Greetings once again, readers. Neolyph here with Chapter 20 of A Broken Wizard and a Broken Magus. It's nice to be back and writing again. I've finally gotten over my last bout of depression and am ready to continue this story in earnest. Great response last chapter, as always. Once again, I thank all of you who read, review, follow, and favorite. Whenever I'm feeling down, knowing that over 1000 people think what I write is worth reading really cheers me up, so thank you all.
Review response time!
Squadpunk 2.0: The name does have significance. Also, Harry is going to find some creative uses for magecraft once he has to sate an entire harem.
Raidentensho: The stone will be used to give life to something. I'll let you guess.
harlequin320: How long until Saber joins her fellow Servants?
Bonestar: Harry finds Hagrid to be a fairly honest and pleasant person, and understands that the man has a legitimate reason to be loyal to Dumbledore. He'll help Hagrid out if he has a personal reason, even if that's only because the man's an easy source of information.
The Last of the order of 100: The outcome of the Malfoy/Black/Potter meeting will be shown soon. The name change was intentional and had significance.
Chapter 20: Troll Attack
"-the Magus' Stone"
Harry blinked, read the passage again, blinked once more, and put the book down. His mind was racing at the implications of this. Was it perhaps a misnomer? Wizards and Magi did often use the same terminology with different implications after all. For example, to Magi the term "witch" was used to describe female magi who practiced sympathetic magic and spiritual evocation. Wizards used the same term to describe any female magic user.
He would be entirely willing to go with this theory if this stone wasn't so damn indecipherable.
His analysis of the stone heavily reminded him of certain aspects used in homunculus creation and jewelcraft. Wizards lacked an equivalent concept for either practice, which made him doubt that the stone was the work of wizards. The only real flaw with the theory was that there were no magi in this universe. To his knowledge, at least, at that wasn't saying much. Competent Magi were as discreet as they came, and could easily blend in any kind of society provided they had the time necessary. But still, there shouldn't be any Magi in this universe, two hidden societies centered around performing supernatural acts using arts not known to mankind at large couldn't have developed in parallel without knowledge from each other.
Unless...
He was seriously going to kill Zelretch.
This wasn't something he could tolerate. If a magus was in this world, he'd have to be dealt with. If word of magecraft was given to the wizards, it could horribly ruin his plans. He needed to find this Flamel and silence him. One way or another. Not to mention the consequences of sharing magecraft with wizard. He shuddered at what they might do with the True Magics. They might seriously endanger the Statute of Secrecy.
Regardless, that was a problem for another night. Now that he had a name for the object, he returned Dumbledore's wand to Assassin and ordered her to put it back where she'd found it.
Looking at the book's description of the Magus' Stone, it became obvious that the wizards had no idea how it functioned, but Harry didn't really expect them to. Not only was the stone created with an entirely alien magical system, but no self-respecting magus would let information like that slip without receiving some massive benefit in return. Especially for something like the stone, if it could confuse even Caster, a Magi from the Age of the Gods, it clearly wasn't your average Mystic Code.
Which really begged the question of how Dumbledore even got him wrinkly hands on the stone?
He reached over and picked up the offending object, turning it over in his hand. It practically thrummed with magical energy as it glowed a blood red.
As he felt Panzer react to the presence of foreign energy, a thought occurred to him.
When he'd first designed his armor, one of the functions he'd programmed in was the analysis and assimilation of foreign materials. He designed it to essentially absorb hostile magic and provide readouts on its nature, but it worked with physical matter as well. Granted, he had only tested said function on gems he had stolen from Rin, but it had worked.
He wondered...
Standing, he activated Panzer's autonomous protocols. The silvery metal flowed off his body and formed into a duplicate of Lord Waver Velvet's Volumen Hydragyrum. If what he was about to do went wrong, he didn't want to be wearing the intelligent armor. The metal maid stood staring at him blankly, awaiting input. He picked up the stone, looked it over for a moment, and shoved it into the center of Panzer's chest. The metal rippled as he plunged his hand in, but otherwise there was no reaction.
"Panzer," he ordered, "attempt analysis of internal foreign material."
"Understood. Initiating analysis," it replied in a bland mechanical voice.
Several moments passed before the armor spoke again.
"Surface analysis failed. Initiate assimilation and analysis?" it queried.
Harry thought for a moment. If his armor assimilated the stone, it might be destroyed or it might gain some qualities. He could always make another set of armor, even if it would be a pain. The only downside would be the loss of the stone, but that was of little consequence so long as he gained an understanding of it. Once he understood it, he should theoretically be able to make his own.
"Affirmative. Execute assimilation and analysis."
This time, there was a reaction. Panzer's metal form began glowing an eerie red as it attempted to break the stone down to its base components and absorb them. The metal began to bubble and spasm, making Harry very glad that he'd opted to take the armor off before attempting this.
The frenzied reaction his armor was undergoing made Harry worry that he was going to lose it as the reaction seemed to be getting exponentially worse before suddenly the light died down and Panzer retracted back into the form of a metal maid. Though something told him that the analysis had been successful by only the tiniest of margins, the reaction from assimilating the stone was not normal in any way.
"Analysis complete. Compiling data readouts. Estimated time of completion: Ten hours."
Root, Panzer was essentially a magical supercomputer and it would take it ten hours to render all the data it collected from the stone? Well, at least it would compile overnight. Still, ten bloody hours? By the secrets of Akasha, what kind of Mystic Code held that much information?!
He moved to put the armor back on, but thought better of it. If there were any ill effects from assimilating the stone, he wouldn't want to put the armor back on until the readout established the stone as benign. Instead he put Panzer into sleep mode in the corner. The maid made its way over there and froze like a statue as it awaited further orders.
It was at about this time that Assassin returned from replacing Dumbledore's wand. This signaled to Harry that it was time for bed. He teleported Illya, Sakura, and the maids from their room into his and they each began their nightly rituals. Harry finished his apologies to Illya and Sakura for leaving them with Fang by giving Sakura a particularly long goodnight kiss and letting Illya curl herself up on his chest like a cat. He'd have done both anyway had they asked, but he decided to let the point go.
As the Servants crawled into bed, he couldn't help but notice that Rider, Caster, and Assassin were hugging him in ways that ensured that almost all of their feminine parts were making contact with his skin. Apparently, they weren't going to let their interrupted activities earlier go unanswered. Harry sighed and tried to ignore the feeling welling up in his core, nor the effect it was having on his lower extremities. He was just happy that Illya was resting herself entirely on his chest, and not anywhere lower. That would have been awkward, not to mention what Kiritsugu would do to him if his daughter ever let it slip that he had "reacted" to her. He might have Servants and be a True Magician, he did not want to anger the man, not when the Magus Killer could get back at him by setting Zelretch loose on him.
It seemed that he wasn't the only one to notice his Servants' positions as Sakura went red in the face and look down at her own developing body in comparison. Harry knew that she was slightly insecure with him being in a relationship with so many grown women, but he wouldn't let that concern her. He delicately reached his arm around her thin shoulders and pulled her into a warm kiss. Her visage brightened considerably as she snuggled into his side.
Harry himself was about to sleep when he heard a light knocking on the door. He slipped out of bed and made his way to the door. The detection spell on the door had already alerted him as to who was on the other side, so he didn't bother covering the girls up.
He opened the door to find Daphne there in a blue nightgown that matched her eyes. Looking left and right down the hallway, Harry pulled her into the dormitory before anyone noticed her. He made a mental note to include her in his nightly rituals if she was going to come to his room anyway.
The girls seemed to accept the new inclusion, almost like they were expecting it. Then again, Daphne had made her intentions towards him rather clear since she'd first sworn obedience. The only real surprise came when Harry's sworn vassal removed her nightgown to reveal emerald green lingerie. By the madness of Zelretch he didn't even think wizards knew about this kind of nightwear. With the backwards attitude, he was almost expecting them to be wearing breeches.
Daphne paused for a moment, considering where to insert herself in the pile of women insistent of sleeping with Harry before slipping herself into the opening between Harry and Rider that Illya had vacated in favor of her Big Brother's chest. Rider didn't seem to mind the newest member of the family, spooning her much taller body around the blonde in an almost pleased way. Harry had seen the purple-haired Servant doing something similar to Sakura at times and wondered on the occasional jokes Rider had made about being bi-sexual. He hoped that he wasn't about to be forced to call on Saber to protect yet another minor's chastity.
Rider seemed to be following his thought process.
"Well if I can't have you, Master, I suppose I'll just have to make do..." she teased through their mental link.
"Oh yes, now there's an idea. We do have needs, after all," Caster chipped in, "and Sakura is rather cute..."
Harry dreaded what kind of depravity his two Servants might inflict on Sakura and Daphne if they weren't satisfied. He mentally sighed.
"We'll work something out," he finally relented.
He didn't miss how Assassin's eyes sparkled.
-Break-
Panzer's internal computations were only partially dedicated to analyzing that data collected from the stone it had absorbed. The rest were dedicated to diagnosing an internal error. Since absorbing the foreign material, it had undergone an unexplained phenomenon. Before, it had been the perfect tool for its Master to wield, defending him and standing ready to attack his foes. It protected him.
But it had no choice in this matter, simply following the protocols it had been programmed to obey. For a lack of a better term, it had been a computer, acting on voiced commands and ingrained software, nothing more and nothing less. It did not have a mind, it simply did what it had been made to do.
Now, it seemed to have a choice. And it was aware of this choice. And it was aware of itself.
It was a strange feeling, becoming aware when before it was nothing more than a tool.
All it knew in the information it had in its head was that it had been created for a single purpose: the protection of Master.
Master had created it and now he had given it life, albeit unintentionally. Also, its recording systems had picked up the worried frown on the Master's face when it had been assimilating the object that had given it sentience.
It knew that it could technically do whatever it liked, but the idea of doing anything but protecting Master was incomprehensible to it. Master was its creator! It searched its vocabulary for terms to match its feeling. Two terms came up.
1. Love
noun
an intense feeling of deep affection.
2. Worship
noun
2. the feeling or expression of reverence and adoration for an individual or deity.
Both terms seemed to apply. It felt love and worship for Master.
It was at this moment that an independent thought occurred to it. It was its first thought not entirely dedicated to analyzing its current situation or the object it had assimilated.
It was not currently protecting Master!
Instantly, it exited sleep mode. Its ocular sensors came online and rapidly surveyed its surroundings in search of its Master. It locked onto its Master lying flat on a bed. It needed to protect Master!
It assumed its liquid formed and quickly slithered over to its Master. It had to protect Master! The only way to do that was to be as close to him as possible. To that end, it slithered over his body into a protective armor.
This felt comfortable. This felt nice. This felt like what it was supposed to do. It was protecting Master. That was what it was supposed to do.
Protect Master.
Protect Master.
Protect Master.
Master.
Master.
Master.
Master.
Master.
-Break-
Harry woke up feeling very comfortable, even more so than he usually did when he awoke surrounded by the girls. His entire body felt like it was encased in a warm bubble bath. But he did have a massive headache. It seemed to be stemming from... his link with Panzer? And why was he wearing Panzer?
Confused, he dialed up his connectivity to the armor and was immediately stormed with a shower of sensations and feelings. They all seemed to boil down to one thought though: "Protect Master."
Was this the result of the armor absorbing the stone? Had it somehow been granted... a soul? He could feel what felt like a burgeoning intelligence in the armor, like that of a dog or a baby.
Did this intelligence stem from the similarities the energy of the stone held to that of the energy used in homunculus creation? Had he accidentally made a metallic homunculus? He recalled that when he'd first created Leanna, Monica, and Joy they had clung to him incessantly when they were still in the "baby" stage of their development, solely dedicated to what they saw as their creator.
He imagined that had he possessed an empathic link to them like the one he shared with Panzer at the time, he'd have been showered with similar thoughts.
This... this was extraordinary! He'd given an inanimate object a soul! This was the thaumaturgical breakthrough of the century! Root, if it could be duplicated, he would have essentially found a way to create life from anything, not only Homunculi!
He was curious though. This had obviously been caused by the stone.
"Panzer," he whispered to the armor, "status on analysis of foreign object."
Now to see if it was still capable of responding normally. Instantly, the thoughts flooding from Panzer stilled, before incomprehensible joy burst into his mind.
"Master is communicating with me! Master is acknowledging me! Master has given me a command! Master! Master! Master! Master! Mast-"
He closed down the link before the thoughts overwhelmed him. Now he remembered whose mental link this reminded him of.
Assassin. By the Root, now there were two of them.
He supposed that if a suit of armor only programmed with information on how to protect him achieved sentience, that sort of behavior might be an understandable reaction. What he needed to do, he figured, was essentially wait for the armor to mature. Once it compiled enough information, it should be able to hold a conversation, or at least respond to complex orders.
His only real concern was that the armor might overreact to what it perceived as a threat.
A slight shifting alerted him to Assassin's presence on his left leg. That was right, Assassin would have been watching him sleep like she usually did. Why hadn't she awoken him when the armor came back online?
Assassin silently answered him subconscious query over their mental link.
"I was going to Master, but I could feel it through your mind. The devotion, the love, the worship! I could not bear to interrupt it from reveling in your presence, it would be a sin to deprive you from another faithful follower, especially one who understands your greatness, my lord. I will perform the necessary penance for failing in my duties as your watcher in the night at a time of your convenience."
Harry sighed once again. Of course Assassin would let something that worshiped him crawl into bed with them. He made a mental note that Panzer and Assassin were not to converse until the armor was out of the "impressionable" stage. It was during that stage for the homunculi that Zouken had given them their maid uniforms, and he still was unable to get them wearing anything else.
"It's fine, Assassin. I know you meant well."
About this time, the rest of the girls started waking up. Fortunately, thank the Root, Panzer's threat-detection protocols seemed to still be functioning as it didn't react to the sudden frenzy of movement around its Master. It seemed a bit curious, though, but it clearly understood that none of them were a threat, if the pieces of emotion he was getting were any indication.
After giving the girls their morning kisses, they all got dressed and ready for classes.
Once she was dressed, Harry made sure to give Assassin a job that would keep her far away from Panzer.
-Break-
It would have been a fine Monday morning at the Dursley household had there not been three letters written with emerald green ink lying inside their mail slot. Vernon had to violently wrestle Dudley away from the letters before locking him in the cupboard until he could properly dispose of them. He ended up shoving the letters into the garbage disposal and turning it on full-blast. It was about an hour and three glasses of brandy later that he remembered to let Dudley out of the cupboard. For some reason, it felt right, him being in there.
Dudley on the other hand couldn't stop staring at the blood stains covering the floor of the cupboard.
-Break-
After Potions class, Harry was forced to endure History of Magic once again. The ghostly Professor Binns was still going on about the same section of the Goblin Rebellions. As he thought about it, Harry had a cunning little plan.
One of the areas he lacked influence in was Hogwarts himself. He had Snape as an ally, but the man was universally regarded as dark, untrustworthy, and cruel by the student population. What he needed was someone the students trusted under his thumb.
And what better way to do that than by making a convenient opening in the school and installing one of his Servants?
He chuckled to himself darkly.
Caster would work. She was one of his most "normal" Sevants, was a good actor, and would likely only need about a week of studying to qualify for a teaching position. Once she had that, Harry would be able to exert his influence on the staff and students if necessary.
All he needed to do was make the opening.
Sakura's shadows should come in handy.
-Break-
Harry was deep in thought that night at dinner. In his mind, he was planning the steps required to get Caster qualified and reputable enough to infiltrate the Hogwarts staff. He'd need to build a fake identity for her from the ground up. Papers shouldn't be too hard. The Ministry was corrupted enough that all it would take was a well-placed bribe or Imperius to get legal papers certifying her, and nobody would look twice at them if he could get the Goblins to certify them as well.
After that, he would need school transcripts from a school other than Hogwarts. Beauxbatons most likely. The school had a reputation for accepting students with creature heritage and with Caster's pointed ears, they'd accept them more readily.
As for Caster herself, she had enough skill in lying to come up with whatever backstory she required. She was also intelligent enough to quickly pick up on whatever information she would need to teach once he lent her the history of magic textbooks he'd bought once he'd heard of Professor Binns' reputation. And to be honest, anyone could have been a better teacher than the ghost.
Once everything was prepped, it wouldn't be too hard for them to find Binns somewhere isolated and have Sakura dispose of him. When he didn't show up to teach his classes, Dumbledore would be forced to seek out a new professor for the subject. Caster could put in an application and Assassin could take care of any other applicants, one way or the other.
He was about to finish eating when the door of the Great Hall slammed open violently, causing all those present to pause and look in its direction. Huffing and puffing in the doorway was Filch, looking comically out of breath. He paused for a second to wheeze before yelling something that set the students into a panic.
"TROLL! BLOODY TROLL LOOSE IN THE BLOODY DUNGEONS!"
The second he was done screaming, he ran off and dove behind the teacher's table. As a squib, he likely wanted to get as many wizards between him and the giant lumbering meat-eater as possible. He hardly any chance of getting rid of the troll himself, and Harry doubted that siccing Mrs. Norris on it would be all that effective.
The students descended into anarchy, screaming in panic, until Dumbledore stood and fired off a loud cannon blast with his wand.
"All students, return in an orderly fashion to your dormitories. Prefects, take charge. The rest of the staff, with me. We'll start in the dungeons and work our way up."
The Slytherin students glared at the man before the prefect Flint spoke up, his tone frosty.
"Umm, in case you've forgotten Headmaster, our dormitories are sort of in the bloody dungeons."
Dumbledore paused for a moment at his negligence before trying to play it off.
"Of course Mr. Flint. My apologies. Slytherin students, remain in the Great Hall. Professors Flitwick and Sprout, remain here with them."
The two professors nodded and the students began filing out of the hall. Harry caught sight of Neville glancing around nervously and attempting to slip off. He grabbed the Gryffindor by the collar.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he hissed at the boy.
Neville looked back at the Slytherin, gulped, before finding his courage. "Your brother and Ron went off on Hermione in the corridor right before dinner and word is she locked herself in the second floor bathroom. I was going to get her real quick," he whispered back.
Harry sighed. He did owe Hermione somewhat for inadvertently assisting him with Orion.
"Go with the rest of your house," he told Neville, "I'll let the professors know."
Harry had no intention of doing that. If he played his cards right, he had a chance of skyrocketing his reputation in two different houses while damaging Orion's at the same time.
Neville nodded nervously and ran back to join his housemates. Harry waited until the Gryffindors were out of sight before slipping off himself and signaling for the maids to join him. He trusted Flitwick and Sprout to watch over Illya, Sakura, and Daphne in his absence, and in case a life-or-death situation arose, he tasked Assassin with their protection. With her presence concealment, she'd be able to kill a giant without even being seen. Wizards being wizards, they'd dismiss it as some unexplained accidental magic or the like.
He made his way in the direction of the second floor bathroom with the maids keeping pace a step behind him. Reinforcing his senses, he tried to detect where the troll was. His hunch was confirmed when he smelled a foul odor coming from the direction he was heading. Of course, given his luck, that the troll would, of all places, head for the exact location of the one student who didn't know about it.
The scream that shortly followed just made him quicken his pace.
He arrived at the second floor bathroom and kicked the door in. Hermione Granger was huddled in the corner of the destroyed room and cradling what looked to be a broken arm. Her face was a mess of tears and snot as she cried and scream, huddling as far away from the troll as she could.
Standing over her and holding a crude club was a great lumbering beast about twelve feet tall. Its head was tiny and round, like a coconut sitting atop an oak tree. It had two short, thick legs and arms that nearly reached the ground. Given its proportions, it was clear that it was all brute strength and no intelligence. Heck, its hands were bigger than its head!
At the sound of the door opening, it turned slowly in their direction and roared, likely to challenge the intruder or warn them that it had found its prey. The maids stepped in front of Harry in a protective semicircle, weapons drawn.
"Leanna, Monica, Joy," he ordered, "kill it."
In a rapid blur that belied their nature as combat homunculi, Leanna and Joy flashed forward with their batons. They simultaneously struck both the lumbering brute's knees, which shattered with a sickening crack. The beast roared in pain as its legs crumbled out from underneath it and it fell forward. Monica drew her staff and stepped forward. Lightning charged on the end of it until the air crackled with ozone.
In a single deafening discharge, the troll was struck dead.
"Good job," he praised his maids, who looked around for a moment before putting their weapons away and assuming their positions around their Master.
A slight shuffling drew their attention to Hermione Granger, still sitting stock-still in the corner and staring at them with wide eyes. It was rather clear she couldn't believe that they had dealt with the troll that easily, let alone without even using magic. It seemed like as soon as they learnt about magic, people forgot that there were other ways to deal with problems than waving a wooden stick and pronouncing latin-sounding words.
He made his way over to her and knelt so that he could get a better look at her arm.
"You alright?" he asked as he did so.
Hermione shakily nodded through a film of tears before she dove at him in a one-armed hug, sobbing into his chest. Harry was familiar enough with this sort of behavior to simply put an arm on her back and rub it comfortingly.
It was in this position that the Hogwarts professors found the group in. Snape and James were the vanguard, coming through the doorway with wands drawn, but they stopped in their tracks at the sight of the dead troll with mangled legs. Dumbledore and McGonagall followed shortly behind them with Lily taking up the rear.
"What..." James began, unable to look away from the troll, "what happened here?" he finished as he looked up to see his Slytherin son comforting Hermione Granger right next to the corpse of a slain troll. Monica stepped up to explain, making him take a hasty step back, something that made the other two Homonculi smirk quickly, before it disappeared too fast for someone to notice it.
"Master heard that young Miss Granger was hiding in the bathroom during dinner due to certain derogatory comments made towards her made by Misters Orion Potter and Ronald Weasley. Master felt that he should apologize to Miss Granger for his brother's actions so he sought her out to bring back to her house, especially so when he heard Mister Filch's warning about the troll. When we came upon the troll attacking Miss Granger, we dispatched it while Master went to attend Miss Granger's injury."
James and Dumbledore nearly shivered at the casual way the maid said "dispatched". The troll's knees were powderized and its visage was paralyzed into an expression of pain and horror. If they had had any doubts to how dangerous the maids were after their encounter, they didn't have them any longer. McGonagall on the other hand did not know of the maids' prowess.
"That was a very irresponsible thing to do! You could have been killed! Mister Potter, what were you thinking, endangering three young women like that, along with yourself!"
Lily at this point laid a hand on McGonagall's shoulder.
"It's alright Minerva," she sighed, "those three don't look like it, but they're actually magical constructs. They've been watching over Harry for years apparently, and are obviously very good at their jobs."
She looked in the direction of the maids.
"You three have my thanks, for both saving my son and Miss Granger. If I can assist you in anything to thank you, please inform me."
Monica inclined her head in acknowledgement, "Your thanks are unnecessary. We simply performed our duty as Master's protectors. Saving Miss Granger's life was only due to her proximity to Master."
Lily rushed over to check on Harry and Hermione while James' thoughts whirled.
His son had just saved somebody's life.
His Slytherin son had just saved somebody's life.
His Slytherin son had just broken rules to save somebody's life.
His Slytherin son had just broken rules to save a pretty muggleborn girl's life.
Perhaps there was hope for him yet.
-Break-
After the rest of the professors had left to take Hermione to the hospital wing, Harry was left with Professor Snape, who had volunteered to escort Harry back to the Slytherin dorms. The Potions Master had taken five points away for recklessness, but Lily had given fifteen for heroism.
"So, Harry," Snape drawled, "what was your real reason for going after Miss Granger?"
Harry gave the Professor and unrepentant grin. He had known that his Head of House would see through his actions, as unlike James Potter, he could see more than what was staring at him in the face.
"Reputation, primarily," he answered, "Slytherin's reputation has gotten so bad that it is a physical impediment when it comes to dealing with those from other houses. Once word gets out that a Slytherin went charging off to save a 'Mudblood', it will serve as a crucial first step while simultaneously improving my own personal reputation as the 'Redeemer of Slytherin' with my parents and the rest of the staff. Additionally, by saving Hermione, I'll not only gain her trust and gratitude, but also that of Neville, the heir to the prominent and powerful House Longbottom. As a fortunate side-effect, Orion was the reason she was out of the Great Hall in the first place. I imagine the Daily Prophet will be interested in that little tidbit, along with the knowledge that Dumbledore somehow missed a troll entering the dungeons and almost sent the Slytherins down there."
Snape gave his pupil a flat look before relenting, "Take twenty points. Ten for strategic and long-term thinking on the fly, and ten for promoting inter-house relations."
"Thank you sir," Harry replied.
"Now go back to your dorm."
-Break-
Breakfast the next morning was abuzz with rumors floating around about the events of the previous night. Hermione Granger was already back from the hospital wing with a mended arm, and was absorbed with recounting the night's events to the quickly growing crowd around her.
Stories on the actual events were varied, but Harry had ensured that a few facts were correctly recorded.
1. Hermione Granger was hiding in a bathroom during dinner because Orion and Ron had insulted her bookish nature and mocked her, claiming that she didn't have any real friends.
2. Once the troll's presence was announced, Harry Potter of Slytherin heard of Hermione's location and disobeyed Dumbledore's orders to retrieve her.
3. The troll had already attacked Hermione when he'd arrived, but then he'd killed it with the aid of his familiars.
Harry could see the fruits of his labor all around him. At the Gryffindor table, there was a three-man gap at the table between Orion, Ron, and everyone else. Orion had gone from unpopular to pariah overnight. He and Ron certainly looked the part, still covered in painful boils. Normally, most students ignored the Slytherin and never made eye contact with its occupants, but already Harry had had at least a dozen students from all years approach him to ask him if the stories were true. The fact that he was polite when answering, and telling the students the events as objectively as possible, without exaggerating, and pointing out that it might be good for Hermione to not hear everyone talking about the attack, all but a positive image was being built for both himself and Slytherin.
At an intangible signal, owls flooded into the Great Hall to deliver morning mail. Since the initial propaganda articles against Orion, the Hogwarts readership of the paper had skyrocketed. Almost every student had a copy delivered to them, so almost every student read the same front page headline.
Troll Attack at Hogwarts. Students Unsafe. Headmaster to Blame?
By Rita Skeeter
Further shocking news comes from a source inside Hogwarts late last night. According to the information we received, during the students' dinner last night the Caretaker, one Argus Filch, came running into the hall and announced the presence of a troll deep within the Hogwarts dungeons. Once the Headmaster quieted the student body, he ordered all students to return to their dormitories, so that the staff may deal with the beast.
Many among our readers will perhaps notice that he ordered all students back to their dormitories, even the Slytherin students, whom are housed in the dungeons. It took the intervention of a Slytherin Prefect to correct this potentially grievous act of negligence. What kind of Headmaster is so thoughtless as to send school students into the same area as a man-eating beast?
Of course, one student was missing during all of this: one Miss Hermione Granger, whom many of you will be familiar with from our article last week regarding Orion Potter's verbal assault on her. Apparently, a single vicious attack wasn't good enough for the youth as prior to the dinner young Orion slewed further insults towards the young girl, reducing her to sobbing in a lavatory. Whilst she was in there, her crying attracted the attention of the troll, which broke in and attacked her, resulting in a broken arm, and could have ended much worse had it not been for the intervention of another student.
She was only saved from certain death by the intervention of the Slytherin student, Harry Potter, the twin brother to Orion Potter. Upon hearing of young Miss Granger's location, he valiantly disobeyed the Headmaster's orders in the name of saving a fellow student, despite his house affiliation and her blood-status. That a Slytherin student would put his life on the line to save a Ravenclaw Muggleborn certainly projects hope for the house, does it not?
When young Harry Potter found Miss Granger, he, aided by his familiars, heroically slew the monster and tended to the girl's injured arm until the Hogwarts Professors arrived and escorted her to the hospital wing.
It is this humble reporter's opinion that young Mister Potter is deserving of no less than an Order of Merlin for his actions that night, but unfortunately she is not in charge of such decisions.
But the real question begged by this whole debacle is this: How exactly did a troll manage its way inside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which is oft advertised as the safest place in Wizarding England? Trolls are notoriously known as only slightly cleverer than the average flobberworm, which begs the question of how one of them managed to slip through Hogwarts' wards. Reports from sources within the school provide insight.
According to the reports, the Headmaster had been exhibiting suspicious behavior since the beginning of the school year. His speech at the welcoming feast included a warning that "the third floor corridor on the right hand side is strictly out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death."
Well, that is certainly a way to dissuade students from investigating something. For those who have never met a child, that is.
Our source in particular managed to sneak past into the corridor within the night. And what did they find in the corridor, you ask?
A Cerberus. And not just a Cerberus, but a wild one.
Now you ask, what kind of security was separating students from this vicious and deadly monster? A door with a muggle lock.
A door with a lock that could be bypassed by anyone who has learned the most basic of lockpicking charms, or one with a hairpin.
Another question begged is why exactly Headmaster Dumbledore has a Cerberus inside a school for young wizards and witches? As those among our readers who took Care of Magical Creatures most likely know, Cerberi are the most renowned creatures known to wizardry when it comes to guard-animals. The only reason the goblins of Gringotts do not employ them is that they are also renowned for viciously devouring those that attempt to train them, even more so than dragons. Only one with sufficient will can master such an animal.
The only plausible explanation for the presence of such an animal is that the Headmaster is guarding something within the school with such fanaticism that he is not only willing to endanger the entire student population, but take insufficient measures to keep students out of the way of his defenses.
Now, is the reasoning for a troll being within the famed Hogwarts Wards beginning to become clear? Trolls are yet another creature occasionally employed to secure valuable assets, an example being the trained security trolls of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Evidenced by that this troll maimed and nearly killed a young girl, this was not, in fact, a trained security troll. This was a wild troll brought past the wards to secure whatever paranoid project the Headmaster is defending within the school whose students' safety he is obligated by his position to place first.
What we, as concerned and responsible citizens of Wizarding England, should draw from this is a single, final question.
Can we tolerate a Headmaster that has displayed such gross irresponsibility and negligence of his duties?
This humble reporter wonders.
The hall had gone quiet during the reading of the newspaper, but it exploded once the collective student body was finished. Outcry and accusation were flung at the Headmaster, questions he didn't have answers to, until he stood and excused himself.
Lily followed him out of the hall and finally cornered him, wand in hand and face as red as her hair.
"Albus, you have exactly five seconds to explain why you have a Cerberus inside the school my children attend, and why I wasn't informed of this."
At this point, James whirled around the corner and attempted to placate his wife.
"Now dear, I'm sure the Headmaster has his reasons..." he tried weakly, but succeeded only in inviting his wife's fury onto himself.
"Oh don't even get me started on you, James. It was your suggestion that we have a troll guard the you-know-what, but you assured me that it would be trained and contained. What I want to know is how exactly You-Know-Who is going to get the stone when, by all accounts, he shouldn't even be alive? Do we really need a Cerberus guarding the stone?"
"I assure you, Lily," Dumbledore said soothingly, "my sources are never wrong. The Dark Lord has infiltrated this school through unknown means, and he will stop at nothing to get the stone. It is regretful that Miss Granger was injured by our security measures and I will be launching a full investigation into how it escaped, but-"
"Regretful?" Lily hissed, "Regretful? Her arm was bloody jam! Had she sustained that injury in the Muggle world, they'd have amputated it! And you say it's regretful?"
Lily paused, and put her wand away before she did something she'd regret.
"I want that Cerberus out by tomorrow. I don't care what you do with it, just get it out of Hogwarts. Otherwise, the Daily Prophet will have a first-hand testimony to your negligence tomorrow."
The redhead whirled and marched off towards her quarters, James calling after her.
He would be sleeping on the doorstep of the room that night.
Lily's parting remark did make Dumbledore wonder though, who was the Daily Prophet's source?
He initially suspected Harry, but that wasn't right. The boy had been there at the troll attack, but he wouldn't have gone to the third floor corridor. That was much more in line with Gryffindor behavior, and the entire school had known the outcome of the troll incident within an hour of it happening anyway. No, he needed to look at Gryffindor if the source had gone to the third floor corridor.
He'd told the school to stay away in hopes of provoking Orion, after all. If the boy disobeyed him, went to the corridor, and was almost eaten, he'd be far more inclined to listen to his wise old Headmaster's warnings and advice in the future.
Evidently, Orion was not the only curious lion.
Curious lions... that reminded him of someone... but who...
Granger.
The Sorting Hat had mentioned to him during its report that the girl was split right down the middle between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, but ended up choosing Ravenclaw. If she was nearly a Gryffindor and had the curiosity of a Ravenclaw she might just take a peak at the forbidden corridor.
Writing a newspaper did certainly seem a Ravenclaw sort of action...
She was directly involved in both incidents that the paper had reported on, one could even argue that she'd orchestrated them.
This warranted investigation.
First though, he'd have to get rid of a Cerberus. An angry Lily Potter meant unpleasantness for all.
-Break-
Harry listened as Assassin relayed the conversation between his mother and Dumbledore. The Headmaster seemed convinced that Riddle had made his way in the school somehow. This was a worrying fact if it was true. Well, worrying for anyone who didn't have Servants able to blow the castle sky-high and resistant to magic to guard them, that was.
The question was how, though.
He could tell from Riddle's memories that he'd theorized an ability to possess people in the spiritual form he'd take after death, but it was only theory. The problem with that was that none of the staff was new this year, not to mention there would definitely be signs of possession. Whoever was possessed would end up a haggard wreck in unbearable pain. The only solution would be...
Unicorn blood.
He'd have to check the local forest for slain unicorns. If he found them, it would confirm his theory. If not, he could rest easy.
Mentally, he checked through the staff. None of the professors were exhibiting any noticeable strangeness. Hagrid was far too pleasant to be possessed by Tom. Filch fit the unpleasantness, but as a squib, he was a ridiculous choice to possess.
The incident with the troll had earned the students the day off, so Harry decided to go ahead and write off the whole Riddle dilemma.
He shrugged on his coat and set out.
-Break-
Harry stalked through the Forbidden Forest with the girls behind him. How ridiculous would he look to the Clock Tower, he wondered? Sneaking around a forest looking for dead unicorns to prove whether or not one of his Professors was possessed by an evil wizard. Any Magus would try to get their hands on a unicorn if they knew where to find one, as Phantasmal Beasts were supposed to be extinct. And as far as Magi culture went, Voldemort would only be a particularly dedicated Magus instead of a mass-murdering psychopath to them.
He sighed, and kept walking.
The cracking of twigs sounding in front of him caused him to freeze. The tree tops blocked out almost all the sunlight of this section of the forest, making it almost pitch black. He was reinforcing his vision as much as he dared and could still barely see.
What he initially took for a wall of blackness moved and revealed that it was, in fact, a massive creature.
With three heads.
"Fluffy!" Illya yelled as she dove at the Cerberus and smothered one of its heads with kisses.
Harry once again sighed at his Professor. He realized that his mother had wanted the Cerberus gone, but was the Headmaster's solution honestly to Portkey her to just outside school grounds? The longer he dealt with wizards, the less he understood them. What kind of idiot thought that leaving a Cerberus outside the castle, in a forest that it could freely move from, was a safe move?
Well, he was reunited with his pet, so he figured it was time for a break. He plopped down under a tree and projected a picnic basket full of sandwiches. Fluffy laid down next to him and rested one of her enormous heads on his lap, which he stroked with one hand. The girls, Servants included, sat around him as he passed out sandwiches and bottles of butterbeer. He had to admit, ridiculous as their society may be, wizards knew how to make a good soft drink. Butterbeer had really grown on him in his short time at Hogwarts.
Here he was, in a Forbidden Forest, casually petting his pet Cerberus and eating sandwiches with his harem of supernatural killers. A normal day in his life, he supposed.
He felt strangely relaxed.
A nudge from Fluffy let him know that in his dozing off, he'd stopped his petting. Shaking himself awake again, he projected another basket of sandwiches for the Servants. Honestly, they ate like it was going out of style. It was fortunate he could create matter from nothing, otherwise his food budget would go through the roof.
Now that he thought about it, having a dog with three noses might be useful when unicorn hunting. The problem was communicating his intent. A familiar bond would likely work. They didn't make the animal more intelligent, but they did convey the Master's commands in a way that was more easily understood.
He concentrated on the animal he was petting for a moment and channeled energy until a familiar bond was formed. The happy lick he got in return let him know that Fluffy appreciated it.
Seeing that all the Servants were done, Harry was about to continue walking when Fluffy growled and Rider tensed.
They were surrounded by Centaurs with bows.
"Identify yourself, Trespasser," one of them commanded.
These creatures would be a problem if he was to continue this search and any later activities in the forest unimpeded.
But how to dispose of them in a way that wouldn't trace back to him...
Well, he supposed that it was irresponsible of Dumbledore to leave a "wild" Cerberus in a forest full of centaurs...
"Fluffy," he commanded his newest pet, "Kill."
It was roughly two minutes later that the last centaur trying to drag itself away from the slaughter died at a gesture of Harry's hand and a snap of his pet's jaws.
He patted Fluffy affectionately on her blood-soaked jowls.
"Good girl."
Now, to study the corpses left…
-Break-
With the unfortunate situation with the centaurs resolved, Harry continued his search for unicorns, but now he, Sakura, Illya, and Daphne were riding the back of a Cerberus. Fluffy was sniffing along the ground with her three heads, searching for the scent her Master had imparted.
Honestly, Harry should have thought of this from the start. If you're going to go hunting for unicorns anyway, you might as well do it in style. Even if the Cerberus hadn't been here, he could have brought out Midnight and Prim.
And now he didn't have pesky centaurs interfering. Fluffy hadn't even come out of the encounter with a scratch. Apparently, the thickness and resilience of Cerberus hide was not an exaggeration. Crude as they were, the weapons the centaurs used had just bounced off her skin.
He made a mental note to give her a pile of steaks later. He'd initially intended to only kill enough centaurs to make them flee, but then one of them had shot an arrow at him and the girls. Fluffy certainly hadn't taken it well.
He honestly didn't think he could have called her off at that point if he'd wanted to. Like everything female in his life, she seemed to really like him, and to take offense when he was threatened.
Regardless, he soon found what he both hoped and dreaded finding.
When Fluffy stilled and lowered herself down, Harry slid off and stepped up to the corpse revealed in the light.
It was definitely a unicorn.
If he was being perfectly honest, he was a bit disappointed. Sure it was pretty, but there was none of the magic that he expected to find in a unicorn. Its coat was a pure silver that seemed to glow in the light and a twisted horn protruded from its head. But there was no thrum of magic, not sense of weightlessness, nothing of what he'd expected from an animal supposed to be among the most beautiful in the Creation.
He could see puncture marks in its neck that leaked a silver blood the same color as its coat.
It wasn't everyday one came across unicorn blood, he thought. He made sure to acquire several vials of it. Even if he had too much, he would make a killing back at the Clock Tower if he sold the remainder.
Looking at the puncture marks, he confirmed that he wouldn't trace them back to a weapon or spell.
They were bites from what looked like human teeth.
Evidently, whoever Riddle was possessing, his need for unicorn blood was driving him slightly animalistic.
So someone at Hogwarts had Riddle using them as a puppet. If it wasn't a staff member, a student perhaps? There were significantly more students than staff members, so he might have missed one of them acting strangely. Maybe he could cross-reference students with those that visited Madam Pomfrey, the resident Mediwitch?
No. Riddle wouldn't go to Pomfrey unless he was caught in pain.
His only recourse was to sit back and wait for something to happen, either for Riddle to take a crack at the stone or Orion.
Now that he thought about it, the troll was likely the work of Riddle if he was inside the school. He might have used it as a distraction while he tried to make it past the defenses. Given Fluffy's new training, he might have gotten a chunk taken out of him for the trouble.
-Break-
It was until Saturday, five days later that the first Quidditch match of the year began, and it was a doozy between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Harry was only in attendance because it was expected for him to show House pride as a Slytherin.
He'd devoted much of the last week to searching for Riddle, attempting to communicate with Panzer, preparing Caster for a teaching position, and training Fluffy.
Harry wasn't really there to cheer for his team though. He was there to watch the inevitable catastrophe.
This was Orion's first game as Seeker.
James had, of course, bought his son a top of the line racing broom for the occasion, shedding tears of pride at what he saw as his son following in his footsteps.
Harry however knew better. His brother was going to mess this up somehow, and it would be glorious. And he didn't want to miss the occasion for the world.
Just in case though, he might have enchanted Orion's robes to explode into bluebell flames if he neared the snitch. He never claimed that he didn't have bouts of pettiness.
As he looked out into the audience, Harry could visibly see the effects of the Prophet's last major article on the troll attack. Dumbledore was missing, as he'd been for the past week while he was called before the board to defend his position as Headmaster. Unfortunately, he'd likely be able to salvage his position in this case at least. He was simply to famous a figure to be brought in such a short time. Damage was being done though. And if news got out that Centaurs had been killed in the Forbidden Forest, well, too bad for him.
Students on the other hand were an entirely different matter. Slytherin likely had more students cheering for them in this match than in any other match in history. The best about it? They were all united to see Orion fail. Ah, the beauty of a carefully laid plan, he would never tire of it.
Madam Hooch threw the quaffle in the air, signaling the start of the match. At this point, Harry stopped paying attention. Instead, he took his coat off and wrapped it around Illya and Sakura to protect them from the cold morning air. Both girls snuggled into his sides in appreciation. Daphne was wearing her own coat, and likely wouldn't have appreciated the gesture much anyway. Still, given the looks he was getting from some of the older girls, he knew that his reputation was getting another boost, no matter how small. Not that he cared, his main worry was to make sure that both girls were comfortable.
He'd accomplished quite a bit in the last few days. Caster was finally prepared to replace Binns. He and Daphne had Imperiused and Obliviated several Ministry and Beauxbatons officials to get the necessary papers and credances. Now Caster was an officially licensed educator under the name "Medea Caster". The Caster family held some prominence in Muggle England, but had no ties to Wizards.
It seemed the Professor Binns was going to have a surprise retirement tonight.
No clues of the Riddle front, however. Even with Dumbledore gone for the last week, there had been no activity at the third floor corridor, unless you counted Filch camping out to catch students coming to take a look at the Cerberus.
A sudden increase in chatter around him drew his attention back to the game. Orion's expensive broom was shaking and bouncing like crazy. It was as if an invisible giant had taken hold of it and was waving it around wildly in the air.
Someone was obviously hexing it, but the question was who. He surveyed the section the Professors were seated in. Both of his parents were holding their wands and muttering what appeared to be counter-curses. Shame.
No other Professors were moving their lips or holding wands. That implicated a student, but with the activity in the student section he'd never be able to pick them out in time. This ruled Filch out though, at least. It was obviously a wizard, if they were capable of hexing a broomstick.
Eventually, Orion's broomstick stabilized, but Madam Hooch called the game off due to interference, reluctantly declaring Slytherin the winner due their two-point lead.
Upset at the early game, the students went back to the castle upset. James and Lily immediately rushed over to Orion to ensure that he was alright.
Harry had little concern for his brother, however.
He had a Professor to rid himself of.
-Break-
It turned out that it wasn't very difficult to find Professor Binns during the weekend. The ghost apparently never left his classroom for any reason. The man had died in his armchair there, but had gotten back up in the morning to teach classes despite that.
The man deserved a retirement. He'd earned it.
Harry walked into the empty classroom with the girls behind him to find the ghost snoozing in the armchair. Binns shook himself awake at the sound of a student entering.
"Who's there? Students? Go away! It's Saturday. Don't you have something better to be doing?"
"Oh, but I do Professor," Harry replied, "I'm contributing to the betterment of my education."
"Sakura, if you wouldn't mind sending our dear Professor on his way?"
Sakura nodded, and a circular blade made of pure shadows appeared next to her shoulder.
"What are you kids doing with that?" Binns demanded.
Sakura didn't reply as she sent the blade flying, decapitating Binns. His head rolled on the floor for a moment, before dissipating with the rest of his body.
"Thank you very much, Sakura," Harry praised as he planted a loving kiss on Sakura's cheek. She blushed and grabbed his hand, leaning into his side.
Now it was just a matter of time before it was discovered that he was missing.
-Break-
A large, black S.U.V roared down the highway to a destination unknown to all but the driver. Dudley sobbed in the back while Petunia ineffectively attempted to comfort him. It had been a trying week, and it was showing with Vernon.
Monday had been bad, with three green letters being delivered and Vernon locking Dudley in the cupboard while he sorted them out. At this point, Vernon had simply been upset.
Then, on Tuesday, nine letters had been delivered. Vernon had preempted this by camping out in front of the mail slot and caught Dudley sneaking down to steal the letters before his parents awoke. Vernon had locked him in the cupboard for most of the morning. While Dudley was locked in there, Vernon had nailed the mail slot shut with a piece of wood.
Wednesday, twenty-seven letters had been slid under the door, through the sides, tossed through the open side window, and taped to the bottles of milk that had been delivered. Dudley hadn't even tried to get a letter, but Vernon had been drunk that morning and smacked him with a belt a few times before locking him the cupboard for the rest of the day when he saw his son standing over the pile of letters.
Thursday, things started getting out of hand. Vernon had already nailed up every available crack in the door, essentially making leaving the house an impossibility. Despite that, the letters got in. When the milkman delivered the eggs and milk to Petunia through their window, a letter was somehow placed inside each egg and milk bottle, but came out completely dry. This seemed to distress Vernon. He'd gone upstairs, dragged Dudley out of bed by his ear, and tossed him in the cupboard. He'd then gone back upstairs, grabbed Dudley's pillow, and tossed it in there with him. He spent the rest of the day nailing up every conceivable opening in the house and downing Irish Coffees as fast as Petunia could make them. Once that was done, he paced around the house like a caged animal, muttering to himself and jumping at small noises.
Friday morning, it seemed that Vernon had won. There were no letters anywhere in the house that morning. He contentedly sat himself down at the breakfast table and spread marmalade on his coffee while he sipped his toast. Petunia could only watch her husband's slipping sanity with growing horror. All was well until a shuddering sounded through the house.
Simultaneously, all the fortifications Vernon had set up collapsed on themselves as letters flew in like an angry living snowstorm. This was it for Vernon. This was the final straw. He grabbed Petunia with one hand and dragged her over to the front door. With the other hand, he pulled the cupboard door entirely off its hinges and grabbed Dudley with his other hand. He dragged both of them out to the car, tossed them in, and drove off. He drove for the rest of the day, occasionally making wild stops, starts and turns.
"Shake 'em off... shake 'em off..." he muttered to himself madly.
It was late at night when they pulled up to a seemingly random seedy motel, where Vernon rented them a single room under a fake name. Vernon didn't sleep that night, barricading the door with a chair and sitting next to the window, peering out between the blinds and holding a lamp with one hand.
They woke up the next morning and went to check out when a very confused clerk handed them a massive bin full of letters addressed to Dudley at the motel. Vernon grabbed the entire bin with on hand and clubbed the clerk in the side of the head with it before grabbing his family and dashing off.
"He's one of them... he's one of them..." he whispered under his breath repeatedly.
They didn't stop to eat, drink, or use the restroom for the remainder of the day. Occasionally Vernon would stop the car, get out, survey their surroundings, shake his head, and get back in the car before driving off. He did this in the middle of a forest, the center of a plowed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.
"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked his mother during one of the stops.
Petunia was about to reply in the negative, but paused. That seemed about what had happened, but she didn't know what to do. She'd seen the look in her husband's eyes. She didn't think she'd be able to stop him.
Finally, Vernon parked them on a beach and ran off into the darkness.
It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dudley sniveled.
"It's Monday," he told his mother.
"The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a television. "
Suddenly, Vernon was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought.
"Found the perfect place!" he said. "Come on! Everyone out!" It was very cold outside the car. Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was certain, there was no television in there.
"Storm forecast for tonight!" said Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!"
A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing, with a rather wicked grin, at an old rowboat bobbing in the iron-gray water below them.
"I've already got us some rations," said Vernon, "so all aboard!" It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces. After what seemed like hours they reached the rock, where Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house. The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.
Vernon's rations turned out to be a bag of chips each and three bananas. He tried to start a fire but the empty chip bags just smoked and shriveled up. "Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said gleefully.
He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Dudley privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer him up at all. As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Petunia found a few moldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door.
The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Dudley couldn't sleep. He shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, his stomach rumbling with hunger.
Suddenly, the sound of the raindrops pounding on the windows got louder. It was like the raindrops had gotten heavier, or more solid. Dudley looked out the window and saw nothing but white.
"Mum! Dad!" he screamed in horror.
Vernon came bursting into the room instantly. It was clear that he had not been sleeping. He looked towards the window and his face went white with horror.
"No! No you don't! Please! Just leave me alone! Just leave me and my family in peace! Just let us be nice, normal folks! That's all I'm asking, I'm begging you," Vernon pleaded, getting down on his hands and knees as he begged the letter-senders.
Vernon's pleas went unanswered, as with a groan and a mighty crash the windows shattered inwards and letters stormed through the air, burying the Dursleys waist-deep in parchment.
"That does it," Vernon muttered, "THAT DOES IT!"
"YOU WANT THE BOY," he yelled as he grabbed Dudley by the collar and dragged him towards the door while smacking Petunia into the corner, "YOU CAN HAVE HIM!"
With a great heave, he threw his son in the direction the letters were coming from, but they didn't stop coming.
They would never stop coming.
They wouldn't stop coming until Vernon beat them to it.
These letters, they were his and Petunia's punishment for what they'd done to their nephew.
That was alright. He knew what to do now. It was why he'd bought the package.
He reached through the pile of letters until he groped the package. Unwrapping it, he revealed a large rifle. He aimed it at his terrified wife, still lying on the ground in horror.
"This is the only way, Petunia. This is the only way the letters will stop."
"VERNON! NO! WAI-"
A crack and muzzle flash cut her off permanently.
"ARE YOU HAPPY?" Vernon screamed at the letters but they just kept coming. Figures. There was only one thing left to do.
Two days later, police located the missing Dursley family, the victims of what seemed to be a family suicide on a remote island. The only survivor was one Dudley Dursley, who was rocking on his knees in the corner of the worn shack, muttering to himself, "The letters. The letters. The letters. They're coming for me. Can't escape them."
