CHAPTER 20
01 November 1991 - Professor Evans' Suite - 7:20AM
Wishing for the bravado of the previous night when he'd confronted Draco, Harry barely resisted the urge to fidget, choosing to idly nibble on his croissant while dutifully avoiding eye contact with his mother. He was sitting on a rather plush sofa as she sat on a matching divan across him, sipping a very strong cup of coffee. They were in his mother's private suite of rooms next to the Muggle Studies classroom, which Lily had decorated into a comfortable facsimile of her suite in the Evans Keep. Harry had been en route to breakfast in the Great Hall, before he was stopped by Slytherin Prefect Penelope Padgett, who informed him that 'Professor Evans requested his immediate presence in her quarters.' Dejected, Harry had trudged his way to her office, bracing himself for her inevitable disappointment in his actions.
Lily cleared her throat and set her coffee down, prompting Harry to do the same with his croissant.
"Well Harry, can you explain to me exactly what happened last night?" asked Lily, her tone neutral and expression inscrutable. Sighing, Harry quietly launched into a rundown of the previous nights' events. How his worry for his friend had driven him and Hermione to seek him out, scared of what may happen to him. He described how they'd tackled the troll; first with the fireworks spell, and then with the Levitation Charm when Neville stuck his wand up the creature's nose. He went on to describe their brief bonding moment, before Professors Snape, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Quirrell (miraculously recovered) had found them, imploring the three young wizards to explain how and why they'd been in the situation to confront and maim a troll. He stressed that he and his friends had been awarded fifteen points for their actions, though Lily's expression remained unmoved. Sighing, he revealed Neville's realization of his multiple attempted murders by his own grand-uncle, along his post-lavatory conversation with Snape, emphasizing their plan of action to deal with Professor Quirrell's increasing weirdness. Finishing his long-winded explanation, Harry kept his eyes down, not wanting to be confronted with his mother's disappointment. He hated disappointing her.
Sighing, Lily patted the space next to her. "Come here Harry." Harry stood and moved next to Lily, finally relaxing when she wrapped a firm arm around him in a hug.
"Look at me dear." He slowly looked up, pleased to see that instead of the expected disappointment, her eyes glowed with gentle warmth. He hugged her back, basking in her affection.
"Oh my dear boy. I'm not disappointed in you, so you needn't worry about that. While I can say that I was terrified for your safety, angry that you'd deliberately disobeyed me, and quite shocked that you and your friends were able to overcome a full-grown mountain troll, I do understand your protectiveness over your friends. That is an admirable trait, and if cultivated with the necessary amount of caution, can serve you very well. Just promise not to give me any more heart attacks chasing after dangerous magical beasts, ok?" Harry nodded furiously while hugging her back, pleased to hear her amused laughter. After a few moments they leaned back from each other, with Lily picking up her coffee and Harry finishing his croissant with gusto.
"Well, now that's over with, I will advise you to be on your guard when it comes to Professor Quirrell." Harry immediately straightened, nodding with complete seriousness. "His murderous glances are dangerously concerning enough, but his rather overt performance last night goes beyond concern. He allowed a dangerous creature into the castle, all as a distraction to get access to… whatever the hell Dumbledore is hiding." Her eyes flashed, her expression becoming grim. "I know you and Severus have discussed keeping up your Occlumency meditation, and I fully agree. These events are not coincidences, and I don't think we can wait around much longer for him to reveal his hand."
"Yeah, I figured we couldn't. What is Dumbledore hiding underneath that trapdoor? I assume Uncle Severus knows, but he's not told me." Lily's expression grew more grim before she responded.
"I have no idea. Apparently, all the other Professors on staff - save a select few - were all involved in creating the protections for whatever the Headmaster is hiding down there. All are bound by oaths, so I'm afraid that you and I will be in the dark for a while longer." She sighed, taking a sip of her coffee.
"But why wouldn't the Headmaster let all the staff members know? I mean, it's obvious Quirrell is compromised in some way, but wouldn't it make sense to ensure everyone else knows, in order to stop him?"
"Not necessarily dear. Think about it; one professor has already proven himself to be compromised, desperate enough to lure a dangerous creature into a school full of children all in attempts to steal whatever the Headmaster is hiding. Who's to say that other Professors aren't involved? By keeping some professors in the dark - especially those who were not involved in the object's safekeeping - it makes it easier to suss out whom the culprit is, and why they're so intent on stealing the object in question." Lily took another sip of her coffee while Harry thoughtfully considered her statement, chewing on another croissant.
"Makes sense." Harry chewed thoughtfully, before asking. "So, what do you think the object in question is?"
"No clue, though I wish I did. It would make dealing with this whole Quirrell situation much easier if we knew exactly what he was after. We can only hope we find out soon enough; if Quirrell let loose a troll, I shudder to think what he'll unleash upon us once he truly gets desperate." She visibly shuddered in an exaggerated manner, causing Harry to giggle.
"Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that." Both laughing in unison, the two began discussing other more mundane topics, for Slytherins anyway.
Neville's Bedroom - Longbottom Manor - 10:00AM
Neville sat quietly in his bed at home, feeling a rather curious combination of exhaustion and overwhelming relief at the past night's events. He was inordinately pleased to have Harry and Hermione (confirmed) as his best friends, and he was forever grateful that they'd cared enough to come save him from being eaten by a wayward troll. His epic exposure of his Uncle Algie's murder attempts in front of Gran, the Headmaster, his Head of House, and Cheif Auror Scrimgeour and Senior Auror Bones had left him drained, though he'd been treated to the rare sight of Scrimgeour and Auror Bones having to physically restrain his enraged Gran from storming Algie's home and tearing the man apart with her bare hands.
Sighing, he stretched languidly, thinking about all of the Obliviated memories of his accidental magic that Uncle Algie had robbed him off in his quest to drive Neville to suicide, just so his son Reginald could take on the Longbottom Lordship.
When Neville was only two, Uncle Algie had pettily Vanished his teddy bear "Ebby" that he'd summoned across miles through accidental magic. Algie had then cruelly obliviated him, then plagued toddler-Neville with feelings of unfulfilled longing for something he once loved and lost forever, blaming himself for wishing for it too hard.
When Neville was three, and he'd only wanted Uncle Algie to read him a Babbity Rabbity book. Little Neville eagerly climbing the living room bookcase to retrieve his favorite book, only for Algie to magically cause the bookshelf to fall, attempting to crush the boy alive. Neville's juvenile magic stopping the bookcase in its track, and Uncle Algie Obliviating him of the memory and making him cry with a Stinging Hex, mocking his lack of accidental magic when Gran had come to investigate all 'the noise'.
When Neville was four, and Uncle Algie lured him into Greenhouse 4 with Venomous Tentacula and Devil's Snare, hoping the dangerous plants would rip Neville into pieces. Only to be furious at discovering that the plants were playing with little Neville, and had even tried to protect him when Algie had lashed out in his rage.
When Neville was seven, and Uncle Algie had used magic to try and drown him in the Blackpool Promenade, feigning that he'd merely been trying to encourage Neville to use accidental magic when Augusta had confronted him about his actions. Uncle Algie, as usual, obliviating him of his memories of his murder attempt, and gaslighting both him and his Gran about the situation.
When Neville was eight, and Uncle Algie had pushed him from the fourth floor window of the Manor, obliviating Neville before the act, when the boy had almost exposed him for his horrific crimes. Neville's magic saving him (like it always did before), causing him to bounce instead of ending up as a splat on the ground. Uncle Algie using that murder attempt as an excuse to force Neville to demonstrate accidental magic, an appalling act which was considered perfectly legal.
When Neville was eleven and he'd finally chosen his own wand - thirteen inches cherry with a unicorn hair core, just like his father's ironically enough - and Algie pocketing the wand and Obliviating him of the memory, making him believe he had to use his father's wand because none at Ollivander's had chosen him. Reaffirming the growing feelings of hopelessness in his seemingly pitiful lack of magical ability, and the worthlessness he felt knowing that he would never live up to his father's great legacy.
Sighing, Neville pushed all of those memories aside. Uncle Algie was being apprehended by law enforcement in his home. Neville had begged his Gran not to send the man to Azkaban, citing that he didn't want Cousins Reginald and Enid to suffer the disgrace of their father's shameful criminal actions. She'd begrudgingly accepted, though she'd insisted on her own particular brand of justice as part of his punishment. Neville had agreed, eager to wipe his hands of the situation. He was fully magical, and he was a very capable wizard, with his own wand that had chosen him. Neville Longbottom was worthy to carry the magic and the legacy of the Longbottom family, and it was more than time for him to start acting like it.
Summerisles - 12:37PM
James Potter paused to take another hearty sip of his wine (a vintage Syrah) before heartily digging into his excellently cooked veal cutlet. Seated across from him also enjoying his meal was Corban Yaxley, who surprisingly, had made for very good company for the past few weeks, lending a surprisingly kind and listening ear whilst James had gone through a rather depressing episode. James had slowly realized that he may have misjudged Corban from the onset; he'd initially believed the man to be a slimy Death Eater, but the kindness and understanding he'd shown James were definitely not the actions of a murderous serial killer. Plus, James was still on the outs with most of his so-called 'friends' in the Auror Department, all thanks to Sirius revealing his threats against Lily and Harry. That it was his fault for sending the hateful Howler to begin with was a fact that was seemingly lost on the man.
For his part, Corban quietly ate his seared whitefish, quietly observing James as he ate his meal. Lord Potter was surprisingly easy to read, wearing the full range of his emotions on his sleeve. His many interactions with the man had revealed several things that he'd gladly spilled to Cousin Cassilda. Getting James to open up was all too easy; prod the man with a good drink and just mention any of his trigger words (Lily, Harry, Slytherin, Severus, and Tom, just to name a few) would send the man off on a tangent that revealed so much more.
Firstly, he had very much been in love with Lily Evans (almost obsessively so), and their divorce had almost broken him. Corban had initially assumed (like many of his like-minded peers) that the mudblood had ensnared him with Amortentia or some other more nefarious magical means. But, that was not the case. James had been head over heels with Lily and been genuinely happy courting and eventually marrying her, in awe of her abilities and utterly grateful that she'd chosen to be with him. He was also easily jealous of other men when they had Lily's attention (most notably Lords Prince and Gaunt), born from a deep insecurity that he was just not good enough to be Lily's husband, and she'd one day wizen up to the fact and leave. While she had left him, the one she'd left him for had been James' own son that he'd been quick to cast aside. That Lord Potter was unable to reconcile that fact still persisted, especially since he'd passed that mentality on to his Heir. That James was still very much in love with Lily and could not have her made his bitterness all the more rageful, a fact Corban secretly delighted in.
Secondly, James was truly furious that his second son Harry had been sorted into Slytherin. He hated the house with a burning obstinate passion, a fact which Corban found decidedly strange since the man's ex-wife and his own mother had been Sorted into Slytherin House. If anything, Corban thought that made the younger Potter infinitely more worthy of positive attention (in spite of his unfortunate Halfblood status) than the useless Gryffindor twat of an Heir, especially since the Younger Potter had cleverly outmaneuvered James in keeping the man from interfering with his education and his mudblood mother's affairs. However, that was a thought Lord Yaxley made sure to keep to himself. Cousin Cassius and Cousin Miranda dutifully kept the Family abreast of the younger Potter's progress in the House, both noting the boy's academic prowess in spite of his unfortunate associations with a Mudblood Gryffindor, a Squib Pureblood, and all manner of other riff-raff that loitered the Hogwarts halls.
Thirdly, James deeply missed his brother-in-all-but-blood Sirius Black. Their fallout had further driven James into a depression, with Sirius choosing to prioritize his godson over his (former) best friend. Sirius' very bold confrontation of James in the Auror Office had both humiliated and angered Lord Potter, and it was only a matter of time before the two had a truly explosive interaction. That Corban was eagerly looking forward to (discreetly) instigating such a confrontation went without saying. Seeing Lord Black further humiliate and isolate James would make securing the latter's loyalty all the more easier.
"Have you given some thoughts to my earlier suggestion James?" Corban asked, pausing to take a sip of his Chardonnay.
"Yeah I have Corban." James paused his vigorous chewing to take another hearty sip of his Syrah. "It sounds like a splendid idea, and you're right, I do deserve a break. Things have been… hectic for the past couple of weeks, and I definitely need to unwind before I lose it." Corban nodded sagely before responding.
"That's excellent to hear my friend! Trust me, a weekend boys trip in Paris is exactly what you need! The Crazy Unicorn Cabaret is having its opening weekend during the third week of November, and I will be able to get us VIP accommodations. Antonius is a big fan, and of course Tiberius is as well! Francis, Greg, and Lucius will be in attendance as well, so this will be a rather memorable boys trip. You're still young James, and you're single! You of all people deserve to have a bit of good adult fun." James laughed at Corban's exuberance, and together, the two men began discussing the itinerary for the pending trip.
From his vantage point on the second story seating, Tom Riddle quietly observed the interaction between James and Corban while enjoying his lunch date with Libra. Thanks to his trifurcated thoughtstreams, he was able to dedicate one to fully paying attention to Libra and responding when appropriate, dedicate another to reading Corban's and James' lips, and the remaining to ardently recording everything he was able to glean from the two Lords' conversation. Tom was also employing his unique Legilimens ability to glean the men's thoughts, and the sheer glee he felt from Lord Yaxley could only spell trouble. Corban and James had become unlikely friends in the past weeks, and Tom was certain that Cassilda Selwyn was the driving force behind their newfound chumminess. To what end, he could only guess, and none of the feasible possibilities boded well, especially for Lily. Tom made a mental note to ensure his contact at the Crazy Unicorn Cabaret would keep close to Lord Potter and inform him of everything that would happen on this upcoming 'Boy's Trip'.
Professor Quirrell's Quarters - 11:01PM
Quirinus Quirrell laid quietly in his bed, his form almost preternaturally still. He was 'dreaming' again, though what he encountered in his mind would hardly be considered dreams…
Quirinus stood in front of a pure white psychic door, and almost on automatic, he opened and entered. He was greeted by a stark white circular room, and seated in the middle was a man seated on a throne-like chair, his right leg elegantly crossed over his left. The man was tall and hulking, with a broad chest, sharp shoulders, and powerful looking legs that looked like they could crush a lesser man. He had a full head of dirty blonde hair slicked to the side in a dashing style, coupled with a neatly trimmed goatee. He was outfitted in a rather dapper three-piece checkered-navy suit, topped with a pair of deep green suede shoes. Watery blue eyes gleamed with a rat-like intensity, and he smiled with a mouth full of too-sharp teeth.
Quirrell slowly approached and dropped to his knees when he was about a foot away from the throne, calmly speaking "My Lord", with his head bowed down.
"Look at me." the man rasped and Quirrell glanced up to find that the man was suddenly mere inches from his face, his watery eyes practically burning in their intensity.
"You failed me soldier…you had the opportunity… to take what I need… and you FAILED!" His reedy voice ended on a yell, and Quirrell flinched, dropping his head in shame at failing his Master.
"Master, please, p-please forgive your soldier. I was close, so close, but alas, my plans were thwarted by-"
"SAVE YOUR EXCUSES!" The man thundered, and Quirrell immediately quieted, keeping his head bowed as to not further anger his Master.
"Look…at…me." Slowly, Quirrell raised his head to gaze into his Master's watery blue eyes, the pupils unnaturally large and even more rat-like as he stared unblinkingly into Quirinus' deadened eyes.
"I am… a forgiving Master… Rex Norvegicus… always gives… a second chance…to…those who… are… worthy! But… I will… need… further… assurances… of your… success…" He slowly raised his hand, extending an uncommonly long finger topped with a blackened fingernail, sharpened into a claw. In less than a blink, Quirrell felt the finger pressed against the center of his head, and felt…another psychic string form, further entwining him with his master. Deeper within him, Quirinus felt something… vital slowly drain a little from himself into his master. The room's walls gained some color, and he felt more than saw his Master sigh in satisfaction.
"Better… much better! I… said earlier… that this form… is…not stable …hence…why I need…you…to…succeed! You have… given me… strength… to… keep… on… Thank you Soldier."
"Of course Master! My life and will are yours to use in whatever way you desire."
"Naturally… I will be…here…watching you… and when…the… time… is right… I will take…the reins. Now… GO!"
And with a violent start Quirrell awoke, and he stared unblinkingly at the ceiling. He could feel his connection to his Master, even stronger than before. That gave him strength, the will to persevere and ensure that his Master's goal would be accomplished. The Potter Twins would perish, and his Master would live on. A resounding "Chi-chi-chi-chi" echoed in his mind, as Quirinus closed his eyes once more.
AN 1: See, Harry had nothing to worry about! As you can see, Harry values his mother's opinion greatly, and he really does loathe disappointing her. Thankfully, she was understanding (this time)
AN 2: James is becoming further entwined in Corban's web. Too bad he doesn't realize it...
AN 3: Another look at Peter & Quirrell interactions, Dark Lord Peter isn't half bad, though he's not even at full fighting form (*shudders*)
Next up: Quidditch, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin!