CHAPTER 27
[Date - REDACTED], [Time - REDACTED]
- NAM OCULI TUI SOLUM -
Status: Urgent
Re: Subject W
Response: Required
005,
This missive is regarding the transfer request for Subject W. Per my review of your extensive observation reports coupled with 018's research findings, I concur with your request to transfer Subject W to the Sherrinford Sanctuary in the Baskerville Facility. Dream Target Z1 is still our top priority, and 018 is making tangible strides to overcome Subject W's phrenic freezes and subsequent ejections of invading Legilimens. 018 will reattempt targeted psychic surgery with 045 to provide auxiliary support.
001
- NAM OCULI TUI SOLUM -
- NAM OCULI TUI SOLUM -
Status: Received
Re: Subject W
Response: Confirmed
001,
Received and confirmed. Subject W will be scheduled for transfer within the week. I will be using the DRCMC as is standard to facilitate the process, with 045 providing an assist.
005
- NAM OCULI TUI SOLUM -
Arachne,
I have received confirmation that the Package will be en route on the date Occluded in the sigil in the bottom right of this note. I imagine that should close out my tab.
Nuntius
Nuntius,
Your debt is paid when I say it's paid. I will have a team on hand to intercept. Your work is done.
For now.
Arachne
10 March 1994 - Defense Against the Dark Arts Class - Hogwarts, 9:14AM
"As I have already made you all very aware, my intent with this class is to impart real-world knowledge that will actually benefit you as the Death Eater Menace continues to loom over us all. We will be having our standard Patronus workshop this Sunday with myself, Mr. Flint, and Miss Kolumbiko."
Professor Scrimgeour paused to nod in the Second Year Slytherin's direction, who perked up with a cheery smile. While she'd been initially secretive about her ability to produce a corporeal Patronus (only the Lair's Inner Circle knew), the disastrous events of Hallowhain had spurred her into action. Her Fwooper Ligeia had successfully rebuffed Channon when the madman had attempted to eat her, Luna, and Hannah Abbott whole.
Plus, the DADA Professor had seen her casting the spell against the Dementors during the previous Quidditch match, all but sealing her fate as a would-be instructor.
"Excellent, onwards to the lesson."
Scrimgeour strode to the front of the class and rhythmically tapped his wand against a small projector-like object on his desk. Built into the top of the projector was a small basin that only a select view recognized as a Pensieve, albeit a rather uncommon looking one. Small well-like grooves housed the misty vapors of memories, which, with a tap of the Professor's wand, would self-pout into the bowl and be projected like a film on the large viewing screen covering the bulk of the front wall.
"In line with our lessons regarding the Death Eater movement, we will be viewing an eye-witness memory of The Falmouth Fracas that occurred in Upper Falmouth, a rather populous wizarding commune in the muggle seaside port town. This was a notable clash between a faction of the elite Death Eater kill-squad formally known as the Ghosts of Silesia, facing off against the Knights of Walpurgis. This particular memory we will be viewing is a face-off between a Knight called Bradamante and the Ghost Miss Demeanor. While the eye-witness was quite a distance away from the confrontation, the unique mechanics of a Pensieve will allow us to view the memory as though we were standing right next to the two combatants."
The tension ratcheted up just a touch, all wondering if they should even be watching a memory that featured the proclaimed Right Hand of the Dark Lord.
"This wasn't a regular raid; while the Ghosts did intend to cause maximum carnage with their violence, this particular raid was meant to provide cover for an assassination attempt against Abraham Grimblehawk and all of his family at their Falmouth homestead. Grimblehawk was the Head of the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, the Ministry department responsible for creatures classified as 'Beasts' and 'Spirits', with each having their own Divisions and sub-Heads that answered to Grimblehawk." He paused to take a quick sip of water. "The beasts and spirits in question were werewolves and Dementors."
Uncomfortable murmuring bubbled as the students recalled their respective run-ins with the said creatures, and all the implications of You-Know-Who wanting unfettered access and control of them. Poor Colin Creevey shuddered and turned green in recollection, an expression mirrored by almost all of the Gryffindor students. Amy's expression tightened considerably as she recalled someone (probably a Death Eater with a twisted sense of humor) knocking her out with a Stupefy before leaving her in the rubble alongside her poor Auntie.
"The Dark Lord," continued Scrimgeour, "was very displeased that Grimblehawk had publicly rebuffed and denounced him, refusing to have his Department used as yet another tool in the madman's quest to overtake and destroy Wizarding Britain. As I am sure you are all aware, You-Know-Who did not take very kindly to that. In response he dispatched three Ghosts in known as The Triumvirate; a group comprised of Miss Demeanor aka Bellatrix Lestrange, Mr. Tyrfing, who was believed to be Thorfinn Rowle though he was never unmasked to confirm, and lastly Mr. Justinian, whose identity has never been confirmed." He once more sipped at his water.
"Mr. Justinian was known as the Bane of the Dark Lord's enemies, a Master Spellcrafter capable of deadly applications of conventional and non-conventional magicks, all aimed at utterly incapacitating an enemy. In the case of The Falmouth Fracas, Mr. Justinian succeeded in weaponizing the Marum Aeris charm to transform the surrounding air into Garroting Gas."
"Bloody hell!" exclaimed a horrified Yurika, her expression mirrored on the faces of several students.
"Indeed Miss Haneda. The bulk of the civilian casualties incurred were due to their inability to escape this particular death trap. A fair handful had the wits to cast a Bubblehead Charm, providing some form of reprieve. I imagine that meant little in the face of murderers casting Unforgivables in a literal killbox. It took almost an hour for the responding Aurors to transform the toxic gas into rain, nullifying the garotting effect. The offensive pushback from the Knights were the only reason the civilian casualties were 'bad' and not 'completely catastrophic'."
Ginny tentatively raised her hand, finally speaking when Scrimgeour acknowledged her. "Who are the Knights sir? Truly? I read up on them in the Library and all I could find were references to their respective codenames and battles with the Death Eaters."
"A valid question Miss Weasley. All I know of the Knights of Walpurgis is that they are a secret society and quasi-paramilitary force that emerged in late-1972 to oppose the rising threat of the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters, coinciding with the election of Nobert 'Nobby' Leach as the first muggleborn Minister of Magic. The slaughter of the Dearborn family had occurred in the spring of the same year, presumably serving as additional inspiration for the group's formation. Their names and identities are under some form of an Occlusion spell, rendering them nameless and faceless even when viewed through the magicks of a Pensieve. Any attempts to reveal their identities have utterly failed."
Scrimgeour paused to sip his water, making mental note of all the students' reactions. Misses Weasley, Kolumbiko, Lovegood and (surprisingly) Wilkes looked curious, recognizing from the man's statement that there had been attempts (including by the Aurors) to unmask the vigilante group which had, in many ways, done the Aurors jobs for them. Rufus naturally had his own suspicions, but none so far had been confirmed.
"The Order of the Phoenix emerged around the same time, a semi-secret society openly headed by Albus Dumbledore in the fight against the Dark Lord. He was the only public-facing member, the identities of all the others were similarly Occluded. Unlike the Aurors and the Order of the Phoenix, the Knights would retaliate against the Death Eaters with equal lethal force save the Unforgivables. This inspired quite a bit of ruckus in the Ministry and the Wizengamot, with some upset that a vigilante group was doing the job the Aurors should have been doing and others upset that there even was a vigilante group to begin with, and a powerful one at that. They typically worked alongside the Order of the Phoenix during the Death Eater raids, providing an offensive counterpart to the former's defensive. Per my research, their name and a few of their combat techniques were inspired by the Knights of Albion."
"Knights of Albion?" asked shy Slytherin Abigail Pugh.
"Yes Miss Pugh. Their group were the predecessors to the modern Aurors, officially started in the year 1100 and disbanded upon the advent of the Statute of Secrecy in 1692. The founding families of the Knights were Houses Potter, Longbottom, Bones, Nott, Flint, Rowle, and Bulstrode. Much like the muggle Templar Knights and Knights of the Round Table, these seven houses were charged to be the Guardian Protectors of the new realm in light of the hardwon peace between the invading Noble families and the resident Ancient and Noble. Houses Gaunt, Weasley, and Shacklebolt would join their ranks in the 1200s, further expanding to include a handful of the Common Houses and other non-political wizarding families in the early 1300s. Each family representative led their own 5-7 member army under their respective banner that bore the overall Knights sigil, fighting by wand and blade. They vowed to keep out potential invaders and maintain the fragile peace within the families and their respective allies. But enough of that, time to begin the show."
And with that, the DADA Professor whirled around and rhythmically tapped his wand against the projector, watching the memory flow from its well-groove and into the basin.
The memory began playing, and the class watched with rapt attention all that occurred on the fateful 22 December 1978.
It was a dark and stormy night.
As terribly cliché as it seemed, it was the only accurate description befitting of the scene before the students' eyes. Whirling maelstroms of black-gray clouds swirled ominously above as rain fell in unrelenting sheets, precariously maintained by the Meteolojinx and Spissatio Aeris charms the responding Aurors had cast and were working to maintain. Silhouettes of spell-damaged homes framed the majority of the hilly background, rapidly filling with rainwater as the malfunctioned Impervius charms could no longer do their job in repelling water.
The broken forms of dead civilians littered the ground, their bodies slowly becoming water-logged as a result of the ensuing deluge. Many bore faces frozen in a rictus of panicked fear, with frozen hands clawing at their throats as a result of asphyxiating to death. Multi-colored flashes of lethal spellfire occasionally illuminated the lurid scenery as the Knights fought viciously against Messrs. Justinian and Tyfring, having to keep them and their respective soldiers at bay.
All this encircled the two stationary forms of Miss Demeanor and Bradamante, both of whom were currently content to just stare unblinkingly at the other.
Two powerful predators seeking to make the other their prey.
Miss Demeanor bore her standard featureless ivory mask, somehow even more terrifying than the garishness of her cohorts. Her robes gathered about her as though made of whirling ether, so dark that they seemingly blended into the surrounding night. She was several feet away from the Grimblehawk home, determined to breach their sanctuary and kill them all as her Lord commanded.
About six feet across from her was Bradamante, donning an equally dark skin-tight bodysuit that shimmered as though covered with small inky scales.
Acromantula silk reinforced with unique orichalcum-infused dragon scales tended to have that effect.
Despite bearing the name of a woman-knight, It was uncertain whether the warrior was truly a witch; the Glamour Charm utilized to obscure their identity lent no clue one way or another, a necessity for absolute protection of his or her true identity.
A beat passed before Miss Demeanor spoke (or moreso whispered) in an impossibly soft voice that somehow carried quite loudly:
"How do you presume that I won't complete my mission?"
Her enemy blinked.
"Because I won't let you."
A heartbeat passed.
Willow and walnut flashed.
Death's dance was on.
THUMP.
A salvo of poisoned arrows flew rapidly at Bradamante, who parried them back whilst deftly bending to avoid the wordless Laceros expertly woven in-between. One nicked the side of a bit of exposed neck, drawing a sharp hiss.
"CONCUSsSUS!"
Demeanor twisted sharply right to evade (unbeknownst to her and the viewing audience) the parsel-enhanced spell, though she felt the tailend of it ruffle past her face. She had to dodge past a barrage of scalpel-like silver arrows, though she was unable to avoid a duo that sliced dangerously close to both carotid arteries, drawing blood nonetheless.
THUMP.
A flick of Demeanor's wand summoned a cursed Flame Whip that aimed straight for Bradamanete, poised to turn her to sludge.
Or it would have, if not for a hissed "ARRESsSTO!" which caused it to freeze. Another spell caused it to wiggle strangely, before redirecting back to its caster to strangle her into fiery sludge.
Demeanor succeeded in dispersing the hijacked flame, but didn't have time to retaliate as a murder of crows descended downward to rip her to bloody shreds. A slash of walnut dispersed most, though a small few succeeded in tearing at her chest and arms.
THUMP.
"SYRTESsS!"
The ground beneath Demeanor's feet turned to quicksand, the serpentine whirlpool dragging her downward. The Knight pressed her advantage with a flurry of Cutting and Bludgeoning Hexes, most of which were blocked and parried.
Casting a non-verbal Ventus Deorsum the Death Eater shot straight up in the air with the intent to cartwheel some distance away to gain an advantage.
THUMP.
"AERISsS CONSsSTRINGERE!"
Demeanor grunted as she felt the air around her tighten like a physical thing, squeezing her to death as her ribs broke at the strain.
"EXxXPERLIARMUSsS!"
In a motion too fast to comprehend Demeanor's wand erected the Anti-Disarming Jinx shield that blocked the Disarming Charm, dissipating it without effect and spurring the witch into her next move.
POOF! She apparated directly behind the Knight.
THUMP.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
With a split-second to react the Knight slipped into a modified Gliding-On-the-Breath-of-Zephyr, using her resulting momentum to just barely twist past the Killing Curse to land behind Demeanor.
"MACTASsES! OCULUSsS CAECcCUSsS! VERTIGO! LACcCERO!"
The barrage was relentless though Demeanor wasn't idle. She succeeded in blocking the first and deflecting the second but was momentarily rendered dizzy by the third as the fourth slashed the right side of her face, taking a considerable chunk of her mask and leaving bloodied flesh in its wake.
She staggered backwards as the Knight pressed her advantage, unleashing an unyielding torrent of envenomed arrows at her enemy. A few lodged themselves into Demeanor's right leg and upper left arm, forcing her down with a grunt as Bradamante went for the kill with a parsel-enhanced Expulso.
It wasn't to be.
A slash of walnut disappeared the arrows before her entire body turned to billows of dark smoke, living up to her title of 'Ghost'. Bradamante was not fooled as she went into high alert, body wound tightly inward like a snake poised to strike with wand at the ready.
It was with good reason as Demeanor rematerialized mere inches from her face, lobbying Crucio, Exviscera, and a plethora of Brackium Confractus in rapid succession that would have immediately felled a lesser enemy.
THUMP-THUMP.
Bradamante used half a second to activate her backup Personality and grant it just enough sentience to maintain a unique Dilation. It was excellent timing, as she was able to push back Demeanor with a Knockback Jinx while parrying and deflecting most of her spells, save two dizzyingly fast Bonebreakers that slammed into her clavicle and left leg, forcing her to her knees with a pained grunt.
A flurry of Bonebreakers followed, fracturing ribs and breaking her wand arm. Without hesitation she switched her wand to her other hand, though not fast enough to block all of the Acid Hex that flashed towards her, singeing parts of her hair and scalp.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" The eldritch green light of the Killing Curse flew dead-center at its target.
"AEGISsS TERRA!" The earth rose up into a protective dome to over the entirety of the Knight's body, transfigured into a metal dome to deflect the Death Eater's lethal magic while providing just enough reprieve to momentarily lapse her Dilation and apply first-aid.
THUMP.
"INCENDIO HORRIBILIS!" It was the first non-Killing Curse spell the Dark witch verbalized, viciously brandishing her wand as torrents of destructive flame poured out, wrapping around the protective dome and turning it to metal sludge.
Deftly rolling out of the way, a semi-healed Bradamante flicked her wand, transfiguring the metal sludge into a murder of vicious silver crows that flew straight at her enemy, allowing for a few more moments of additional reprieve.
"RICTUMSsSEMPRA." The spell was barely whispered, interwoven with other flashier (i.e. more lethal) curses that drew the Death Eater's focus. Her gambit worked as the witch focused on deflecting those spells and missed the Tickling Jinx, startled as she doubled over in uncontrollable laughter.
"PETRIFICUSsS CARTILAGEM." To Demeanor's further shock she froze as all of her joints locked into place, preventing her from moving even as her grip locked around her wand.
"SsSAEPTUM." An invisible box-like barrier sprang around the Dark witch, the air made solid due to the Parseltongue modification.
"SsSUPPRIMERE OXxXYGENI." If Demeanor's eyes had been visible, they would have been wide in shock as she realized she was asphyxiating!
Bradamante went for the kill.
"SsSUFFUCATIO."
The Death Eater began choking in earnest, unable to claw at her own neck as the inevitable irony of her demise set in. The Knight steadily approached, a parsel Lacero on the tip of her tongue ready to behead her enemy.
Knowing she had little time Demeanor used one Dilated second to expertly dislocate the thumb of her non-wand hand to twist an unseen ring on her finger. In a flash she Portkeyed away to safety, leaving a snarling Bradamante in her wake as the memory dissipated to smoke.
"BLOODY HELL!"
Dennis Creevey looked equal parts amazed and horrified at the epic battle he'd just witnessed. He wasn't the only one as many in the DADA class openly gawked in dumbstruck astonishment.
Marcus was of a similar mind, the Teacher's Aide in disbelief at witnessing the incredible faceoff between the two formidable women. The magic of his wrist cuff had psychically revealed the true face of then 18 year-old Lily Evans in the memory, his ashwinder glowing in unseen tandem with the krait of the one adorning her wrist.
He had never been more relieved that Aries Flint had failed to force him to become a Death Eater.
"Indeed Mr Creevey." Though he was equally impressed by what he'd witnessed, years of hard-worn Occlumency allowed him to maintain a perfectly banal expression. "Now, can anyone tell me what the most important lessons are from that memory?"
"That we haven't a bloody hope in ever beating any Death Eater we encounter unless we have the skills that Bradamante-person does, and even then it will be a close one!"
"Correct, 5 points to Gryffindor." Scrimgeour leveled a gimlet eye at the rest of the class. "Ms. Wilkes is absolutely correct in her assessment. None of you, not a single one, have any hope of ever facing off against a Death Eater as skilled and deadly as Miss Demeanor and escaping with your life, not even as full-grown adults. Very few are capable of the breadth of battle magic you just witnessed, so in the event that any one of you should be so unlucky as to cross paths with a Death Eater in this ongoing Menace - and recent events suggest a very real possibility of such an outcome - you will do your due diligence to escape."
"And how in Merlin's saggy y-fronts are we meant to do that?! Um…sir." Several students giggled at the blush spreading across Noel Cragg's cheeks at her outburst.
"That will be part of your homework assignment; at least two feet of parchment, I want you all to cross-reference for your texts for Second Year equivalents to the magicks you witnessed and how they can best be used to evade an attacking enemy much more competent and powerful than you. Extra credit will be given for hands-on demonstration of the spells you find. Class dismissed!"
Head Office - Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, 11:08AM
Amos Diggory was in a decidedly pleasant mood.
It was no surprise as the fortune of House Diggory had been on the up-and-up since the rather morbid and unfortunate events of Hallowhain. It seemed that Cedric had made quite a positive impression on Lord Gaunt, given his "impressive display of initiative" with founding and co-leading the Pureblood Advocacy Club. Lord Gaunt had plainly stated that he would make an impressive Heir worthy of a Noble House, and had promised (in that sly Slytherin way of his) that he and his allies would support the Diggorys' promotion to a proper Noble House of the Wizengamot.
Amos had openly gushed at the man's compliments and his promise, incredible considering he'd always been a touch put out that an impoverished and orphaned mudblood not raised in proper wizarding society had risen to take the mantle of a powerful Ancient and Noble House.
Naturally, the soon-to-be Lord Diggory hadn't a clue that his version of said events were a result of a False Memory Lock, and the true reason for his family's upward social mobility would be revealed to him in the upcoming Wizengamot summer session.
But by then, it would be too late.
Setting aside his briefcase Amos prepared a cup of his favorite lemon tea, accompanied by a serving of buttercream lemon tarts courtesy of Molly Magical Morsels. His wife Tawney was a member of the Tea-Time Club with Molly, and the homemaker-turned-business woman-witch was filling multiple catering orders a week for her club friends.
Reclining in his chair, the DRCMC Head quickly reviewed the upcoming itinerary, nose lightly wrinkling.
There was an approved Class XXXXX Beast transfer scheduled to the Sherrinford Sanctuary in Baskerville.
Teasingly referred to as 'Basketville' by those with the clearance to know of the facility's existence, Baskerville was meant to house those people, creatures, or things that were simply too bizarre to be contained in the Janus Thickey Ward, the DMLE detention cells, or even the bowels of the Department of Mysteries. Lycanthropes were among their number, especially feral ones who were found partially or fully-transformed, as was the case with this particular beastie. According to the reports he'd been found during the last Full Moon stark-raving mad whilst roaming the English countryside, posing Merlin-knew what kind of danger.
'Filthy beasts should all be put down.' Amos was of the mind that any rehabilitative measures were an absolute waste of time when dealing with violently demented creatures, but alas his opinion held little in the face of overall Ministry mandate.
As was standard, the transfer would happen with a two-member Auror guard and two supervising agents from the Beast Division of the DRCMC. That typically fell to Division Head Godric Stump, the great-great-great grandson of Grogan Stump - a popular ex-British Minister of Magic credited with the creation of the Being, Beast, and Spirit Divisions within the DRCMC. Godric was a proud Gtyffindor through and through and very dedicated to his role, making significant strides with the Troll Patrol and Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures.
His partner would be Sinéad Prewett, a junior member of the Beast Division and another Gryffindor alumnus whose work focused on revamping the Werewolf Registry and Werewolf Register, much to the pleasure of Cecil Lee - current Leader for the Werewolf Capture Unit. Cecil was of the mind that a well-organized Register would provide the most efficient means of identifying and dispatching the heinous creatures who'd wreaked such violent havoc during the past war.
Interestingly enough, Cecil should have been on hand for the transfer. However, he'd been called away on a last-minute trip to the French Ministry of Magic, personally asked by their DRCMC Head to provide support for the Bureau des Aurors on their werewolf capture procedures.
Flicking the itinerary away, Amos finished his cup of tea and tarts as he prepped for his lunchtime meeting with the Spirit Division, absolutely dreading that interaction.
Today's esteemed guest would be Fastidio, the representative for the British poltergeists that haunted the Haunted Hogsmeade Shop in Hogsmeade. Surprisingly charming and erudite for a chaotic spirit, Fastidio was charged with "improving accessibility for amortal-kind to the dwellings of the living, maximizing the opportunity for malicious mischief, vengeful vandalism, and acrimonious aggravation." While more courteous than average, the poltergeist still didn't shy away from the disorderly hooliganism of his kind, especially when he was frustrated or felt he was being cheated.
"Who knew the undead could be so bloody needy?!"
Old Slug Club Room - Hogwarts, 8:43PM
Miranda was grateful for the snack bowl of blackberries in her lap. It gave her something to do with her hands, which were currently itching to hex Zacharias Smith silly. The pompous windbag had been ranting (yet again) about the Outcast for almost ten uninterrupted minutes, and to the witch's growing worry, many seemed to be in agreement with the boy's ceaseless blathering.
To Miranda's disappointment, Neville seemed to be in agreement with the Hufflepuff, his hatred for Theo well-known in their group. News of Harry and Theo's miraculous escape from the Dark Curse museum had been splashed on the cover of The Prophet for weeks, leading to another very loud (and very public) confrontation between himself, Harry, and Hermione, with Heir Longbottom leveling vicious accusations of "fraternizing with the enemy!"
Needless to say none of them were on speaking terms. Again.
Draco, Ginny, Tracey, and Millicent all stared stone-facedly at the Hufflepuff. The Greengrasses weren't far behind, though Daphne was edging more towards irritation as her lip lightly curled. Muriel Rothley and Horatio Pershore looked keenly discomfited, an expression shared by Graham Montague as he wondered why in Circe's name he'd convinced himself to join this club in the first place. Lavender and Druscilla looked equally uncomfortable as McLaggen and Oliver Wood both gawked at the boy's unbelievable ability to keep talking!
A visibly exhausted Cedric sat alongside Cho, expression uncommonly guarded. HIs girlfriend - like Neville - seemed in complete agreement with Smith's ramblings as she vigorously nodded along with his points. Her debut event for PAC had been completely ruined by a bloody werewolf invasion, something which would have never happened if she hadn't been forced to collaborate with that damned Granger and her little muggle-lover club that provided sanctuary to that Merlin-forsaken Outcast.
Something had to be done.
"And just to think, they let him back into this school with-"
"Alright Smith," interrupted Draco with the trademark Malfoy sneer. "I believe you've made your point quite succinctly. Do sit down." Zacharias' eyes widened furiously as he made to speak again, but a less-than-subtle look from Draco saw him take his seat, though not before sniffing haughtily as to prove he was not so easily intimidated.
Ginny made sure her eye roll was visible as Tracey allowed a small smirk to grace her features.
"Now that Heir Smith has finally finished deflating," Zacharias' right eye twitched violently. "It's time to move on to other more pertinent matters, namely a redo event to overcome that disastrous Samhain ev-"
"You cannot be serious Draco!" Neville jumped from his seat in outrage. "Zacharias is right! Blimey every single terrible thing that's befallen us this year is because of the Outcast! Merlin's beard first the train blows up, then we almost get eaten by bloody werewolves, then Harry is almost murdered by a bunch of rabid muggles. All of whom were chanting for the Outcast while they went insane and killed each other in a damned bloodlust!"
"I believe it was 'DIE, OUTCAST, DIE!' so technically the muggles wanted to kill him." Cormac lightly blushed as everyone turned to stare at him. "At least that's what The Prophet said."
"I imagine that adds to my point regarding the Outcast's so-called ability in casting advanced Dark magicks to incite chaos if the so-called targets of his magic turned against him. And while he certainly outranks many in this room in DADA, he is still a mere Third Year - Death Eater sire or otherwise." Ginny was once more impressed by Draco's diplomatic maneuvering in deflecting attention away from Theo while appearing to be both disdainful and disinterested in the ex-Nott.
'Probably why Harry chose him to begin with.'
"He doesn't need to be able to cast those kinds of magicks, being an Outcast is more than enough." Muriel blushed as everyone turned to stare at her, missing the way Miranda's jaw imperceptibly ticked. "I did a bit of research on the effects of the whole Outcast thing, and his…status is like a bad luck magnet. Everywhere he goes disaster will literally follow, whether he wants it to or not. He was on the Express and it got blown up with Dementors. He was in Hogsmeade when those werewolves attacked." A collective shudder went through the room in recollection of that night. "And now because of him, hundreds of muggles went into a killing frenzy and threatened the Statute of Secrecy! And that puts all of us in danger!
"Thank you!" replied Neville passionately as he turned to glare at Draco. "The Outcast can't be allowed to remain here putting all of our lives in danger." His eyes flashed as he glared at his Slytherin friend. "I would think an Heir of an Ancient and Noble House would understand his duty in protecting the realm against an enemy."
Draco's visage tightened furiously as a wave of tension swept through the room.
"Well aware of my duty I am Heir Longbottom," sneered Draco viciously as he stepped to become eye-level with the Gryffindor. "As my sire and all those before him bearing the Malfoy blood. And part of that duty has always involved applying logic in situations deemed illogical by those of…lesser minds." The insult was obvious as Neville actually snarled. The others in the room tensed uncomfortably, with Cormac and Cedric unsheathing their wands in case they needed to intervene between the two scions.
"And that includes standing with the allies whose actions contributed to our survival in the first place!" A look of shock overtook Neville's face as he recalled his rather disastrous First Year, cringing as he remembered Theo's help in saving him with the Remembrall, along with Harry and Hermione's saving him from being pummeled to death by a rogue troll.
But then the strength of the Sanction swept through him, causing his Heir ring to thrum in an unseen acknowledgement.
"Well some allies aren't who they claimed to be."
One Hour Later…
The members of PAC quickly exited the Old Slug Club Room after one of the tensest meetings any of them could recall. Many were amazed by Ginny Weasley bodily placing herself between Longbottom and Malfoy as the two came close to blows, ceasing their impending clash by threatening to hex them straight to the Hospital Wing.
As both were well aware of her proficiency with Stinging and Bat-Bogey Hexes, both boys had broken away to their respective corners of the room to fume in relative peace.
Curiously enough, six members didn't make their way back to their dorms. Rather, they doubled back to another old classroom and cast a plethora of warding and security charms, ensuring their privacy.
"We cannot wait anymore, we need to get rid of the Outcast. There's just too much at stake here for him to be allowed to stay at Hogwarts. Merlin's beard look what happened to those muggles! We could be next!"
"I fully agree, he needs to go. It's obvious the Headmaster and staff won't do it, so we have to take it into our own hands."
"And how do you suppose we do that? There's not enough of us who can appreciate how serious this is, and we don't have the authority to, I dunno, expel him from school."
"Well then, we need to make sure that whatever we do, Theo No-Name gets expelled for it. Once and for all!"
"Agreed."
"And whatever we do, we should ensure that SPAAM is implicated as well. They're the ones that gave the Outcast sanctuary when they should have joined with us to get rid of him! Especially Potter and Granger."
There was a pregnant pause, for the former moreso than the latter. While Harry wasn't the Potter Heir, he was still a son of an Ancient and Noble House and Lord Black's oath-sworn godson. All were quite aware that any attempt to harm the boy would incur the full wrath of House Black, and none wanted that millstone around their proverbial necks or that of their families.
"We…we don't need to implicate Potter or Granger for the plan to involve them. Just…involve them reasonably enough to get rid of the Outcast."
"And how in Circe's name are we meant to do that?!"
"...I think I have just the thing."
9:53PM
The earth-shaking roar of a massive grizzly black bear echoed through the Glenariff Forest, the sound even more spine-chilling as it aggressively thumped on its chest in challenge. The hair-raising howl of a werewolf accompanied the sound, before the two mighty beasts crashed head-first into each other in a cloud of snarling teeth and slashing claws.
Some feet away a russet-colored Crup charged at the back of another werewolf, latching directly onto its back with an audible crunch, causing it to shriek as it felt part of its spine snap. The two struggled for a few moments before the yowling werewolf succeeded in grabbing the Crup and tossing it away in a rage.
The canine transformed mid-air into the form of Sinéad Prewett, who succeeded in gracefully landing on her feet with her wand at the ready.
"MALEDIGNIS!"
Roiling purple flames raced out of the eleven-inch Chestnut apparatus and slammed dead-center into the injured lycanthrope, causing it to scream in agony as the Flesh-Eating Fire Curse ate its way through otherwise impenetrable lupine flesh. The witch held the flame for a few moments, only ceasing when the beast went into shock and began twitching.
"ARGENTUM INCARCEROUS." Spiked silver ropes wrapped their way around the werewolf's body, keeping it still as Sinéad withdrew a shimmering orichalchum box and tossed it in the creature's direction. It expanded mid-air and landed right on the creature, transforming into a coffin-like container teeming with various containment runes.
It was perfect timing as the black bear briefly succeeded in subduing its werewolf, allowing the witch to repeat her actions. Two quick Wingardium Leviosas lifted the containment boxes into a mokeskin rucksack modified with an Undetectable Extension Charm.
The bear roared in victory, before transforming into the bloodsoaked visage of a furious Godric Stump, whose teeth and claws were still elongated. Unholstering his wand - 14" spruce with dragon heartstring - he rhythmically tapped against a charmed mirror affixed to his wrist, speaking when the visage of Control appeared.
"This is 005 onsite with 045, reporting almost six minutes after the tenth hour. Transfer for Subject W was bungled, we were ambushed in the Glenariff by a quartet of semi-transformed werewolves. Two of their number successfully absconded with Subject W, with the remaining two captured and detained by 045 and I. Auror guard is dead. Send immediate Sanitation to my coordinates."
Control only blinked. "Acknowledged and confirmed, Sanitation is on its way. Meet for Mandatory Debrief upon yours and 045's arrival." The Head Unspeakable ended the communication, causing the mirror to go black.
"HOWFUR CIRCE'S TITS DID THIS HAPPEN?!" Sinéad's Scottish brogue was thick in furious outrage.
Number 5 growled, eyes turning black as Bodvar's ursine form threatened to break through.
"I'll tell you how; there's a bloody leak in the DRCMC! And believe you me, I intend to plug it!"
AN 1: 'Nuntius' isn't the official name of an Inner Circle Death Eater. It simply means 'messenger', and is the codename used by whomever else needs to communicate with Arachne (or Miss Direction, Mr. January, etc.)
AN 2: I hope you enjoyed the clash between Bradamante and Miss Demeanor, it was quite a bit of fun to write!
AN 3: The role of Sinéad Prewett/Number 63 is played by Karen Gillan in her role as Amy Pond (Dr. Who). Number 5/Godric Stump is played by Tom Baker in his role as the Fourth Doctor. His bear animagus Bodvar is based on Bödvar Bjarki - the bearman hero of the Hrólfs saga kraka.
AN 4: SPAAM and PAC, what a tangled web of disaster that will weave. Stay tuned!