Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
A/N: I'm so sorry for the late update. Here's an extra long chapter with some more extras. :)
Summary for the last chapter : Harry had reluctantly agreed to accompany the delegates to the Vampire's Lair. And he got roped into teaching new recruits too.
Chapter 9
Mark Lagnes, a tall blonde fresh out of Hogwarts, stood at the castle grounds with other new recruits. They were divided into groups of five and each group were assigned a senior Death Eater. Every night, they will be trained in their groups and his group was numbered thirteen. 'Unlucky,' he thought.
Mark eyed the masked wizard assigned to them. A cloak covered the man but his hood was down, exposing shoulder length black hair.
"Welcome to your first training," said the brunette.
Mark felt anticipation swell in him. Now is the chance to improve himself.
"What you experienced during your first raid was only the tip of the iceberg. You fought civilians, untrained wizards. In the future, you'll be fighting a whole new level of opponents. The Aurors and Unspeakables. They are not mere fighters for you to underestimate. Your chances of survival are low and the Dark Lord has no use of dead servants except to feed his snake. Suffice to say, you are more valuable to him if you're alive. Unfortunately, we were ordered to waste or precious time to help you increase your survival rate."
The raven haired wizard was silent for a moment, letting them absorb his words, and then pulled out his wand. Mark looked attentively at their instructor. What are they going to learn?
"Your first lesson is 'Catch the Rabbits'."
Mark looked disbelievingly at the Death Eater in front of him. You have got to be kidding me. He exchanged glances with his fellow group mate, and he could guess what they were thinking. Is he insane?
One of his teammate stepped forward, Mark didn't recognize who, voicing out their thoughts. "Why do we have to catch rabbits?" Soft voice, a woman.
"Just do what I say or I'll curse you within an inch of your life. We have the Dark Lord's permission to do whatever we want with you except killing." Mark could imagine the grin under the mask although he didn't dismiss the warning. Hell, the atmosphere was heavy with the wizards' magic, swirling around, ready to crush them at any second.
The woman stiffened and she backed off. The magic in the air instantly disappear. Mark gasped for breath, relieved the tension was gone. Insane and dangerous.
"Good, then," the brunette waved his wand and immediately white rabbits appeared around them. "There are twenty rabbits and I've put up a barrier around the castle grounds. Your task is to catch as many as you can. The time limit is one hour." A flick of his wand and a giant hour glass appeared at the sky. "You may start…now!" He slashed his wand and instantly the rabbits hopped away, disappearing into the darkness and the sand started trickling.
Mark grimaced as he started to walk away, searching for the bloody rabbits. He could feel the eyes of other groups on them. This is so embarrassing. He was an adult for Merlin's sake, not a five year old boy running around and catching rabbits.
An hour later
The sound of gong rang throughout the ground signaling their time was up. Mark huffed tiredly, relief flooded him. He was glad the bloody chase was over. If it went any longer, he would have gone on a rampage and kill any rabbits on sight.
He couldn't believe it, he thought it was a simple, not an exhausting, patience wearing task. These weren't your normal domestic bunnies. They were freaking magical bunnies which he didn't even know existed! He had tried everything he could think of; he ran after them, he had tried Summoning, Stunner, various other spells and even apparition. They all failed. He was lucky enough to catch the one he was holding and it was purely accidental. The rabbit actually hopped to him, not the other way round. Why? He had no idea.
Slowly, he arrived at the meeting point. His group mates were already there, a couple of them weren't even holding rabbits and no one caught more than one. Half of him was glad he wasn't the worst one and the other half of him was horrified by their awful performance. Catching rabbits should have been easy. His bunny didn't even count as catching. The stupid thing came to him.
"Time's up," the brunette said. "Congratulations to those who caught a rabbit though I must say your overall performances were pathetic. You couldn't even catch more than one."
Mark wasn't the only one who shifted in embarrassment.
"Tell me, why did you fail miserably in this task?"
Mark couldn't help but feel he was back in class and facing a stern Professor McGonagall.
"We underestimated our task," the soft voice belonged to the same woman who questioned their instructor earlier.
"Precisely. Your first lesson, never underestimate your enemies. You were lucky I didn't charm them as rabid bunnies. Or else you wouldn't be alive right now." Mark shivered.
"They were only charmed to be similar to a Snitch." No wonder Summoning charm doesn't work.
"If you were fighting Aurors or Unspeakables right now, you'd be dead in a matter of minutes. Why? Look at yourself, only an hour of running and using spells, and you are wheezing for breath. Raids lasted for hours and sometimes overnight. Your stamina's are weak and you used spells recklessly. Your magical cores are not bottomless meaning you have limits. So, think before you act and do something about your stamina."
Mark shuffled his feet. He did use a number of spells carelessly.
"Next, your wand aims are pitiful. In duels, your opponents maybe standing still, but in battle do you expect them be a sitting duck? No, they will be moving around. Predict your enemy's trajectories and then aim your spells."
"Sir," Mark had to ask. "I doubt we have the time to plan our strategies and calculate our spells in battle."
The white mask turned to face him and Mark squirmed under his gaze. Damn it, he shouldn't be afraid for voicing out his thoughts. For Merlin's sake, he was being honest for once.
"Yes, when you fight, you don't have the time to think. It's either act or die. Only your instinct will save you. And that's what I'll be drilling into you, the ability to act in a split second."
Mark couldn't help letting out a sigh of relief. He thought he would get his head chewed out. On the other hand, he was glad he was in this group even if it was number thirteen.
Dumbledore fondly watched the Order members with twinkling eyes, from the clumsy Nymphadora who was enthusiastically talking to an amused Charlie Weasley to the silent and broody Kingsley. They are the future generations, those who will lead the Wizarding world. The sound of bell chiming caught his ears, and with a flourish he stood from his seat.
"Ladies, gentlemen, please," said Dumbledore. "We will begin our meeting now."
The chatters quieten as people took their seats and focused on their leader. The look of utter devotion on their face seemed to weight a ton on his shoulder. They trusted him to lead them to peace and the least he could do was defeat the Dark Lord although the one who will deal the final blow will not be him. Dumbledore brushed his thoughts away, he could dwell on them later, but now he had a meeting to handle.
"Welcome, wizards and witches. Before we start, I would like to welcome two new members into the Order officially, Miss Fluer Delacour and Mister Jeffery Mereng." A round of applause and calls of welcome were heard.
Dumbledore smiled and the twinkle in his eyes brightened. "I am also happy to note," he continued. "For the duration between our last meeting and now, we did not lose any of our members." A loud applause accompanied Dumbledore's words.
"Wat does 'e mean?" Fluer asked the red haired beside her.
Bill Weasley smiled although it was a bit grim. "Every time during an interval between meetings, ever since the Order was established, at least a member was killed. More when there were raids. Don't worry. It's not always like that. Some managed to survive," he added hastily as the half-Veela's face paled.
"It's not as bad as it sounds. We –" He broke off when Dumbledore started to talk. Guilty engulfed him at Fleur's ashen face. He would make it up with her later, he promised himself as he focused back to the Professor.
" –lives were lost during the raid in Lancing. And on the same night, the Ministry detected an intrusion. Kingsley will brief you more about the incident."
With a brief nod towards Dumbledore, the Auror stood.
"The Department of Mysteries was intruded," he said bluntly. An uproar. Kingsley waited patiently for it to die before continuing. "The only evidence we managed to gain was the destroyed Fountain. The Unspeakables verified something was stolen from their department but they have been tight lipped about the object and no rumours were leaked. The Aurors wasn't notified of any capture or details of the perpetrators although I managed to glean there were only one intruder."
Kingsley finished his report and sat as whispers rose among the members, speculating the news they received.
"Thank you Kingsley." Dumbledore drew back attention towards himself. "The Department of Mysteries held various artifacts and objects that are invaluable. It could be anything that was –"
"A prophecy," Remus interrupted and all eyes were on him. "A prophecy was stolen." He looked directly into Dumbledore's eyes, ignoring the questions thrown at him. It was the prophecy, Albus.
Dumbledore paled. The timing of the raid and the intrusion was not a coincidence then. Only Tom, Severus, the Longbottoms and he knew about the existence of the prophecy. His eyes harden as he realized the consequences of the full prophecy in the Dark Lords' hands.
"Silence," Dumbledore said with a grave face. "Please do not ask where Remus gained this information. I believed what he said and this clearly brought things to light. The raid and the Ministry's intrusion was not a mere coincidence. The Dark Lord was behind this and now, I suspected his new victim will be Neville Longbottom."
Silence befell the members.
"Sixteen years ago, a prophecy was made. A child will be born and he will have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord. At the time, the prophecy refers to two families, the Potters and the Longbottoms."
A gasp was heard.
"Since, young Harry is gone, the only person left is Neville Longbottom. Since the prophecy is in Voldemort's hand, I expect he knew the other candidate is Neville and will aim to eliminate this threat."
"So, you're saying the Longbottom boy can defeat You-Know-Who?" Emmeline Vance asked, her voice low but carried throughout the meeting room.
"My son will not be defeating anyone!" Frank Longbottom's voice was hard and sharp. He will not involve Neville in the war.
A few Order members rose out of their seats as chaos erupted. "Your son has the responsibility! Are you going to be a coward and let people die for the sake of his innocence?"
"How dare you-"
BANG!
Dumbledore had his wand out, successfully gaining every members attention. "Please, be seated." And the members grudgingly took their seats. "The full requirements of the prophecy have not yet been met. Thus, I can say Neville doesn't have the power to defeat Voldemort yet. For now, he is safe at Hogwarts. No one will be doing anything and Neville will remain at Hogwarts, the same as other children."
Dumbledore surveyed the wizards and witches in front of him. Frank looked relieved but a few wizards muttered their disagreement, believing the child to be trained as soon as possible. However, no one voiced out their disagreement.
"Now, on to the other matter, Voldemort had sent missives to the vampires and werewolves, seeking their alliances."
"What?"
"Why now?"
Dumbledore held his hand up and silence befell them again. "I already expected this and I've taken some steps to ensure he will not have this alliance. However, if worst comes to worst, I urge you to learn to defend yourself against vampires and werewolves. Remus, I hope you can reach the werewolves pack in London and persuade them." Remus nodded.
"Frank, now is the time to pass the law," said Dumbledore.
"I'll assemble the Wizengamot then."
"Thank you. The others will continue as before and if you have any emergency, owl or Floo me. I will be available at the Headmaster's office, Hogwarts. Anymore reports to be given?"
Head shakes.
"Well then, I thank you all for coming tonight. If you want to stay for the banquet, I would gladly love the company. But for now, we dismiss."
Severus Snape was carefully pouring some black substances or commonly known as Black Sands into the bubbling potion from a small vial, meticulously counting each grain of sand. It was a tricky operation and he was glad he got some time off from teaching to finish this particular step.
The door slammed open and Snape reflexively took out his wand and aim an Entrails-expelling Curse at the figure filling the doorway, letting out his killing aura. His spell was dodged.
"What do you want, you imbecile?" he practically hissed, venom present in each syllable.
x-x
Harry slammed the door to the potions lab open as usual. However instead of the usual Stinging Hex, an entirely new level of curse flew towards him. It was only thanks to his reflexes that he was saved from disembowelment.
"What do you want, you imbecile?"
Harry looked at the fuming Potions Master. Crap, he thought, he was so used to slam the door open in his world that he forgot, this was not the Severus he knew. He was glad he wore his mask right now, or else Snape would have made his life hell if he recognized this face. He didn't doubt the livid wizard in front of him will find every opportunity to poison him. Severus Snape could hold a grudge that would have made even Lucius squirm, he thought and shuddered. Time for damage control.
x-x
"My apologies, sir. The Dark Lord requests a dozen vial of Blood Replenishing Potions, and a few dozens of Pepper Up Potions immediately," the Death Eater bowed.
Snape glared at the black haired boy in front of him, he was too short to be a man yet. A new recruit? "And how did that stopped you from knocking on a door?"
The boy shifted in what Snape assumed was guilty or stupidity.
"The Dark Lord ordered for his potions immediately and he was in a… terrible mood?" The new recruit said hesitantly.
Severus held back a sigh. Yes, he understood the boy's haste. Their Master could be very merciless when he was in one of his moods. But that didn't mean he would forgive the boy for interrupting him in the middle of a delicate task. He gave another death glare at the Death Eater, pleased to see the blasted man fidget before heading to his shelves and grabbing the vials his master needed.
He placed the vials into a box, specially made to fit in potion vials and handed them to the waiting boy.
"Here," he said roughly and looked through the slits in the mask, directly into the eyes of the boy. "And if you ever do that again, I will personally make sure you never leave this place in one piece."
He received a frightful nod and Snape proceed to slam the door in the Death Eaters face. As he turned back to his ruined potion, he mildly wondered if it was Lily's eyes that looked at him through the slits. The thought lead him to the injured boy he healed some time ago. Could they be the same boy? If it was true, no wonder the boy was clueless of how the way things run here. Bloody new recruits.
Harry entered the Study Room, giddy with his success of escaping Severus's wrath and took off his mask. Surprise filled him when he found Voldemort scribbling away on a piece of parchment. He thought the Dark Lord would be in the Throne Room already and now that he noticed, since last week, his father had spent most of his time at his desk. 'Was it because of the paperwork?' Harry thought.
"What are you doing?" he asked as he peered over the desk to take a look at the parchment. It was full of runes and circles and squiggles.
Instead of answering him, the Dark Lord asked him, not even looking up, "What do you want?"
Harry leaned away and shrugged, he shouldn't have bothered asking. "I want to borrow a couple of weapons."
He walked to the bookcase that took over the whole wall and hissed, "Salazar's pride."
The rack shimmered then vanished altogether showing a glass case. Weapons of various origins lined up the wall; wands, daggers, knives, swords, and even a scythe.
The glint of a dagger caught his eyes and a smile came to his face, it was one of his secondary daggers. The one he lost. Harry took the small blade and slipped it in the holster at his leg. He surveyed and a grabbed a few more dagger and knives, tucking them in to various places. Should he bring a sword too? It would certainly be easier to kill a vampire. A simple beheading would be enough. Harry took off the beg he bought at the Alley, grabbed a few more daggers, shove them in to the bag and tested the swords. 'Which one? Which one?' He pondered and shrugged, just take some. Who knows, maybe he'll use all of them.
"Is there a reason you're emptying my weapon stash?" A voice sounded in his ears, Harry turned around and immediately faced a handful of black robes. He hastily took a step back. He was so immersed in examining a sword that he failed to notice Voldemort had approached him from behind.
"Huh?"
"Is there a reason you're emptying my weapon stash?" Voldemort repeated the question, his face expressionless.
Harry looked at the glass case: only a dagger left, half of the knives were gone and a few swords as well, all in all, he had emptied half of the collection. He smiled sheepishly. "Oh."
The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow. "You're going to an Alliance meeting, not a battle." And wandlessly he summoned all the weapons in the bag, placing them back on the glass case.
"Wait," Harry protested. "There are vampires. A bunch of them! What if they attacked me? How am I supposed to defend myself? I need those extras!"
Voldemort ignored his paranoid Heir. He eyed the black haired boy critically and mulled over the choice. The boy slight build were made for speed and the sword that was light enough for him would be a katana, a scimitar or something similar. Knowing the brat, he would prefer katana. He looked at his katana collections. His Heir wasn't as tall as him, so a medium length one would suffice. He took one, handed it to the now silent brat and held his hand out.
"Give me your pendant," he ordered and took out his wand.
Harry handed his necklace wordlessly, his protest died down in turn for his curiosity while his other hand gripped the dark green katana tightly.
Voldemort suspended the necklace midair as he murmured a string of incantation, twirling his wand around the crystal. The phoenix teardrop glowed as silver mist began to swirl around it. The Dark Lord finished his spell and the smoke condensed into a snake. He scrutinized the pendant before handing it back to his Heir.
"What did you do?" Harry asked. Instead of just a teardrop, a black snake was now coiled around the crystal.
"Vampires are known for their wards and their knowledge. If anything happens, the pendant can break through their wards now."
Harry smiled and put the chain around his neck. "Thanks."
"Refrain yourself from killing anyone and do not lose any of my daggers."
Harry just grinned, reading the warning in his father's voice clearly. "No worries. I won't lose them."
"Slytherin's honour," hissed the Dark Lord and the glass case shimmered out of existence, replaced by the original book rack. He grabbed a thick book, one he was very familiar with and shoved it into the brat's chest.
Harry eyed the book, Basic Runes. He looked questioningly at his father.
"Read it." Voldemort ordered.
Smiling, Harry proceeded to stuff the book into his bag, along with the potions box. "Anything else?" He asked.
"No."
"But what about my pocket money?" Harry blurted.
Voldemort's hand twitched, itching for his wand. "Get out," he hissed.
"But –"
"Out."
Harry donned his mask and ran out of the room, snickering. He loved to rile up his father.
Voldemort returned to his desk, irked and ready to curse anything. He studied the parchment he was engrossed before he was disturbed by the brat. His calculations were correct and flawless, but the question of success or not was still unknown to him. He kept the parchment inside the drawer and locked it. He will test it next time, now he had Death Eaters to send away.
End of Chapter 9
EXTRAS - EXTRAS - EXTRAS - EXTRAS - EXTRAS - EXTRAS - EXTRAS - EXTRAS - EXTRAS - EXTRAS - EXTRAS - EXTRAS - EXTRAS - EXTRAS - EXTRAS
Short story 1
"Welcome to Lincoln Hotel," Dumbledore smiled. He remembered the majority of the members' reaction when he first made a meeting in a Muggle hotel, sixteen years ago.
Flashback
"Albus, before we begin, might I ask why we are having a meeting in the Muggle world? Much less, a conference room in a hostel?" asked the Transfiguration Mistress.
"Hotel, my dear Minerva. In fact, it's the Great Central Hotel."
"The point is," she stressed. "We don't know if we can trust these Muggles and is this place safe or not."
"I agree with Minerva. I didn't know you're losing your touch, Albus," interrupted Alastor. The other members were also quiet, intending to hear the reason behind this new development by their eccentric leader.
Dumbledore chuckled. "Don't worry. This would be the last place Voldemort would think of. He underestimated Muggle and despised everything that had to do with them. Better yet, he couldn't threaten any Order family members to give up their house's location."
The other members nodded. True, You-Know-Who had attacked their family, especially those who had regular Order meetings in their house. If it means their families are safe, then they will just have to get along with their leader going bonkers. In unison, they sighed.
Short story 2
A nine year old Harry was standing beside his father in the Study Room. This was the first time he was introduced to his fathers' private collections. His eyes were wide at the shiny objects in front of him. He never thought his father kept a lot of beautiful daggers, he was looking closely at a pair of daggers that caught his eyes.
"Choose a pair, Harry," said his father.
Harry smiled happily and immediately made his choice. He was attracted to them from the beginning. It had silvery blue blade and vines swirled around the hilt. He took the pair and grinned at his father.
Voldemort nodded and hissed, "Slytherin's honour."
The bookcase shimmered back into existence. Harry was giddy with his gift but a thought suddenly entered his mind.
"Father, why did you use Salazar's pride and Slytherin's honour as passwords?" He asked, head tilted to the side.
Voldemort sighed. "Will you ever talk about Slytherin's pride and honour with me or Nagini?"
"No." Harry shook his head. What a boring topic. He would be dead asleep before he even heard the first sentence finished.
"Then you have your answer."
"Oh." Harry realized. So, he couldn't accidentally open the weapon case. But then, his face scrunched up. "Then why didn't you use–" And the nine year old proceeded to quote a long list of expletives. "–I hardly use them when talking to you or Nagini," he finished.
A frown appeared on the Dark Lord's face. "Where did you learn those words?"
Harry shrugged. "From Bella, Rookwood and Mulciber."
Voldemort hand was itching to grab his wand and curse his minions to oblivion. "From now on I forbid you to use those words."
The small boy nodded although his face was filled with confusion. "Okay."
"Good. Now go and practice your new daggers. I'll be there shortly." The Dark Lord watched his Heir walked happily out of the room, previous thoughts vanished at the aspect of training with his present. The bookcase held his attention for a moment. Yes, those words weren't used by Harry but it wasn't the boy that he was worried to accidentally open the weapon case. It was Nagini.
A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed and special thanks to Red Bess Rackham for the encouragement and and CharlotteParkinson, your review reminded me to start writing again.
To frokwears : I'm sorry but the meeting between Harry and light side will have to be delayed. I can't promise when but it's going to be there. :)
I worked hard for this chapter and if there's any mistakes do tell, I'm blind to them. Please review! :D