AN: Meant to post this on New Years but got backed up by work. so Happy New Years everyone. Did anyone see the 20th anniversery special? I was a big bowl of emotion's and got a little teary towards the end. Still! It was nice. Thanks Foxtrot1702 and Naruhina1519 for the cheer! Hope the new year brings you guys good fortune. It'll be a busy week for me so Please Please Please forgive me if I don't post. Anyways, Thanks everybody for reading. Follow/Fav/Review.
It was late into the night that Mortimer found himself doing late night homework. In all honesty, he was having a hard time sleeping. Part of him thought he was pass this stage. Thinking that occlumency would solve all his problems, apparently it couldn't do anything to make him go to sleep.
Speaking if occlumency, he's expecting Professor to contact him sometime this week. The eager boy was anxious, the last memory wasn't a very good one. To be fair, none of them were, but some had been worse than other's. It will be different this time. It has to be.
The other's were thankfully sleeping. Draco was exhausted from practicing that he had slept early. Alone with his companion Tobey, the little snake was minding his own business, resting near the fireplace. Mortimer could tell he hated it here, it was always cold and not enough warmth that the fire place was the only area Tobey could tolerate.
The soft scribblings of his quill filled the common room, he was currently working on herbology, a small essay on mandrakes. Mortimer worked out the details that would lead to the end of the night. He'd write for an hour before going to bed. And in the morning he would write to Aunt Cissy, let her know that everything was fine.
His stomach had begun to make an uproar of noises. "Master is hungry." Mortimer didn't notice Tobey had moved from the fireplace.
Putting a hand on his stomach. "I guess I am."
"I will hunt for you." The dark snake offered.
Gross… A warming thought, Mortimer felt the need the decline. "Thanks Tobey, but I don't think eating a rat will set right with my stomach."
Sliding up his arm, Tobey rests on his shoulder. "I doubt the great hall is serving."
"Under." Tobey simply said.
"What?"
"Under." A repeat, Tobey said it as if it were obvious.
"Under what?" Confused, Mortimer felt the need to be specific.
"I have watched the older humans sneak out at night. There, they go into the dark hall. They come back at night with hands filled with foods." Hissing, there was pause before he unwraps himself and slides down the marble floor. "Follow master. I will provide."
Tobey starts gliding on the floor. He leads his young master out of the common room. The corridors were poorly lit as no student should be out at this time. Mortimer could barely see but it was enough to follow the creature.
"Have you been following students all this time?" Mortimer was starting to question whether he actually knew Tobey.
"You leave the cage open, I go and hunt. Humans often lead me to the substances I need. Where food is, the rats answers its call." Tobey says. He takes Mortimer towards the stairs.
Considering it would take a while for the snake to climb the staircase, Mortimer had instead carried him, then placed him back once they reached the first floor. "What else have you been doing while I was gone?"
"Watched. Listened for enemies." Tobey swishes when they reach the entrance hall.
There was a marble staircase on the left. There, Mortimer again picks Tobey up and heads down where they find themselves in the basement level.
Walking the basement corridor, there was various paintings of foods and unlike the dungeons, it was well lit; easily visible. "Where to?" Mortimer asks.
Tobey stays quiet, and then, "The painting. Touch the painting." He instructs.
"Which one?" Mortimer tilts his head.
"The fruit." He plainly says.
In the middle rested a large frame with an equally large painting of fruit bowl. Walking towards it Mortimer tried reaching the fruit. And at first, nothing appeared to have happened. Then he tried again. "Are you sure this is the right one?"
"Yes." Sticking his tongue out, Tobey tells the boy. "They wiggle their fingers."
"What do you mean?"
"Wiggle." Tobey starts showing him by jiggling his long body.
Mortimer felt slightly ridiculous for having to listen. Touching the painting with his small hand, he starts to 'wiggle' his fingers against it. A soft gasp, the pear starts to shake.
He was close, and after a while, it had occurred to him what Tobey meant. A refresh, mortimer tickles the pear, watching in amazement as it shook in jeer. It became enough for it to cause the frame to open up.
The kitchens have been finally exposed. A tall area, with its wide spaces. Mortimer gazed throughout, seeing stoves counter-tops, pots and pans. There a large brick fireplace that lit up the room. But it wasn't what caught his eye, it was the many elves that were walking around.
There were three of them cleaning a couple of tables that were set out. Another one dusting the ceiling. Two more were cleaning the stoves. And one had began to polish the floor.
"Young human." One of them says, it points to him before strolling near him. "You enter here, for what reason?"
Again, mortimer could never tell whether it was a boy or girl, he could hardly tell with these things. "Uh – Sorry! I was hungry… that's all."
"Hmpf…" The tiny elf stands there for a few seconds before scratching its bald head, it leaves and heads towards a hot stove.
Mortimer waits there, unsure as to what the creature was doing. A few short moments later, it came back with a tray of small sandwiches.
"Mippy has brought young human food." The elf states, setting it neatly on one of the tables, it went towards a cool enchanted cupboard.
"Thank you. . . Mippy." Mortimer appreciatively says. He sits right in the front of the table and begins to eat.
"Most welcome." The elf, Mippy, said just as it pours him a glass of milk.
Mippy leaves Mortimer and goes back to its task of drying the dishes.
Tobey watching his master eat. After a few seconds, happens to slide down from the table. "I will hunt." He tells his master.
"HaffyHunti'n" Mortimer said, his mouth packed with food.
Nothing else was said besides wanting to fill their belly's. And close to an hour, Mortimer had been satisfied, he could no longer take another bite.
Tobey soon returned with a round lump down where his stomach should be. Yep, they have both managed to stop the loud grumblings of their upset stomachs and filled their guts with food.
Once they finished, Mortimer knew he should probably get back before anyone spots him.
Taking Tobey with him, they go back from where they came. Opening the painting's frame, they walk out and race up the stairs. Patrolling the corridor there was nothing amiss, nor a care in his head.
It was only a few minutes into walking back that the not so-normal happened.
"Come. . . Come to me. . ."
He pauses. Digging inside his ear, he thought that maybe there was something lodged in his ear.
He hears it again.
"Let me rip you. . ."
"Uh – Tobey? Was that you?" Maybe Tobey had gone through adolescences in the last hour and had changed his voice.
"No."
". . .Let me tear you. . . Let me kill you. . ."
Was this all in his head? Mortimer looks around the empty hall. There was no one besides him and Tobey. No one that could have said those violent, terrifying words.
"Be gone!" Tobey starts shouting – or hissing.
"Shut up!" Mortimer whispers loudly. He doesn't know what he was trying to grab when he reached for the snake – His mouth, maybe? Anything to get him to stop talking.
Mortimer didn't move, didn't even attempt to make a sound. Tobey was shimmying around Mortimer's fingers as he was being held. What else was there to do besides stand there and wait for impending doom.
However, it never came.
It was strangely quiet. And it was enough for him to start running back towards the dungeons. He doesn't look back out of fear. Tobey, hissing out threats, wasn't helping him calm down either. His legs weren't giving up.
Once he made it to the slytherin common room, he dropped to his knees and let out a loud breath, taking in as much air as possible.
"Master! Master! A creature – Another creature speaks – emerging within the walls!" Tobey wiggles out of his fingers and goes to stand near his face.
"What are you talking about?" Mortimer pants. "Wall? What do you mean the wall?"
Tobey lifts his spine, so that he appeared to be upright. "I hear it. You can hear it. You speak the language! They rest in the walls… Danger, not safe for Master. I must – "
Mortimer puts a hand on his head. "Calm down. I'm the one who's suppose to be freaking out here, remember?"
Shaking his head Mortimer wasn't sure what to do – Who to tell? No. This was all in his head, yeah. . . What he heard didn't happen. What he saw, nothing, nothing at all.
So what was left to do was to simply go to bed. Yes, bed. Bed is what he most definitely needed. Good rest to clear the mind from daffy notions, wacky sounds that didn't exist.
Without a word he grabs Tobey and rapidly heads towards his dorm. Ignoring the snake's warning pleads, he puts him back into the cage. Changing into his jammies, mortimer then throws himself in bed, grabbing a pillow, he hides underneath it.
That voice, he couldn't get rid of that voice. It was sharp, bloodthirsty, it wanted to hurt people. Grave, hauntingly lingering in his ears. If what tobey said was true, then no one was safe. A creature let loose, who could have been responsible. No. He shouldn't get involved. Let Dumbledore, or somebody else, deal with the issue. His desperate attempts at a normal year quickly came tumbling down.
A sigh, he tries to forget but is unsuccessful, the words, its fierce, aggressive voice would frighten anyone.
He'd leave it alone for now.
Office, nine o' clock.
Mortimer read the note Professor Snape had sent, given to him by their prefect, Gemma Farley. A continuation of his previous lesson, he was more than excited to get it underway. And after these pass few days, Mortimer can honestly say he's needed it.
The children around here were just about driving him crazy. The ravenclaw girl, Luna, was someone he couldn't shake off. Always following him, whether it was at the library, the great hall, after class – She appears only from behind. It was beginning to annoy him, more so than Lavender, and that was saying something… Theo was prying, trying to make it seem that he wasn't but failing. He could easily tell just by the way his eyes moved, studying carefully, listening to every word he said as it may leave a clue. Tracey and Daphne were they're usual self's, they could tell something was bothering him, but made no attempt to ask.
Then there was the problem with Tobey…
"Hey Mortimer? What's wrong with your pet snake? Is that normal?" Tracey's soft whispery voice as she sat by him.
Currently sitting outside near the great lake, for an hour the pair found themselves staring at the wiggling creature. In an infinite loop, he circles around himself, as if he were a dog trying to chase its own tail.
It was very unusual for Tobey, "Yeah." Yet, couldn't muster up to tell the truth. "He's fine." Far from it…
It's worse when Mortimer could understand everything the bloody snake was saying.
Not safe.
Danger.
The walls
His brows hanging low and a frown casting over. The chilling voice behind the walls had an ill effect on them. A feeling he couldn't shake off – causing paranoia to his companion.
He's never heard anything quite like it, it is why it was alarming. Thinking that maybe he was insane, hearing voices in his head, spouting out threats that sounded more like promises. It was silly, he doesn't know why it effected him this way or why he couldn't get it out of his ears. All he knew was that there was a danger running among the school. Not a single soul was ever told, he had no one to share it with, other than Tobey here.
"Let's go to the library." Mortimer muttered, he was getting tired of seeing Tobey going around in circles.
Standing up, he only take two steps before he grabs tobey like a string. Other's might have been afraid, but Mortimer knew he was safe amongst the serpents.
"Shouldn't you put him in his cage first?" Tracey wasn't use to the pet, heavily against the idea of letting tobey run free.
Mortimer did thought about it at some point but, certain circumstances cause for attention. Tobey wasn't at the right mind to be left alone. "He'll be fine…" There was doubt. "Besides, he's harmless."
They walked back inside, reaching the great hall, Tracey began to ramble on about today's lessons. Though honestly, he wasn't listening. His thoughts drifting into a new kind of territory, something within the deep of his stomach was telling him something, a warning perhaps?
There was no way to know for sure.
On the first-floor they made it to the library corridor where they were met by the pale ravenclaw girl, Luna Lovegood.
She waved, excited, she ran up to Mortimer. "I'm ready."
A droll stare, he waited for few seconds before replying. "Ready for what?"
"Tutoring." Nodding her head, she shoved her Charms textbook in his face.
Tracey at a loss but was completely silent. "Is everything ok Mortimer?"
Whether he was ok or not didn't matter. "Yeah." Ripping the book at her hand, Mortimer went inside the library, the girls following him inside.
An empty table, they settle themselves and not long after, had began their studies. With Mortimer, explaining the wand-lighting charm, Luna would ever-so comment his pet, Tobey. Tracey, working on Potion's, was doing a revision on the wiggenweld potion. It didn't take long for Daphne to show up just when Mortimer started to lose interest in his work. Somewhat grateful when she took over the session, he became quiet.
Pretending everything was fine, he worked on his own charms assignment, thinking it would make for a good distraction. Succeeding in only frustrating him more when he couldn't focus enough to actually writing a sentence. His ideas and thoughts were nothing but mush text and irrelevant responses.
"Everything alright?"
His eyes darting left, he hadn't notice Theo had arrived, having made himself comfortable, he could tell he's been there for a while.
Rubbing his eyes, Mortimer responds in a rather dull tone while Luna slid her parchment for him to review. "Yeah – I must be tired…"
"You should take it easy then – Rest early before it gets any worse." Theo advised him, Mortimer merely gives a nod.
"No Luna, you can't summon a 'Heliopath,'" Using his fingers in quotations. "as a means to replace incendio – Doesn't work like that."
Luna was rather disappointed.
Theo was intrigued to find someone willingly to sit next the Black heir. "Are you tutoring a first-year?"
"He is." Luna answered for him, perking up as she shoved herself in between where Mortimer was sitting. "He's done wonders. Though, I wish he wasn't so out of touch. You can't talk to him when he is."
Shaking her head, she started pinching his hand, but not too hard. "He won't tell anybody but that's ok. I'm sure what ever is bothering him, he will figure it out – Right, Mortimer?"
"Right. . ." His unconscious response left Davis and Greengrass scratching their heads. At the same time Theo couldn't help but chuckle.
"Does Draco know you've been hanging around the other houses?" His friend questions. Realizing Mortimer has never really tried the hide the fact that he was associating himself with those outside the slytherin.
"No." A simple answer, Mortimer didn't plan on explaining himself. Besides, who he chooses to spend his time with is his own business. "It's not like I'm hiding or anything… If he was really worried, he'd be here."
"True." But that wasn't the point he was trying to make. The image Black had to maintain was one he couldn't afford to tarnish. Mortimer's presence here was already seen as suspicious, befriending outside the circle could warrant future consequences. "But do you really want to lose its lustre. We've talked about maintaining reputation – Have we not? You have pick your choices carefully."
Mortimer didn't appear to be listening but instead had turned his attention towards Davis. "Number four and twelve are incorrect – You were looking for Horklump juice instead of honeywater, same cauldron, different timing."
"Oh! Thanks." Davis smiled before correcting her answer.
"Black." Demanding his attention, Theo gritted his name. His friend, not taking this seriously, needed to understand the potential harm it could do.
Rolling his eyes, Mortimer groaned. "Whaaat?"
"You need to listen –"
"I get it Nott," Waving his hand away. "I can't be seen being too friendly, nor distant. But think of it this way – The more friends I make, the better the alliances. Right?"
Theo understood the loophole his friend had found, but even then, the problem still remained. "I don't think befriending Lovegood will be beneficial – The Quibbler isn't exactly sought after – No offense Luna."
"That's quite alright." Very accepting, Luna's eyes remained on her parchment as she continues to jot down gibberish words.
"He's right, you know." Daphne's voice emerges. Mortimer staring back at her. "Despite beliefs, whether you agree or not, pretending is just a means to protect those around you. You don't have to like it, you just have to do it."
Frankly, Mortimer was getting tired of people telling him what to do. And yet, he understood where they were coming from. Regardless of what Nott believed to be right or wrong, he still made sure to appear obedient as to not draw suspicion to himself, he was a boy trying to survive the environment he was born in. The same could be said about Greengrass. Though, her family was probably more lenient about who she affiliated herself with. But not to the point where she's isolated every known family and potentially ruining any future alliances.
Why should he accommodate a bunch of snobbish wizards who deserve nothing but a good kick in the teeth? He cared not for their reputation, not for the blood that ran through someone's veins, certainly not for the benefits that one could provide for him. He didn't think there was anything the world could give him what he wanted. At least not something that was beyond the impossible.
"…I understand." It was a rather somber response, one that was quickly overlooked because it wasn't about how one felt, just out of the necessity, survival.
The children knew their place. And strange as it was, Luna seemed to understand this as well.
Closing his eyes, he suddenly feels something poking the side of his lip.
Instincts told him to open his mouth. Which he did, only to then feel the sweet bursting flavors of mint.
Opening his eyes, he turns to Luna. Smiling at him, she said. "Peppermint Toad."
Arriving in front Professor Snape's office, Mortimer had adjusted his robes, slightly, his hair too. Having recently assisted Professor Sprout with a few duties, his current appearance was less than approachable.
And knowing the Potion Master to be far less tolerable when it came to the appropriate condition, Mortimer was sure he'd blow a fuse if he came inside the classroom covered in muck.
Three knocks was all he needed until the sound of a heavy door knob opening had presented itself.
Before he knew it, Professor Snape had appeared with the same old expression, annoyed and uninterested. "You're early."
Mortimer was aware. Truthfully his thoughts had been preoccupied with clutter, more specifically the strange vicious voice in the walls, that he just wanted to get the lesson out of the way. "I thought that maybe you wanted to start early – That way we can finish early and you don't have to deal with me for a while."
There was a pause of his behalf until he replied. "Good." Turning over, he opens the door wider. "We can begin once you've blocked your emotions – Have you been meditating?"
Pressing his lips together, Mortimer was almost tempted to lie. He'd be a fool to think he could trick the potion master into believing him. "I-I've tried. . ."
His back was facing Mortimer, but he could tell the professor wasn't pleased. "Tried isn't the same as have, boy." His hand banging on his desk. "You seem to be taking this lightly. Was I wrong to presume you were serious? Wasting my time – Admittedly this was nothing but a mere gag for you to get your kicks."
"It was nothing like that!" Mortimer jumped at the defense. "It wasn't because I didn't want to – I couldn't. I-I've been having problems…" Playing with his fingers, he looked down in shame.
"Problems? What problems exactly?" Moving completely around, he faces the now anxious boy.
Mortimer took a step back. He wasn't frightened but more nervous because part of him didn't want Snape poking around his brain looking for the answer.
The deep cut-throat of a voice was starting to become somewhat of a strange obsession for him. To find the source, to find its motives, its reason for appearing at the very moment when it did.
Coming up with an excuse was harder than he thought it would. "Lockhart! He-he's been assigning the most stupidest assignments I've ever heard. He expects us to write pages upon pages on why his career has been so successful!"
It was true – Partly true, but Mortimer's solution for that was simple… Not doing it at all. Like the many children that had chosen to take the failing grade, the only people who seemed to care were the love-stricken girls.
Professor Snape stood quite for a good minute, deciding whether to believe him or not. If he didn't he certainly didn't push the issue further. Mortimer did however heard Snape muttering the word fool under his breath, probably because he believed Lockhart was capable of assigning such a task.
"Very well, let us begin then." Snape motioned Mortimer to take a seat. A stool was already set in the middle of his office. "Take a moment to clear all thoughts. Remember, it will be harder when it is Him doing this. You may not be given time, which is why it's important to maintain every bit of emotion as you can. He won't hold back."
Plopping down onto the wooded surface, Mortimer nodded. Closing his eyes he let out a deep breath, concentrating, focusing on getting rid of every single occupant that lived in his mind. Forgetting about the Malfoy's, the Blacks, the voice hidden inside the heavy sealed, gray, concrete bricks of the school.
In his head, it was just him. Mortimer, a simple boy who only wanted simple things. He didn't care about this world, he didn't care who he belonged to, he didn't care that he was related to some long dead ancient wizard who had a thing for worms. What he cared about now was living long enough to see his graduation.
"Ready." Mortimer said coolly
Staring deep into each other's dark obsidian eyes, they met without so much as a blink. Mortimer obtained calmness – While Severus entered without hesitation.
"Legilimens!"
Finishing up Sunday morning's church, at the back way of the building, families gather out. The men discuss sport at the same time women come together for irrelevant gossip. The sounds of very loud children running around the area could be heard. They seem to be having fun.
A very young Mortimer sat idly by those concrete benches, underneath a bushy tall tree that provided excellent shade.
Nana was currently talking to Father what's-his-name, while he rested a little farther away. No one could see him, not that they bothered to, casually swinging his legs back and forth. He was waiting for her to finish what ever business she had with him. Though the Father seemed more annoyed than anything as she rambled on.
A small leaf landed on his lap.
With his small hand, he grabs it and then starts twirling the leaf between his fingers.
Things haven't been good as of late. Strange occurrences have been happening more often that Mortimer was having a hard time controlling it. Maybe he was going through puberty. Were all kids experiencing this? He wonders for bit.
He'd find stuff floating around. Things disappearing and reappearing; himself included. The scariest was part he was beginning to enjoy this new found ability.
Mortimer didn't think this was normal, that everything in his life was anything but. He knew what Nana was doing was for his own good. She was trying to save him from himself, it is one the reasons why he continues to listen.
Moving things around had to be the work of the devil. For it is him that is capable of teasing, enticing men to long for such a power. For what? To fill his head with bad thoughts, evil thoughts, thoughts that constantly played, wanting, begging to be fulfilled. To spread the word of hate amongst his people.
Mortimer didn't want admit. As he sat there continuing to spin the leaf around, part of him wanted to spread the torture. He wanted everyone to feel what he feels, to see what he sees. He could find a way to do it, with this new strange ability he's found, maybe just maybe, he'd get the chance.
He finally stops rotating the leaf. If he concentrated hard enough, and pretended it was Nana herself, he could almost –
Whoosh!
The leaf immediately burns. Turning into only a small charcoaled stem.
Mortimer watches in fascination. In just a few short seconds he was able to turn a leaf into nothingness. The rapid fire speed at which it burned caused such an adrenalin for him, he found himself feeling dissatisfied with just one.
Another leaf falls, and Mortimer was quick to grab it. The same step as before, concentration. A once green pad, burning real bright in seconds.
It was highly entertaining. To watch as once by one they all curled together as it blackened into ash.
Morbid curiousity hits him.
How fun would it be to try it on something else besides something insignificant as leaf. Something bigger – Perhaps an animal… Or maybe even a human… But where would he find a willing subject…
"Oi! You there!" A young male voice appears.
Lifting his head sees four boys approaching him. They were older, no more than three years apart, from his guess. They were dressed in high-tailored vests and sweatshirts. Their pants were print to perfection as no wrinkles could be spotted, and their hairs were nicely groomed, gelled back so that you could see every expression on their round faces.
"Aren't you that kid that lives with the old batty – With that bothy hovel of yours?" The boy and his pals share a laugh.
Mortimer doesn't respond but only turns his eye to the leaf resting on his lap.
"Hey! I'm talking to you. Don't you know it's rude to ignore others?" He yells, pointing a finger at the disinterested boy.
Nothing he said was worth listening, Mortimer's never met these children, in fact, he's never really met anyone before. He was homeschooled, barely went out except on days like these, or when a purchasing supplies were a must, other than that, his company consisted that of his Nana.
Too lost in his thought he didn't realize how close they were until he was pushed onto the grass.
"For someone so quite, you're really loud at night." The kid now seemed annoyed. "Keeping me up with your yelling. "Please Nana don't!"" He mocked, while fluttering his eyelids. ""Oh no, not the attic! – PFFT – Please, how long before you wake up the whole neighborhood with all that ruckus – Huh?"
His friends seemed to agree as they all nod their heads. But Mortimer was more embarrassed that they could hear everything.
The walls of the home were never strong to begin with. Anyone could have literally heard them just from walking by. Nana's voice didn't help either, she was loud, very loud, which only helped boost the chaotic volume around the peaceful neighborhood.
"Go away." Mortimer mumbled, forgetting he was down on the lawn.
The unknown boys seemed to find his words humorous, near laughable. How dare this little freak tell them what to do. "Or what? You and the old batty going to start preaching us – Tell us how we're all going to hell. You don't scare me kid."
Clenching his small fists tight, Mortimer refused to show an ounce of emotion. Showing them would only encourage them further, it was a reaction they wanted, but he won't give it to them.
"I could kill you, if I wanted to…" The flat tone at which he spoke, conveyed the seriousness of intentions.
The antagonistic children however took this lightly. The boy was small, weak.
The numbers were not in Mortimer's favor, four against one – He had no chance. They all begin to burst out in laughter, not quite believing him, they ignore the dark eyes that were staring them with absolute hatred.
"I'd like to see you try – Berk, you and your grandmother are nothing but nutty freaks! If anyone's going to rot, it's you."
Mortimer smiled at that. Perhaps there was some truth to those words. With what he was planning to do, there was no doubt that there would be repercussions. Even so, while he resided on this earth, he might as well have a little bit of fun. It's not everyday he'd find an opportunity to use this new found magic.
The boy's brushed off threat, made them second guess themselves. For in a matter of seconds, there was a sudden crack like sound, followed by a scream.
All the sinners were doomed to burn in hell. His own grandmother had told him that, and it was his very own grandmother that succumbed to that belief, only for it to be true. Mortimer believed he'd burn too.
What would she do if she were to ever find out? The answer was obvious.
She'd kill him.
And that wasn't a metaphor or some sort of euphemism. She'd do it on the spot – in front of a crowd even. There was never a shortage of ruthlessness when it came to dear ol' Nana. So when he says she'll kill… You know he means it.
Mortimer's eyes had reached his target, the unknown boy who he had just met, deeply staring, breathing heavily. Not worrying about the witnesses seeing what he had done.
Good fortune kept him mad dash from the eyes of every known terror that crept across their faces.
The boy yelled in panic, the end of his pants had been lit on fire. Spreading over his ankle he lifts his right leg up, frantically waving it up and down. The fire does not cease but merely wages on, erasing the cotton fabric that was worn.
One of his so-called friends ran, alarmed, they feared getting in trouble. The other two tried to out of fire, little success, one of the advises. "Your pants! Your pants! Take them off!"
Mortimer giggled at the spot. Seeing the now pants less boy, exposing half of his body, parents took notice and begin to make their way over to the commotion.
Before the adults could get any closer, Mortimer picks himself up from the grass and paces near them.
They were scared.
The main boy, the one in his underwear, was shaking as he was now the one to sit against the green meadow. Shaking and frightened by a mere boy, who not long ago was the one cowering. His two pals, taking a few steps back, became frozen.
The poor victim stares up. However, the sunlight's gaze causes partial blindness, a dark shadowy shade covers Mortimer's expression, leaving everyone guessing.
A soft whisper. "I could kill you. If I wanted…" Stating what he had previously said.
Parents were getting closer. Nana was behind the crowd, and Mortimer knew if were to be spotted, he'd be blamed.
And just like the fire, he blazed right out of the scene.
Eyelids shuttered to the memory and Mortimer looks away. The dim candlelight's, covering his facial features.
Professor Snape didn't offer anything but a question. "You purposely let me in, why?"
Mortimer sat on the stool, halting a response, unsure how to explain. "I'm not sure… Maybe you would underatand - Or, maybe I wanted someone to believe me."
"Believe? Believe what?"
He shrugs.
Towering upright, Severus only turns away. "You may leave."
"How was I?"
A small break, he faces the boy. One word was all that was said. "Better."
He'd jump for joy if it were possible. But Snape couldn't see him, not unless he wanted to get himself kicked out of the classroom. "Right. Well thank you for the lessons. Have a goodnight Professor Snape."
Of course, he was only met with silence but it was enough for him to know that his gratefulness hadn't been in vain.
Walking out of his office, he quietly closes the doors before making his way back towards the dungeon's halls that would soon lead him to the slytherin common room.
It was October, more specifically, hallows eve, day of the dead, death day. However you want to call it, a day solely dedicated to those who have crossed into the afterlife.
A day like no other, Mortimer was walking alongside Draco, on the second floor.
It was strange, different somehow. While mortimer was anything but normal, he's been acting weird. More weird than usual. It could only mean that something was amiss. But Draco couldn't very well ask him, not right now at least.
See, things have been a little tense between the two these pass couple of weeks. Divided, there were certain beliefs among the two children that a common ground was not at all possible at the moment.
Draco's pureblood beliefs still reigned over everything else – In contrast to Mortimer, who couldn't care any less. This for the most part was something his cousin couldn't deal with. Watching as Black tarnish the name he was given by befriending blood traitors and talking to the likes of dirty muggleborns. Rebelling among his own kind and for what? Just so they wouldn't think ill of him? To show that he wasn't like aunt Bella? Father praised her for her actions – What she did was for the future of witches and wizards. But Mortimer treated it differently, saw it in a different perspective. He saw it as something that shouldn't be celebrated but better ignored, forgotten.
It made absolutely no sense. Mortimer should be proud to have a mother like her, someone dedicated to improving wizardry kind.
"Have you done Professor Binns assignment?" Draco hears Mortimer ask.
Mortimer's back was turned to him so that Draco couldn't see his expression. "No, have you?"
"I have." Walking ahead, he responds. Of course he's done his homework… Mortimer's lack of a social life gave him plenty to do.
Draco couldn't help but scowl. "We have all week to do it."
But again Mortimer remained neutral. "Better to get it out the way."
"Right, it certainly has nothing to do with the way you've been acting."
There was no reply.
A continuation of pace, Mortimer kept his head forward, no acknowledgement of any kind.
Head in clouds, Mortimer suddenly stops in the middle of the hall. "Did you hear that?" Mortimer asks.
"Hear what?" Draco was unsure what he meant.
Black's muscles tense up, his eyes wondering around. A long pause when Mortimer says. "That."
Draco sticks his ear out, tying to hear what Mortimer was referring to but all that was captured had been nothing but white noise. "I don't hear anything."
And just like that, Mortimer starts bolts.
"Mortimer wait!" Draco calls out as he watches his cousin
He either didn't hear him or simply didn't care when Mortimer's legs begin to move at a rapid speed, separating himself from draco.
Rip. Tear. Kill.
Words cycling his head, it's terrorizing, full-blooded voice was back. It was back and Mortimer wasn't crazy.
He couldn't lose the trail that has opened. He had to chase it before it closes on itself, leaving him blind once more.
Mortimer's doesn't notice he was running, he hears his name being called but that didn't matter. The hauntingly eerie voice was the only thing that was the upmost importance.
". . . so hungry . . . for so long . . ."
What? Hungry? It was hungry. Why? For what? The questions kept rolling and banging against his skull. Yet, his determination to follow never weighed down. The more it spoke the more Mortimer felt the need to run. He could hear it circling throughout its walls. Up, down, left and right, it made him feel slightly dizzy. Tobey was right, it had to be inside the walls.
"Kill… time to kill…"
His eyes widened. It was there that noises started to descend into obscurity.
No!
"Wait!" Mortimer shouted in the empty quiet corridor. No no no, it couldn't leave. Not now, not when he was so close to finding out. He had questions and the voice was the answer.
Clenching his fist he ran. Shaking his head to himself, he ran throughout the second-floor, drawing near a corner.
" – blood. . . I smell blood!"
Chasing the violent sounds, his heart was beating rapidly, toppling and fumbling throughout the chase. Sprinting in such a flurry that he almost tripped over himself. He left Draco behind in order to relax his nerves, with little success, he couldn't lose track of it not until he reached the ridge of the empty corridor.
Stopping dead in his tracks, Mortimer treaded softly. Wincing, shrinking away as he came closer to a wall that was graffiti on.
A chill running down his spine. The brightly burning candle lights lambent against words he didn't understand.
The chamber of secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.
How long was he standing there, he didn't know. His eyes could not pry away when he was unprepared for the horror of what he was encountering.
"Mrs. Norris…?" He whispers to himself and before he could even take another step, he notices a pool of water. A liquid bridle path leading to the cat who was strung up from the torch bracket.
"Black? What are you doing here?"
Peering to his right he finds Potter and his two friends with the same horrified expression. Confused as Mortimer was, they were questioning his sudden appearance.
He offers no response but only silence.
The loud rumbling footsteps of other students and professors coming closer brought the four children to a sudden halt. As if they have been caught, their nervousness was obvious as they stood in the middle of the defiled wall.
It suddenly became quiet.
That is until –
"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"
Abruptly turning his head, he faces his cousin, who had pushed himself in front of the gathered crowd. Grinning like an idiot, it broke Mortimer to see him glow at the sight of Mrs. Norris. A threat and warning for those around, the school found themselves in a panic.
Potter was staring at him, deep in thought.
It wasn't a good sign.
The last thing Mortimer wanted was the attention from the boy-who-lived. If he was as nosy as Draco has describe him to be, then Mortimer knew he had to be extra careful. For if anyone were to find out, he wouldn't make pass the week.
I need to get out of here.
Catiously walking backwards, he uses the mob of children to disappear just before he starts running back to his dorm.