Happy Halloween! many thanks to those who continue to leave such thoughtful and inspiring reviews. I am still so thoroughly surprised how well this story has taken over as the most popular of anything I have written, but I love it nonetheless! Please keep up the wonderful support as we proceed into the next chapter! ~F
Chapter Thirty Seven
Knowledge, Power and Sacrifice
Alastor was concerned that Albus was making a terrible mistake in siding with the warlocks for any reason, even in facing something as monstrous and horrific as these supposed 'Old Gods.' Nevertheless, for the opportunity to get Merlin's aid in defeating the insane boy and locking up the rest of the Death Eaters which Moody still highly suspected had joined forces with Potter, he would play nice and continue to closely observe the movements of these warlocks when they interacted with Albus and Merlin, for the inevitable betrayal that he felt was going to result of this union.
However, that didn't mean he had to allow them to wander free when they were apart, hence why he was back at the Ministry after scouting out Malfoy Manor, trying to convince Amelia Bones of the pressing need to reinvestigate the former Death Eaters for any further criminal activities. He had sensed a great deal of magical energy, of many varying types at the pureblood home, and regardless of the current ban from the office of the Minister for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to get involved with the man, he was going to bring his opinion to the only person in the entire Ministry that he felt would at least agree, regardless of whether she could do anything about it.
"For the last time Alastor, it is not without our rights as law enforcement to go about prying into people's lives, as much as you and I both disagree," the woman said stubbornly, glaring at the gnarled old Auror through her monocle. Alastor knew Amelia probably better than anyone in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and he had already expected his response, but he still had to make the attempt.
"I understand how we're bound by the laws of our country, Amelia," he stated gruffly, "but mark my words, there will be a great deal of trouble if this business is not rooted out quickly, and I daresay that I know for a near fact that those old followers of the Voldemort are deeply involved. Once part of the Dark Arts, always part of it, you know how the old saying goes."
Amelia flinched as if struck at the sound of the name, but more out of anger than fear, which was one of the things that Alastor greatly respected the woman for. He himself had only started speaking the name again once he learned of the greater threat to their world that existed just outside the confines of space, the Burning Legion.
"I do," Amelia confirmed, "but my hands are still bound by anything the Minister deems within his rights to order, and we are to leave those acquitted," she stressed the word, as though swallowing something bitter, "men alone to their private lives of luxury and political position."
Alastor could see that he was steadily rushing onto thinner and thinner ice with his former boss by continuing to push the matter, and therefore he quickly switched topics. "Aright then, we leave them alone for now, but what about Peter Pettigrew? Has the Minister done anything about trying him for the allegations brought up from Albus, Snape and myself?"
Amelia ground her teeth together, looking as though she had been slapped across the face and was forced to smile about it, "the Minister is dragging his feet regarding that matter, hoping that we will catch Black before it comes to acknowledging that we have the man in custody and he can just sweep all this nonsense under the rug."
She paused, adjusting some paperwork on her desk, before continuing to speak, "Until then, or whenever the man decides to change his mind, we have to keep the other one who may be Pettigrew in a minimum security holding cell," Alastor was about to explode into a rage at those words, but Amelia's hand shot up to stop him, and she continued quickly, "but I make sure that at least two Aurors are watching him at all times, just so he doesn't have much of a chance of escaping even if he uses his little trick as you so clearly pointed out he was capable of. As it stands, I fear it's only a matter of time before he escapes or is simply released for a lack of evidence."
The anger radiated off the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in waves, and Alastor knew that passionate fire all too well. Amelia Bones had lost most of her family to the terrorist attacks of the Dark Lord Voldemort, and she most among anyone wanted to prosecute any suspected Death Eaters immediately, but Fudge was incompetent, and wanted more than anything to spare his good image, even from perceived attacks that rightly couldn't be attributed to him. A pure politician if there ever was one.
"I see," Alastor said diplomatically, reigning in his own temper and rising from the hardback chair he had been sitting in for the near hour of his private meeting with his old employer, "Well you keep giving the both of them hell until they wake up to the situation, and I'll continue to work with Albus to prepare against any more future threats."
Amelia's face softened, but only slightly, "What's the old man planning this time?" she asked, in part curious and in part worried. Amelia knew for a fact, as did Alastor, that if Fudge decided that Albus was in any way a threat to him, that he would without hesitation sick Amelia and her Aurors against them, even though they knew the threats that Albus was helping them against, and they would have little choice for the sake of their own careers and lives but to do as they were told.
"Oh, the usual," Alastor said dismissively, knowing that keeping Amelia in the dark as to their specific actions was what she wanted, "fighting the dark forces, saving the world, that sort of thing."
"Hmph," she said, shuffling some of the piles of papers on her desk, "at least someone is doing something productive with their retirement."
Alastor smirked as he left. From Amelia Bones, that alone was high praise indeed.
Still, it gave Alastor motivation to do more, if he could, to prove that there was a need to stop these fancy nobles that were clearly still servants of the Dark Arts and bring them to justice. They already had Sirius report back to Albus that he spotted Lucius Malfoy on the continent, looking into foreign wand makers near to Durmstrang of all things, but beyond that they had little leads as to what any of them were up to.
Albus had recalled Sirius back to Hogwarts nonetheless, worried that he might have been seen and recognized, and besides that there had been so sign of Potter in over a month there, which probably meant that the boy was elsewhere or securely hidden from their sight. Alastor's job was to teach the young scion of the House of Black the arts of a Mage, and hopefully increase their numbers before Morgan tried something else, forcing them all back together to fend of whatever madness she sought to bring back to light on their world.
The horrors that they had fought already were shown to Sirius, to impress the gravity of the situation, but the connection to his Godson were not yet made fully known to him, a notion that Alastor did not agree with, but Albus stated flatly that Sirius was not to be told for his own mental stability. He was still just fresh out of Azkaban after all, and learning that his best friend's son had taken up the mantle of the Dark Arts might just be the last straw that mentally broke him completely.
Apparating back to just outside Hogsmeade, as Sirius would not be able to adequately hide in the castle with all the children around for their classes, Alastor made his way toward the slops of the mountain range that encompassed the area. There was a cave here that was hidden from most eyes, mundane or magical, that Albus and Alastor had prepared as a sort of refuge for Sirius to stay in. It had most of the common furnishings that one could want, barring the capabilities to make his own food, but that couldn't have been helped without even more work that they lacked the time to do.
Sirius was there when Alastor arrived, looking extremely bored and on edge, the usual state of affairs for the man at present. He spun around and raised his wand as Alastor stomped in, but relaxed when he spotted who it was. "Oh, Moody, good, I was growing worried when you were a few minutes late."
"I'm never late," Alastor said, "Your clock is three minutes twenty-six seconds too fast."
Sirius laughed; a nervous sound that was in no way familiar to the booming bark that it used to be before the fated Halloween night. Alastor didn't comment, and he proceeded to set out the small package of food that he was also delivering to Sirius to keep him out of trouble, for the most part.
Both he and Albus were thoroughly aware that Sirius would not function being cooped up in this cave day in and day out, and did sneak around in his animagus form all the time for fresh air and a bit of excitement, but so long as he was careful there was no need to rebuke him regarding it, so they decided to let the prankster have his fun. The only concern was the proximity of the Dementors that Fudge had still outright refused to recall to Azkaban.
"Nevertheless," Alastor said after Sirius started tearing into the food, prepared by the Hogwarts elves and aided by nutrient potions that Snape had grudgingly supplied, not that Sirius was told about them, "Are you prepared for another lesson in Arcane Magic?"
"I still don't understand," Sirius tried to say between mouthfuls, "why we need to learn all this extra magic for? Voldemort is gone, and whatever madness that you and Dumbledore have been fighting can't be all that bad right?"
"You've been locked in Azkaban up until this previous summer Sirius, there is a lot that you are unaware of as of yet," Alastor replied, using his one little jab at Albus' lack of honesty, "there has been several major changes as of late, and these new foes which threaten not only the magical world, but much, much more, use powers that we are only beginning to understand. Merlin has returned, Sirius," he added, trying to emphasis the severity of the situation, "and has told us of the power of this… Burning Legion… and their demonic masters who exist well beyond the scope of our skies."
"Yeah, yeah I understand all of that," Sirius said, getting slightly frustrated, "I just don't get why I had to abandon my search for Harry to start preparing for a war that I'd rather take my godson far away from."
Alastor hesitated, which even Sirius picked up on, but the scarred Auror wondered how much he was allowed to say, "Harry Potter is… like his father would be, in the thick of all this mess. The creatures that had kidnapped him have been seen multiple times, consorting with these demons and we suspect they work toward bringing the Legion to our world under any means necessary."
Sirius coughed, choking on some fire whiskey he had been drinking. Sputtering as he tried to get air into his lungs, he turned sharply and looked at Alastor wildly, "Harry is mixed up with these demon cultists? Why didn't Albus say that in the first place, if I need this magic to fight them and save my godson, I'll be the best damn mage you have." He said, the inner fire that Alastor remembered from the old days returning in an explosion of desperation. Setting the bottle aside, Sirius stood, knocking his chair back in his haste, "Let's go, right now, we've not a moment to lose if it means saving my godson."
Alastor wondered which of them was going to regret the eagerness of Sirius Black in these lessons now, but obliged, moving the objects of the room aside with a wave of his wand, before watching as the former prisoner conjured flames as he had been taught previously, albeit with far more dedication and concentration than he had ever expressed before.
Cautiously warding the area around them, Alastor began, weaving the techniques of flame around them instructionally, showing more than telling Sirius how to accomplish each feat of pyromancy. The man had taken to it naturally before, and now he consumed every scrap of knowledge like his animagus form would water, nearly competing with Alastor on every concept he could handle.
Alastor already knew that it was much the same with each of them, knowing that their world was threatened was a very good motivator toward improving their skills, and already Albus had reached a powerful epiphany, understanding knowledge of how to create temporary portals to various locations he had previously been, giving him unique insight on how Potter might plan to bring the Legion to their world.
Merlin helped occasionally, but for the most part he was watching for signs of Morgan le Faye to make her move, so they were more or less still left to their own cleverness to unlock mysteries of this new power source.
But watching someone like Sirius Black pick up this sort of magic with what appeared to be great ease; Alastor felt a smattering of confidence that they just might make it out of this bleak situation alive, and even better, with their world intact.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione could sense changes in the air from day to day, through the power of the Arcane. Powerful forces were moving in the world, and it seemed as though the source of her power, the Leylines, actually quivered in fear at the prospects of their awakening. She did not understand all that it meant, but those were the sensations that she felt whenever she dwelled on the thoughts she sometimes randomly was given.
A few of their Professors, the ones that Hermione knew possessed the knowledge of the Arcane, along with the old Auror, Moody, seemed increasingly on edge as well, hurrying along with their daily tasks as though there was something drastically more important for them to be doing.
Hermione did not like being left out of the loop about something this important, which was why she was here, walking up to the gargoyle that hid the secret staircase up to the Headmaster's office, so that she could ask him what the dreadful matter was and set her curiosity to rest.
Only, she was at a loss for what the current password that gained access might actually be. Standing in front of the uncaring hunk of stone for several moments, she tried in vain to riddle out what the secret phrase might be, before the statue moved of its own accord, making way as voices started to be hearable from up the stairs hidden behind it.
Hermione felt a moment of surprise, and the sudden urge to hide herself, but stood her ground, knowing that there was nothing that she ought to be afraid of here at Hogwarts, or at least nothing to fear coming down from the Headmaster's office.
"So you are sure that you searched all of Morgan's previous hiding places and secret strongholds?" Professor Dumbledore was saying, as he and a much younger man appearance around the spiral stairs, descending down to the same level as the corridor on which Hermione stood.
The young man shook his head, lightly tossing the brown beard he sported as he replied, "Yes, most of them were destroyed by the passage of time, and what few others that were intact remain undisturbed. She has gone to ground somewhere, or had some secret place that I was unaware of, but I will find her in the end, don't worry about that Albus. Morgan will not escape me again."
Hermione knew it wasn't her place to listen in on a private conversation, but she was immensely curious at the powerful swell of Arcane Magic that encircled the stranger, far more powerful than herself, or even Professor Dumbledore, who she had recognized had surpassed her already in the arts.
"Well, keep us all informed of the moment she is located, so we can come help prevent her from unleashing… Ah, Miss Granger…" Professor Dumbledore said, interrupting their conversation to shift attention to her.
The stranger turned, his eyes dancing with amusement at seeing her, and somehow Hermione knew that this man was well aware of her potential with the Arcane. "I was unaware that you were training others, especially children, with the power Albus…" he said jovially, as though the notion actually pleased him.
"Alas, no, Miss Granger has done quite a bit of her own self study, and taught many of her classmates the arts of the Arcane. It is from her that I and my associates learned of its potential, and have in turn helped her where our knowledge exceeded her own." The Headmaster replied truthfully.
"I see," the unknown man replied, eyes still twinkling delightedly, "Still, it is good to see that the Arcane Order has not fallen away completely in the time I have been away from the world. Dark though the times may yet be, hope remains so long as the Order of Mages endures."
"The Order of Mages?" Hermione asked curiously, and the man smiled wider still.
"You mean to say that this development of Arcane magic is a new rediscovery. All the better then," the man said, eyes sparkling with restrained excitement, "as it is high past time that the Order be reformed. Yes, dear child you have stumbled upon a great secret, that the very order of the Wardens of Avalon had for long ages been powerful Magi, guarding the secret lands from outside perversion. Although I believe our current catastrophe could have been averted if any of the old orders had survived, but such was not to be. If I am to imprison Morgan le Faye once more in the sacred realm, I will need those I can trust to secure the portal from this side and keep it secret from the eyes of the world, for their own safety."
Something clicked in Hermione's mind as she heard the name of the ancient witch and rival of the most famous wizard to ever live. "You are Merlin, also known as the Guardian of Avalon…" she said, recounting the brief mentions of him that older tomes had recorded, including the strange title that seemed to fit along with the Order of which he had spoken.
"Yes, although the title of Guardian was passed through many others long before I held it," Merlin replied, seeming to be absolutely delighted that she had so quickly guessed the secret of his identity, "I would keep this one close Albus, her potential is vast, and I can see glimpses that she will be of great importance in the future. The Spirits of the Earth are rarely wrong on these matters." He added, glancing back to Professor Dumbledore momentarily.
"I must take my leave, young Mage," the man continued, patting her gently on the shoulder as he passed by her, "but I wish you well on your journey to inherit all the power that you are able to in this life, and I warn you to beware of the temptations of the Fel. Demonic magic seems alluring to the untrained, but the wise and prudent will tell you that it is a vicious trap meant to lull the weak into a false sense of control, and there consume them for the demons of the Burning Legion to dominate."
Hermione hadn't a clue what Merlin was speaking about, but he left in a great hurry afterward, leaving her and the Headmaster alone. "Well, Miss Granger, I suppose that you know have a great deal more questions than what originally brought you to my office…" Professor Dumbledore said astutely, and Hermione nodded her agreement.
"Well, I have some free time before I must return to work managing the school, so I can easily see what answers I can give, in the briefest of explanations if possible." he allowed, gesturing for her to go ahead of him back onto the staircase, which had not as of yet been covered by the gargoyle that guarded it.
Hermione obeyed, riding the moving staircase to the top, and waiting for the Headmaster to push open the simple wooden door that led to his office. "Please, have a seat. Care for a lemon drop?" he said, and Hermione gratefully took one, relishing the momentary remembrance of the Muggle World, and the novelty of it.
"So," Dumbledore said after a moment, "Where shall we begin?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Teg'Ramm wasn't completely certain what to expect of these strange avian women whose village he and his master had entered, but if Lord Nobu'tan saw a use for them, than the ogre mage wouldn't disagree with him. Many things about the world were still so new to him, and thus far relying on the young warlock's judgment was the safest solution to most problems that caused both of the ogre's heads to throb in pain.
Intelligent though he was, for an ogre, there were many things he yet couldn't comprehend, so relatively soon after his transformation, but he was learning quickly, and could see somewhat the advantage of such powerful magical creatures that these women represented, but the why or the how of swaying them to the purposes of the Legion were still in question.
The women were already extremely caution and distrustful of either of them, which in the long run was the wisest course of action, with what Teg'Ramm knew that either he or his master were capable of, and only had them do the most basic of menial tasks to prove that they meant no harm to their community.
It was dull work, collecting rarer food for them that normally would be dangerous or problematic for the avian women, or disposing of this or that large predator that had grown to being a dangerous pest to them, but still easily done for the powerfully built, two-headed creature.
Meanwhile, Lord Nobu'tan was preparing something to offer the bird-like women, some ritual that seemed to be causing a greenish liquid to pour from some place unknown, through a powerful, yet small, fel portal into a rough carved basin, etched with runes of preservation and glowing malevolently.
Those few people from the village that bothered to come far enough out near the large tent that the pair of them dwelled in as they visited often glanced nervously at the basin, feeling the chill in the air that the Fel magic produced. Teg'Ramm was not privy to what the leader of the community had discussed with his master, the conversation having taken place in private, but it seemed to have amounted to the pair of them proving that their promises were all they were worth before the Veela creatures agreed to any sort of concessions regarding aiding the Black Harvest.
Which was why the ogre mage did everything he could to be helpful to his master, which included garnering favor with the community through the dull tasks that they had available for them to perform.
At last, somewhere close to two or three weeks after they arrived, on an extremely dark night, Nobu'tan summoned the entirety of the village to the place where the basin stood, glowing in the darkness with several torches around it, casting green shadows in all directions.
From somewhere within his robes, Nobu'tan produced a strange, horn-carved cup, etched with more glowing runs and sinisterly shaped, unlike anything from the natural world that Teg'Ramm had experienced.
Dipping the goblet deeply into the yellow-green liquid, Nobu'tan addressed the crowd, holding it aloft. "This is the gift I promised your people, the power to throw off the oppression wizards have forced over you. Drink from this Cup of Unity, a Chalice of Rebirth, and you will be given strength enough to withstand anything that might be thrown against you…"
The leader of the clan of bird-like woman stepped forward, eyeing the sickening looking liquid with a calculating gaze, "and what must we give in return for this gift…" she asked quietly, where only Teg'Ramm, who was nearest to Nobu'tan, could hear.
Nobu'tan looked up from under his hood, eyes gleaming red with the powers of the Fel, "…everything…" he breathed, and the ogre suppressed a shudder at the malevolent seduction that emerged from the mouth of his master. The leader sniffed once more, and accepted the cup from the warlock's grasp, lifting it high for her people to see, before drinking deeply from it.
Nobu'tan stepped forward and retrieved the cup quickly, as the woman staggered from whatever it was that she just consumed, before she transformed immediately to her true, avian form. But the changes didn't stop there. Where the plumage was normally shadows of brown and tawny, now the feathers started to writhe and darken to midnight blacks and sickening Fel greens. The beak and talons grew razor-like and cruel, and the flames that cropped up were the same Fel green that Nobu'tan himself employed in combat.
The worst part was the woman's eyes, going from their majestic gold to a deep crimson as the Fel powers took control. Teg'Ramm realized with a start what it was that the basin and cup contained. Demon Blood... A powerful and direct source of Fel Magic, it alone could inspire such a rapid change of any being.
The woman in bird form rose to her feet, shrieking with triumph and hatred, calling to her flock to come forward, and taking the goblet once more after Nobu'tan refilled it, started to pass it around to her fellows, which each in turn suffered the same transformation while the pair of warlocks looked on in satisfaction.
Their numbers had just increased, and these Fel-touched Veela would be the source of much added strength, since the ogre clan had been significantly weakened. Teg'Ramm understood that he was a weak chieftain of that clan for the moment, but he would rebuild them stronger than ever with time and practice. Perhaps he would receive leave from his master to seek out other clans to enslave and force to join them, and then the process of creating more ogre magi could start once again.
Soon the entire village-worth of women were transformed, screeching to the moonless sky in a riotous madness that brokered no chances of escape for their prey, and Nobu'tan took the basin and cup away, back into their tent and secured them under powerful Fel enchantments, just in case any of the Veela got ideas. Once the warlock returned, he wandered off toward the surrounding dark hills, and Teg'Ramm dutifully followed, just in case his master encountered something that threatened him.
It didn't take terribly long for them to arrive at the destination that Nobu'tan was clearly heading for, a crag between the foothills of a large mountain range, perfectly hidden from most prying eyes unless they came to this place precisely, and Nobu'tan stopped just outside the rocky trench caused by the geographical formation.
"Everything worked exactly as you said it would, mighty Azgalor…" Nobu'tan said to some being that was just out of sight, but nothing prepared Teg'Ramm for the monstrosity that emerged from the shadows. A hulking beast, wielding some sort of double ended sword or spear, stomped out of the crag on four powerful legs, its head and eyes aflame with Fel fire, highlighting the cruel horns and sharp teeth as it spoke, and the nose was like grating stones that made the rocks around them tremble.
"The same powerful bond exists between the orcs of the Horde and mighty Manneroth, so learn well the potential of their strength. The masters of the Legion eagerly wait to come in full force to this world, and use it as a powerful stepping stone to the ultimate prize. Do not fail us, little human…" the being said, even as it disappeared in a flash of Fel magic.
Nobu'tan stayed where he was until the demon was gone, and still waited for several moments longer, deep in concentration, before shaking his head angrily. "Still they withhold that knowledge from me, dangling it like bait to make me dance to their will. Well, so be it, I've already set this world on the path of its destruction, but the Legion better beware crossing me."
"Master?" Teg asked, even as Ramm was too stunned by what had just happened to speak.
"That was one of the Annihilan, a great Pit Lord of the Legion, their enforcers and generals," Nobu'tan explained, "sent to us by Mephistroth to offer his blood in forging these new Fel-Veela. They will have little choice but to serve us with all their new strength, and will be excellent new surprises should Dumbledore and his ilk start to snoop into my plans yet again."
Turning back toward the village, Teg'Ramm could see that the Veela were still thickly in their blood revelry, cries able to be heard from even this far away. "They will need blood soon to keep them satisfied," Ramm commented as Nobu'tan joined their vigil.
"Yes, they will, and I doubt that we'd have much chance of controlling them if we tried to keep them completely secret, but Dumbledore and those in Britain will take no notice if we unleash them here or there out on the continent, until they are needed for our purposes."
"So a location charm upon some object that they will carry, to find them when needed?" Teg said wisely, and his felt the pride at his master's smile.
"Exactly what I was thinking, come; let us prepare some for their leaders." Nobu'tan said, leading the ogre mage back to their tent.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Severus might have finally had a breakthrough with some of the items that Potter had left behind in this hasty flight from the castle. Pouring over the slim notes that had been left, as the boy had been most thorough to remove anything with his writing upon it, he found select lists of what amounted to potions that the boy had routinely created, settled in among the other items.
The names were strange enough, but Severus was able to decipher what planets or animal parts were meant by them, even if the names were off in writing. Most of them were laid out in the piles of herbs that had also been left, so it severely limited the number of guesses that Severus had to make for a few of them, which helped immensely.
He had tried once before, early into watching over Potter as he made this strange potions tried to make one himself, only for it to be a terrible failure, which the boy had found more than amusing and used as his excuse to not teach him anything further, but now Severus tried again for the first time in almost two years.
He was just stirring the second ingredient, a leafy plant that the notes called Silverleaf, into the flowers and water that originally were placed in, and watching in amazement as the potions instantly transformed into the blood red mixture that had been explained to him as a healing potion of sorts.
But why? Why did the process work now, and not before? Had Potter been preventing him from succeeding, so unwilling to share his secrets? Somehow Severus did not think that was the case, as there were too many potential problems with intentionally foiling a potion, many of which could be fatal to all nearby.
If anything, Severus was willing to bet that the phenomenon was tired directly into the powers of the Arcane, and how much of it resided within his body now, after so many months of practicing it, rather than before when he was scarcely aware of it let alone proficient.
There had to be some sort of test to discover the truth, but Severus couldn't at the moment think of anything that wizard magic would be capable of to investigate such a matter. it wasn't as though the energies used were all that different between the Arcane and their wand-based magic, but the methods of casting and intents behind spells were much too rigid to effortlessly cross and interact with each other, part of the reasons that the Aurors seemed to have so much difficulty injuring any of the Arcane or Fel based creatures.
Sensing the all too familiar flash of magic that always heralded the arrival of Merlin, Severus stood. Perhaps there was finally something that he legitimately could ask of the ancient wizard, without allowing himself to devolve into an obnoxious sycophant lusting after the man's power; Severus thought, quoting Merlin himself in explanation as to why the powerful Mage had not returned to their world before this time.
Unsurprisingly, Severus found the ancient wizard up in the Headmaster's office, once again checking in with the news that even more locations had come up empty for any sign of Morgan le Faye. The growing concern about Merlin seemed to be far more taxing than it appeared, as the man seemed rather collected despite his statements to the opposite. Perhaps so long in Avalon dulled one's senses and the Magus just experienced things drastically differently.
"Ah, Severus, how nice of you to join us," Albus said as they turned to include him in their conversation, minutes after he had arrived and had been silently listening in.
"Headmaster, Magus," Severus said respectfully, turning toward Merlin, "I have a few questions regarding a matter of potential usefulness to us." He started, seeming to catch the attention of the far older wizard, appearances aside.
Quickly Severus explained the situation that he had found himself in, regarding the strange method of potion-making that Potter had used, and his previous failed attempts, leading up to his current success with the same task, and posing the question of whether it had to do with the increase of Arcane Magic in his system.
"Well, naturally it has everything to do with the Arcane magic within you." Merlin said, smiling to himself as though Severus was a child that had discovered a simply notion for the first time. "Many aspects of magic are tied directly to the amount of ambient world-magic, or arcane, that resides on the bodies of those who experience it. I daresay any of your students in this castle, whether they touched Arcane magic themselves or not, would soon be able to do the same methods of potioneering, among other pursuits that would have been previously impossible."
At Severus' confused look, Merlin chuckled, and continued, "Arcane magic, once started to be used in an area, churns up like a stirred cloud of dust, landing on anything in the area, and affixing itself to whatever is around. Even those who lack your wizarding magic, if exposed to enough of this Arcane Aura, would be considered somewhat magical in the eyes of the Arcane, and able to perform small acts, such as creating these potions, or working with minor enchanting, progressing to the point where they would be considered quite powerful in the scope of that art. They wouldn't become mages, per say, as they lack the ability to directly manipulate the magic within or around them, but indirectly through those tools they would have opportunity to make a difference."
It was an earth-shattering thought to Severus. Muggles would be capable of these feats if exposed to enough Arcane Magic around them. "Then the world that Potter came back to us from…" he started, but it was Albus that finished in wondering awe.
"Why, it must have been overflowing with this sort of magic…" he breathed.
"Precisely," Merlin agreed, "which explains the actions and interest of the Legion. Such a magically powerful world would be a crown jewel for their crusade to destroy, before the corruption of the Void Lords, their ancient enemies out in the Twisting Nether, had opportunity to fully infect and ruin such a world."
"Ironic that," Severus mused, "in their desire to stop their enemies, these Void Lords, the Legion would be so easily willing to sacrifice everything, even those worlds that they were originally supposed to be protecting from the very same enemies."
"Indeed," Merlin agreed, "I have a feeling, nothing more, that there is far more to this than even I am aware of, but so long as the Legion do not make it onto this world, we are safe. Our energies are best used in stopping Morgan from unleashing the Old Gods, and thereby drawing the Legion to us as the vile darkness spreads like wildfire across our world."
Severus was satisfied however, and nodded. Although it was true, and Morgan was the immediate threat, he did not fully agree that they were safe in ignoring Potter and his desires to summon this demonic horde to their world, and he knew that on the other side of Merlin, Albus agreed.
It seemed that a certain disconnect from reality was a side effect of staying too long in Avalon, and thereby the ancient wizard had lost some of his ability to rationally prioritize goals aside from that which was most important to him alone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sirius panted for air after the latest bout between himself and Mad Eye, his limbs and magic screaming in protest from the strenuous workout that he had just been put through. Speeding through the various aspects of a Mage's magic was terribly difficult, but Sirius was driven by the knowledge that he needed these skills, desperately, to be able to be of use to Albus and rescue Harry from these crazy demon worshipping cultists.
Somehow, it came as no shock that Mad Eye had quickly become so terribly proficient with the magic, despite the old man saying that he barely had under a year of experience with it. It was still far more than Sirius, and it showed. The grizzled Auror was able to toss flames about like they were nothing, still nimbly dodging out of the way of Sirius' retaliations, although the other man chalked it up to his lifetime of fighting and working, while Sirius had been slowly dying in a cell in Azkaban for the last twelve years of his life.
Not that that meant that the old man was going easy on him. Sirius was pleased for that, as he knew Albus would insist on many breaks and their sessions would easily take three to four times longer to cover the same material. Sirius needed to be pushed if he was to succeed, it had been this way since Hogwarts, and being babied because he was malnourished and weak would not help him in the long run.
Still, Mad Eye was a grueling taskmaster, and even he knew when he needed to stop or risk hurting Sirius, so despite his aching muscles, Sirius was fully aware that he had been put fully through the paces of what he was capable of achieving at this present moment. But even still, there was something else on his mind as he hunched over his knees, sucking in air like it was going out of style.
What bothered him was that small hesitation on Moody part when he had arrived hours earlier, when Sirius had asked regarding Harry himself. Something was being hidden from him, Sirius could sense it, but naturally that was the point wasn't it? Those who knew would never tell him, except for perhaps one person. Although, to get in touch with and hold a civil conversation with that one would prove to be the most taxing thing that Sirius ever had to do.
Moody left shortly after, promising that he would return within a week, or to send an owl if he could not, for another session of Arcane-based fire magic, but Sirius was only half listening. Instead he was busy building a plan. He had be known as the skillful plot maker for the Marauders for a reason, and wondered briefly if Moody and Dumbledore had forgotten this fact.
Waiting an appropriate amount of time for the paranoid Auror to actually leave, as it was likely that he spent a great deal of time making sure that no one saw him depart from Sirius' hiding place, the Animagus shifted into the form of the great black dog and slunk out into the still snow covered grasslands around Hogsmeade.
It was complete child's play to sneak around through the forest and onto the castle grounds, despite the lurking Dementors that still plagued the boundaries of the school. When he was exonerated of his false imprisonment, Sirius was going to have a serious talk with Minister Fudge, probably at the end of a wand with a lot of cursing, both magical and normal, about how the man foolishly endangered so many children to capture one supposed prisoner, especially when he had evidence that the man in question was not as guilty as they supposed.
Crossing the snow covered grounds in the imprints by students and others to mask his presence, Sirius slipped into the castle via the open front door, and keeping to the shadows, went to the one location that he loathed above all others: the dungeons.
If he was to have a conversation with the bat, he would need to brave the lair where he dwelled, and Sirius knew that this was going to go very badly very quick. But for the answers he sought he had to go to the one person he could trust to be completely honest regarding it, especially if the truth would hurt him.
Following the powerful scents of potions and their ingredients, Sirius quickly found himself outside an office room with a closed, locked, and probably warded door. Knowing that delaying this would only make it worse for him later, Sirius scratched lightly on the outside of the door, making just enough noise to irritate anyone within, but not enough for it to echo down the halls and alert the students.
Soon enough the door opened slowly, and the sneering face of his longtime rival glared down at him. Sirius didn't give him the chance to close the door again, already working his way through the crack between door and wall, and entering the room. He didn't really care about what disgusting decorations Snape had placed on his office, this was too important. Shifting back to his human form, he looked at Snape with determination. "What happened to Harry?" he asked.
