Disclaimer: Nothing of the Harry Potter series is of the owning of me. The only thing here that is possibly mine is the story and writing, but it is only mine if you like it, otherwise it is Fred's work... not mine... blame him. (Fred isn't a real person, just a voice in my head)
Note: I wrote this chapter in case I couldn't think of anything to write for my story's actual plot, so here it is.
5 Years Ago
Fredricksen and his partner Charles continued their conversation even as they apperated to their next assignment. Some kid had used underage magic and now they had to go figure out a proper punishment as the Department of Underage Magic does in cases of well... underage magic.
Their conversation was light and unrelated to their task at hand. However all conversation ceased as they both noticed what was in front of them at the same time.
The charred skeleton of a severely burned house with what looked to be a hole from a massive explosion in the side of it.
Fredrickson stood there amazed by what he saw, Charles on the other hand went from his usual cheerful self to full investigative mode, he had after all been on the Magical Accident Response Team for a number of years.
As Charles walked up to the charred remains he placed a spell on the building to stop its further collapse. Charles entered the house through the front door, which was suspiciously blown INTO the house not out as one would have expected.
Fredrickson finally snapped to and walked inside the house making his way to what used to be the living room and what was clearly the epicenter of the blast. He quickly surveyed the room and gasped when he found what appeared to be three severely burned bodies, and a fireplace that looked to be the cause of the fire.
Frederickson spun on his heels to get Charles when he noticed a blue shimmer under a fallen piece of the roof. Frederickson approached it cautiously and glimpsed what looked to be a small boy inside the forcefield which was emanating from the wand in the boy's hand that looked entirely too big to be his.
Frederickson moved the piece of roof off of the protective bubble and broke the shield with a tap of his own wand. He looked at the Boy's face deeply then bent down and took the wand from him as was standard procedure. Frederickson tucked the wand into his robe with the intention of giving it to Charles who was the senior member of this mission.
Frederickson checked around and sure that nothing was going to collapse on the boy turned and called to Charles, "Hey, we got something in here, looks like three of them got caught in the fire, and there is a boy here still alive, but unconscious."
Charles entered the room at a brisk walk with a stern face, Frederickson reached into his robe for the boy's wand to give it to his superior but thought better than to disturb him.
Charles moved quickly around the room taping the bigger pieces of rubble with his wand, when he did the edges and corners of them seemed to glow with a bright light of all different colors. Once Charles had hit all of the big pieces he stood in the middle of the room and started to wave his wand, all of the outlines of the rubble lifted above the rubble and, keeping their shape, began to move to their respective locations before the blast and fire.
Fredericson moved into the doorway between the living room and entryway as a particularly large piece of the rubble outline whizzed past him, then he thought, "Why am I concerned, they are only outlines of the rubble, made up of light." Frederickson continued to watch the master at work. He was amazed by Charles' ability to reconstructing this room. There were very few wizards who could do this kind of work, and all but one of them worked at the ministry, the last used this ability for evil and was sentenced to Azkaban.
Once the room was reconstructed in varying colors of light, Charles began manipulating the objects and adding the people that were here before, effectively he was looking into the past with the objects, and people in the room represented with light. Charles began motioning to move the scene along to the point he wanted to see, finally the scene froze with a boy sitting on the couch unwrapping a letter from the leg of an owl. Behind the boy appeared to be his mother and father looking lovingly down at their son, even though they were only made up of light Frederickson could still tell that much about them, they loved their son with all that they could muster. Frederickson (who disliked children, because they made him question his own ability to perform as a father if him and his wife ever decided to have kids) couldn't help but to want that kind of life. To have somebody to nurture and shape and to love that much.
Charles brought his arms down like a conductor starting a band, and the scene began to play as the boy fumbled with the letter on the owl. Frederickson looked over to the actual boy who was still lying in the corner. Frederickson's cursory examination of the boy indicated that he was merely unconscious and in no danger of injury. When Frederickson looked back at the scene the boy had managed to get the letter mostly off but was still struggling with the knot.
Just then the parents suddenly stared directly at Frederickson, it creeped the hell out of him, it was like they knew he was there. Then he realized they were staring at the front door on the opposite side of him, there must have been a sound out there that he couldn't hear since the scene did not have audio.
The father walked toward the front door to investigate the sound, as soon as he got to where Frederickson was he vanished. Apparently the projections could not stay coherent when they left the room. The mother looked after her husband and decided to take action, she guided the boy, who had just gotten the letter off of the owl, to the corner of the room and she pushed him behind herself.
The father reappeared directly in front of Frederickson startling the living daylights out of him. The father quickly strode to the mother and the boy and frantically said something to the mother that Frederickson could not hear. Both of them jumped as, Frederickson later inferred, the door was kicked down. A black figure appeared in front of Frederickson as he once again faced his new found paranoia and decided that he should step further into the room and off to the side. The figure approached the father slowly. The father shouted a few silent words and then began shooting spells at the newcomer. The figure deflected every one of them and continued advancing.
The father pushed the mother and son further behind him as the man grew closer, the father becoming more frantic with every step. The figure raised his wand and pointed it at the father delivering what Frederickson expected to be the Cruciatus curse. The father struggled against the invisible torture. Frederickson almost tried to stop the man before realizing that his efforts wouldn't help the father made out of light who was only reenacting a scene from this boy's recent past.
The father dropped to the ground, Frederickson knew he was dead even though the curse wasn't supposed to kill.
The figure admired his handiwork as the mother charged him, the figure didn't so much as turn away from his victim to grab the woman by her neck and lift her into the air. The man leaned into the woman and said something to her that made her stop struggling against him. She had accepted her fate, she knew she would die, painfully, and slowly. The man put his wand to her forehead and began doing something that would stick with Frederickson forever. He looked away as the soul was slowly taken out of this woman. He chose the wrong way to look as his gaze settle on the boy who was standing there shocked still clutching the letter that the owl had brought. The boy looked lost, unable to comprehend what was happening to his family and why.
Frederickson was startled by Charles as he turned to look at Frederickson, He had forgotten Charles was there. Charles gave Frederickson a look that said it all, how could anybody do this to a family who only minutes ago seemed perfectly happy?
Frederickson looked back to the figure as he dropped the mother next to the father and stopped to admire his own work. Then he crossed the room to the boy before he could even react. The boy was lifted by his collar as the figure gestured to his work. The boy proceeded to give the figure a good nut shot with his free foot. Frederickson cheered a little inside for the kid. The figure dropped the boy next to his father's corpse and his mother's empty shell. As the figure collected himself in the corner the boy looked deeply into his father's and mother's eyes, and found nothing of comfort left there to give him. Frederickson stepped closer to see what the boy was doing. The boy quickly snatched his father's discarded wand and stuffed it in his robe. Frederickson took that exact wand out of his robe and just let the fact that the wand he held was once in the boy's hands sink in for a second. Frederickson quickly stowed it back in his robe when Charles looked over to him.
Their look was interrupted by the figure gliding back to the boy and bringing the boy up to his eye level. The figure uttered something to the boy and began to draw his wand, but the boy was quicker. The boy blasted the figure square in the chest with an explosive curse that sent both of them flying. Frederickson noticed the scattered fuel from the fireplace catch the house ablaze as the still burning logs rolled into the curtains.
The room continued to explode around Frederickson as he looked towards the boy, he could see both of them at once now, the projection flew through the air towards his resting place as a brilliant sphere of light erupted from the projection's wand to protect him from the fire and debris.
Frederickson turned to see the whole house begin to burn now, and it would continue to burn until it had no more fuel consume and extinguish itself. This house would stand here cold and empty until Himself and Charles arrived to investigate some "underaged magic".
Charles, now done directing the re enactment, strode over to Frederickson and whispered to him out of emotional exhaustion, "Find something of the boy's past, happy, life to give to him, Lord knows he will need all of the help he can get to get back to life after this.", Charles looked at the part of Frederickson's robe that concealed the boy's father's wand, "I guess that the wand the boy used was destroyed in the fire, too bad, would have made some good evidence." Charles walked out of the house and onto the street where he mentally collected himself for their journey back to the Ministry.
Frederickson went over to the boy and picked him up, Frederickson looked deeply into the boy's eyes and decided that he would do anything in his power to make sure that him and his wife were the ones to adopt the boy.
Frederickson took the boy out to the street and nodded to Charles as they all returned to the Ministry.
A week later Charles retired, and the boy named Marcus was now in the care of Mr. and Mrs. Frederickson.