Flaming Dragon

November was starting, and there were whispers everywhere about some new pranksters, Fred and George style, who were quickly making the school a much less safe place.

Their favourite targets were Filch, Snape, and, strangely enough, Professor Dumbledore, who was constantly addressed as "Mr. Twinkles".

Ginny was sitting in the Great Hall, and hoping nothing would happen today. Nice and quiet breakfast, without her bursting out laughing, because somebody seemed dead set on making sure she always sprayed Harry full of Pumpkin Juice.

It had happened five times already, and it was dead embarassing.

Morgan waited for the right time to implement her plan. The perfect moment always was when breakfast was almost over, and Ginny Weasley was looking at her Dad, with her mouth full of pumpkin juice, because then she'd accompany her Dad to their quarters, and they'd talk, about this and that, and blush a lot.

She didn't quite know how romance between grown-ups worked, but she thought it was a good start.

She was pretty sure her Dad knew or suspected about her timing, but until now, he hadn't complained. In fact, he seemed pretty happy about walking besides Ginny.

Now, about her plan...

Nothing had happened so far, when suddenly, Ginny saw a gigantic dragon made out of fire.

This time, however, she managed not to make a spit take and spray pumpkin juice all over Harry.

Instead, she swallowed, her eyes fixed on the dragon.

It was giant, and on his surface she could see miniature chimeras and serpents forming, while it flew over her and the other people sitting in the Hall.
Fiendfyre. Someone with enough control over fiendfyre to give it such a well-defined form was using it to play a prank.

It nearly exploded her mind.

Fiendfyre was dark, evil and hard to control. To use it for a prank, a wizard had to retain his or her humanity while also being as deeply entrenched into the Dark as possible, and possess remarkable talent and skill in the Dark Arts.

It wasn't something she would have believed possible.

The dragon roared, and shot a flame at Dumbledore.

Okay, so this wasn't a prank.

She pulled out her wand, ready to duell whoever was doing this, when Dumbledore emerged from the flames, completely unharmed and totally baffled.
Then, the dragon flew over his head, and dissolved into writing.

It said: "Mr. Twinkles. Supporting Anti-Dark legislation since the Twenties. I have a right to live, as well, you know."

There it was, the glowing letters, hanging in the air, by someone who, according to his or her own words, wasn't allowed to live.

Who had written this?

Why?

And why would the headmaster forbid anyone to live? He'd always been a great supporter of creature rights... what did this mean?

She'd do her research as soon as she could.

"Uh, Ginny?"

"Yes?"

"So, I mean, I might not be full of pumpkin juice today, but would you still come with me?"

Ginny looked at Harry incredulously.

"If you want me to. Besides, we've got the same way anyway."

"Okay."

She accompanied him up the stairs. He was unusually quiet.

"So... do you have any idea what this means?"

"There's only one type of person Dumbledore ever supported legislation against without bothering to research or make sure he didn't hurt anyone. Believe me, I did research."

"Who is it?"

"So-called creatures created in Dark Rituals. It's not only not punishable but a requirement to kill them."

He sounded unusually bitter.

"Like inferi?"

"They are a type of such creature. But not the only one out there. Inferi, they don't think, don't feel, and practically are just extensions of their creators mind. But there are those that grow up, live and feel like normal people. They might be a tad more powerful, and might have more of a talent for the Dark Arts, but they still have been children, or, in some cases, are children. They're people."

He sounded definitively bitter now. As if he knew one of them.

Ginny stopped short.

Morgan... "Creature"... it would explain an awful lot if that Morgan was one of these. It would explain why Harry hadn't just taken her with him and left the Death Eaters, and why he was even now keeping everything about his living circumstances secret.

Because someone might die if he wouldn't.

She didn't tell him her conclusions, of course. She had a feeling he wouldn't like her speculating.

Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange were finishing their preparations.

They'd gathered as many Death Eaters as they could contact, had gotten as many useful implements as they could get on the run, and had spied out an unused secrect passage that lead into Hogwarts.

One person they had yet to contact was Lucius Malfoy.

Mike had found Morgan after dinner.

"Morgan?"

"Yeah?"

"What was that? The others said it was fiendfyre, but that's incredibly hard to control."

"It was fiendfyre."

"You're a Dark Witch?"

"As Dark as they come. It's in my blood."

"Mr. Evans, was he a Dark Wizard, too?"

"Yeah. Pretty Dark. He taught it to me."

"Dark isn't the same as evil, is it? Not like my dorm mates are saying."

"Nope. It can be used for pretty much anything."

"You know what, that dragon was totally awesome."

"Thanks."

They sat there, in silence, beside each other.

"Do you think your Grandpa can teach me one day, too?"

"I don't know. Gramps always said that I'm a prodigy, so I've got no idea when you'll be able to learn. But I could try teaching you Darkfyre."

"What's that?"

"Same as fiendfyre, but a bit easier to control and you can put it out with heavily enchanted water."

"Okay."

"Well, first, let's start with just normal fire, okay? The incantation is 'Incendio', and you wave your wand like this..."

And so, Mike Roberts learned how to conjure fire a few years ahead of the normal curriculum.

Dumbledore was very worried. He could not, for the hell of it, ever remember a single piece of legislation where he'd pushed for the right of execution for a sentient being. Inferi didn't count as sentient, after all.

And yet, he'd somehow managed to get an enemy that was powerful enough to control fiendfyre - using it was easy, the not-getting-yourself-killed-in-the-process part was what made it special - and, as well as that, left with enough of a sense of humour to play a prank on him.

It confused the hell out of him.

Ginny started reading up on rituals.

It took her a few weeks to find the ritual Harry had described, and it sent a shiver down her back.

The resulting babies grew up just like normal people, true, but normally, their creator would change something, like enhance their intelligence or affinity to the Dark Arts.

What worried her was that they were extremely loyal to the person whose blood had been used in their creation. There had been cases of Dark Wizards creating such children as weapons.

Dangerous weapons, because like every kid, they were not able to comprehend that doing as your father or mother said all the time wasn't always the best idea, especially when told to torture somebody.

She was pretty sure that whoever had played the prank was such an individual, who had a bit more morals than most.

The worst part was their life stories. Blood, evil, torture, she couldn't find any example with a happy childhood.

The practise had been given up, because their growing up took so long, and because they weren't the only ones who felt loyalty. It was equally reprocicated, which many Dark Lords had found uncomfortable.

But one was here now.

She wondered whether Dumbledore actually knew about the existance of this ritual.

AN: Okay, you know what's coming now.

squirmyorchid, I'm answering your question for everyone here, just in case someone asked him-/herself the same. No, Severus is not planning to become another Dark Lord. He's more worried about the Dark Lord coming back with a super-strong weapon they can't defend against, and everyone ending up dead, as no one has any idea whether the Dark Lord is still alive or not or whether he might come back with an ass up his sleeve. As the only one he can ask, he has to question Harry.

Now, thanks to everyone who reviewed, and, yet again, extra-thanks to TheBigCat for another OMAKE.

OMAKE by TheBigCat

Voldemort furiously clicked the screen and tapped at the keyboard. The animated character onscreen slashed away with its wooden sword as the other avatar came nearer, her diamond sword flashing in the MineCraft sun.
Morgan cackled victoriously from the other PC as she killed her granddad once more and picked up the spoils of war.
Tom Ridle had had enough. With a vicious snarl he sent an Unforgivable at his laptop.
"Um, Grandad? You can't Crucio a computer."