Year 1 Part 5
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I walked from my dorm, a letter in my hand. At my side, as much as I wished he wasn’t, was Amycus. He also had a letter in his hands, and while he’d not told me the content of his, given the identical stylised font on the envelope it came in and the wax seal securing the letter inside were the same as those that had been on my envelope, I had little doubt his letter said the same.
There was no hint as to the sender of the letter, just that after stating my full name, I was instructed to be outside the Slytherin chambers at seven o’clock that evening. At first, I had suspected the letter was some form of trap or deception, but with a few hours to ponder the matter, I had come to realise that this was no trap. It was an invitation to some secretive club; one that based on Amycus’ presence as well, I already had my suspicions about.
“Ah, there you are,” a familiar voice called out as we exited the Slytherin chambers. Turning I saw Finn Dalcassin approaching us. with him were Rodolphus Lestrange, Asmodeus Wessex, and Lucius Malfoy.
“What is this,” Amycus began, holding the letter up and waving it, “about?” There was a hint of annoyance in his tone, but also some respect. He understood that while he was Heir to the Most Ancient house of Carrow, the others were all heirs as well, and each of them could, with I suspected little effort, take him out. I knew my chances against them weren’t much greater, but I knew already that I was more capable with my magic than Amycus was.
He was solid in class but lacked refinement and grace: preferring brute force and strength with his magic over control. That fitted well with his general demeanour, but I wondered if perhaps it was also a reflection of his magical potential. Perhaps he was one with great depth to his potential, granting power and the ability to cast the greatest of spells, but lacked the size to do so for long or control what he cast.
A small grunt of irritation slipped from Lucius. “I would expect someone of your standing,” Lucius’s gaze swept over Amycus, “as potentially unworthy of it as you are, to have the ability to grasp the painfully obvious.” The comment drew a smirk from Asmodeus Wessex, though the older Slytherin made no additional remark.
“You, Heir Malfoy, and those with you are here because of your position in the inheritance of your Clans and Houses,” I said, stepping into the moment to show my superiority once again over Amycus. It was but the middle of September, but already it was becoming clear to him and the rest of our year – if not throughout Slytherin – that Amycus was simply not on my level in any sense of the word. “Though I am the exception to that obvious correlation.”
Finn and Asmodeus shared a look, while I caught Rodolphus giving me a small, almost inconceivable snarl. “Indeed, you are not the Heir to Clan MacLeod,” Asmodeus replied, “however our… group felt that extending an invitation to you was wise as it serves the founding principles of our group to have you as a member. I will warn you that the vote to invite you was not unanimous.” I accepted that with a slight inclination of my head, and chose to ignore the amused grunt that came from Amycus.
“Is this all there is in this group you speak of?” Amycus asked, stepping in such a way that he was partially blocking the others from seeing me. I rolled my eyes at the action, having grown tired of it in just a few weeks. However, I made no move to counter it, finding it unnecessary to do so to prove my supremacy over him.
The tone Amycus took was far less confrontational now, a hint that under the bluntness there was intelligence, though I was certain it wasn’t one worthy of a true Slytherin: perhaps belonging with the directness of the Lions instead.
That intelligence, or what there was of it, had become apparent in our classes to be lacking in comparison to most of our house, never mind against me of the others marked out as above the others. Our first round of tests and challenges in class had taken place, and tables were produced for the first standings in our core classes.
Amycus was decidedly below average; both within Slytherin and in the overall year. While I led the table for Transfiguration, in the overall tables I sat fourth. Ahead of me were Vesta Malfoy – a situation she had enjoyed holding over me on the day the tables were produced – and two Ravenclaws. The rest of the top ten included Lasadh Astra, a single Gryffindor with the others all coming, unsurprisingly in many ways, from the Eagles.
The most interesting thing, at least about Amycus and the tables, was that Bradley Cooper, the muggleborn I had taken under my wing since first meeting him in Diagon Alley at the beginning of the year, had placed sixty-first. Beyond being the highest-ranked muggleborn at the start of our time at Hogwarts, he was far above Amycus. Sadly, the same could not be said of Andrew MacLeod.
The muggleborn who bore my clan name – something I was still considering how to proceed with, even after the rather unimpressive first meeting with his older brother – sat in the bottom third of the tables, alongside most of the muggleborns and those not raised in the magical world.
“It would behove you, Heir Carrow, to remember that while your house is Most Ancient, others here stand to inherit Lordships and Chieftainships that are equal to yours in rank, but above it in stature,” Finn responded to Amycus, a rapid cooling of the air coming as the Sixth Year letting some of his magical might – and potentially a hint of the magic his clan were known for – out to reinforce his words.
Amycus lowered his head a fraction, showing understanding of Finn’s gentle warning – though I couldn’t say what Amycus’ expression was – and I felt Finn pull back on his magic, allowing the air to return to its normal state. “Good. Now come along, the others are no doubt waiting for us.”
As he and the others turned and started walking away from the Slytherin chambers, my brow rose. I knew the names of the various heirs within Hogwarts, though outside of my cousins Markus – who was Heir to my position as Chief MacLeod – Ciaran O’Callaghan, and Nairn Montague, I had enjoyed little communication with any of them. The same was true of Callum MacGregor and Iona MacKenzie.
Like me they were both Chiefs of their Clans, however they had been heirs before then. Since I was being permitted to attend this group, I assumed they would be there too and while Iona was, from my few interactions with her, a pleasant person to be around, Callum was a fucking arse.
Our walk-through halls of Hogwarts took some time, and I noted several students looking our way as we walked. A group of Slytherins moving together was not unusual – indeed, the house Professors had gently encouraged it to show outward solidarity of our house to others – but that we ranged from First to Sixth Year would be unusual. Still, there were times when some of the students, particularly some Sixth and Fifth Year Gryffindors, watched us with more than just a passing interest.
As we reached the main floor of the castle, I caught Rodolphus glaring at me from the corner of his eye again. If not for already having spoken to Bellatrix I’d have feared he held some grudge against me, or at least one that might have me concerned to be in his presence. The eldest of the trio of Black daughters – the fact they were referred to as that when there were other girls in the Black family continued to amuse me – had spoken to me just before her betrothed, a term she used with utter contempt, and the others older students had arrived back at Hogwarts about the matter.
Rodolphus was jealous of anyone being near anything he believed was his, and that extended to Bellatrix. She intended to fight her way free of the betrothal before she was expected to marry him, but until then she had to deal with issues. As Bellatrix had already stated to Rodolphus that she would be tutoring me, a situation brought on by Arcturus offering her help to me and my acceptance of the offer, I would be spending more time around her than he would, which seemed to only inflame his anger toward me.
Bellatrix might feel that there was nothing to be concerned about, but I did not share that opinion. Rodolphus was older, more experienced, and had unlocked more of his potential – however great that might be – than I had. If he was anything like he was in the other timeline, a bastard who enjoyed inflicting pain on others, I would find myself having to be wary of the danger he posed.
Having to spend the next two years at Hogwarts watching my back in the event he might let his jealousy cause him to do something toward me was going to be a pain. However, I knew I would have to bear it. He and his brother, who I expected would support him, would not be the only threats against me at Hogwarts, I had just hoped to avoid having to be concerned about a far older and more skilled wizard targeting me at least until I reached Third Year.
As we climbed the first flight of stairs of the Defence Against the Dark Arts tower, I noted that Rodolphus was talking quietly with Amycus, though it stopped when another student appeared, blocking the path our group was on. “What’s going on here?” A Sixth-Year Hufflepuff wearing a prefect’s badge asked hints of annoyance and dislike in her voice.
“A private matter, Smith,” Finn responded sharply, making clear the animosity was on both sides. “Nothing to get your knickers into a twist over.” Someone in our group coughed, covering their amusement, though that only served to cause Smith’s eyes to narrow further.
Smith’s hand twitched, and for a moment I wondered if perhaps whatever issues lay between the two would boil over here and now. The Hufflepuff stopped his twitching hand as Asmodeus stepped beside Finn. A grunt came from his lips, and he begrudgingly moved aside. “Fine, have fun with your stupid thin-blood clubs,” He muttered.
We moved forward, though I noted Smith’s eyes watching us as if committing our faces to memory. Already I was making certain to avoid running into Smith again during the evenings. It was clear that his opinions on the way our world worked would never be ones I could convert.
“Stupid mudblood.” My head snapped to Amycus as he grumbled out the curse, and for a moment, as we were still in earshot of Smith, I feared what might happen. I stayed still, cautious of what might happen, but beyond a grunt of anger, the Hufflepuff did nothing, which I assumed was because Finn would counter any points Smith deducted from Amycus over the insult.
We resumed our climb, soon finding ourselves on the fifth floor of the tower. I stayed at the rear of the group, cautious of where we were heading. This floor was one that, while I had explored it during the first week at Hogwarts, had held little interest. All that was up here, at least from what I saw earlier in the month, were empty classrooms that seemed unused in some time and storage areas that were locked, preventing my access to whatever they contained.
“Dalcassin, Wessex,” a voice called out from the darkness ahead of us, “I was beginning to fear you and your snakes had become lost on your way here.” The speaker took a step toward us, emerging from what should be an empty classroom. His robes were that of a Seventh-Year Hufflepuff, one that I’d seen during our arrival at Hogwarts. The prefect’s badge confirmed that, though as I came closer, I recognized his face. This was Barnard Engelby, Heir to the Established House of Engelby.
Asmodeus chuckled. “We were simply delayed by one of your badgers who has an exaggerated belief in his importance due to his current status, Engelby.”
Barnard snorted. “Smith?” Finn responded with a nod and the Hufflepuff pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll talk with him later, but we all know he will not shift from his position on the nature and culture of our world.” He shook his head for a moment. “Another sad case of a muggleborn believing themselves grand simply because they can wield the mysteries of our world.”
“And here I thought that all your badgers got along,” Finn remarked, though without any venom.
Barnard chuckled. “We do. Just like all you snakes are nice and peaceful behind the closed doors in that den of yours.” Again, there was no anger in the tone, just friendly banter. “Come on,” he said as he turned and walked back to the door he had emerged from. “The others are inside waiting.”
As we stepped inside, I saw as I had expected the other heirs, and in the case of Iona MacKenzie and Callum MacGregor, chiefess and chief gathered around a circular table that was bare and had enough chairs for all of us to sit at. I offered my fellow clan leaders a nod of recognition and while Iona returned it, Callum didn’t, instead sneering at my presence.
Ignoring his reaction, I turned to my cousins, Magnus MacLeod, and Nairn Montague, offering them nods as well. While Nairn seemed pleased with my presence, Magnus’ lips tightened hinting at some issue regarding us, one I suspected had to do with my presence in this group, and what it might mean for his membership.
Barnard clapped his hands as he moved around the table. “Now, let’s begin,” He said as he reached the far side of the table. “Amycus Carrow, Dòmhnall MacLeod, on behalf of the others, it is my privilege to welcome you to the Circulus Heredum,” I grinned as I quickly translated the name to mean Circle of Heirs; a rather apt title given the membership. “In this group, you will leave the trappings of your Hogwarts house at the door, along with issues relating to family disputes and grievances. We are here to get acquainted with each other, in the hopes of fostering bonds that will carry our Houses and Clans forward into the future as we move to lead them.”
As he spoke the others moved around the table. I noted that Callum was to his right with Finn and Asmodeus to his left. The rest, based on the markings of their robes, filtered their way around the table in seniority. Magnus’ eyes danced from Callum to me, confirming that there was an issue with both of us being present and that Callum MacGregor was the source of that issue.
“I am Barard Engelby,” Barand continued introducing himself formally. “To my right are Callum MacGregor, Rodolphus Lestrange, William Fiske, Anders Wollstonecraft, Magnus MacLeod, and Frank Longbottom. To my left, we have Finn Dalcassin, Asmodeus Wessex, Iona MacKenzie,” the only time a Gryffindor was next to a Slytherin, “Nairn Montague, Liam O’Brody, David Gravenor, and Lucius Malfoy.”
I gave each a nod as they were introduced, which they all returned. While the table was circular, it seemed that there was a head of the table, and that seniority was based on age and nothing else. As titles and the like were left at the door, that made perfect sense.
The most recognizable name of the others was Frank Longbottom. He was bound, barring something truly unexpected happening in the next five or so years, to become one of Dumbledore’s most loyal foot soldiers in the coming war. Of the others, I noted that while there were more Slytherins present than in the other houses, it was not a majority with even Hufflepuff having three members of the Circulus Heredum.
“Please, be seated,” Barnard continued once the introductions were taken care of. I allowed the others to sit first as a mark of respect for their position. That earned me a few nods, most notably from Lucius and Iona, though Amycus made no such effort to wait, and was the second seated. His desire to sit left me facing Barnard, seemingly at the lowest position of the table, however, that was acceptable. It granted me the best opportunity to observe the older members of this circle and see, if I could, whose loyalty lay where.
“With your presence, the Circulus Heredum moves to sixteen members; the highest number it has been in my time at Hogwarts, and from what I have read of the records, an event not seen since before the Wizarding World War. Dòmhnall, like Callum and Iona you are technically not an heir, nor were you ever one while at Hogwarts like the others. This is an event that has never occurred before, as you should well understand. However, let me state clearly that your title as Chief MacLeod grants you no greater say or influence over the Circle. It is left along with any position of power, at the doors to this room. If you cannot accept this, then you are free to depart.”
“I have no issues with this,” I replied calmly. “Titles, in theory, matter little at Hogwarts so I have not tried to use mine to influence events in any way.”
Barnard nodded, pleased with my words. “Good. Now, in the Circle we are equal, but one speaks as the voice of all. I hold that position, Praeses, because I am in my final year at Hogwarts, and was elected in a simple majority vote.” At that, I heard a grunt from Callum and then saw Finn smirk at the Ravenclaw’s annoyance. “As Praeses, I determine the matters to be discussed, call them to vote, and in the case where the matter is tied, offer the presiding vote. I cannot force my will upon the Circle, and if a majority of those present seek to override my decisions, or remove me from my position, then that is what shall happen. At the end of this year, I shall stand aside and a new Praeses will be chosen; someone who comes from Sixth Year so that they might only serve as Praeses for but a single year.”
I took his words in, my eyes drifting around the table, taking in the others. As we had students from every year, I would not be able to take control of this Circle until my final year. That was a little irritating but acceptable and it made sense to prevent any one person from taking control of the Circle and dominating it for years at a time. I was unsure what if any, real power this Circle held, but I hoped to learn that in time and see in what ways I might exploit it for my advantage. Something I knew most of the others present would do as well.
Barnard glanced at Callum, who after a roll of his eyes, took over. “As our Praeses has already stated, titles carry no weight in the Circle. Any grievances you might hold to another here are to be left at the door. Be they personal or political. Even a blood feud, be it between individuals or Houses, cannot be brought to this table.”
Finn chuckled “Not had one of those in over a hundred years,” He explained, drawing an irritated glare from Callum; one that Finn just ignored as he kept talking. “We are here to discuss, calmly and patiently, matters of state and decisions made by the Ministry and Wizengamot. We don’t currently hold power to influence such matters, but we will all one day take our place in the Wizengamot,” I caught Callum send an amused smirk at Magnus; one my cousin responded to with a partial snarl, “and it behoves us to learn not only how to lead our Clans and Houses, but how to find common ground with those who hold differing values.”
Silence fell over the room, and I assumed it was to allow Amycus and me to consider and take in the explanation of what the Circle did and how it operated. Unless I was greatly mistaken, there would be more rules, but the basics were logical and practical.
Sensing that we understood what we’d been told, Barnard pulled what at first glance appeared to be a simple sphere of wood from a pocket in his robes. He banged the sphere on the table, and a deep, earthy sound echoed around us. “I bring the first sitting of this new year of the Circulus Heredum to order,” he said, looking around the room as he spoke. “Does anyone have any business they feel must be handled before I formally mark the new year as having begun?” His eyes, and that of a few others, settled on Callum.
The Chief of Clan MacGregor gave me a victorious smirk before speaking. “Yes. I petition for the removal of Magnus MacLeod from the Circulus Heredum. While he is the heir, with his Chief now a member of the Circle, I fear his presence alongside that of his Chief, even though they have both sworn to not bring Clan business into the Circle, will grant Clan MacLeod an outsized influence on matters we discuss. Such an influence could well undermine the ideals the Circulus Heredum was founded upon.”
Barnard listened carefully as Callum spoke, Having seemingly expected this. While his visage remained calm, I noted Finn roll his eyes while another – I believed Lucius – clicked their tongue. “The motion is brought before us, is there a second?” Barnard asked. I didn’t have to look at Amycus to know his hand was raised. His opinion on me had only gotten worse as the first few weeks had passed. What was unexpected was seeing Asmodeus, Lucius, and my cousin Nairn backing the motion. “The motion is supported,” Barnard stated though I swore I caught a flicker of annoyance in his tone. “Magnus, you are granted a minute to compose a response to Callum’s challenge, and then two to respond.”
Silence fell over the room as we waited for my cousin to gather his thoughts. If this was something he and others had expected, then my concern about his reaction to my presence was negated. He was less upset that I could, in theory, override his choices, than this attempt to remove him from the Circle. Still, regardless of the outcome, I would need to speak with him and smooth any ruffled feathers of any perceived overstep. As one of only two other remaining MacLeods – our cousin Tallula was in the same year and house as him – with a clear connection to a recent former chief, I couldn’t afford to have his allegiance slip.
As the minute neared its end, Magnus signalled he was prepared with the nod of his head. At that, Barnard conjured an egg timer, one that would only run for two minutes, as my cousin stood.
“I freely acknowledge that Heir MacGregor has valid concerns regarding the presence of myself and my Chief in the Circle. In normal situations, he is right to say that I am expected to follow his commands regardless of my opinions on them. However, the Circulus Heredum is one of those rare places where such commands need not be followed. Ranks, title, and allegiance are, by the rules of the Circle, left at the door. No matter what he might demand of me, in punishment or reward, for my choices in the Circle, he cannot force my hand nor demand my vote on any matter.” Magnus paused and looked at me, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. I couldn’t be sure if that was fear of what I might do if he disobeyed my demands, or that I might not agree with his interpretation of the rules of the Circle, but I remained silent, letting him keep the floor. “Still, irrespective of the rules of the Circle, I am heir to the Ancient and Noble Clan Macleod and will remain so until either Chief Dòmhnall has a child from a wife or paramour, or he sees fit to replace me as heir with our cousin.”
Magnus paused there and shifted his stare to take in the rest of the Circle. “By the rules of the Circulus Heredum and the ideals under which it was founded, I have the right to have a seat at this table. Moreso than my chief, or Chief MacGregor and Chiefess MacKenzie.” Callum’s eyes narrowed, not liking the point. Iona shifted in her seat, possibly unnerved by Magnus’ observation, but she remained seemingly neutral. “However, if this gathering of the Circle wishes to remove me, chooses to override its most important principle, then I shall accept the ruling with humility, and honour, and bear no ill-will to anyone in this room. This I swear upon my magic.”
Again, silence fell over the room as Magnus sat, and everyone considered his words.
“Thank you, Magnus,” Barnard said before looking at me. “Dòmhnall, as Chief MacLeod, this matter affects you also, so I grant you the right to add your words to Magnus’.”
I took a few moments to consider what I wanted to say before speaking. While I felt confident that Magnus was not going to be voted out of the Circle, I felt there was a way to phrase things that would if not impress the others, then at least let them see I knew the basics of place in the game.
“I cannot say if what Magnus has said is accurate regarding the rules of the Circulus Heredum, as I know little of them. What I will state today, clearly and without conditions, is that as my heir, Magnus is under no obligation to ever vote on any matter the Circle might vote upon in the way I do. I will also concur that until I have children.” For a brief moment my mind remembered my wife and daughter from before the merging, but I pushed them aside and back into the storage area of my developing mind palace before they could interfere with my thoughts. “Until I have children, and barring some great calamity that I cannot currently foresee, he shall remain my heir. On the grounds that the terms that exist between us, and are covered by Clan law, are not broken.” Mangus nodded at hearing that and along with accepting my terms, he seemed relieved I wasn’t trying to remove him from the Circle. “Beyond that, there is little else I can offer in support of Magnus remaining with the Circle; not without a careful examination of the full formal rules of the Circulus Heredum.”
Barnard smiled slightly as I finished. “Your words are heard by the Circle.” He looked at the rest of the table slowly. “The challenge to Magnus’ seat in the Circulus Heredum had been made and he had offered his defence. I now ask for a show of hands in support of the motion to remove him from the Circle.”
As I’d expected, Callum's hand went up, as did Amycus’ and Rodolphus' – that was likely because I was being tutored by Bellatrix and he was a jealous fool – but those were the only hands to support the motion. I offered Asmodeus and Lucuis small nods in thanks since they had supported bringing the matter to a vote, however, I wondered if they might ask something in return for the small favour.
Barnard banged the wooden sphere on the table. “The motion to expel Magnus MacLeod is denied. As per the rules of the Circulus Heredum, the matter can now not be brought back to the Circle until next term at the earliest.” There were nods around the table from many, even Callum though he looked annoyed to have lost the vote – potentially again as I suspected he had tried this last year as well – yet my focus was on Barnard, or more accurately the wooden sphere.
His fingers slid over the surface of the object, and it began glowing with a soft, almost comforting blue light. The light grew in intensity and brightness as it pulsed, and a few seconds later, seemingly from nowhere, a small object appeared from it. That object landed on the table and expanded into a thick, leather-bound tome. There was some writing on the cover, but I was unable to make out what was written.
That extended to the pages when Barnard opened the tome. As he turned the pages, while the text remained unreadable – I suspected magic was causing the issue – I noted that every few pages the style of handwriting changed. I hint that this book had, judging from the number of pages Barnard was shifting through, seen many, many years of the Circulus Heredum.
Once he found an empty page, he left the book open and, as the pulsing of the sphere continued, spoke. “I mark that the first gathering of the Circulus Heredum for the school year of nineteen-sixty-nine through nineteen-seventy as having begun. I mark that Dòmhnall MacLeod and Amycus Carrow are recorded as having joined the Circulus Heredum this year.” As he spoke, scribbles appeared in the book. The words were still unclear, yet I could tell that the style of the writing was different from those on the last page before the current ones. There was magic involved here, one that not only recorded what Barnard was saying but, from what I could determine, did so in his handwriting as it appeared to match that upon the envelope and letter inviting me to this gathering.
That was interesting, and also a little concerning since copying someone’s style of writing could allow one to forge documents in their name. “I mark that a motion by Callum MacGregor to remove Magnus MacLeod from the Circulus Heredum due to his cousin, Domhnall MacLeod being the Chief of Clan MacLeod was denied by a vote of twelve to three.”
Barnard stopped speaking there, and the words on the page ended as well. “Is there any business that should be handled before we cover the minutes of the last gathering of the Circle?” The others – those who had been members of the Circulus Heredum since last year – shook their heads. “Good. Then let us move on to the minutes of the last meeting of the Circle before we discuss anything new.”
As everyone settled into their chairs, my mind wondered what, if any, extra benefits this Circle might bring beyond granting a place to speak with heirs of the Clans and Houses. There was logic in their being such a group at Hogwarts, even if I had not expected there to be one, and already I could see the logic of its existence, and which I might, with time and effort, help prepare those who one day become Chiefs and Lords for what was coming, and the world I wished to create in the aftermath.
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I walked through the corridors of Hogwarts’ dungeon, making my way back to the Slytherin chambers from the library. There I had been teaching and guiding Andrew MacLeod in the ways of the Wizarding world. Bradley Cooper was also present, and Andrew’s fellow muggleborn acted as a reassuring voice and guide while I trained Andrew.
The muggleborn with my clan name had potential, in theory, to be useful to me, both at Hogwarts and going beyond that, and I was willing to delay a decision on his status of becoming my vassal or forcing him and his brother Ewan to become ‘Nemo’ as they lost their family name.
If it had just been Ewan alone, then I’d have brought in the lawyers and submitted the paperwork to the Ministry during the first week of school. The elder muggleborn MacLeod was, in simple terms, an arse. One almost entirely unworthy of having any association with my Clan. His only redeeming feature was his curious nature and while he didn’t come to the tutoring sessions with his brother and Bradley, he had a list of questions that Andrew passed me during each session.
I could’ve ignored those questions or answered them in ways that hid some of the truth from him in an attempt to deceive Ewan into believing that there was nothing wrong with being a muggleborn in the Magical World. However, I didn’t. I felt that being honest, talking about the issues muggleborns faced and how they might be – with gentle pressure and effort – corrected to make a fairer society for all.
This way, when he learnt the truth of how our world worked, he’d not feel I was lying to him. In theory, that would make him more open-minded to my teachings, though I had my doubts. Still, if his dislike for me eased because I answered his questions honestly, or at the very least, he toned down his distaste for the Magical World, then I’d take it. Getting him onside wasn’t my intention with this project, Andrew was.
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Andrew was more open-minded – or possibly just less corrupted by the idea that Slytherin and pureblood meant bad to muggleborns. That was why I’d suggested during our first meeting to speak with Bradley, and why after Andrew said he wanted to learn about our world, his fellow muggleborn had joined the tutoring sessions.
Beyond the fact that creating loyalty in muggleborns in my year – and hopefully other years at Hogwarts – would show I wasn’t the Dark Lord many might expect from a Slytherin, it would begin to lay the groundwork for the path I intended to take after Hogwarts. Walking a line between Dumbledore and Voldemort was going to be difficult – holding the centre against extremists on both sides always was – but it was the path that granted me the highest chance to survive what was coming as something other than a minion of two people whose ideals with which I couldn’t entirely accept.
The other side benefit of tutoring and guiding Andrew in learning and accepting the ways of the Wizarding World was that it gave me another person to experiment upon before I met Lily Evans. I had my plan in place for arranging that first meeting with her, and with Severus Snape, but if I could harness an image of an open-minded pureblood – though not one who felt the current order had to be pulled down and replaced by something styled on the muggle world – it would help make her more receptive toward my attempts to bring her under my sway.
Concerning that, Kadic had, after I’d gained the address for Ewan and Andrew’s home, cast the same spell over their dwelling as he had with Bradley’s parents. There, while early in the year, I was beginning to see rewards. His father had always been uncomfortable about magic, yet in the weeks leading up to the school term starting, he had become more openly aggressive against the idea of magic. Not so much that he would do anything towards Bradley, but enough that Bradley had arrived at Hogwarts a little concerned about how his father would react, and once he started to settle, Bradley was quickly coming around to accepting this was his world now, and not that of the muggles.
The spell Kadic had used was one designed to stir up anti-magic sentiments. It was weak, barely there, but constant exposure to the magic – which I was pleased to have discovered after Kadic cast it twice, wasn’t detected by the Ministry – would slowly corrupt muggles, generating dislike, distrust and eventually hatred toward any and all things magical, even their family. Kadic had to recast the spell every month or so, as making anything permanent might be detected by the Ministry, and my skills with runes were currently far from ready to create something that could duplicate Kadic’s spell. However, I hoped in the next year or so to have a small runed object – something the size of a tennis ball – to be prepared and then left at the homes of the muggles I wanted to develop a hatred of magic. I would just have to be cautious that the devices were hard to detect with either muggle or magical methods.
As I walked, I saw Lucus Malfoy moving in the corridors, gathered not far from the Slytherin chambers along with about ten others. I offered Lucius a nod as we passed which he returned, but neither of us moved to interact. Our social circles, while linked via Slytherin and the Circulus Heredum were different.
He was the clear leader of his year of snakes – which included Narcissa Black – and while our interactions had been limited, we seemed to have a gentle understanding. However, until the end of the first year, and the final tables of how everyone in the school was doing, I doubted his interest in a potential alliance within Slytherin would become apparent. The same was true with those who sat atop the other years in Slytherin, though I did note that often it was the heirs or firstborns – boys and girls – of heirs who held those positions. That explained why Professor Morgan had chosen me and the others as the initial top ten.
As I arrived at the entrance to the Slytherin chambers, the wall shifted, and the massive stone snake slithered around to form the arch where the door lay. §Welcome child of Slytherin. § The snake hissed, though I knew only myself – and however many other Parselmouths might be in Hogwarts – could understand it.
Ever since first hearing it speak, I’d been curious about it, and the other stone snakes that were part of the architecture of Hogwarts. While most of those snakes were in the dungeons near the Slytherin chambers, there were some in other locations, even at the top of the various towers. Some bore the same mark as the statue of Salazar Slytherin that was near my dorms, suggesting they were entrances to either tunnels the Founder had put in place, or possibly passageways that linked to the Chamber of Secrets.
I’d tried speaking Parseltongue to several of these stone snakes, making sure there was no one around before doing so. I’d yet to get any to respond to my requests, even asking those with markings on them didn’t react to commands to open or reveal their secrets. That wasn’t deterring me, however. The idea that Slytherin had used simple commands to activate whatever enchantments he’d placed on anything, such as simply saying ‘open’ to reveal the entrance to the Chamber in the second-floor girl’s bathroom, had always struck me as idiotic.
Parselmouths weren’t, I suspected, as rare as many might believe, so having secret passageways secured with basic commands would leave your secrets exposed to another Parseltongue. No, there had to be passphrases or codewords that I needed. However, without a point of reference, I couldn’t determine what they might be. Nor could I admit after nearly a month at Hogwarts, had I attempted to open the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets in the girl’s bathroom.
Not only was it better to keep that place hidden from others, but I wasn’t anywhere close to being ready to take on a basilisk, one that if it had been placed there when Slytherin had been at Hogwarts, would be over a thousand years old.
Still, the lack of success in getting any of the stone snakes to respond to me wasn’t putting me off. Though I’d yet to speak to the snake at the entrance to the Slytherin chambers. While it was the only one I’d seen move and speak; the fact was the area around it was always crawling with other Slytherin students. I didn’t want word getting out that I was a Parselmouth. Not until my base of power was far more secure, at least, if never all. The less others knew about me, the more tools I had that I could potentially use against them if they became a threat.
“Excellentia non est scientia,” I said quietly using this week’s passcode, as I moved toward the wall. Yes, the other students around me appeared to be fellow Slytherins, but it was wiser to assume some of them weren’t and were seeking access to the chambers. That lesson had been ingrained in me and the other First Years during our first week at Hogwarts and I saw no reason to break from it now.
I stepped through the door and began the descent toward the foyer area of the chambers. As I reached there I saw several of my yearmates and others I knew mingling around. A few nods were all that was required for me to acknowledge them and then move on. I had little reason this evening to mingle, preferring to return to my room and sort out my notes and assignments for tomorrow.
There was nothing new in the lessons, but I still took notes, mainly when a professor hinted at something not covered in the course material so that I could research it later and see if it might be of use to me to learn. As for the assignments, none so far had come close to anything I’d done for my tutors in the years before Hogwarts, nor did I expect them to as the material being covered was extremely basic.
“Well look what we have here. The muggle lover.”
I stop mid-step at hearing a familiar, and annoying, voice and as I turn around I find Amycus walking toward me. With him are six other students from our year, all ranked lower and of far less standing than me. It didn’t take an Unspeakable to determine that those who were following Amycus around in the hopes of earning something simply from kissing his arse.
Around us, several of those in the foyer turned our way, sensing a confrontation. None made any move to intervene, choosing instead to watch the dynamic of power play out. There had been a few instances of this since the year, mainly between students jostling for rank in the house and year, but most had taken place privately. For Amycus to challenge me so publicly, he must feel assured of winning the coming confrontation, and given his mention of muggles, I knew exactly what this was about.
“I would have expected you to understand your place, Carrow,” I said as I turned to face him and his cronies. They wouldn’t attack with magic; the size of the group moving toward me, and the public location ensured that such a display would serve little use to elevating Amycus’ standing. With the duelling rooms barred to First Years, it would also see all of us brought before the Professors if our wands were drawn and used. “I had expected that after your performances in the first tables, you might begin to realise your station was not as a leader but as a faithful dog. However, it seems I am sadly mistaken.”
Amicus paused and his eyes narrowed dangerously. For a moment I thought he might draw his wand. Sadly, it seemed he had enough sanity to not commit such an error. “It is not I who is mistaken, but MacLeod, for believing you deserve to be in the house of those to understand that those of standing and power deserve to stand above those without it. You are the one who chooses to spend his evening cavorting with muggles instead of with your own kind.”
“Once again you display a lack of knowledge, or perhaps intelligence, Carrow. Andrew MacLeod, his brother, and others are not muggles. They are muggleborns.” As I spoke, I noted that several others were turning our way, intrigued by the standoff between myself and Amycus.
“Muggleborn or muggles, they’re all the same. They came from mud and that is where they should stay.” Those with him, and I noted, a few others in the foyer, nodded in agreement. While disappointing, the faces of everyone who seemed to agree with Amycus imprinted in my mind as potential issues I might have to either take down or remove in the coming years.
It was unlikely I could gain everyone in Slytherin under my sway before I graduated – particularly the older students – but the fewer potential followers Voldemort could recruit the better my chances of surviving what was coming. The same went for those who’d back Dumbledore to a degree; the biggest difference being that until later in the war – at least in the other timeline – Dumbledore had been reluctant to allow his minions.
“I must say I’m disappointed in such a narrow-minded view, Carrow. Did no one ever tell you that from mud, bricks for walls, like those in this castle, or works of art can be created? To dismiss that mud could be crafted into something of value is incredibly shortsighted. Besides, if the mud, as you casually refer to them, is useless, then why are they here instead of those, unlike ourselves who are assured of places, born with magical parentage?”
Carrow glared back at me, seemingly not expecting me to defend my time spent tutoring Andrew and Bradley as I had. It wasn’t the spiel one would expect from Dumbledore or his backers, which was what most purebloods, and those who believed in the magical world being better than muggle one, would expect.
“Mud is mud.” That came from Stephen Nott, one of those with Amycus. He wasn’t from the main branch of House Nott, instead being a cadet branch. With no major prospects in his house, it made sense he, and those like him who were backing Carrow would choose to ally with someone who did so that as he rose in statute, they had the chance to rise with him.
“And blood is blood, which makes it surprising that you are standing with the heir to House Carrow, Nott. However, given your performance in class and elsewhere, not a huge surprise. Sediment does seem to gather together when it can.” Nott bristled at my words, as did Amycus and the others but before they could respond another voice cut in.
“Bar those like yourself, MacLeod, and Carrow there, the rest of us are here as we have the highest potential for magic of the children born in our year.” I turned to the source of the voice and saw Vesta Malfoy standing with others – including two of the other girls Professor Morgan had marked out on your first night in Slytherin – watching the exchange between myself and Amycus with interest. “We are here to unlock that potential and achieve our desires.”
“Indeed, Miss Malfoy. You carry great potential,” I replied with a nod in support of her words. That earned me a smile that carried a hint of interest in something about me. Putting that aside, I turned back to Amycus to continue my point. “Now, considering that the muggleborns that are at Hogwarts have the same potential as everyone else, and thus are mud that has the capacity to become something other than plain average pottery, would it not behove us to mould them in ways that could benefit our world instead of ostracising them, and risk them attempting, not succeeding I should state but attempting, to bring down our society?”
“They’ll never be capable of doing that, MacLeod,” Amycus retorted, “to believe that is folly of the highest order.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “I literally said they would not succeed, Carrow. Have you taken leave of your facilities, or do you just hear what you want and ignore the rest?” I waved my hand, pushing the point aside –to not grant him the chance to respond – and kept going. “However, let us consider your idea that as they come from mud, the muggleborns should not be present at Hogwarts. I assume that would mean replacing them with those born in our world. With those of pure magical blood?”
“Yes. Only those who understand the way things should be, of proper standing, and who know their place should be allowed within these hallowed walls.” Amycus sounded proud of his words, and I noted that many were nodding in agreement. However, just as many weren’t – particularly those from the higher years – and I wondered if they saw the flaw in Amycus’ idea that I was about to exploit to shatter his argument and, at least for the time being, push away concerns many might have with my spending time with a few muggleborns.
“By your statement, I assume you mean those that espouse the values of this great house?” I asked, spreading my arms wide to indicate Slytherin.
“Yes. The rest, while having potential, exist only to prove our superiority.”
“Then let us consider the logistics of your proposal, shall we?” I started walking from side to side, mimicking a professor lecturing to undisciplined students. “If we remove all the muggleborns in Hogwarts, we’re talking about, at a rough guess, fifty to a hundred students per year. Now, if we replace them with the students you propose, then I assume they would all be sorted into Slytherin?”
“Yes,” Amycus responded quickly, stepping toward me and trying to draw support for his stance. “Only those who understand that purebloods should rule should attend Hogwarts.” Around the foyer, I saw a few students still agreeing with him, but most seemed disenfranchised by Amycus’ suggestion.
I paused in my walking and looked at him carefully before sighing and then shaking my head. “So, you are stating that you wish to allow those of limited potential into the ranks of our great house? That you wish to dilute the quality and excellence of our ranks with those weaker and incapable of matching our potential? That you wish to weaken the standard of the great house that Salazar Slytherin created simply to appease your ego?”
Amycus stepped toward me, ready to respond. However, he stopped, his mouth hanging open slightly as he understood the trap I’d led him into. He was educated well, like any in our year, but I had the experience of adulthood and decades of understanding of how to think beyond my gaze with which to rip him apart in a debate such as this. Now, I understood that many would still dislike me spending time with Andrew and Bradley – and potentially more if Bradley’s hints that other muggleborns wished to learn about the Wizarding World and how to move within it – but I felt would grant me some additional leeway to continue, as many might see it, a flawed experiment.
“It is disappointing to hear a desire to weaken the foundations of our glorious house with those lacking the potential to be accepted into it.” I paused and allowed a grin to creep onto my face. “This… desire to accept any and all into our house is more suited to a badger than a snake, Carrow.” I saw his fists clench, the insult cutting deep, yet he knew he’d lost the argument and that any action taken now would only further undermine his position in the house and our year. Not that, it should be said, he had much to begin with, and I was amused to see several of those who had come with him to support his confronting me back way, subtly removing their support from him.
Knowing the debate, if one could call it that, was over, I turned and headed toward the corridor that led to my dormitory. I still had my assignments to look over one final time before they were due tomorrow.
“Your logic is sound,” I heard another familiar voice say as I entered the passageway to my dorm, “however, it doesn’t excuse the fact that you are both spending time with muggleborns – even those who bear your clan name – and that you suggest you are accepting of muggleborns being present in Hogwarts.”
I turned to the speaker, who’d spoken quietly enough that their voice hadn’t carried to everyone in the foyer, to see it was Lucius Malfoy. I had not seen him enter the foyer, but with my focus on Amycus, it seemed he had slipped in behind me and overheard enough of the debate to be willing to offer an opinion.
“As I said, they have the same potential as any other student here, though they lack the standing and breeding of those such as ourselves.” Lucius lowered his head, accepting that point. “I admit that it is unlikely that many of the muggleborns will amount to anything in their life, but I could say the same of many in Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Is it not better to see if for every hundred muggleborns fail to become something more than simple coal, we could craft a single diamond? Should we not work to ensure that they understand the way of our world, and thus do not attempt to undermine and weaken us either with the support of, or indirectly helping the true threat to our people? That of the muggles.”
Lucius considered my words for a moment. “You wish to turn the muggleborns with your clan name into pawns for some game you are playing?”
“In a sense, yes.”
“I do not believe the effort is worth it, nor that a single drop of their blood will bring anything of worth to our world. However, I find myself willing to observe how your experiment proceeds.” He moved closer and offered me a look suggesting there was more he wished to discuss. “I could even if you so wished, find time in my schedule so that we might debate the matter further. Your ideas are flawed, but perhaps there is an… opportunity to alter perceptions of those new to our world. At least enough that they do not become a nuisance that needs to be removed.”
“I would be honoured to have such discussions with you, Heir Malfoy, and to explain other matters.” Shifting Lucius’ opinions on various matters could, with work, help turn him from one of Voldemort’s strongest supporters into my ally. It would be difficult, but it was definitely worth the effort, and it might well grant me access to others who could be turned from Voldemort’s side. Not Amycus though, or those like him.
They were, while still young, little better than blinkered horses, unable to see the world outside their narrow, limited view. They were bound to serve Voldemort, just as those like James Potter – and I suspected even after my best efforts, Sirius Black – would back Dumbledore to a hilt. What I had to do was work the middle ground, find those open to a path that didn’t require either blind obedience, or pathetic inactiveness, and create a force to, if not outright win the coming war, then grant me a chance to influence the aftermath.
… …
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… …
I walked around the grounds to the north of Hogwarts, on a late but unexpectedly mild October evening, in the gap between the castle itself and the wall that ran from the banks of the Black Lake to the cliffs beyond the quidditch pitch. That wall was a sign that when Hogwarts was built it wasn’t purely as a school for magical children. One doesn’t build a bailey with towers and crenulations without the intent for them to potentially be used in the defence of the location. Now, the wall was small, barely two stories high at its peak, but I suspected that in its heyday, magic allowed it to be a far more effective barrier. Merlin, it might still be capable of doing so, but the fact sections of the wall were damaged so that someone could see, and in theory, walk through, suggested the magic in them was if not gone, then long dormant.
It was toward that wall and the sections where I could see what lay beyond that I was head on this night as the moon waxed high above. Around the grounds, I saw other students ambling and lazing about. Most were involved in discussions with their friends, or playing Gobstones or other simple games. Some were crouched over in a seat – be it one intended for such a purpose or a temporary location – reading whatever had taken their fancy while a handful of older students were enjoying the company of another. One or two, I saw as I walked, using a shaded section of the grounds to do more than just fraternise.
None of them, however, had my attention, nor did the large quidditch stadium that lay up the hill from the castle, near the cliffs against which the wall ended. I’d been inside the stadium several times now, enjoying the games of quidditch that took place each weekend, though I had no interest in joining the teams next year. While my initial issues with flying on a broom had been overcome, and I found peace being high above the grounds, looking down on the muggles as they scurried about like ants, the game had never gained any appeal with me. However, it was half-expected that I attend and support my house.
Unlike in the other timeline, due to the large size of the student body in my Hogwarts, each house had four teams. Two were composed of students from Second through Fourth Year, and two from Fifth Year upwards. In theory, the teams should be balanced but they seldom were, with the first team of the junior and senior leagues being the older and thus generally better players and the second team made up of younger students and backups. The teams from one house couldn’t compete against each other – to avoid accusations of cheating – but otherwise, the system was simple.
Each team would play the other six in their level three times, and at the end of the year, the two top teams would face off for the quidditch cups. The team that finished higher was granted bonus points representing the gap in the standings, forcing the other team to have to attack heavily if they wished to steal the cup away from the other team. So far only the junior teams had played each other, and while the Slytherin Three – the better of the two junior teams – had won both its games, Slytherin Four sat one win and one loss, but there was a lot of time still to go before the champions were named and points earned for the Grand House Cup.
For the First Year Cup, I sat second in Slytherin behind Penelope Parkinson, the youngest daughter of the current Lord Parkinson, in points earned. The rest of our yearmates were doing well with earning points as well, and we sat about fifty points behind Ravenclaw. The reason we were behind was entirely down to Stephen Nott.
The son of a branch of House Nott had not only used the term ‘mudblood’ in public but done so near a muggleborn professor. The week-long detention had been easier for Nott than the distaste everyone held for him for costing us a hundred points and the lead for the First Year House Cup.
The other years were doing well, with only the Third Year Slytherins lower than second in their cup table. The one place where Slytherin was if not dominating, then at least the clear leader was the duelling cups. The sword-duelling groups were dominated by boys born into Ancient Clans and Houses, and since many of those families were pureblood, or espoused beliefs that supported their position at the top of society, such boys found themselves most often in Slytherin. So much so that both champions – again there was a divide based on age – had been Slytherins. The Senior champion had graduated, while the Junior champion had moved into Fifth Year and was now competing in the Senior circuit.
The wand duelling competitors were more evenly spread through the four houses of Hogwarts, and while the Senior Duellist had been a Gryffindor – he had graduated – the Junior champion had been not only a Slytherin but one I knew reasonably well. Bellatrix Black had won the title two years running, joining a very select list of Third Years to be crowned Junior Duelling Champion, though with her now moving into Fifth Year, her title was up for grabs. However, as much as I wished to join both duelling clubs I would have to wait until next year to take part as they, like positions on the quidditch teams, weren’t open to First Years.
There were other clubs in Hogwarts, some affecting the Grand House Cup and others not, but things such as gobstones and the like held little interest to me. Additionally, I had other pursuits that held my focus, one of which was why I was out here tonight, with the other major one being learning magic for Eradicator’s Grasp and destructive magic.
The Path of Destruction by Banidar Vlidmar was an enlightening read. I only brought the book out when I was assured of being alone – such as inside my chest – however what Banidar hinted at, what he suggested was possible with destructive magic was incredible and terrifying. I understood clearly that I was years, possibly even decades from being able to unleash even half of the chaos he spoke of, of attempting the greatest of the spells he’d created, never mind designing my own. Yet, for all that, the book fascinated me. As did the concept of shadow magic via the Embrace of Shadows.
I’d finally over the last summer managed to start manipulating shadows and shade around me. It wasn’t much, just altering their shape and size by channelling the magic flowing through me into them, but it was a start; one that had inspired me to push harder to learn more about this unusual, and based on the fact there were scant few books on the subject rather rare branch of magic. It had taken time, but I felt that a few nights ago I’d had an epiphany, and after that not only had it seemed easier to manipulate shadows, but that there was something more to them, something deeper inside them.
Taking a chance on Sunday evening, I’d pushed my hand into a shadow in my dorm, watching it sink in as an odd sensation rippled over my skin. Before I’d been able to go further, however, Lasadh and Godwine entered the room. The same issue had crept up during the week whenever I’d attempted to do more than sink my hand into a shadow, which was why not, on this mild Friday evening, I was heading to an isolated spot near the wall of Hogwarts.
Beyond the abundance of shadows that existed here at night, it was a generally isolated area of the grounds available to First Years, and thus I was unlikely to be disturbed by other students while I pushed the boundaries of what I knew and could do.
The wall was the boundary on the northern side of the castle beyond which First Years weren’t permitted to head. And while the wall itself wouldn’t stop anyone from getting past, and thus heading on to Hogsmeade, nearby hamlets, the Forbidden Forest, or any other location nearby, the ward placed on the wall did.
The ward had been explained to us on our first day in Hogwarts, as something simple that was designed to prevent us from leaving the grounds. It wouldn’t hurt us but would ensure that we wouldn’t be able to cross the boundary. While we were told that it would be possible to overcome the boundary once we were in Second Year, I felt that was a misdirection; that being able to cross the boundary was linked to unlocking the second pathway of the magic that flowed through us.
From all my lessons, tutoring sessions, and private readings, a new pathway generally opens each year between the ages of twelve and seventeen. The timing varied based on the physical and mental maturity of the individual, but the rule of one new pathway each year was the standard. However, given my mind was a blending of one my physical age with another far older, I felt I had an advantage there, along with my potential being at the upper echelons of what was possible. I knew I wasn’t there yet, but I expected to unlock the second pathway before the end of term, about half a month before my birthday.
That, however, was a matter for another day. What was my focus this evening was my shadow magic and what lay beyond the skin of shade. Before then, however, I wished to examine this barrier keeping me inside the grounds of Hogwarts.
I moved toward the wall, extending an arm in front of me. With my eyes closed, I tried to sense the magic in the boundary ward, seeking to understand it. It took a few steps before I felt the magic of the castle pushing back against mine, trying to restrict my movements. It wasn’t trying to hurt me, just persuade me to stop and turn back. Curious, I shuffled forward more, sensing as the ward grew firmer and more insistent in its demands.
I could feel myself struggling to move, the ward both hindering my forward movement and pushing against my mind, pleading and then demanding that I turn back. Another few steps and I felt the pressure grow, my breaths harder to take and my movements slowing. The barrier grows ever more insistent that I turn back, and I can feel it now actively seeking to make me do so. Yet, for all its efforts, I find myself straining to advance, sensing that while I was close, I couldn’t yet overcome the barrier, couldn’t leave the inner grounds of Hogwarts.
I slid back, taking a deep breath as I felt the boundary ward lessen its influence over my magic. “Interesting,” I murmured. As I’d expected the barrier was one designed not to hurt but to stop anyone crossing it, but if one was even remotely powerful enough, then it couldn’t contain them. That increased my desire to unlock my second pathway and see if that would be enough to allow me to overpower the ward and slip beyond the inner grounds of Hogwarts.
It was likely that there were other wards and barriers in other places – the Forbidden Forest being an obvious example – but I wouldn’t know until I came near them. However, if my thoughts about Shadow Magic were true, then such wards and others like them – but probably not those around an older estate or castle and certainly not war wards at full power – wouldn’t pose an issue to any desire I had to enter a location.
I moved away from the wall, finding a group of trees that not only half-hid me from the sight of anyone on the nearby paths but created dozens of shadows on the ground. Many touched each other, creating a huge form for me to interact with.
That was useful, but first I was going to use a smaller shadow, one hidden on the back of the tree. It was about half as tall as I was and less than that in width. I closed my eyes and reached forward, pressing my hand against the surface. There, as in my dorm and elsewhere, I felt a faint response. As if a liquid barrier was caressing my palm.
Pushing forward, I felt my hand slip into the liquid and when I opened my eyes, I saw that everything beyond the wrist was now inside the shadow. Fighting off the need to laugh at feeling this sensation again, I step toward the tree, watching as more of my arm slips into the shadow, disappearing beneath its still blackness.
Once nearer, I tentatively reach out with a foot, pushing against it and then into the shadow. Rocking forward slightly, I tested the other side, unsure what, if any surface lay through this portal of darkness. As I felt something push back against the sole of my shoe, I knew there was purchase on the other side of the portal, but this shadow was too small for me to enter through, which was exactly why I’d chosen it.
I pulled my foot and arm back, feeling the odd, and yet not entirely unknown, magic of whatever lay inside the portal brush over the limbs until, after a few seconds, I had both of them back in the real world. With a wide smile on my face, one that others might well consider deranged or concerning, I moved toward a larger shadow in this small grove of trees, one that was on the ground.
Laying down on the ground, I took a breath before closing my eyes and pushing my head toward the shadow. As the tip of my nose brushed against the surface of darkness, I felt the same magic that had brushed over my arm and leg. Deciding it was worth the risk; I pushed my head through. I gasped, just barely keeping my mouth closed as I did so, at feeling this new magic, yet one that felt both familiar and right, washed over my skull. Once my head was fully inside the portal, I opened my eyes.
The world around me was, as I’d expected, black, and yet I could see, in a sense. Everything was dark, yet there were shades to the darkness, subtly to the blackness, such that I could make out roughly what was around me. There were no trees, walls, or castle as I knew were around the rest of my body in the real world. Yet there was a sense of what was where, and as I looked deeper into this new Shadow-Realm, I saw something. Well, lots of things really.
All around me, above, below, left, and right were shimmering flickers of energy. Possibly even light. On some instinctive level, I understood that these were other portals leading to the other shadows around me in the real world. There was a desire to push further into this shadow, to fall into the Shadow-Realm but that felt dangerous. There was a chance, based on how this shadow was positioned on the ground, that I might struggle to get back out once I fully entered the Shadow-Realm.
I pulled my head back through the barrier between realms, keeping my eyes and mouth closed since I didn’t know what might happen or how the shift from Shadow-Realm to the real world might affect my sight and taste. Nothing happened with my sense of smell or hearing, but I wasn’t going to risk damaging my eyes or mouth as they were far more important.
Once back in the real world, I rolled to one side and looked up at the stars. The sky shone back at me, stars twinkling from almost unfathomable distances away, while nebula and other objects added their brilliance to the spectacle. Yet, for all the radiance of the night’s sky, my mind was still marvelling at my fight sight of the Shadow-Realm, and the truly alien but oddly recognisable majesty of it.
Once I’d recovered from my wonder at seeing the Shadow-Realm – I’d come up with a better name in the future, but that would do for now – I sat up and looked around. Seeing what I needed, I moved toward that shadow. It was still hidden in the small grove I was in, but critically was a vertical shadow that was wide enough for me to, in theory, crawl through. Yes, stepping into the Shadow Realm was a risk, but I felt safe in doing so, and I might not get a better night than tonight given that from late October this area of Scotland was renowned for getting cold, wet, and windy as winter drew nearer.
I moved cautiously toward and then through the shadow. Once one foot was in the Shadow Realm, and I felt something solid – though I couldn’t see anything – under my feet, I moved more of my body into the Realm. Eventually, I had everything but my hand inside the Shadow Realm, and I looked around in wonder.
For a long time, I stood there, every part of me but my hand inside this new realm, trying to see and learn what I could. The cold and rational part of my mind, the one protected by Occlumency, told me that this was far enough for tonight. That I could come back tomorrow, or go elsewhere and push further on another day. However, that spark of interest, that need to know that had many wondering if I might end up in Ravenclaw, wanted me to push further; to step into the unknown, and it was that spark that won out.
As my hand slipped through the portal, bringing me entirely into the Shadow-Realm I tensed; fearful of what might happen. Yet, as I stood there, on ground I couldn’t see, nothing did. I took slow breaths, keeping calm while my mind ensured I didn’t panic at finding myself in a realm composed – bar the sprinkles of light from the various portals back to the real world – entirely of seeming nothingness. There was no ground, no obvious way to orient myself or understand how to move from point to point, from portal to portal, yet I wasn’t panicking as I’d expected. It was almost as if this realm was a part of me, possibly a side effect of the Embrace of Shadows perk.
Looking around, the sparkles of energy drew my attention, and I moved forward cautiously, uncertain of my footing when there was nothing to step on, toward the nearest one. It shimmered with flickering specks of light. While those weren’t bright, I caught enough in the flickers to know that what was on the other side were the grounds of Hogwarts. Most of the portals were too small to do anything with, but several seemed large enough for me to push through.
Moving toward one nearby, which if there was any correlation to the real world would still be in the grove of trees, I lifted my hand and placed it against the portal. Unlike with those in the real world where it felt like I had to push through water to get into the Shadow-Realm, this time the portal pulled my hand in. I let my head go through as well, wanting to confirm where I was.
“Shit!” I spat out as I found myself looking straight down at the ground, about four metres above it. I panicked for a moment before calming, knowing that the rest of my body wasn’t here, and thus I couldn’t fall. Once accepting of my location, I looked around.
This shadow was produced by a section of broken wall, not far from where I’d entered the Shadow-Realm, yet the distance in the real world was, at a guess as I had no way currently to know for sure, easily five times the distance between the two portals in the Shadow-Realm. That was concerning as it hinted that I’d have to spend time judging each portal before exiting fully. Not just to have the right orientation, but to ensure I came out where I wanted.
I pulled my head and arm back into the Shadow-Realm and looked around. I was still reasonably certain of where the portal I’d used to enter was. An almost sixth sense told me that, which I had to assume was how this realm worked when I entered it to help ensure I didn’t get lost. However, I had little evidence to support my theory. Still, I would have to be extra careful before stepping through a portal as I didn’t want to suffer a nasty accident or worse because of a mistake.
I moved around slowly, taking my time to look at the energy flickers of each portal, trying to determine where each one lay. With everything outside being dark and the distance between portals not consistent between the realms, it was hard to be entirely sure of which portal might be worth exiting through.
I stopped at one portal as what appeared to be the wall around Hogwarts, specifically with the castle behind them, seemingly appeared in the flickers of energy dancing over the portal’s surface. I stood there, watching the rippling energy of the portal, seeking confirmation that this portal – which was not that far from where I’d entered the Realm – opened beyond the boundary ward. That was what I’d been hoping to discover tonight.
Once I was sure the portal was beyond the boundary ward, I pushed my head through the portal and looked around. I was closer to the ground this time, perhaps a metre above it, and the grass below me would ensure a soft landing. However, as much as the desire to simply walk out the portal and emerge beyond Hogwarts wall, I didn’t. That was too great a risk. Something that was proven as I heard voices approaching.
I pulled my head back into the Shadow-Realm and felt a grin that would scare many spread over my face. “YES!” My voice raced away from me, carried somehow into the realm I enjoyed the moment. I now had a way to get around the boundary ward, and in theory, other wards protecting other locations. However, that was a matter for much later on. For now, the simple fact I could slip from the grounds without being seen was going to be extremely useful.
With the primary reason to enter the Shadow-Realm now proven to work, I decided to begin exploring. The various portals all seemed to open nearby, but as I’d noted before, the distance between them here didn’t correlate with distances in the real world. Nor, I quickly noted, alignment. Many of the portals appeared to open at angles that would be tricky to challenging to handle once back in the real world.
Yet as I moved further away from where I’d entered the realm – I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I did know which portal I’d come through – it became harder to move. Not like with the ward pushing me back, but as if I were being pulled back. A few more steps and I almost fell, the nothingness that was supporting me suddenly not doing so.
Frowning, I look around, trying to determine what has happened. It took me a few moments to understand that I was seemingly tied to my entrance portal and that I couldn’t go further without first exiting through a nearby portal. I was certain this was what was going on, and that with time and training, I could go further. I wasn’t sure how I knew that, but like much of what I knew about the Shadow-Realm, I just instinctively knew.
Understanding that limitation, and feeling that I’d spent enough time within this realm, perhaps too long, I returned to the portal I’d entered through, guided by the same tug that had limited the distance I could move away from it. I stepped through easily, feeling more comfortable with my movement. However, I realised I wasn’t as skilled as I believed. My foot caught on a root that was partially exposed, and I went face-first into the dirt.
I coughed as I recovered, spitting out dirt that had entered my mouth. “Bloody hell,” I cursed as I used my sleeve to wipe my face clear of the dirt. After doing that, I stood and wiped myself down, irritated at the contemptible exit from the portal. Yet as soon as I finished, I fell back to the ground, my limbs unable to move as I found myself bound in bands of black.
“How did you do that?” I heard a female voice say as I struggled against the bands even as I understood they were cast with shadow magic. Footsteps came closer to me, and I heard the girl tsk. “MacLeod. I had hoped you knew nothing, but it seems you are aware of the Fearann na Scáthanna.”
My body was turned around and lifted, bringing me face to face with my captor. Based on her robes she was a Fifth-Year Ravenclaw, with hair so brilliantly red it appeared to be ablaze. That image was countered by her blue eyes which seemed colder than the coldest tundra. “Let us discuss your recent discovery, and what it might mean for us going forward,” She said before turning on her heel and walking toward the centre of the grove I’d been using to access the Shadow-Realm.
As my body turned, guided by the bands of shadow that held me tight, and that I couldn’t overcome, I watched as she headed toward the largest shadow on the ground. She paused and offered me a teasing smile before descending into the portal as if walking down a flight of stairs.
My mouth dropped open, surprised, intrigued, and even a little excited by the display of control she had over entering the Shadow… No, she called it Fearann na Scáthanna, so that was what I’d do. The words were Gaelic, Irish Gaelic if I was correct, but I wasn’t certain of their meaning as I was dragged along behind her, slipping into the Fearann na Scáthanna and being engulfed in its blacky embrace once again.
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