Chaos

Dusk had just fallen on the grounds, the fall night chilling the air. There was a party going down in the Gryffindor common, and almost everyone was enjoying it. Almost. In the confines of his dormitory, Harry flipped the book over he had found on his bed not an hour ago with a skeptical eye. He had checked for curses, hexes, and anything else he could think of. They called turned out clean, and yet he was still skeptical. Seamus had informed him that there was a book on Herbology on his bed when he had first come into the common room after the meeting. Only it wasn't a book on Herbology. It was a book on the Dark Arts. He sighed, falling against his headboard with a thoughtful gaze. The book called to him, and he could feel the magic swirling within its pages. Just one peak. That wouldn't hurt would it?

He stared at the cover. Black Magic: Theory and Instruction. He really didn't know what to think of it, but it just drew to him like nothing had before. Harry hesitantly took hold of the leather binding, biting his lip as he did. Just one peak. That's all he needed. Just a peak.

As he opened the front cover, a black mist poured out. Scared, Harry shut it immediately. His eyes were wide, and his breathing a little heavy. His hands shook slightly as he grasped the cover again, ripping it open as if there was some unknown force that was trying to keep it shut. The blast mist engulfed him, and something in his head seemed to split open. He screamed, the sound never leaving the dormitory he was in. His body thrashed, and he was soon lying on the floor convulsing while gripping at his head. He screams turned to rasps as the black mist seeped back into its book, leaving Harry laying in a puddle of his own sweat. His heart start to slow from its thundering rhythm, and he concentrated on the sound of the rain falling outside to calm him.

'What the fuck was that?' Harry thought to himself in a panic. He sat up, regretting it. Pain shot from his scar all the way down to his spine. The pain made him see stars, and he doubled over onto the ground where he emptied the contents in his stomach onto the floor.

His whole body shook in pain, and he had to brace himself on his bed in order to stand up. Legs wobbling, and brow coated with cold sweat, he didn't know if he could manage walking to the bathroom. He ended up falling onto his bed beside the book, taking off his glasses. Everything was blurry, but he didn't care. He just shut his eyes and tried to make sense of things. He enjoyed the darkness behind his eyes. It was tranquil despite the commotion the Gyffindors were making down in the common room.

"Two more years," he murmured to himself. "Two more years and I'm out." He opened his eyes once more, putting on his glasses. Slowly he sat up, taking his wand and banishing away the puddle of puke and sweat on the floor. He didn't want his housemates worrying about him.

He eyed the book again, wondering if it was going to do the black mist of hell thing again. He bit his lip for the second time, and took it in his hands. He weighed it for a while, just sitting on the edge of the bed looking at the black leather. His eyes kept glancing over at the door, expecting someone to barge in. He knew no one would. It was Saturday night and everyone was having fun getting drunk.

Harry stood up, facing the book with his wand in hand. Anxiety was rolling off of him, but he had to face his fear. If a book was anything to fear. He recalled that time in first year with that face in the that one book. Shaking his head he stood on one foot while the other levitated near the book. With the tip of his foot, he flipped it open. Getting into a fighting position, he prepare for whatever it was to crawl out next in the book. When he realized there was no more surprises, he straightened up and took the book in his hands. He was staring at the index. Nothing harmful there.

There was so much in the book, he didn't even know whether or not he was going to finish. He scanned the room, sitting down on his bed in a cross legged position, and opening the book. He began to read the first chapter on the difference between light and dark.

For centuries the wizarding world has been separated into two societies. The Dark Society and the Light Society. Many have debated what is dark and what is light within the magical societies and the debates have always ended in a stand still. It is fact that there is no dark or light. Every person, every society, has both dark and light sides. The Light will use spells such as Avada Kedevra when dueling to kill their enemy with the intention killing their opponent. Does that make the light wizard a dark one? No. They are still light and will remain thus unless they renounce their ways. Only there is the dark voice within their minds saying that they did justice when they, in fact, did something very dark.

Harry paused from his readings. He had never thought of it that way. He continued to read:

The Dark Society is only called thus because of the fact that they let their magic run pure. A Dark wizard or witch will let their emotions run free then pile them up within their soul as a Light One would do. They are more in tuned with their magical core because the spells they perform require a skill to seek out energy from within their core. The Dark Ones are very powerful when angered, and anyone can become one with the right training. It is easy for a Light One to be corrupted by the Dark. Light wizards and witches are easy to manipulate if one finds the trigger. That is why the art of Occulmency of created to protect both sides minds.

Nothing made sense. Harry sat there dumbfounded in way. So there were two sides to every side? He scratched his head, shaking it in confusion. Was there no difference?

He sat back against the wall for a while, rereading the passage over and over again. He had it almost memorized word for word. He turned the page, the first chapter playing out before him. There was a moving picture of a wizard sitting in a cross legged position with a black mist in his palms. The title of the chapter, The Theory of Dark Magic, was floating above him. Harry licked his dry lips, reading the first page.

Many theories over the centuries have been gone over and over against about how Dark Magic was formed. Only there is one theory that sticks out of all of them. The theory was developed by a twelfth century witch by the name of Bretha Nonstine. Nonstine's theory stated that Dark Magic is the negative energy that surrounds a person. Any one person can perform Dark Magic, but the more negative the energy the more powerful the wizard or witch will be in the Dark Arts. She goes on stating that it also has to do with one's past. If one's past was abusive or violent in some way, their magical core would welcome Dark Magic more than a wizard that had a very calm past. Abuse is-

Harry threw the book across his bed, his fingertips stinging slightly. His hands were shaking, and his breathing was quick. Abuse. Memories of the Dursley's came forth into his mind, and tears stung his eyes as he relived almost every memory that included a beating. The stinging grew, and he let out a small sob before curling up into a ball. He curled his hands into fists, feeling something wet on his palm. His eyes shot to his hands and he saw that his fingertips were bleeding, or leaking, a black substance.

A shock of pain ran through his body, and he screamed at the top of his lungs as his back arched in protest. He felt his vision fog up, and his head grow heavy. The last thing he remember before passing out, was a soft voice saying that everything was alright.

***

Zane watched Harry sleep for a long while with a frown on his lips. The boy laying there, crippled by the magic the book had to offer. He stared at the leather bound torturer that was actually the key to everything that he held dear as well as everyone in Olympian Academy. He reached to one of Harry's hands, looking at the black substance. A soft smile played on his lips when he saw the silver start to leak out. Wandlessly he banished the mess, and ran his fingers through Harry's full locks.

"May Eros always watch over you Harry," he said quietly with a fond look in his eyes. He leaned down and kissed Harry on his forehead before leaving the dormitory.

***

Hermione Granger may have been a muggle born, but she knew how to play her cards within the wizarding world. She sat in front of Headmaster Dumbledore and Headmaster Drennon with tears in her eyes. Her tears were out of frustration of whatever Rafaella did to her. Also she was doing it for show to give her some sympathy. Dumbledore seemed to be buying it, but Drennon kept his cold mask in place so she didn't know if it was working or not. He just next to Dumbledore, arms crossed.

"I haven't been able to find anything, not even assignments or my way around the school without someone with me." She wiped away some tears and shot at glare at Rafaella who was sitting next to her with a bored look on her face. "She did something to me when she said that incantation."

"It wasn't an incantation you-" Rafaella cut short when Drennon cleared his throat. She sat up stiffly, looking Dumbledore in the eyes. "She insulted our gods. I wasn't going to leave it unpunished." She crossed her arms, and crossed her legs with a raised eyebrow. "Anyone would've done it."

"Headmaster Drennon is what she says true? Anyone would've done whatever she did to Miss. Granger?"

"Indeed," he answered curtly with a nod. He glanced over at Hermione. She was fuming at the man. "Rafaella I'm assuming you willed Artemis' wrath upon her?"

"Yes sir," she answered.

Hermione shot a glare at her. "What the hell did you do to me?"

Rafaella gave her an almost sadistic look that could equal Bellatrix's. "Nothing you didn't deserve," she answered with a small laugh.

"Headmaster Drennon," said Dumbledore with a stern look. "I suggest you tell Miss. Rafaella to reverse whatever she did to my student."

"I cannot do that," sighed the other man. He looked at Dumbledore with an emotionless face. "It's irreversible."

"What?!" Hermione screamed at the top of her lungs. She turned over to Rafaella, tears in her eyes. "What did you to me?" She lunged at Rafaella and she dodged her before she could grab a hold of her. Dumbledore waved his hand and Hermione was warded away from Rafaella who was in a fighting position with her wand drawn.

"What did you do to her, Miss. Rafaella?" asked Dumbledore calmly, but he eyes deceived his voice.

Rafaella glanced over at Drennon, who nodded. "It's not what I did, but what Artemis did," she answered in a guarded voice. She kept glancing at Hermione who was still trying to tear out of the wards. "She took away Miss. Granger's ability to hunt for things. Such as books, answers, and anything else she may desire to find." Hermione stopped, staring daggers at her. "Artemis also made to where any animal within reach of Miss. Granger would attack." Dumbledore's eyes widened at this. "And," continued Rafaella with that sadistic smile. "Artemis took away her fertility."

The entire room went dead silent. Even the portraits that were gossiping about what was going on stopped their whispering and stared at the girl in horror. To take away one's chance of having children was something unheard of in the wizarding world. Hermione clutched her lower abdomen with complete shock written on her face. Then there was Dumbledore. The twinkle in his eyes left, and an angry look at put in its place.

"Miss. Rafaella you could be put into Azkaban for this?"

"No she couldn't," said Drennon. He walked to his student, putting his hand on the young woman's shoulder. "She just wished it to happen, and it happened. She didn't kill anyone. No unforgivable curse was used. Plus she is under the American Ministries' rule, not British."

"I want a trial!" screamed Hermione in anger. "How dare you!" Tears streamed down her cheeks. "I-"

"Wanted a child," Rafaella finished with a smirk. She approached the bushy haired girl, but Dumbledore warded her two feet away from her. She sneered at the man with the half moon glasses. She felt a silencing ward being placed upon them, and glanced at Drennon before looking fully at Hermione. "Mark my words mudblood, this isn't just because of what you've said." She smiled softly. "I'm sure you know as well as I do that you deserve this." Rafaella spat at her feet. "I'm sure you remember this summer what you did to that family."

Hermione paled.

The silencing ward was lifted, and Rafaella glanced over at the Headmaster. "If she wishes to give trial, she may." Rafaella gave her a warning look. "If you'll excuse me, I must be off. I have studying to do." She bowed to her Headmaster, sneered at the other two, and walked out within a backwards glance.

"Miss. Granger," sighed Dumbledore. "Go to Madame Promfrey and receive a calming draught." The bushy haired girl nodded, turning around and walking out the same door Rafaella had exited moments later. Dumbledore then turned to Drennon who was studying his numerous objects within his office. "You must give punishment to your student. I will not have things like this happening to my students."

Drennon gave the old man a dark look. "Zeus does not think she should be punished."

"Excuse me?"

"Zeus does not think she should be punished," he repeated. "He has spoken to me in my dreams. She had every right, and if Artemis bestowed upon those curses then I have no right to punish Rafaella."

"Talk to Zeus then!" shouted Dumbledore. "Tell him that he is wrong!"

A crack of thunder echoed through the room. Drennon's posture stiffened, glowering at Dumbledore. "Zeus is never wrong," he hissed. He picked up an emerald, tossing it in the air and catching it before setting it down. He stared at the other headmaster for a long while. "And I would be a lot more careful with your words if you're question my God's word. I am his incarnate after all."

Dumbledore fumed. He knew he couldn't do anything to change the man's mind. "Her parents will want some type of action to occur."

Drennon started towards the door, turning to him when his hand was on the knob. "Tell them I said to blow it out their asses."

***

Larila stared down at Dustin who was a sweaty heap on the floor before her. Another vision had invaded his already vulnerable mind since he had had another vision a few nights previous. She kneeled down to his level. They were within her quarters near the Divination rooms. Her room had blue drapes along the walls to cover the ugly stone. There were large pillows to sit on as well as a corner filled with herbs and remedies she had on hand in case of emergencies. In the center was a platform where her readings took places from visions to tarot readings. The flooring was an ebony stone that was one just hardwood. In a corner of the room, Mentor Nico was making tea for Dustin.

"What was it this time, young one?" asked the elder with worried eyes. Why the gods were forcing prophetic dreams upon him and only him was above her knowledge.

Dustin reached for her hand, his own shaking uncontrollably. His bright eyes were glazed over as an after shock of the vision. "Death comes to those who deceive him," his voice whispered in a hoarse tone. "Chaos has seen within his soul." The sentence made Mentor Nico drop the cup of tea within his hand. It shattered on the floor.

Larila staggered back, hands shaking. "C-Chaos?"

Dustin nodded, an insane giggle escaping from passed his lips. He gazed over at his mentor with another giggle. "The book called for him," was the last thing he said before his eyes closed, and his body went limp. His breathing evened out, and Larila watched as her student slept on with a smile on his face.

"Larila," breathed Nico. The woman gazed over at her companion and former student. "Chaos has never called for anyone in fifty years," he said with wide eyes. "And even the called didn't come to his call."

Larila stood up, levitating Dustin's body. It floated over to one of the large pillows and he laid there resting silently. She sighed, rubbing her tired eyes. "Chaos couldn't have put her entire essence into one body. No wizard would be able to control the power." She began to pace with her mind working on how this could have happened. She silently asked Fate what exactly she was doing. "She would bestow a different God to watch over him. But who did Dustin give the book to?"

Nico shrugged, his trembling hands mixing herbs as best he could.

Larila stared at Dustin's form before approaching Nico. She sat down next to him, shaking her head. "The last time this happened the entire wizarding world was turned upside down." She wringed her hands together, her eyes in slits from thinking so much.

"Shall we tell Drennon?" asked Nico.

"We have no choice," Larila responded. "He may already know with his connection to Zeus."

Nico sighed, putting down the herbs he was measuring. "Shall we tell the students?"

Larila thought for a long while. It was silent for five minutes at the least. "Their parents are coming in a few weeks for Hogwart's first Quidditch match. We'll tell them then," she answered. She glanced over at Dustin. "Just how did he get the book?"

"You know that the book takes different faces depending on whom Chaos is calling and what she has in store for the called," he ran his hands through his hair. He almost felt tears in his eyes. "She is supposed to be the reason we're here, but why do we fear her so?"

Larila let out a dark chuckle. "Because we know what she is capable of doing." She knew deep in her heart that Chaos was more or less Fate. So she could change whatever she wanted whenever.

A scream tore through the room, and both witch and wizard jumped. They stared at each other and immediately looked over at Dustin. He was sleeping soundly, the sweat on his forehead drying to flakes.

Larila let out a shaky breath, and Nico staggered against a wall. "What the fuck was that?" asked Nico in a girlish shriek. He felt the power surge through the castle, and both Mentors fell to the ground. They could hear the chaos outside the walls of the room. Another surge of power traveled through the castle, and every speck of glass shattered within the room. Larila had to spell everything shard of glass to stop their paths towards them and Dustin.

Both mentors stared at each other, jaws slightly open as was almost everyone else's in the castle. A crack of thunder was heard echoing through the air, and the sounds of beasts were heard shrieking in distress. In their hearts, they knew that there was nothing they could do to stop what was bound to happen.

***

Harry stood up from his bed, looking every which way. A scent lingered in the air, and he smiled. For some reason he felt like he was alive for the first time in a long time. He stretched his arms up, his back popping. He turned, seeing the book on his bed. He picked it up, frowning. Harry decided he would read it later. He placed it on his night table, and walked towards the bathroom. When he stared in the mirror, he gasped. His hair was glossier, and not messy anymore. His bangs fell straight across his face, and there was something different about his looks took him a while to notice.

He froze when he noticed what was missing His hand moved up to his forehead, tracing the smooth skin where the scar should have been.

Uh…oh…what's going to happen? Hm….I wonder….muahaha!