A/N: Please note the gore warning. It's got a lot of blood and death. If you read it, then don't blame me- it's clearly marked so that you can skip it. :)
Chapter 8
The slowly spinning disks filled with strange symbols seemed to mock Miranda Vector.
She let out an irritable huff, and turned back to her equations. It seemed that no matter what she did, the wards of the castle seemed quite determined to thwart her efforts. Things might have been better if only she knew what the hell the spinning disks were.
But the only thing she knew for certain was that if she tried to force them to change, they would turn from glowing gold to an angry red, and she would get a fucking migraine.
Great, now she was swearing.
Her mother would be appalled. Give her a lecture on how unladylike it was, then start going on about how she should forget all of this career nonsense and start looking for a husband, buy a townhouse, have 2.5 children and stay home to raise them like any sensible lady.
A shudder ran through her, and she reminded herself to get an early start on thinking of excuses not to go home for Christmas.
A brainwave hit her- what if she applied differentiation on three dimensions on the disks? After all, they seemed perfectly planar, but there was a possibility that not all the dimensions of the spells they were woven from were visible...
Instantly she rubbed out her previous attempts and started differentiating what she thought to be the equations... Yes! Something was definitely happening... the disks were spinning at such a dizzying pace that the symbols became a solid gold blur...
And then they flashed an angry red, moments before she felt herself being bodily thrown form the room in the stone corridor that surrounded Hogwarts, where the wards were situated.
She hit the ground hard enough to knock her wind out, and wheezed in a desperate attempt to get her breath back.
The disks it seemed, were appeased by the fact that her ass would be as blue as Aurora Sinistra's eyes tomorrow, and did not inflict another migraine on her.
It was ridiculous! She was an expert arithmancer! She should not be bested night after fucking night by a horde of strange spinning disks! She would not stand for it!
Storming to the archway that led to the wards she was halted as she landed once more on her ass- her momentum having been broken by an invisible barrier which had sprung up.
That was the last straw.
"LET ME IN YOU STUPID FUCKING DISKS! I WILL DEFEAT YOU IF I HAVE TO FUCKING RIP ALL OF YOU FROM THE VERY FABRIC OF THIS CASTLE! I WILL DIG THE LOT OF YOU FUCKERS UP AND THROW YOU INTO THE DEEPEST DARKEST PIT I CAN THINK OF! I KNOW YOU LITTLE SHITS CAN HEAR ME! OPEN UP!"
"Really, Vector. People may begin to think what little brains you had have evaporated." A silky smooth voice came from behind her.
Miranda started, before turning a vicious scowl on him. "Shut your mouth you slimy, sewer breathed, dungeon dwelling dimwit! Why do you always seem to turn up when I don't want you to? Of course, it's because I never want anything to do with a Death eater!"
Had Miranda had any sleep in the past week, she would never have been able to come up with the right insults. She may also have seen Snape's expression shutter closed like a set of Muggle blinds.
Luckily any insult he would have thrown her way was stopped by the appearance of the Headmaster. For Severus Snape would have flayed her alive with his tongue. As it was, he merely sneered at her, and disappeared in a swirl of black robes.
The Headmaster watched him leave with a strange look on his face. Then he turned at Miranda, taking in her frazzled state, her frizzy hair and the sheer amount of chalk that covered her.
"Now, now my dear. There's no need for such a fuss. Come, I fear you have been overworking yourself. Let us get you up to bed."
"Albus! Have you forgotten that the other schools are arriving in a week?"
"I have not, Professor Vector. However, I must insist you go to bed this instant." The command in his voice was clear.
Miranda shot him a dirty look before she shouldered past him and headed for her rooms.
When she finally got there, she entered and immediately greeted by the huge stack of papers she still had to grade. She'd gotten too far behind, and Granger was starting to give her reproving looks. Well, fuck them. She had a lot on her plate right now! She wasn't some machine dammit!
The sound of her portrait opening shook her from her murderous thoughts.
Aurora Sinistra blinked at her. "Well hello there stranger. I thought that you would be spending yet another sleepless night with your beloved wards."
"SHUT UP! Shut the fuck up! I keep trying and trying and trying and trying and all I get is shit and contempt! And Snape! Don't even get me started on Snape! And Granger, with her looks! I hate my fucking life! They're all laughing at me!"
Aurora lifted a brow at her. "Feel better now?"
"Not really." Miranda sighed as she slumped bonelessly into her tub chair in front of the fireplace.
"That would be because you haven't slept in two weeks. Relax. I'll draw you a bath, and then you can go to bed."
"I can't do that!" Miranda protested.
"Look, Albus probably sent you to come get some sleep. The wards will still be there tomorrow, but you made a third year cry. That's Snape's job. Not yours. I doubt he'll be impressed you're stealing his thunder."
Miranda gave her a weak smile. Aurora gave her a smile of her own and headed for her friend's bathroom.
"You know," she started as she opened the tap, "Snape does seem to cross paths with you a lot. I mean, you know, it's like he keeps tabs on you. And I believe his insults are rather more... creative when he's with you. Not that he isn't usually creative. That man loves his insults. But the point is... oh, I'm just going to say it. It kind of reminds me of when little boys pull your hair, you know? And Merlin knows that man is emotionally stunted enough that that would be his preferred method of showing attraction.
In short- I think Snape likes you. A lot."
Silence greeted this statement.
"Miranda? Have you fainted? Mir- oh!"
Miranda Vector was fast asleep in her tub chair. Aurora smiled at the sight.
"Ah, this is a conversation that can wait."
She took the throw from the back of the couch and covered her friend with it. Then she let herself out quietly.
HP-BaB-HP
Darkness.
All encompassing darknes enfolded him.
And then... a bone chilling laugh as happiness flooded him.
A flash of himself in the mirror- red eyes and snake like features.
Voldemort.
Neville Longbottom sat up in his bed with a gasp.
Groaning, he fell back onto the mattress, and ran a hand over his face. A glance at the bedside clock informed his that it was currently 1:15 in the morning. Lovely.
His mind went back to the dream.
It was always like that. The dreams seemed to open a wound in his psyche, and he would morbidly keep poking it with a stick like the masochist he was.
Still. Voldemort being happy- that hardly bode well for anyone. Especially him. It was probably the prelude to another scheme to get him killed. Probably after long hours of torture. Snape would probably torture him. The greasy git would enjoy it.
Giving up on going back to sleep he opened his bed curtains. Stealthily fetching his broom from under his bed, he exited the dorm room and headed for the Quidditch pitch.
Even though he wasn't good enough to be on the Gryffindor team he still loved flying.
Malfoy had said in first year that if the giant squid could find a broom, it would look like Neville flying. But it didn't change the fact that nothing cleared the head like a good long flight.
As he kicked off, Neville continued brooding.
Sometimes he felt like this whole thing was never going to end. Whenever the next brush with death came along he found feared that all of his nightmares would come true. And he'd be paralyzed with fear. So he did the only thing he could- he shut off his brain and plunged head long into the whole bloody mess.
And then people would just clap him on the back and send him off for the holidays.
His fans would swarm him, and stare at him in awe. His Grandmother would throw fancy dinners and invite all and sundry to them to show off her brilliant grandson. The boy who defeated Voldemort.
The worst part, if Neville was honest, would be the fact that it generally wasn't him who really saved the day. No. That Potter shit would always appear just when they all thought that the day was lost and then he'd save the day.
Then he disappeared like mist on a sunny day.
Neville wasn't as stupid as he pretended to be. He knew he'd be dead at least four times if Potter hadn't shown up. The worst part was that he'd told Neville, in no uncertain terms in his harsh gravelly voice, that he only did it because Neville's dick-brained ideas were going to get Hermione killed.
It terrified him that if Potter wanted he could destroy everything Neville stood for.
If the truth came out... well. He doubted his Grandmother would still be so proud of him. He'd become a scandal. A huge turd on his family tree. Though he tried and tried and tried so damn hard! He'd never really been a foolhardy Gryffindor. The sorting hat had mentioned Hufflepuff.
Imagine the Boy-Who-Lived in Hufflepuff!
So he'd begged the sorting hat to put him in Gryffindor. Where everyone expected him to go.
And so the lies had started. He bullied Slytherins because that's what good Gryffindors did to slimy Slytherins. And he took out his frustrations on Potter because, dammit, he was the hero. He was supposed to save the day and have lady luck on his side. Girls were supposed to flock to him.
Potter simply gave him disdainful looks each time he tried. The only way to get him riled up was to mess with his harem.
And wasn't that just wrong? A Slytherin boy with no fame and hardly a knut to his name, who walked around in clothes that were obviously second hand, had a fucking harem.
He took a turn too quickly to prevent smashing into a stand that he hadn't seen in his musings and ended up falling arse over kettle onto the pitch. Luckily he had long ago learned to fly close to the ground.
Slow clapping drew his attention a few feet to his left.
"My, my Mister Longbottom. I had thought it impossible for you to become any less graceful, and yet you surprise me. Add to that your singular lack of intellect, grattitude and survival instincts and I find it a miracle that you are still alive."
Neville flushed angrily. "Look Snape...!"
"Ten points for disrespecting a teacher." The voice was smooth.
"Ten points!"
"Twenty for being out after curfew. Shall we add another thirty for backchatting?"
"No."
"Thirty for disrespect."
"No. Sir."
"Shame. I would have dearly loved to make a bigger dent in Gryffindor's point total."
With that the man turned his back on the outraged boy.
"Oh, and Mister Longbottom?"
"Yes sir."
"Forty points for your horrific flying abilities."
HP-BaB-HP
BEWARE- HERE BE GORE
Blood.
His skin was covered in blood. The boy in front of him had a stocky build and was wielding his knife with a maniacal grin.
No. Not this. Anything but this.
"Well, well. The little brat has come out to play." The older boy mocked his ten year old self. The knife glinted evilly in the light and younfer Harry's breath is coming in harsh pants. He has no knife with which to defend himself, because he was supposed to be safe here.
"No one leaves the Gryffiths and lives to tell the tale."
Young Harry shoots him a baleful glare.
No. Wake up damn it!
"Please, like I'd stay with a bunch of losers like you."
The other boy's nostrils flare, but young Harry doesn't care. If he's going to die he's going to die after having his say.
"I'm surprised you managed to find me. I doubt you could find your own dick."
"You little...!" The other boy lunges at him again. This time he manages to overpower the faster boy and straddles him, his knife pressed hard enough into the other boy's throat to draw more blood.
"You always had a smart mouth. Let's see if I can cure you of it, shall we?"
A light begins to glow in Harry's throat, and the other boy grins in sick anticipation. "There it is- your little voice."
Young Harry begins to struggle in earnest now, but the other boy is simply too heavy.
Then the knife plunges into the light and he's screaming.
The weight of the other boy disappears suddenly and he hears a voice growl.
No! No, no, no, no, no, no, please no!
Harry's eyes are drawn toward his saviour. A boy of about sixteen years, with a distinctive scarring on his nose. His blonde hair is shaggy and his blue eyes are hard with rage. Harry coughs and tries to call out to the other boy- because he knows that the rest of the gang's enforcers must be nearby.
No, damn it! I don't want to see this!
The stocky boy is unconscious, having been thrown into a nearby wall by the enraged werewolf.
And he knows what's coming next...
A gurgle from young Harry, and his saviour turns towards him, scrambling to get to him, kneeling next to him and pressing on his throat to try and stem the flow of blood.
No! Turn around Marcus, please turn around!
"Oh Merlin, Harry. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! Hang on pup, hang on. I'll get you to Maria. She'll patch you up. Shit! I should have pro-"
And then there's an arrow lodged in Marcus' throat.
The blood spatters onto Harry and he sees the surprise in the other boy's eyes as he falls onto Harry, a terrible gurgling accompanying his last few breaths.
Harry looks over Marcus' shoulder to see five more enforcers, one of them with a longbow in his hands and a smirk on his face.
Harry tries to shake Marcus awake, but his eyes are glazed and the heat is escaping his body.
With strength he didn't think he possessed he pushes Marcus off of him, getting to his feet and turning his green-eyed glare at the boys. They look so smug and self confident- as if the life they had just stolen meant nothing.
And then he's summoned the unconscious enforcer's knife to his hand, and he feels the rage building inside of him. His magic cause little whirlwinds to spring up all around and there's fear in their eyes.
They scream terribly when he paints the walls of the abandoned paint factory red with their blood.
Blood owed him for taking away the only true family he ever had.
And then it's all gone, only emptiness remaining.
"There, there now. Wake, Heir of the Lotus Tree. Wake."
GORE GONE.
YOU CAN OPEN YOUR EYES NOW.
And then he's awake and aware of the fact that he feels... lighter somehow. Despite the fact that it still hurt to think of that day.
He'd perched on top of a train, with Marcus' limp and cold body in his arms, taken him out to the country they'd planned on visiting together and buried him under a tree.
He went there every year.
Thanking the older boy for all he'd done for him. Marcus had gotten them both out of the gang, and promised him that he was meant for better things. If it hadn't been for Marcus he would never have attended Hogwarts and been dealing drugs.
"Good morning Mister Potter." Madame Pomfrey smiles at him as she puts a breakfast tray on the night stand next to his bed. "Now, let's see whether your magic has settled, shall we?"
She makes a couple of complicated wand motions above him, hmm'ing as she reads the results before she smiles at him again.
"Indeed it has Mister Potter! So you're clear to go back to classes. Now eat your breakfast. Wouldn't want to be late for your first day back.
Harry returns her smile, though he still feels an odd emptiness in himself. He wolfed down his breakfast and got out of bed- carefully making it- and changes into his school robes at a speed that seems to startle Madame Pomfrey.
"Well, you are an eager one. Right- remember what I said about controlling your magic. Especially in class!" The last part was shouted as he was already running towards the Slytherin common room. He still had to get his bag, since Madame Pomfrey had not allowed him to even think about school work in his two week hospital stay.
At least she had informed all of his teachers.
Still, his heart was pounding as he entered the common room and ran into Daphne.
"Wha-? Harry!" She smiled up at him as he gripped her arms to prevent the two of them from ending up on the floor.
Harry smiled back down at her. It was good to be greeted with a smile- and he had missed their usual routine. Hospital visits just never seemed as good.
"You look much better. Are you alright?" Still she was smiling at him, and his hands were still on her arms. Was he supposed to move them? It was nice to touch her, she had such soft skin, a stark contrast to his own callused fingers.
They were still staring at each other. Neither of them moving. Daphne's smile making him feel like he was finally seeing the sun after a long winter.
And then her eyes were fluttering and her face was moving towards his, or was he the one who was moving? He wasn't quite sure why but his body seemed to have a mind of its own, and it wasnted something to happen...
"GRYFFINDOR'S ARE OUR BITCHES!"
The two of them jumped apart, Harry's hands finally leaving Daphne's arms as he immediately went into a defensive stance.
"Oh, why, hello there. Sorry- I didn't see you there." Tracey smiled sweetly at the two of them. Daphne was glaring at her and holding her hand over her heart.
"Hey, Daphne, I need your help. Walk with me?"
"Yes, yes. Alright." Daphne snuck another glance at an obviously confused Harry and then darted out of the common room.
Tracey followed at a more sedate pace, waving her hand at Harry in farewell.
Well... that was weird.
Still, it was off to class he supposed. The mysteries of the female mind would have to wait.
HP-BaB-HP
The day had been a particularly hectic one.
After the entire incident with Daphne he'd been late for his first class- arithmancy. And Professor Vector had been a bit more absent minded than usual. She had bade them all to read a chapter in their text books and promptly sat down and started scribbling some horrifically complicated equations.
The rest of the day had been filled trying to play catch up to his peers after a two week absence.
And now he was dying for a smoke, but couldn't dare to smoke in any of his usual haunts. He'd been warned early on by Pansy that the teachers were being anal about their behaviour in the week leading up to the arrival of the other two schools.
Which sucked.
Breathing out harshly, he touched the wall in the hallway to the common room.
Please. I need somewhere to smoke. He pleaded with the castle. The castle sent back a disapproving feeling.
Please? I'll go stark raving mad with cravings. And that would be terrible.
Another moment of disapproval, and then an image of an archway and a stone chamber beyond it.
Thank you. He smiled at the castle- it seemed that the old building could never deny him a request. He didn't know whether she did it for all her inhabitants, but she had been his first friend when he had been intent on remaining invisible to the rest of the students. She'd shown him all of her secrets, and it seemed she was more than willing to continue doing so.
With one last thought of fondness he set off to the place she had shown him.
It took a little searching- the archway was cleverly hidden- but he finally found it. When he stepped inside he felt the cool tingle of magical wards. That threw him- was someone watching this place?
But no. Hogwarts would never try and get him caught.
Taking another step inside he found his breath catching in his throat. The place was huge. He couldn't see the end of the stone corridor as it curved on both sides.
And then there were the spinning disks suspended in mid air.
They glowed a warm yellow colour, spinning about their axes. Another step into the corridor and suddenly the disks were moving and glaring so brightly that Harry had to shield his eyes with his hands.
When the light diminished enough for him to see his breath caught in his throat.
Where there had once been multiple disks spinning on their own there was now a single large sphere of white- made up of all the disks spinning around a single axis. And there- projected above it all was a luminous tree.
A tree which had lotus blossoms on it.
Awestruck Harry moved towards it and extended his hand to touch the tree, just as he heard voices coming. Damn! He immediately headed further into the corridor, following its sloping curve until he came upon a doorway.
The corridor beyond it sloped upward and he followed it.
When he exited the next door, he was in Hogsmead. Well, that was another way to sneak out he supposed.
So busy was he with wondering about the spinning disks and the lotus bearing tree- because honestly, a tree?- that he didn't notice the stunning spell until it hit him in the back.
HP-BaB-HP
A/N: - Poor Harry. He seems to spend a lot of time unconcious. And oblivious. I love clueless! Harry. And poor Vector- I think she's cracking under all the stress. So she took it out on poor Severus. Pretty serious chapter this. Ah well.
Some notes on this chapter:
I don't mean anything by Vector's mother. I think she just wants her daughter to be happy. And as I will explain later in my version of Wizarding culture, women aren't really that career driven. I just see it that way because they're still stuck in a very archaic time frame.
As to Harry's memory/dream of killing the enforcers... Well. Now you know a reason why his dreams are always filled with blood. And why the gangs never bother him anymore. Why wasn't he arrested? The answer will come later.
Also, I gave Neville a spot because I think that too often we stuff people (or characters) into little cubby holes and keep them there. Neville will get a bigger role in the future, so it's important to know where he's coming from.
And lastly: the dreams of Harry's past are at an end! Now we'll get to know more about who the strange woman in his dreams is, and why he constantly dreams of a rural place.
Next chapter: major Harry whump! Voldemort makes an appearance and Vector swallows her pride. Stay tuned.