Shadow in the Dark: Severus

After I had instructed Evelyn and Teri about what potions to give Jane when she awoke, basically a Nutrient Potion and another Pain Relieving Draft, I headed back out to Rochester Street. Before I left, Teri hugged me and said, "Be careful, Sev."

"I will. Don't worry, Dragon Lady," I said, and hugged her back. I felt like she was my younger sister, which was something I'd wanted growing up. "Don't go out of the house for any reason till I get back."

"We won't. Give those scum hell, Sev. And bring yourself and Gavin home safe."

"I intend to. Oh, one more thing. If Jane wakes up and wants to talk to you about what happened, let her. But if not, don't push her. She'll talk when she's ready." Teri promised she wouldn't ask any questions, unless Jane volunteered information on her own. Then I left, shimmering into my Animagus form as soon as I was behind a tree and concealed from any curious eyes.

I glided serenely overhead, in my falcon form, I could approach the mansion and not be remarked on. It was times like this that I thanked God that I'd been granted a winged Animagus form. It made covert missions like this so much easier. Flying was superb in my Stryker form, much better than a broomstick. And I didn't have to worry about some Muggle spotting me and having to get a Memory Charm put on them.

Although, I had to be careful not to stay in my falcon form too long, or else risk being lost within the falcon mind. That was the one drawback to shapeshifting. It was seductive, being in a form that had senses that were a hundred times better than your own, and being able to fly at over two hundred miles per hour, free as the wind. That was why Animagi were cautioned to spend only forty-eight hours at a time in their animal form before switching back to human again. An Animagus had to allow the animal he became to control most of the physical aspects of the form, like flight and heart rate and other things, though otherwise he remained aware of himself and his surroundings. Which is not as easy as it sounds, believe me.

The first few times I transformed into Stryker, I could barely fly fifteen feet, because I kept interfering with the falcon instinct and trying to control my flight with my human brain. I ended up knocking myself out of the sky as a result, and crashing into the ground. I was lucky I didn't break an arm or leg, though I did get plenty of bruises those first few times.

Minerva was monitoring me, though, and she brought along plenty of dittany salve, knowing that the winged Animagi are famous for injuring themselves learning to fly. I was grateful for her foresight, though at twenty-two, I was too stiff-necked to admit it. Though not too proud to use what she'd brought, for I needed to be able to teach classes the next day without being crippled from a wrenched back or shoulders.

But after a week or so of embarrassing myself, I managed to find the balance between my conscious mind and the falcon's and after that I could fly like a master. Minerva was very proud, she said I was one of the few winged Animagi she'd taught to master flying so quickly. But then, I'd had plenty of motivation, considering Stryker ideal for my spying duties, as well as providing a much needed stress reliever from a long day teaching, and also being able to sit down in relative comfort was a bonus too. She also told me that the only Animagi she'd known to master their animal forms as quickly were my old schoolmates, Sirius Black and James Potter. As if I wanted to be compared to the mutt and the obnoxious stag! Unregistered Animagi who'd risked their fool necks to play about in the moonlight with a werewolf. Idiots! That only firmed my resolve, and by the second week of transformation I was truly master of the skies, the shadow hunter known as Stryker.

Stryker had served me well during my years as a spy for Albus, and it would serve me yet again now, as I circled up above the mansion on Rochester Street. Even from a hundred feet up, my falcon eyes could detect movement and detail. I could spot a mouse rustling in the grass or a rabbit scurrying, for my eyes and senses were designed to detect prey from great distances. I had hunted as Stryker before, when I hadn't been able to risk transforming back to my human self while spying on the Death Eaters. And while I'd have been revolted at eating a mouse as Severus, Stryker liked it fine. That had been one time I'd been grateful for falcon instinct, otherwise I'd have starved or made myself ill. But once I'd allowed the falcon instinct to override my human scruples, I considered a mouse or baby rabbit as fine a feast as any I'd ever eaten at Hogwarts.

All right, Snape, quit thinking like a falcon and start thinking like a Dark Hunter, I reprimanded myself. I circled lazily on an updraft, allowing the wind to take most of the weight of my wings, keeping watch on the mansion. I didn't see any people coming or going, which was odd, for I would've thought they'd be livid at finding one of their prisoners escaped.

Then again, maybe they didn't care about Jane now that they had a better one, Gavin. Yes, that would make sense. Better the wizard in your hand than the Muggle in the bush. I circled lower, until I'd landed atop the roof. Then I walked across it and hopped down until I came to a window. Unfortunately, it wasn't open. I checked all the other windows, all of them were shut tight. Guess the bloody Brotherhood wasn't taking any chances.

I cursed silently, then decided it was time for me to infiltrate their headquarters. I flew down to a spot in the backyard that was overgrown with a large hydrangea bush and shifted back into my real form. Then I cast a Silence spell about me and called my Hunters on the spellophone, telling them I was about to penetrate the enemy camp, and to be ready to move in when they heard the spellophone chime on their rings. That done, knowing my backup team was primed, I canceled my Silence Spell and cast a quick Invisibility Charm about myself.

Then I unlocked the back door with swiftly muttered "Alohamora!" and stepped inside the mansion.

I found myself in some kind of kitchen, at least that's what it looked like. These were probably the servants' quarters, and I moved swiftly through the hallway and up a short flight of stairs to what I assumed was the main level of the mansion. Men wearing green and brown camouflage uniforms were walking past me, all of them looking alarmed or angry or concerned. I gathered from some of the comments that this was the first time their security had ever been breached this badly.

It made my mouth twitch into a reluctant grin. Here they were, a group that had existed for over two centuries and was made up by some paramilitary experts and whatnot and their wonderful security had been compromised by a mere apprentice, a clever ten-year-old scamp with more courage than sense. Gavin might know less spells than first-year student at Hogwarts, but what he did know he used to his fullest potential. He was as gifted a practical wizard as any I'd ever trained. It made me proud and at the same time a nervous wreck, for there was no telling what they were doing to him.

I prowled round the hallway, listening to snatches of conversation between the guards and other members here and there. I learned that the Enforcer, one Matthew Hawthorne, was not currently in the house, he'd gone out earlier with a team plus a new witch finder to hunt. That made my blood run cold, and I wondered who they had targeted, knowing instinctively it was too late to warn whoever it was. I damned them all to hell.

I would avenge them, if nothing else. But I needed to find out more about this witch finder. What kind of person was that? One of us who'd turned on their own and was contracted into helping the Brotherhood? I headed up a hallway with several portraits upon it of stern men in doublets and frock coats. Former ancestors of the damn society, probably. I sneered at them as I went by.

I cautiously extended my magical perception outwards, seeking Gavin's mage signature. All of us who are born to magic have a unique signature, sort of like a fingerprint, and it can be sensed by another wizard, if you are looking for a particular signature with your mind. Gavin's signature should have been easy to spot, here among only Muggles, it should have glowed like a star gone nova to my senses.

But I found no trace of him. Impossible. He had to be here. I searched again, and yet again, and could find nothing. I trembled, anger and fear threatening to overwhelm me. This was not right. The only way he could mask his signature from me was if he was so weak I could not feel him from a distance or, God forbid, dead.

I chose to think it was the former rather than the latter situation. In that case what had caused him to be so weak? Gavin was a strong wizard, he'd only overspend his powers working some great spell, and I knew that he hadn't done anything like that, we'd all have felt such a working. The only other things that could reduce a wizard's magical aura so perceptibly were a strong Suppression Charm, which Gavin couldn't cast yet, or a drug called midnight mushroom.

Midnight mushroom, ground into a powder, was one of the more addicting and deadly drugs in the wizarding world, as bad as cocaine and heroin were in the Muggle one. I'd had my people in narcotics trying to bust a large drug ring for years now, and my brother-in-law John Marciano was heading the team currently assigned to that little project. Narcotics was technically a separate branch from Intel, but occasionally Charlie Brandon, the Narcotics Chief, worked alongside me to bring in dealers and frauds. The way we were doing now. As Director, I outranked him, but in his own bailiwick, his word was law. We'd agreed long ago to stay out of each other's business unless joint cooperation was necessary-he knew how to do his job and didn't need me hovering over his shoulder. He sent me monthly updates on cases and I in turn gave him tips on this or that dealer I'd managed to scrounge up.

But Brandon apparently hadn't known that someone was supplying the Shining Path with midnight mushroom, a thing that should never have happened. Even the lowest wizard criminal knew better than to jeopardize our existence by doing such a thing, giving the Muggles a powerful drug that could destroy us. Such a thing was beyond heinous, and if I ever discovered the identity of the dealer, he was going to spend life in Inferno.

Granted, it took time for midnight mushroom to totally break down a wizard's magical core, months in fact, but even a light dose of the powder was enough to inhibit a wizard's magic for a time. If they'd given that to my son, his magical signature would be almost null. And given that they wanted a docile prisoner, that's probably what they'd done.

I needed to find him quickly, before the drug did some permanent damage to his magic. Children were particularly susceptible to it. I began opening all the doors near me, peering in them. All of the rooms were empty of occupants.

I had just finished checking a small bedroom when I heard two sets of footsteps coming my way. I quickly ducked into the room and shut the door nearly all the way. Even invisible, I was cautious, because I could still be felt or heard. The two men, who looked to be some kind of officer, were talking rather loudly.

"Can you believe that the little brat who tried to get recruited yesterday was actually Hawthorne's missing son?"

"Well, it just goes to show you, God moves in mysterious ways, doesn't it, Sanchez?"

"Guess so, but who'd of thought? I mean the kid's been missing for over ten years and then he shows up out of nowhere? Too damn freaky to be a coincidence, I'd say. Not only that, but the kid's also got that witch finder talent."

"What? I never heard that!"

"Yeah, I heard it from Corporal Richards own mouth, Hawthorne's son's a witch finder. That's why they're gone today, the Captain wanted to test the kid's abilities. Put him under dominaltride and took a strike team and went out hunting."

"Dominaltride?" repeated the other. "What the hell's that?"

"It's a drug that makes a person more compliant and obedient. That kid will walk through fire if the Captain ordered it, no questions asked."

"Why would he give that to his own kid?"

"Probably wanted to make sure the little bastard did as he was told. Who knows? He's the Captain, he doesn't need to give a reason."

"No, but it just seems strange, is all. I mean, if I'd just found my long lost kid, I'd not be shooting him up with drugs."

"Yeah, but maybe the Captain figures he can't trust the kid, seeing as he's tainted with that talent. It's not our place to question anyhow. Come on, we'll be late for dinner."

The two moved off down the hallway, leaving me gaping in astonishment at what I'd learned.

My son was related to that scum Hawthorne. The bastard was Gavin's biological father. And he was using his own son as a catspaw to hunt down wizards. Dear God in heaven! And all I could do was wait for them to return here, because I knew I'd never find the boy searching the streets on my own.

Salem might not be as big as Manhattan, but it was plenty large enough to get lost in and I couldn't afford the time it would take to put all my operatives on search detail. So now I'd have to cultivate a Hunter's primary asset, patience, and wait for the Captain to return with my son. Then he'd find out what it meant to be hunted all right.

I stayed awake for the majority of the night, using a quickly drunk Stimulant Draft to keep myself awake and alert. I dared not sleep here, surrounded by my enemies. And at forty-one, I could no longer pull an all nighter without being a zombie the next day. Those days of my youth were long gone, alas, as Albus would say. I slipped about the edges of the mansion, watching and learning the way the Brotherhood operated. I was the shadow in the dark, unseen yet seeing all. And I waited for my chance to strike back and bring these arrogant bigoted wretches to their knees and reclaim my son from the monster who'd stolen him from me.

My patience was rewarded at last when the front door to the mansion suddenly swung open and a tall dark-haired man who resembled Gavin greatly entered, followed by four other men in blood spattered uniforms. They in turn were trailed by another smaller figure, wearing a similar uniform.

My breath caught. My son was unbound, but he walked stiffly, and I saw with growing fury that somebody had left a mark on his left cheek. Had the sons of bitches started hitting him already? Worse still was the look in his eyes.

Gavin has very expressive large eyes, eyes that flash everything from laughter to annoyance to anger. But now those eyes were dull, expressionless, the eyes of an automaton, not a ten-year-old boy.

I couldn't tell if that was a result of the midnight mushroom or something worse.

Either way, I wasn't going to give Hawthorne any more opportunities to hurt the child. I hit the button on my spellophone, which would make the ring on Brady's hand ring, signaling that they should move in on the mansion.

Then I whispered the charm to protect myself from bullets and stepped from the shadows, removing the invisibility charm as I did so. I wanted Hawthorne to see who he was dealing with, the arrogant prick.

Hawthorne started when I appeared out of thin air, one hand going for his gun.

I sneered and yanked it away with a gesture. "Have a nice time burning and hanging innocent people, Judge Hawthorne?" I snarled. "Feed enough witches to the fire last night?"

"Who the hell are you?"

"You mean you don't know? God hasn't whispered my name in your ear?" I sneered. "The name of your greatest enemy? Maybe you aren't the Chosen One after all, Hawthorne."

He backed up a step, drawing another revolver. "Shut up, blasphemer! You profane this house with your very presence, Director. What do you want here?"

"Two things. My son and your hide," I snarled. I pointed my wand at him, ready to inflict some serious damage.

I expected him to duck or to fire at me. Instead he cried, "Johnny, get over here!"

And Gavin obeyed, coming to stand before him, his lifeless eyes staring up at me without any sign of recognition, right in the path of my curse.

Yes, I know another cliffy! Don't kill me!

Next: The final battle between the Brotherhood, Severus, and the Hunters. And will Gavin remember himself in time?