Chapter 5: The hunted
Paris.
Splayed, clawed tipped feet touched down as La Ville-Lumière (The City of Light), for the most part lay sleeping.
There was no sound; expect for the distant hum of traffic, as the creature crouched in a narrow alley that ended abruptly at the back of a cluster of shops. The shadows of the buildings around, casting many strange forms, in which he was careful to stay tightly within.
He relished the night and the emotions it imbued, his form blending so naturally with the darkness that he would appear as nothing more than one of its many fanciful creations. Should he have the misfortune of being seen, the threatening figures of shadowy shapes and the imaginative monsters and giants it falsely conjured, would allow for him to pass virtually unnoticed. Never the less, he could not afford to be complacent, for the sky's inky blackness was rapidly losing its edge. Day was fast approaching.
His journey here had not been an easy one. Arduously he had had to drag himself across many cities in his epic search, as the darker, agonizing aspects of his cursed cravings raged on. Forced to roam at the edges of social order, had made his quest an unbearably long one but no more. As here, beneath the vaulting gothic arches and acclaimed Parisian taste, he had finally found her. He smiled enthusiastically to himself at the thought. She had been like a phantom, always eluding his reach and forcing the chase, but miraculously for the first time, she had faltered.
Now all he had to do was wait.
Seconds ticked by and then minutes as his impatience began to grow, yet all the while he could sense his IT coming closer. IT was the most effective part of him, the part in which amplified his reputation of being a Hunter, lending credibility to that name. IT could pass through walls and any impeding objects with ease. IT was the reasons that made him a feared, yet priced rarity amongst his own kind, and it would be his IT, that would finally allow him to capture her.
An age seemed to pass as he stood there still and silent. Listening for any sound of IT's approach; despite knowing full well there would be none. Until at last, deep within the base of his groin, he began to tingle with expectation.
Without warning, a howling wind roared down the length of the alley, where moments ago it had been nothing more than a light breeze. The lights from the distant street lamps began to flicker ominously, threatening to go out and there; without sound or viewable approach, stood IT.
It was like a ghost; all menacing and black, caught between the half light of the vibrant city behind, and the half shadow of the desolate alleyway ahead. It stood there, motionless, as though rooted to the cobble stones. Appearing to possess neither movement, nor thought, nor breath. As the wind that dislodged bin lids and lashed at the creature awaiting it, failed to touch even an inch of his IT.
Then it moved.
Without preamble and as sudden as a whip lash, IT fell to the floor, where with a sickening swiftness oozed across the pavement like liquid given flesh, to be lost amongst the retreating shadows until; with an alarming turn of speed, it reared up before him, doubling in height then easily out-stripping that of his own. This was his distorted silhouette, an immaterial entity, the disembodied spirit. His soul if you will. Whatever the preferred name, IT was his 'Internal Tracker', returning now to resume their oneness and to relay back what had been found.
The air around seemed filled with excited anticipation, so palpable that it could be felt creeping along the skin. Could be heard in their breathless gasps. Soon, they would return to one.
Panting, The Hunter lent forward, exposing his abdomen. He always felt weak, feebler as the time of separation went on.
"Come to me." He ordered in a croaky voice that trembled with need.
Great orb white, pupil-less eyes widen in response; white sharp teeth, behind the slash that passed as IT's mouth, split as it gave a harsh bark of laughter, as a bolt of electricity fired between them both. The merging had begun.
It was then that the wind became even more erratic, whirling faster as though desperate to outrun their heady breaths. A whizzing, whipping frenzied maelstrom of power and noise, as the distant bells of Île de la Cité, rang out their distress towards this unholy defilement upon their land. It was a tolling malady, a fanfare of chaos, a maddening concoction of over stimulating proportions that they could resist no longer.
IT screamed! A wild, ear piercing, wail, screeched from his Internal Tracker, as it lunged straight into The Hunter's stomach. With a horrible squealing yell, The Hunter was knocked clean off his feet. Landing hard on the ground; desperately sucking in lungful's of air, as spasms of delight charged through his entire body. Small, white lights popping in front of his eyes, as he laid there dazed.
A warm breeze swept down the length of the alleyway. Trees rustled lazily and the mundane rumble of cars filled the air once more. The maelstrom had ended as abruptly as it had come.
On trembling knees, The Hunter managed to hoist himself to his feet; bestial limbs forced to stand, despite feeling on the point of fainting. He found himself struggling with consciousness; senses manically vibrating, at the bombardment of subliminal messages that his Internal Tracker feed.
"Yes." The Hunter moaned. IT had given him what he wanted. Had told him all he needed to know. Nihal had been here! Savoring the rush of sensations, his stimulation began to climb. Hot pulses spiking deep within, drenching him in sweat, forcing him to the brink of climactic release. Assuming The Oneness, always took him like this.
"C'est le vent." A loud, angry voice crashed out of the depth nowhere, as a light bloomed suddenly from one of the windows overhead. Tensing, The Hunter instinctively backed into the alley wall, retreating deeper into the fading shadows. Eyes streaming, he swayed, trying to focus on the intruding spot. There, leaning up against the window pane, stood a grim, grey haired, old man. His brows were drawn together in scowl, the corners of his mouth set into a stern, cold line. His eyes all the while were frantically searching. "Le vent!" The man shouted, clearly annoyed at having to repeat himself. "Le vent." He called once more; the light instantly flicking off, before he disappeared entirely from view.
Remaining completely still, minutes pass, before The Hunter was absolutely certain of the man's retreat. At which point, he growled in frustration, flushing both in mortification and anger. He had been careless. Carelessness was a thing for novices, something in which his long years and experience should have made him exempt from. Not only had it denied him reaching pure bliss, it had almost lost him the chase too. Detection was simply something in which he never intended to court. This hunt was far too important for that.
With his insides writhing in anger, he turned his attention instead towards the sky; to the smoky infusion of warm colours, as the sun began its steady climb over the distant horizon. The time for departure, was long overdue.
Extending his wings, he smiled to himself. In all his long years, he had never once lost an intended prey. He was not about to do so now. With the reassurance of such knowledge, he flapped his vast, midnight wings and launched himself into the sky.
AQUITTED OF ALL CHARGES.
Entitled the story on the front page of The Daily Prophet's later version; The Evening Prophet, underneath of which followed a caption of the ever arrogant Malfoy family.
"Of course the whole thing was a sham to begin with." Mr. Weasley exclaimed in tones of great dissatisfaction. "Fudge only brought it to trial because Dumbledore pushed the matter. After that it was a case of be seen to be doing the right thing, or else encourage more talk about his worthiness as minister." He sighed deeply. "The pity is people will believe him for as long as it's reasonably possible to."
"Why's that dad?" Ron asked, a puzzled frown crinkling his forehead.
They were sat snug around the Weasley's kitchen table, Mrs. Weasley having once again out done herself by providing a splendid array of homemade food for them to tuck into. Tonight's delicious creation had been homemade chicken pie, roast potatoes and peas, promptly followed by an ample helping of rhubarb crumble and ice cream; of which Harry had already devoured two helpings and was steadily tucking into his third.
"People just don't want to think about the alternative. If Fudge is wrong about this, then perhaps he's wrong about other things too. Until eventually, we get to the part that people fear to be true above all else."
"Voldermort." Harry finished for him, as a gasp rang out around the table, upon mention of said name.
"Don't say his name!" Mr. Weasley scolded, before taking a calming breath. "But yes Harry that unfortunately is the reason."
"How much evidence do people need?" Anger infused Harry's entire body at the thought of how stupid the entire wizarding community could be. The result of which causing him to slam his spoon down onto the table, as a splattering of ice cream and rhubarb pieces flew quite spectacle across the worn surface. The rest of the room immediately fell silent. "The weather! The disappearances! Cedric Diggory!"
"We know Harry." Hermione pleaded. She had arrived at the Weasley's three days before him, a factor in which Harry had never really understood why it galled at him so. Now however; as she continued, he wished it were that emotion that troubled him, not this ever increasing pool of shame that Hermione often had a way to making him feel. "Please Harry. I wish you wouldn't take it out on us."
"I wasn't tak..." He tried to plead, but Hermione; as ever, ploughed on.
"Mr. Weasley was only trying to explain what's plain for everyone to see. As long as there's uncertainty, people will find any excuse not to believe."
"I know." He really wished Hermione wouldn't do this. He felt completely foolish now, it didn't help that he thought he actually deserved to. "I'm sorry." He said to the table top, too ashamed to look anyone in the eye. "It's just." He whispered disheartenly. "I should never have done it. I should never have done that bloody interview." He was so angry, so upset that he had never felt more lost. "All it's done is given Voldermort the perfect opportunity to make me look a fool."
"Whatever the outcome Harry." Hermione scolded. "The truth needed to be put out there." She would say that. It had been her after all, who had convinced him to do the interview in the first place. He frowned at her to show what he truly thought about that, and was rewarded by a steady blush rising in her checks.
"Hermione's right Harry." Mr. Weasley soothed. "Whatever the outcome, the truth is out there now. That truth will eventually allow people to see the right of things in the end."
"What use is later?" Harry exclaimed feeling absolutely dreadful as he turned grim faced to Mr. Weasley. "The things Voldermort will be able do! It's now that they need to believe."
The sneer that Dolores Umbridge had managed to retain throughout the entire duration of the trial, faltered slightly, as her gaze was suddenly attracted by a covert display unfolding before her. The Minister and Lucius were still heavily locked in conversation, after what could only be called a farce of a trial. Now having accompanied her to her office, Fudge had all but dismissed her with an air of conscious superiority that she neither cared nor was offended by. Instead she simply combated it with an inner pride of her own, that she hid behind a semblance of humidity. If her suspicions were correct, Cornelius would not be so smug for long. Perhaps given what she was certain was coming, and what she herself planned. Then she, Dolores Jane Umbridge, may very well find herself in such pride of place as Minister for Magic itself.
"Oho." Fudge exclaimed, rocking backwards and forwards on his toes. "Yet another cock-and-bull story designed by Potter foiled."
She was only vaguely lending her ear to their conversation, though she had gleamed enough to understand that the Minister was apparently pleased with himself. It made her sick that such incompetence was awarded with so much power.
Shaking her head, she sighed mournfully, turning her scrutiny towards the walls of her office, hoping that the extensive paraphernalia of all things she adored would settle the bitterness. Unfortunately the lavish decorations and ridiculously cute kittens, failed to distract her for long.
"Potter has always been Dumbledore's favorite." Lucius agreed.
Cornelius beamed at him with a kind of vicious satisfaction, as he hovered excitedly beside the wall. The fool actually believed that he had achieved some sort of victory today. It was pathetic. She longed for the day when he realised that he was stood amongst his betters.
Sparing only a glance towards the man she had once held with such high esteem and admiration, she began to feel the familiar bouts of sensations bombarded her, as her gaze settled on that of the taller of the two men. Like a woman dying of thirst, she indulged in a greedy stare that drank in the fine contours of Mr. Malfoy's strong frame. Ruthless and cunning; attributes that she greatly admired; he was a man who was not afaired to do whatever it took to get where he wanted.
"I doubt Dumbledore will have the nerve to try such a thing again." Cornelius gloated appreciatively.
Enough was enough!
"Hem, hem." All eyes turned in her direction. Feeling her throat tighten momentarily as her eyes caught Lucius's, she coughed fussily before proceeding. "I'm sorry to interrupt you gentlemen. So silly of me." Allowing a small, simpering laugh to escape. "But I cannot help but believe Cornelius that you might have misunderstood what today was really about."
"I am at a lost as to what you mean by that Dolores?" Cornelius frowned as he looked incredulously from her to Lucius.
"Could you not see what Dumbledore's true intentions were?" She pressed on in a voice of determined sweetness.
"Nothing more than a failed attempt at scare mongering." Still bouncing up and down, in that annoying fashion of his.
"He sat back and did nothing Cornelius. He kept quite because he had no plausible evidence against Lucius. The whole affair was nothing more than a ploy. A ploy used in the hope that you; and forgive me for saying this, that you would bungle the whole affair. He does not believe that you are capable of running the Ministry now that you have broken from him." Remembering at the last to hoist, what she hoped was a convincing look of anguish. The statement had the desired effect. Fudge looked as though he had been struck in the face, as he stood there frozen in mid-bounce, with his mouth dumbly hanging open. "Minister." She pleaded in her softest voice. After years of working in the Ministry she had discovered that harsh words and a dominating demeanor was not necessarily a recipe for success. "Today's antics are a great example. To keep so quiet, after pushing so hard? It certainly seems somewhat suspect. I think his aims are perfectly clear..." Surely even he would realize what she was getting at? Remaining silent, she watched intently as the Minister's flabby face struggled for comprehension.
"Preposterous!" Cornelius finally exclaimed, after what could only be described as a ridiculously lengthy silence. "Dumbledore wouldn't dare!" He dismissed with a wave of his hand, as he laughed with forced hilarity.
Leaping furiously from her chair, she slammed her stubby hands on her desktop, fighting the urge to seize him by the throat. "You stupid man!" She snapped.
"Dolores." Lucius warned. "Calm yourself. You don't want to get yourself into trouble now."
At the sound of her name from those lips, her anger quickly abated. Lust for Lucius entered her. It tested her patience and tempted her to do the most unacceptable things. Lust made her skin tingle and her body ache with wanting.
"No." She replied breathlessly, re-straightening a pencil that had been dislodged by her momentary rage from its regimental line-up. "I mean, yes you're right. Forgive me Minister." She croaked. "Forgive me. It's just...I cannot bear to see you used so." Wildly inventing with a sickly smile of forgiveness added as an after thought. "I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run." Meaning to do just that. "But you have allowed yourself to be exposed to a man, not only of great irresponsibility, but a man whose designs have been from the start, aimed at destroying you. He made you dependent on him, forcing you to doubt your own capabilities, and then taking away his support in the hope of watching you crumble."
"What are you saying?"
"He played you for a fool."
"But I cleared Lucius?" Blustered Fudge.
"To the eyes of the wizarding world, it looked as though you were on some sort of power trip. No evidence but the word of a boy, who has an obvious hate towards the Malfoy family. No reason to subject Mr. Malfoy to the ordeals of a trial, but for a man who has clearly lost his mind. It does not look good for you Cornelius." Addressing he with such a condescending tone, to make it seem as if he were nothing but a simpleton, or in the very least a young child.
"I cannot...that he would dare...He must be stopped!" It really was quite fascinating how quickly a face could turn so red.
"As I have been saying all along." Umbridge continued calmly, though her stomach flutter with nerves. This had to be handled correctly. "If you agree to the proposal that I drafted this summer, you can hit him at the source of his power. Hogwarts. He has twisted the minds of our children for far too long. He has plotted and schemed with the reassurance that the Ministry cannot touch him there. We must strike and strike now, before it is too late."
"I am certain that I speak for all parents alike when I say, we would feel much easier in our minds, if we knew that Dumbledore were being subjected to a fair and objected evaluation by the Ministry." Lucius interjected unexpectedly. "Many of us with our children's best interest at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore's more eccentric decisions." He continued in a voice positively dripping with sarcasm. "The appointment of the werewolf Remus Lupin for instance. Allowing dangerous half-breeds like Rubeus Hagrid to terrorize our children with beast he sees as nothing more than harmless pets, and if that were not enough! He employs the delusional ex-Auror, "Mad-Eye" Moody." He acclaimed with a snobbish show of bravado. "Who not only performed illegal curses in front of Hogwarts students, but actually preformed them on them as well! Need I say anymore Minister? Something has got to be done."
"He mocks you Cornelius." Dolores took up as she walked around her desk, coming to rest directly behind the Minister. "He has always done what he wishes with no fear of consequence. To the majority of wizards, you are nothing more than a puppet on a string."
"Surely it was plain for all to see, that I saw the trial as nothing more than a farce?" Fudge looked horrified, despite the fact that his voice was thick with anger.
"A farce it may well have been, but it was one in which you and you alone acted upon."
"I had no other choice, Dumbledore..." Amended Fudge angrily.
A small smile spread across her lips, as she patted the Minister on the shoulder. "You are the Minister for Magic! You should not have to answer to anyone." Whispering the last directly into his ear. He was one of the few men, her height allowed her to do so with.
As if in sync Lucius made his move. "Clearly he regrets not taking on the Minister's job after Millicent Bagnold retired. And this scare mongering about You-know-Who? Created I dare say, just to stir up trouble. No doubt in the hope that the wizarding community will flock to him, like he were their only saving grace." They were working together; the two of them, like a well-played chest game. A game in which the Minister was sorely losing.
"I think it's obvious what needs to be done." Unleashing her most softest, most sweetly girlish voice. "Let this be his punishment for spreading nasty, attention seeking stories."
"By thunder!" Fudge exclaimed.
"It must be so Cornelius. Not only does he support a boy like Potter who appears to be unbalanced, and for all we know, violent. He lavishes affections on a boy, who in the position that he is in, grossly undermines the trust that you have employed in him. Can we allow for such a man, who indulgences in these unhealthy relationships with his students, a free reign at Hogwarts?" There was a short silence in which the Minister frowned, eyes locked in a stare towards some unforeseen horror. "It would not surprise me, if he weren't trying to recruit our students for some sort of army. Dumbledore's Army perhaps."
"But-but-" Terror blazed on Fudge's face, as leapt backwards. "He wouldn't dare!" He yelped, practically choking on the words. "Then he has been plotting against me!"
"All you need do Cornelius, is to pass through my legislation." Refusing to ease up on the pressure. "This will not only allow the Ministry to finally achieve an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts. It will be a necessary step towards ensuring that you remain securely as Minister for Magic." There could be no mercy.
"Dumbledore will not make it easy." The last ounce of resistance seemed to ebb out of the Minister's body. His shoulders slumped as his entire posture bunched defensively.
"Dumbledore needs to be reminded, that even he is not above the law." She whispered triumphantly. "Well Minister?" Waving a hand impatiently in his face. "It is not too late to do the right thing."
Ogling her with a sort of horrified delight, Cornelius nodded. "Yes, yes of course." He eventually spluttered out. "Very well."
Smiling widely and admitting a little laugh. 'Check mate.' Dolores thought victoriously.
"You have done the right thing Cornelius. Hogwarts needs a High Inquisitor."
Watching the Minister all but stumble out of the room; she shook her head sadly. How had she ever thought of this man with such pride? It was saddening really, but useful.
"I think it a foolish mistake to underestimate Dumbledore, Madame Undersecretary." Lucius quipped as he seated himself in front of her desk. "However much I detest the man, I can acknowledge that he is a skilled and well accomplished wizard. If anything the more unstable he acts, the more concerned I become. For it is my belief that Dumbledore does not do anything, without considerable thought behind it."
"Are you suggesting that we do nothing?" Her blood pressure tellingly rising as she gritted her teeth and forced a smile.
"You will never hear me say that Dolores." There it was again, her name from those lips. The things it did to her! Cornelius had been a welcome distraction, now however, with just the two alone in the room; there was nothing to hold back her lustful cravings. She could actually feel herself begin to burn with arousal. Flushing, Dolores was thankful for her earlier bout of anger. If her cheeks were not red enough before, they were certainly flaming now.
Smiling benignly she offered Lucius her simple logic, as she ambled somewhat slowly towards her seat. The friction of her movement causing a wetness of wanting between her legs.
"We are just counter-scheming his scheming Lucius." Purring his name, as he merely offered her an amused nod in return. "I will need help." Desperately trying to order her thoughts. "Someone who I can be sure will not allow themselves to be intimidated by Dumbledore."
"Who do you have in mind?" He was playing with her; she could hear it in his voice.
"Oh you are a naughty boy." In the pretence of trying to find a comfortable spot, she began awkwardly grinding her thighs together, trying to ease herself of the sea of sensations that were rapidly building within her.
"You of course Mr. Malfoy." She had long ago discovered his dark secret, the one in which he had only just been cleared from, aand if he refused to aid her in this, she would result to whatever means possible to get him on her side. After all, Dolores had always considered herself to be a fortuitous woman and these advantageous combination of circumstances, were far too intoxicating to simply over look.
With times being the way they were, certain schemes were clearly beginning to be set into motion. It was only to prudent a time for her to start exercising one or two of her own. Necessary precautions were a must, if one wished to safe guard her own ideologies for the future. But there was always time for a bit of fun first.
"Me?" Raising his eyebrows in mock surprise.
Eying him slyly, she drank in the fine contorts of his strong, solidly built body. The deliciously cold grey eyes, set within a well sculptured face and framed; delectably, by waves of pale blond hair. She had a thing for powerful men, and Lucius Malfoy had it in droves.
"He has already tried his worst on you and failed. What better companion could I asked for?" Taking another deep breath, she watched as he contemplated the idea. The occasion presenting with it the perfect opportunity to once again satisfy the flames within her. Grinding her thighs together, she bit back the moan that was building in her throat.
"You can sedate your impatience." He quipped, watching her squirm on the chair. "I have made up my mind."
"Impatience?" Dolores thought bewildered. "Merlin's beard!" He thought her riddled with irritability. Embarrassed at finding herself in such a conspicuous situation, and a little relived that he had not quite grasped fully her predicament was; unsurprisingly, quite the sobering process.
"I will accompany you to Hogwarts."
Giggling like a school girl, she failed miserable to hide her blush. "Excellent. Dumbledore won't know what's hit him."