
Zhar continued to run, dashing past many a confused redskinned being. He didn't catch up to the young Sith that had fostered his freedom until he arrived at the settlements outer limits. There were just under a dozen younger Sith purebloods, ranging from early teenage to almost twenty in years, all sternly watching Zhar's every move.
"We know why you've come here, Darksider, as did the Elders long before you even saw the settlement." the leader, a male nearing in his late teens said, his stance aggressive and threatening. Despite the age gap, Zhar could see how this race became such a powerful empire on its own; the young specimen before him spoke of a natural grace and power that would only grow and bloom with age.
"We also know that the Elders had contacted the Jedi council once they sensed your presence, and sought to trap you to glean more favor with the Jedi." the leader continued.
"Yes," Zhar affirmed, "but then why did you betray your Elders and assist me?" he countered.
"Kodoil..." one of the older females said cautiously, touching the leader's arm.
"Umuvsa," Kodoil responded, taking the female's hand in his own, "We have little choice, we've defied the Elder's wishes now, in addition to practicing the Dark Side, we must go with him..."
Zhar raised an eyebrow, sweeping them all for signs of deceitfulness. "We do not lie," said one of the younger males, a lad barely into his teens, "time is short Darksider; if you have transport we need to make out way there before the Jedi discovers where we are.
Still wary of the group of ten Sith youths, Zhar nodded and led the way. Regardless of the circumstances, his mission was indeed a success. He had pureblood Sith to offer to the Empire, and from these the heritage of the Dark Side could flourish anew in their power. And while Zhar was one to look in a gift-nerf's mouth, it felt like the Force was manipulating circumstances in his favor once again in bringing these young Force users to him, and he was willing to accept that, for now.
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Veneficus was stopped on his way to the common room in the dungeons one evening in early December, as he passed Snape's office.
"Potter! A word inside if you please," the man said, a dark look gleaming in the man's eyes.
Anguis, Zabini, Colin and the small group of other Slytherins looked at Veneficus in confusion, both of what the reason for the delay was and what they were expected to do. A short wave of the hand banished them to proceed without the Sith Lord, and he turned to his Head of House obediently.
Snape held his office open for Veneficus to enter, and closed the door with a small bang as the Sith crossed the threshold. The Potions Master swept to his large teacher chair and sat, but made no motion for Veneficus to take a seat as well. "As you well know Mr. Potter," Snape began quickly, as thought Veneficus' very presence was something to be tolerating at best, not that the Sith Apprentice cared how the man felt about him, "the Yule Ball is quickly approaching toward the end of this month, and there will a dance for the school and our guests that evening."
"Yes, sir," Veneficus said, well aware of this information.
"Additionally," Snape continued, "the school champions are required to lead the first dance, as is tradition for the Tournament. Therefore, you are required to make absolutely certain that you have a date for that evening, to be your partner in opening the Ball appropriately."
"Of course, sir," Veneficus replied, with a small nod of his head.
"And Potter," Snape said, a scathing sneer on his face, "Be sure that your partner is a member of the opposite gender, it wouldn't do for the wizarding world to think any less of their boy hero..."
Veneficus smirked at the man and his foolish assumptions, "I had no intentions otherwise, Sir, and I wonder where you'd get such a presumption of myself..."
"I know everything that occurs in my house Potter," Snape replied, "and while I cannot demand you to behave in a method that complies with the wizarding world's policies, you will do so for this event."
Veneficus laughed quietly to himself, "I apologize, Sir, but you are greatly mistaken about my preferences and ambitions, but nevertheless you are entitled to believe however you will about me and my activities." the Sith could see the vein pulsating in the man's forehead, so he mollified his own expression, "But I understand your concerns and... requests... and will comply with them as you wish."
"See that you do..." Snape hissed, before dismissing Veneficus with a jerk of his head.
The Sith Lord departed, mentally scoffing at the Head of Slytherin's foolish mistake. Not only had the man revealed that he had spies in the Slytherin common room, which had poorly conveyed misinformation about Veneficus to the man, but he had also blatantly disclosed the fact that he, and by extension Dumbledore, were turning all eyes and ear upon him in places that were supposedly secluded or guarded from outside influences.
'Well,' the Sith thought, smirking, 'let the fools believe what they will regarding me.' Better to have a false image projected upon ones enemy, so that the true self can operate unhindered of scrutiny and possibly interference. Veneficus was tempted right then and there to offer Zabini the chance to attend the Ball with him, just to enforce the presumption that those spying on him had made, but he didn't want to encourage the boy more than he needed to be.
Regardless, there were some options to play with this development, plenty enough to shroud the real plan that Veneficus had for the Yuletide holiday.
Entering the common room, Veneficus glanced momentarily at the other Slytherins that he had been with, all waiting him expectantly for some sort of explanation. They'd have to wait for a while if they wanted such a thing, as Veneficus was not in a telling mood. Instead he went straight for his bag, seeking out parchment and a quill.
Seeking out a partner for the upcoming dance would be more than simple, as Miss Granger was sure to not be sought after immediately, so the Sith Lord penned a short invitation to go with him, and through the Force summoned his owl.
Traya, his owl named after the Dark Lady from ages past that sought the unthinkable route of destroying the Force, was indeed a brilliant companion for the Sith. The owls brilliant white and spotted plumage hid its true nature well, much as the Sith were striving for the last hundred years.
Once the note was sent away, along with the accompanying confused looks from the younger onlookers of Slytherin on just how an owl managed to get into the underground common room. But that was a secret for all the older Slytherin students to have, and the younger to learn through experience.
Over the course of the remaining few weeks of term, everyone who didn't know better pestered the Sith Lord about who he was bringing to the Yule Ball, including those girls such as Pansy Parkinson who still intensely disliked him. Veneficus took a small about of pleasure in calmly informing them all that he had a date for the event, but not divulging who the student was.
Regardless of the rumors and other things circulating the school, Veneficus kept mostly to himself. Aside from brief meetings with his close confederates, he spent the majority of his time out of the scrutiny of the school, lest anything be reported back to Dumbledore, and with this tricky operation he was planning, he wanted nothing left to chance.
Through his own spy, Creevey, Veneficus learned that the ever present nuisance Lovegood would not be remaining at the school for the event and holiday season. That combined with the goblins of Gringotts getting far too nosy into the Sith's identities and business for their own good, led to drastic measures needed to be taken to prevent their secret from being revealed before the Sith were ready for it.
It was a rare event that brought the two Sith Lords together for a common enemy these days, but when their identities were threatened, then these things were meant to be. So Veneficus was planning his escape from the castle when all attention would be focused inward, on the Yule Ball.
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Albus felt a growing uneasiness as the Yule Ball drew nearer. Whether it was in his mind or not however, he could not tell. For all appearances, the Tournament was proceeding as smoothly as could be expected. Snow was now falling thickly on the grounds outside, and their guests were, mostly, accepting of the hospitality that Hogwarts had offered, and were eagerly awaiting the festivities on Christmas.
Even Harry was well behaved, from the reports from Alastor. He had already requested for Miss Granger to be his partner for the dance, and was avidly studying out the clue to the egg for the next task daily. Then why did the great wizard feel so strange about the future? It made little sense, and bothered Albus greatly.
Was there something he was missing, some threat from Voldemort or Blackmoore that he was as of yet unaware of perhaps? With Lucius gone, most of the Death Eater's power had been broken, so there was little left to fear from them until Tom returned from hiding and managed to regain a body. So that could not be it.
It seemed as though there was something out, beyond their world, seeking to warn Albus of some growing evil, some new threat, but for the life of him he couldn't see it. Was his finally going mad in his old age?
A few days before Christmas, and the Yule Ball itself found Albus pacing his study, as he was oft to do in times like this, when he couldn't solve a puzzle. There was a great weight on his mind even now, like some foreign presence that clouded his mind and judgment.
"But what? What could it be?!" Albus suddenly said aloud, speaking to no one in particular.
"S…it…h…"
Albus froze, straining to hear whatever voice had just sounded, whether in his ear or in his mind he wasn't sure. It was a mild, feminine voice, and something quite unfamiliar to him.
"Who's there?" Albus said, trying to understand.
"The… Darkness… is from… a Sith… Lord…" the voice responded, choppy and faint, like it was being spoken from a long distance with many distortions in the way. But Albus recognized something, one word from the mass of confusion.
Sith…
It was the same as part of Trelawney's latest prophecy, something about the rising of a new Dark Lord that would call himself, Sith'ari. If the random voice he had just heard was to be trusted, that meant that the same mysterious Dark Lord he was forewarned of was also the same thing that was causing so much unease and tension in the castle for Albus. Perhaps he was indeed one of the few capable of stopping this Dark Wizard from rising to power, and… and…
Albus stopped in his own train of thought, a horrifying realization striking him. He had brought Alastor to Hogwarts specifically to watch for signs of darkness in Harry, and despite it all, the man with his magical eye had reported back nothing out of the ordinary, even with all that Albus had seen this year alone.
But… there was no reason that Alastor shouldn't have found something by now. Unless… Fate itself might be interfering with anyone being able to see the dark signs in Harry except for Albus himself. That would explain why there was no one, even Harry's closest friends, who noticed the almost gravitational pull that the boy exhibited on them, drawing those with insecurities to him like flies to a flame.
If that was the case, and the more he thought about it, the more it made sense to Albus, then he had two tasks of the Tournament left to uncover the truth and expose Blackmoore for what he was and Harry for what he was becoming. It was his duty as Headmaster of the school, and the defeater of a Dark Lord to protect the British Wizarding community from such threats, and he would do so.
He could start by finalizing the perfect choice for a hostage of the second task for Harry, one that he would sorely miss, and go through any route to rescue. Sighing as what felt like a weight was removed from his shoulders; Albus sat back at his desk to set the stage for his next attempt.
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Hermione woke early on Christmas Day, smiling at the small selection of gifts sent up from her parents, but more radiantly happy at the prospects of that evening, and going to the Yule Ball with Harry. No one suspected that she had been gifted with the boy's company for the event, and the looks on their faces when they saw her on his arm would be priceless.
Hermione had kept the note that Harry had sent to her the very evening that the Ball had been announced, humbly requesting the honor of escorting the most intelligent girl in the school, and that he hoped that they might be able to speak of some interesting things to come in the world while they danced. It was such a romantic gesture that Hermione couldn't help but eagerly respond to the offer before someone else tried to ask Harry to go in her place.
Even as she carefully opened the small stacks of books from her parents, and some sweets from friendly members of Ravenclaw, her mind was not on them, but looking forward to that evening. It made the rest of the day feel slow, as many of the students were enjoying the snow outside, or in the case of many of the younger years who couldn't attend the Ball, had gone home altogether. Harry, Draco and the other Slytherins that Hermione normally would have spent the time with were nowhere to be found, and Terence Boot was only useful when applied to speculating applications to projects created by those with more creativity than himself. Not that Hermione faulted the boy too much, each was set at their level, which was an advantage for Hermione, but the boy didn't seem terribly interested in progressing himself outside of his interests. There were a few times in fact that Hermione wondered why he chose to hang around with Harry and the rest of their group, but apparently the mysterious and brilliant boy had found a use for him that Hermione did not see.
Hermione spent the free time wandering the halls, briefly browsing the books her parents sent, some small novels that she had enjoyed when she was younger, and other recreational activities to relax her mind until the sun started to drop from the sky. The particular outfit that Hermione had specially ordered for this evening was quite unlike anything she had worn before in the wizarding world, and she wanted to make absolutely certain that everything looked just right for that evening.
Once she felt that everything was correct, she even had a few of the older Ravenclaws teach her a charm to make her hair lie flatter, she made her way down to the entrance hall, where Harry had said he would meet her in his note.
Looking down at the mass of students milling there when she arrived at the top of the grand stairs, Hermione noticed that many of the students were giving her double-takes as they passed. Watching the entrance to the dungeons, where she guessed the Slytherin common room was located; she watched a knot of Slytherin's appear.
Harry was easily recognizable out of the group, first by being the only one without a date on his arm, and secondly by the commanding aura of confidence that he seemed to have about him. The boy was dressed most handsomely in a steel gray robe, accented with a rich variety of purples and crimsons in varying hues. It almost looked like armor in the way he moved, with wide pauldrons over each shoulder and a cape instead of the customary cloak. He stood out to be sure, but in a way that wasn't an eyesore.
As she approached, Harry turned and locked eyes with Hermione, smiling approvingly of her choice of dress. Up close, there were even small details in his dress robes that made it special, like the strange silver cylinders that hung off his belt on both hips, decoratively constructed and almost appearing like the handles of swords, lacking only a pommel and cross guards.
"Like a shining knight almost," Hermione said playfully as she reached him, slightly adjusting the material of Harry's collar. It was unlike anything she had felt before, soft like cotton or silk, yet thicker than leather.
"A perfect match then," Harry replied smoothly, "A knight for a princess…"
She couldn't help herself, but giggled at the compliment. In truth she was feeling somewhat like a princess, enchanted castle and all tonight. Nearby, Draco appeared, Pansy Parkinson on his arm, and the normally smug and rather rude girl gaped openmouthed at Hermione. Inwardly, Hermione smiled at all the attention, knowing that many of these cutesy beauty obsessed girls were possibly starting to understand that intellect was more important to some boys.
Just then the heavy oak front doors to the Entrance Hall opened, and everyone turned to watch as the Durmstrang students entered the school, with Professor Karkaroff in the lead. Out in the front courtyard, Hermione could see that an area had been sectioned off and transformed into a sort of grotto full of fairy lights, including hundreds of live fairies fluttering around the conjured rose bushes and statues of Father Christmas and his reindeer.
From the doors to the Great Hall, Hermione heard the voice of Professor McGonagall, "Champions over here, please!"
The crowd parted as Harry led her toward the Transfiguration Professor, who was wearing dress robes of red tartan and had arranged a wreath of thistles around the brim of her hat. The French tart of a champion, Fleur Delacour was already there with the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, Roger Davis, who looked enchanted into being her partner.
Shortly later Krum appeared, looking sour despite the obviously excited fan girl on his arm. Each of the other champions eyed Harry in confusion, studying his dress robes up close, but otherwise saying nothing. Even the other students couldn't help but look at the pair of them as they filed past into the Great Hall, although Hermione wasn't sure who was looking at her and who was looking at Harry. Either way, the attention was well deserved, and she relished every drop.
Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall herded the six of them into a line to follow her inside. She spared Harry a fleeting glance, possibly confused at the boy's regal and yet odd dress choice, but regaining her composure instantly. They entered to the applause of the entire school, barring many Gryffindors that greatly disdained Harry for stupid inter-house rivalry reasons.
As they crossed the hall to the raised table where the judges from all three schools including the representatives from the Ministry waited, Hermione took the time to look around at all the decorations in the Hall. Hogwarts had really outdone itself this Christmas, with sprinkling silver frost covering the walls, and hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the ceiling, which was littered in starlight.
About a hundred small, circular tables littered the hall, where students and visitors were started to seat themselves. Professor Dumbledore looked as though something was greatly troubling him as the Champions and their partners took their seats, but Hermione's eyes were drawn away from the head table, toward one of the nearest of the small tables.
A man was seated there, wearing very simple formal robes, much like Professor Snape's normal teaching robes, but far more elegantly crafted. The man seemed to reek of a commanding power that was eerily familiar to her. "Harry," she commented as they took their seats and Dumbledore demonstrated how to order their meal from the kitchens through the enchanted menus, "isn't that your guardian?"
The boy glanced in the man's direction for a split second, before returning to his menu, "Yes, he's one of the School Governors, so he was invited to every Tournament event."
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Millennial could sense the brief wave of disdain from his apprentice at the Sith Lord's presence at this little event, but they had reasons for them both being present in this very place and time. Since the previous year, the goblins of the wizarding bank were growing far too nosy for their own good, and it was high time that those in charge of pushing into the Sith's private business be eliminated.
While Lord Millennial wasn't sure what Wild Force power allowed it, he knew that Veneficus had mastered the ability to be in multiple places at one time, so he was here to facilitate the boy's transport to the bank to execute their plan. Blood would flow this night, and none would ever be the wiser of who was behind it. Even if they boy made any mistakes, which Millennial felt would not be the case, they had more than adequate alibis being here at the Yule Ball of the Triwizard Tournament.
All the Sith Master had to do was wait, and hold off Dumbledore's inquisitive and persistent probing into their business if the old man came sniffing around while the plan was in motion.
Soon the meal was completed, and the old wizard requested all the guests to stand. Once they all complied, the man waved his little wand, and banished all the tables to the sides of the Hall, opening up the floor for the dance to commence. The champions took to the floor, and the odd looking band struck up a slow melody.
Millennial hung back from the main dance area, waiting for the right moment when his apprentice would contact him. Soon enough, just before the first dance ended, Millennial felt the tell-tale presence of Veneficus out in the garden area.
Excusing himself quickly, Lord Millennial exited to the open, moonlit area. As the first dance was still going on, and the students and staff were all there watching, Millennial knew that no others would be out in this section for the next few minutes.
"Master…" Veneficus said as he stepped out of the shadows, clad in the same outfit he was wearing inside, except that the illusions hiding the massive hood and other pouches containing artifacts of shrouding and Sith Lore were now visible. From an internal pocket, the boy drew forth an authentic Sith Mask from ages past, part of the horde of treasures that Millennial had first liberated from Dromund Kaas' temple ruins.
"You understand the parameters of your mission, my apprentice?" Millennial asked as he produced the Ministry made portkey that Millennial had requested. It would deposit the user just inside Diagon Alley, past the barrier behind the tavern. At this time of night and on this day, there should be no one to hinder the Sith Apprentice as he went on his assassination mission to the goblin's bank.
"I understand my Lord." Veneficus responded, placing the rune inscribed mask over his face and drawing the hood to cover the rest of his head. Millennial nodded, handing the item to his apprentice, and watching in interest as the boy removed a small golden hourglass from around his neck.
"Do what must be done Lord Veneficus," Millennial instructed in farewell, "do not hesitate, and show no mercy."
"There is no mercy…" the Sith apprentice replied, spinning the hourglass five times and vanishing in a small shimmer of golden light.
The boy safely away, Millennial turned back toward the castle and began to walk back inside. Before he entered however, another pair was exiting the castle, stealthily following a massive stream of children. "…don't see what there is to fuss about, Igor." Came the drawling voice of Severus Snape.
"Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening!" replied the anxious voice of the Durmstrang Headmaster, Karkaroff. "It's been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it…"
"Then flee," Snape cut the man off curtly. "Flee… I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."
Millennial hung back, watching the pair as they passed into the garden area. Snape seemed to be on the prowl for students acting on their juvenile hormones. With a flash, the dour man blasted one of the rosebushes, revealing a pair of students.
"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Fawcett!" Snape snarled at the passing girl. "And ten points from Hufflepuff too, Stebbins!" he added as a boy ran after her.
Snape turned to watch their pair reenter the castle, and spotted Millennial, freezing in place with a scowl. "Karkaroff, you had better return inside," he said, cutting off any protests that the man tried to come up with.
"Blackmoore…" the man said sarcastically once Karkaroff made his exit, and Millennial approached him.
"Snape," Millennial replied, smirking.
The man frowned, attempting to bypass Millennial and continue his rounds. Tapping into the Force, Millennial started to probe into the man's mind. The moment he brushed Snape's consciousness, the man reflexively threw up a powerful mental barrier that barred the Sith Lord from affecting the man's mind without using excessive force, which would destroy the man's mind undoubtedly.
"Not again," Snape snarled, "You won't affect my memories again that easily fraud…"
Millennial remained silent, the man's reaction telling him everything he needed to know. Even with the man's memories recovered neither he nor the Headmaster were any closer to actually stopping the Sith, or even so much as discovering their true intentions or plans.
"You have no idea what I'm capable of…" Millennial felt compelled to answer, before turning and leaving the man smoldering in the garden.
Back inside, the dance was still going on. Veneficus was there, dancing with his date, Miss. Granger. For a moment the Sith Master just observed with amusement as the boy danced in full Sith robes, Lightsabers on full display and ignored by the surrounding fools as mere decorations on an exotic looking set of robes.
Crouch Jr., still in his disguise was dancing across the floor as well, the witch he was partnered with taking great care to avoid the wooden leg. Dumbledore was waltzing with the massive Headmistress from Beauxbatons, making the strange mismatch of proportions seem graceful.
As there was plenty of time to kill before Veneficus returned, Millennial went for the nearest witch from the school, a stern looking woman in tartan robes and a standard black hat. "May I have the honor of this dance," Millennial asked, holding out a hand and bowing slightly. The woman blushed slightly, and accepted.
"Lord Blackmoore-Ravenclaw I presume," the woman said as they spun slowly across the floor.
"Indeed," Millennial responded, "and you are Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher, Head of Gryffindor, and one of Harry's favored teachers…"
"Ah, well, Harry is a very intelligent young man," Minerva said, smiling as he glanced over at Veneficus with his partner. "With the amount of studying he does in his spare time I couldn't expect anything less of him," Millennial commented, smirking.
The conversation continued, and Millennial only paid partial attention. Meanwhile he kept sweeping the area with the Force. Dumbledore was watching him with irritation, possible because of the closeness to one of his staff, but also possibly because of the faint aspects of truth that the man was gathering.
Before long the song ended, and Millennial bid Minerva McGonagall a good evening. As it was drawing close to the middle on the night, Millennial quickly found his apprentice, who was resting with Miss. Granger at one of the remaining tables off to the side of the dance floor.
"I'll bid you both a good night," Millennial said, secretly accepting the portkey that Veneficus passed to him.
"Good night sir," Granger responded, while Veneficus nodded.
Whatever else occurred this night, there was no doubt in Millennial's mind that anyone could connect the Sith Lords to what they would discover in the morning.