The Nature of the Void
Seventh January Nineteen Ninety Two
"– As the investigation into the explosion at Malfoy Manor continue, Aurors say they have found a breakthrough in their investigations.
A source within the department says the explosion was not an accident and that an improvised muggle device was used to cause this most heinous act of terrorism.
Amelia Bones, the head of the DMLE was unavailable for comment although the source within the department did confirm the prime suspect is a Muggleborn.
The healers have finally released the list the deceased which can be found in the special edition of the Daily Prophet being covered by special correspondent Rita Skeeter.
Daily Prophet special correspondent Emily Bones was able to get a few words from Draco Malfoy, one of the survivors who had this to say –
"–Those responsible for this will not get away! This was clearly an attack on my Father who survived. We will have our revenge. Mark my words!"
"–As you heard Lucius Malfoy is one of the survivors although it is unclear if he was intended to be the target as many prominent purebloods have fallen to this terrible attack.
No group has formerly taken credit for this attack and we hope the Aurors will be able to find those responsible and bring them to justice.
This is Radio correspondent Patricia Potter signing out."
"Blimey!"
Ronald Weasley's reaction seemed to sum it up.
The tragedy at Malfoy Manor was all everyone could talk about. Hogwarts had reopened and their only source of information was the radio. Nobody had the patience to read newspapers except for nerds. At least, that was the idea in house of Gryffindor.
"There is going to be backlash for this," Cho Chang said worriedly.
In the house of Ravenclaw, almost everyone was surrounding the Daily Prophet devouring Rita Skeeter's article.
Everyone except Harry Potter - who was curled up in one of the many niches of the common room. The Ravenclaw common room was unique in the fashion that instead of chairs and sofas, the walls had numerous niches made comfortable with pillows and light that seemed to be radiating from the wall itself. It was their study bunk in the room and was rarely seen empty.
The common area had only a thick, furry soft blue carpet on which students were sitting or lying down on with their noses deep in the Daily Prophet.
"Do you think purebloods are going to target the muggleborns now?" asked Penelope Clearwater with a bit of fear as she was one of them.
There were already rumours of clashes in Diagon Alley. Groups of pureblood youths targeting half-bloods and mud-bloods.
"We have to stick together," said Roger Davies, his voice clear and commanding. All the Raven's looked up to him as a leader. He smoothened out the pages of the Prophet and continued to read the explosive article.
–Brace yourselves reader. It was a homemade muggle device! Yes you heard right. An enchanted muggle made bomb (muggle expert Devon Smith speculates it's what is called a pipe bomb). This brings to fore a number of terrifying questions. Have the muggles discovered us and are working with enemies of the Ministry? Are the witch burnings of the sixteen hundreds about to return? Was this a strike by the muggleborn community upset with the lack of progress on the Muggle born rights bill!? Or was it an insidious plot by a dark wizard!
Whatever be the truth. The fact remains, it was a muggle bomb which, in cold blood, killed our beloved members of Wizengamot and we can deduce it was someone with knowledge about MUGGLES.
Keep an eye out for more from your favourite correspondent Rita Skeeter in the coming weeks!
"This is going to be bad," summed up Roger Davies.
Sitting in the niche, with a book in his lap and a stack of more books on runes stuffed beside him, Harry Potter remained oblivious to the alarming chain of events happening in Magical England.
In the house of Hufflepuff, everyone surrounded Head Girl Tonks as she read from her position on the big bean bag, about the latest news on the attacks on Malfoy Manor.
"Francis Nott Senior, Gregory Nott Junior, Narcissa Malfoy, Marcus Flint, Bianca Parkinson and Jeffery Goyle have been confirmed dead and there are still seven others in critical condition but they might pull through.
Lord of the Wizengamot; Lucius Malfoy is confirmed to be alive but in an unstable condition."
Tonks looked up, her hair changing colour from yellow to brown. Her loyal Hufflepuffs looked at her; all seated cross-legged around her with the worry plain in their eyes.
"What shall we do Head Girl Tonks?" asked fourth year Cedric Diggory.
"Be loyal, stay away from conflict and crush those who pick on us," Tonks said firmly. "We will do what we always do. Protect each other!" Tonks smiled warmly inspiring her fellow Puffs to do the same.
The common room of Slytherin was the only house where all the students were gathered in the common room, not saying a word and not bothering to hear the news or read it.
Draco, Theodore and Pansy hadn't returned at the start of term. Flint's death and the death of other upstanding members of society was being mourned. Daphne Greengrass sat among them pretending to care while guilt ate her away from the inside. When she heard the news the morning after, she was incredibly happy, she had laughed with joy, screamed into her pillow with happiness at the success of her revenge but then the reactions that followed after the news and the student body's horror at the event turned her joy into guilt.
Her joy turned to doubt and then she began to feel guilt for the terror she had sown into the hearts of the wizarding world. She was beginning to fully understand the consequences of her actions.
Tracey held Daphne's hand comfortingly, misunderstanding her fallen expression for sadness. "I understand you're upset Daphne," she said softly. But don't let depression haunt you. If you need someone to talk, you know I'm here right?"
Someone to talk to… Daphne's mind strayed to Harry.
"Are you listening Daphne?"
"Thanks Tracey," she said dully. "I'll be fine. I'm just," Daphne struggled with words, "I'm just finding it difficult to absorb all that has happened," she said carefully.
"Just talk about it," Tracey urged. "Let it out."
Daphne smiled feebly. Tracey was right. She did want to confess. She did want to scream and tell someone what she did and how she was feeling. But who would listen and not betray her secret?
She suddenly stood up with a start, surprised Tracey.
"I gotta go," she said abruptly and hurried out of the common room. The name was always there in her mind. Depression had fogged it and now it was like the mist had cleared and she saw the name.
Harry.
If there was anyone she could hope won't betray her secret. It was Harry.
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Azkaban
Albus Dumbledore, Amelia Bones and Cornelius Fudge sat wearily in the holding cell where prisoners were brought one after the other to be interrogated.
"This is pointless Dumbledore," Fudge said tiredly. Being around the Dementors was bad enough and talking with insane inmates was even worse.
"It has to be done Cornelius," Dumbledore sighed.
"But why I do I have to be here!"
"The public needs to know you care Minister," Amelia Bones snapped. "Now be quiet. This is the last prisoner to be interrogated. Bring him in Warden."
The metal doors to the dark and cold room creaked open and a short thin man, with almost no hair was shoved in. He was snivelling and sobbing and was pathetic in general. The Dementors had done a real number on him.
Dumbledore stared at the man with no pity. He was the lynch pin that triggered events of unspeakable horrors.
"Have a seat Mr Pettigrew."
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Ninth January Nineteen Ninety Two. The Library: Restricted Section.
The castle was buzzing. The noise was so persistent and chaotic that it forced Harry to find the deepest darkest parts of the castle in the search of quiet.
The restricted section was one such place where the void sang and the grating noise of people remained absent. Harry spread the void all around him, stretching as far was it could go, feeling, tasting and absorbing the ancient magic of the library. He could feel the thousand minds that walked these mysterious long alleys of books that have been imparting knowledge of magic through generation after generation of children who became men and monsters.
Harry Potter closed his eyes and breathed it all in. He was beginning to understand. Understand the nature of the void. He could feel it now; that he had never felt before. It's sentience. It's potential to allow vessels to harness and understand the mysteries of magic. The Void was part of him. A piece of magic that reached out and tried to go back to its source every time he summoned it.
Dumbledore's words whispered through his conscious.
To find the source of magic.
Harry wondered if the answer lay in the books before him. Words of magic. Pronounced to summon and change its form as commanded. Magic was akin to language and Harry wondered if like a language, words of magic had meaning. And if the meaning transformed into what muggles would call miracles. If so, then how many words could be there? Could those words be made into sentences? Paragraphs? Stories?! The possibilities where endless and his limit was only his imagination.
Two students walked past him, giggling and fondling each other as they went past him. Students unaware and uninterested in the wonders of this library and magic.
A deep desire of anger made him want to use magic and teach those pitiful wizards and witches what one could do with magic. Show them power so terrifying that they bowed and begged for forgiveness for using magic like spoilt babies who only attempted to talk and succeeded only in crying. It was pathetic.
Harry traced the letters of advanced runes delicately with his fingers as he studied about structuring runes into complex formations in order to mould magic into intentions that translated into specific forms of magic. To make a broom float, for example. To change colours of a robe or expand the bottom of a trunk. The books all mentioned runes were being forgotten and left behind was because spells and wands had been invented.
No one had the patience to speak the language of magic anymore. They only wanted it translated for them and communicated to others without bothering to understand what was being said.
The void began to simmer.
They need to learn. Will we teach them? Survival of the fittest.
Strange dreams began to take shape in his mind. Images of the past. The desert. Solitude. The struggle to survive. It all began to warp and create an idea that was not yet clear to Harry.
"I knew I'd find you here," a sweet and strong voice penetrated the fog that was his mind and green eyes snapped open.
"Daphne," Harry said strangely. Sort of acknowledging her presence and wanting her to go away at the same time. She had a habit of lifting a veil before eyes and bringing him back to reality.
He had a habit of getting lost in the void.
"Hey Harry."
She sounded odd. The void reached out and felt sadness and pain. It was revolting.
"What did you do?" he asked with a frown and a twitch of his lips that Daphne interpreted to be a grimace.
"What do you mean?" she squeaked. How the hell did he know?!
Harry gestured at her vaguely and looked her up and down like he was looking inside her and was disgusted by what he saw. He looked away and into his book losing interest in her.
Daphne's heart was pounding. "I…," she hesitated. Once again asking if she was doing the right thing. Could she really trust Harry? The urge to confess her sin was too much.
Harry turned a page.
"I," she began more strongly. "I killed a lot of people," she burst. "Bad men and women. Some, innocent but mostly bad." She was trying to convince herself that all of them were evil to ease her guilt. "They hurt me so I killed them. I keep waiting for someone to tell me it's not my fault. I was forced to do this because of them! I didn't want to do this!"
Harry frowned. "But you did do it," he said feeling a bit confused. "Aren't you proud?"
"I… I should be," she said miserably.
Harry looked up. Suddenly his eyes went wide and there was a grin on his face. He almost looked delighted.
He understood what she had done. Her core was beginning to make sense now. He looked past the muck of depressing emotions and found those he valued: Revenge, death, power.
A tear rolled down her cheek. "I don't know why, but I feel so terrible. I know it was revenge for what those people did to my family! I made them pay but it doesn't feel good. I only feel guilty. I feel so damn guilty!"
"Only the strong survive," Harry said, his voice soft and clear. "The weak are erased by the strong." Harry looked her in the eye and asked, "Are you weak or are you strong?"
Daphne's heart wavered. And then with a will born from hardship, she tried to break free of her depression. She straightened her back and summoned her confidence. "I am strong," she whispered. "I am."
"We will see," smirked Harry. Magic was the true judge.
Wallowing in her guilt and self-pity, Daphne never got a chance to ask Harry about being in prison. It would be long before she could get a chance to ask again because Professor Snape showed up out of the blue and stared down at them, his black eyes glittering coldly.
"Professor Snape!" Daphne gasped.
"Ms Greengrass, Mr Potter. You two are ten minutes late for detention," he said. He was not pleased.
Daphne looked down at her watch and winced. It had stopped working two hours ago if it was nine at night already. "Sorry professor. I was looking for Harry to remind him as well," she said lamely.
"You found him. Now move."
Daphne stood up half-heartedly. She sighed internally at the thought of being at Filch's mercy, and that too alone now that she had blown up Flint and Draco was in mourning. At least she was better off than Harry who had to do god only knew what with Hagrid the gamekeeper in the Forbidden forest!
"You too Mr Potter. Or do I have to drag you along?"
Harry stood up and gave Snape a blank stare. He had retreated to into the Void.
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Forbidden Forest
While Daphne was subjected to sorting through Filch's doom box of confiscated items, Harry was being introduced to the Forbidden Forest.
"Alright there Harry?!"
Harry was fascinated by the way magic flowed through Flobberworms.
"'arry?"
It moved through them incredibly slow. With every bite of cabbage leaves, magic was pulled through their boneless bodies like a banana shake through a straw. Only slower and thicker. It was a dull yellow colour and a bit of it stayed stationary in the centre of the worm as if in a sack.
Harry was squatting at poking the worms with his pinky. He was trying to replicate the dull yellow colour with the void and wondered what would happen if he sped up their process.
"You okay there Harry?" Hagrid was looking at Harry bemused. They were in a clearing a few hundred meters into the forest where he bred the Flobberworms for Snape.
It was a full moon night and the howls of wolves and occasional croak of toads permeated what was otherwise a beautiful night with clear skies bathed in moonlight.
Suddenly the worm Harry was poking at exploded with a pop and Harry fell back on his ass his eyes wide with surprise.
Hagrid hurried over to Harry alarmed. "Wha' happened?"
"Too much yellow," Harry giggled. He wiped the pale white goo off his face with his sleeve and slowly stood up. There was an ancient magic that moved through the trees. It rose from the ground and flew with the whistling breeze. It had no colour but Harry could feel its weight. It was different from the library. Almost like a different dialect.
Hagrid laughed uncertainly. "Well be careful yea? Professor Snape ain't gonna be pleased if his Flobberworms are not of the right fatness. Feed them one quarter piece of cabbage leaf at a time. Let em' finish it whole and wait for fifteen seconds before you feed them the next. The process has to continue for two hours."
"Why?" Harry couldn't help but wonder.
"Something to do with the moon and magic I reckon," Hagrid said with a shrug. "Now come'n. We can't be wastin' time."
Harry ignored the giant man. He wanted to go deeper into the forest. He could smell the powers that lay hidden within its depths. He started walking.
"Hey! Where you goin?!" Hagrid rushed over to Harry and grabbed him with a thick palm and dragged him back.
Harry hated being touched. He lashed out with the Void, an expression of hate on his face and fury in his eyes.
He saw the Void scream out of his palm's with the triple the force he had used on the boys in school and watched it wash over the giant like nothing had ever happened.
Harry's expression changed comically to shock.
"What are ye' so angry about?" Hagrid said, completely clueless as to what had just transpired.
"N-nothing." Harry's eyes were wide and his mind was wrapping itself around the fact that the giant was unaffected by the void. He was so shocked that he didn't even protest when he was forcefully led back to the Worms.
Harry calmed his mind and pulled at the Void as deeply as he could. He directed it all at the giant with the intent to carry him and throw him into the forest but he could only blink in shock as the void failed to get a hold of him. Magic slid off his skin like soap on marble. It was a truly amazing thing to watch.
His interest in the giant grew tenfold. What other creatures were there in the magical world that could shrug off the void like a giant? Harry turned toward the dark depths of the forest and his green eyes glowed like those of a predator. Suddenly his interest in magical creatures rose like a boiling geyser of curiosity.
"What kind of creatures are there in the forest Mr Hagrid?" Harry asked. He was beginning to like the giant. Anyone who was strong had Harry's respect and the giant was clearly strong. Much stronger than him.
For now.
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Weeks rolled into months and soon the end of the year was upon them. The days had rumbled on and Harry was reminded of his routine life at Janus. There was an air of tension and desire for things to continue the way they were after the news that had the entire castle in uproar.
Daphne continued to bother him and he vaguely noticed her, being completely entrapped by runes and the books on magical creatures that his new friend Hagrid had loaned him.
With Dumbledore's permission Harry was allowed to explore parts of the forest. The headmaster was oddly pleased that Harry was talking, actually talking and asking questions, engaging in idle conversation with Hagrid.
The end of year feast was upon them and Harry sat at the corner of the house table, eating by himself, carefully cutting his pork into tiny little pieces before consuming them whole. There was a two seat gap beside him and three seats in front of him before his other housemates took up seats. The headmaster made some speech and the colours above the hall turned green and silver.
That night Harry slept peacefully before the day to leave school arrived. Harry was not interested in going back to Janus. He wanted to explore. He wanted to experience what his books romanticised. The Desert came to his mind.
After he found himself a compartment in the train, he was joined by Daphne just before the train began to move out.
He blinked when he saw her. Something had changed. The muck that was confusing her core was gone. It was an angry red now. The colour of hate.
Harry smiled at her approvingly and his eyes met her cold blue ones that were burning with a fire that Harry liked. Harry was glad it was back. He had the strangest feeling when he thought back at the time it had gone. It was right after she had mentioned something about killing some people she hated.
His eyes travelled down to her hand to the newspaper being crushed in her fist.
Daphne threw the paper and sat down with a growl of rage.
Harry giggled and his eyes drifted to the paper that was slowly uncurling itself.
There was a somewhat familiar face on the front page although he could not place it.
In a compartment not far from them Hermione Granger sat with people she supposed she could call friends.
"He looks so hideous," Parvati breathed dramatically.
"Creepy," agreed Ron Weasley, stuffing his face with chocolate frogs.
Opposite him Neville looked at the newspaper sadly. He hoped Draco would be alright. He had been devastated to learn Draco had been pulled out of school and transferred to Drumstrang.
Lucius Malfoy adorned the front page of the Daily Prophet and boy did he look scary.
His long hair was gone. It was now closely cropped to his head and showed no signs of reverting to its smooth and silky properties. There was an ugly burn just below his ear, extending down the left of his neck and disappearing into his robes. He was sitting in a wheelchair and thanks to the moving qualities of a magical photo the lack of legs was easily noticeable under the black robes.
Lucius Malfoy had survived but not without paying a high price.
Neville read the article again.
"I believe this was an attempt on the Minister for Magic."
It was the first interview Lucius Malfoy had agreed to after his near death. He had survived because of his quick and silent conjuration of a shield has soon as he noticed the flare of fire from the Christmas tree. His instinct had saved his life.
"What makes you say that Lord Malfoy?"
The article was another exclusive by Rita Skeeter.
"I believe it was an attempt by the Werewolf community in retaliation to the Werewolf rights bill that I helped reject in the Wizengamot. As you know, my family and other upstanding purebloods who perished in the cowardly attack on my home and family have been working very hard to bring back the culture of our ancestors that is being forgotten because of the sudden influx of muggle born graduates in our community.
"Are you certain?
"The timing of the attack is too coincidental. And I'm sure you're aware, werewolves have a great presence in the muggle world as well.
"So what do you plan on doing about this? Do the Aurors have any suspects in custody?
"Several. However Minister Fudge has been too rattled by the incident to act on the information provided.
"Minister Fudge? But he wasn't even there when the attack took place. Thank fully he had left and survived the attempt!
"Minister Fudge has lost his courage. The loss of several of his supporters has made him panic and sadly he has become unfit for the station he holds.
"What are you saying Lord Malfoy?
"I'm saying that I am going to call for a No Confidence vote in Minister Fudge in the Wizengamot and then I am going to stand for elections myself! Our world had found the need for a strong leader and right now, Cornelius Fudge is not that man."
Lord Malfoy chose to leave after this spicy revelation! Dear readers, can you believe this? Even after surviving a terrible attack at his home, Lord Malfoy's will is unbroken and stronger than ever!
Now with the rising ember of unrest in our community, the need for a powerful man at the helm of our government is greater than ever!
Keep your eyes on this space for more from your favourite correspondent Rita Skeeter.
Across pockets of magical communities across England, Scotland and Ireland, the ripples of rumours that originated from a manor in London gradually grew into a wave with teeth. A tsunami of uncertainty was looming over Magical Britain.
No one could tell when it would crash.