66 Chapter 66
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Chapter 41– Get To the Train.
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I take a moment to take that in as I quirk an eye at Dumbledore, showing my confusion. I don't want to give anything away, and this guy clearly has a reason to be asking me this. "Hasn't he? I started attending other competitions after winning there, so I didn't know. I also didn't know the man personally." I say, and that is true. Nothing false there. That is what happened.
"Oh, is that so? Curious." Stop being so unendingly mysterious and shit, old man. I respect the hustle, but can you just get to the point. Stop keeping me in suspense. I subtly use my Occlumency, not so much that it is obvious, but lightly to control myself and keep myself measured without revealing anything to Dumbledore.
"What's curious?" I ask, reaching down for my Butterbeer and taking a sip. I direct a look at Filius, asking him what the hell is going on, but he just shrugs at me with a helpless look, and I understand that he doesn't really know what is going on either. He thinks Dumbledore was only here for another reason, and oh, I can guess what that reason is.
"Well, that same evening, there was a big fire in the alleyways of Diagon Alley. Apparently, it was so big that all of the people in Diagon Alley could see it, and it even made the papers. An Auror friend of mine called me for help since they were positively stumped." He says, reaching down for his own Butterbeer and taking a sip, and my mind fizzles for a moment. I bought two Butterbeers for myself and Filius, but now on the table, there are three, and he didn't walk in with one. Huh. Let's ignore that.
"Oh, it must have been something to call you in," I say. I saw the bit in the news and realised my own mistake. I was focused entirely on defending myself when he set that Fiendfire off, and so I didn't see the full extent of it, and I had no other frame of reference for it. Which is why I realised that the fire damage I left was much too minor for the amount seen that night, but there was nothing I could do about it. A big mistake, especially now that this guy is on the trail.
"Yes, they called me in because there was a big fire that everybody could see, but when they got there, there was only a small burnt area. It didn't match up. And also, there was very little magic in the air." I expected all of that, but the last thing threw me for a loop. I didn't understand at all, and nothing like that had popped up in all of my studies.
"There was little magic in the air? Sorry, I am afraid I don't understand." I say, now curious about the subject. Very little magic in the air, so that is obviously something that is not supposed to happen, which means there was supposed to be magic in the air, but there was none.
"Ah, I suppose this isn't common knowledge. Very well. Essentially, in very heavily populated areas, populated by wizards, that is, and where there are magical ongoings, magic tends to fill the air. Diagon Alley is such a place, and that fact that there was very little meant that something interesting must have happened there." He says, and I find myself drawn in and wanting to talk more. Before, I realised that talking more would mean talking more about the murder I committed, and so I tried to get back on track. I can research this later.
"Okay. That is very interesting, but could we-" I try to get back on track and get away from all of this murder talk. However, Dumbledore isn't one to let others dictate the flow of conversation, and he carries on like I didn't say anything.
"Yes, and there was a burnt body there. And since Piotr Rasputin hasn't been seen since that night, it is presumed it is him." He says, barging ahead and just blurting that out. And I find myself stopping, looking at the man incredulously. Thankfully that reaction actually seems quite natural. Still, the guy just brought it out into the open.
"The guy I beat in the final? And on the same night, he died? What happened?" I ask because now this in some way involves me, and to just shirk past it would be callous. And I don't want Dumbledore thinking ill of me because then he will nitpick my every decision.
"Yes, and it looked like a mugging. There were no belongings on him." Dumbledore carries on, his glasses on the end of his nose.
"But... he was a good dueler. I fail to believe that he was mugged." Instead of staying to and trying to push the narrative I initially made, I changed my tune and tried to disprove it. Thereby furthering myself from suspicion... I think.
"Yes, and it was made to look like he was attacked and robbed. However, with the lack of magic and the surprisingly neat surroundings, I can only conclude Fiendfire was used, and then someone repaired the damage." He says, and I direct a confused gaze at him. How can he conclude that it was Fiendfire from all of that?
"Fiendfire? What is that?" I say, wanting to know more about it. This is actually a good opportunity. Across from me sits one of the most knowledgeable men on magic, and I can question him on a dangerous magic without it seeming suspect.
"Fiendfire is a cursed fire that eats up magic. If the wielder is not capable of controlling it, then it will go out of control and grow bigger and bigger while eating all of the surrounding magic. It is quite the dangerous piece of dark magic and is banned in the wizarding world everywhere. It could doom entire magical communities as a never-ending magic fuelled fire. Only the muggles would be safe since they have none." Dumbledore explains, his face uncharacteristically serious, and I am glad I never actually practised it. That was a bullet missed.
"So, this Fiendfire was the cause of their being little magic in the air, and it was what killed Rasputin. Burned him to death." I say, coming to the natural conclusion, but Dumbledore shakes his head.
"No, I am afraid that Fiendfire isn't what ended Piotr Rasputin's life. If it was Fiendfire, there would have been no body to find. It would have completely destroyed the body till there was nothing left, feeding on his magic. No, he was killed after Fiend fire was used, and it was staged." Dumbledore says, and it amazes me that this man was able to figure out nearly the entire situation just from the tiny clues left behind. Though, admittedly, I had no clue about the levels of magic in the air, but I will definitely remember that if I ever happen to be in such a situation again.
"And you are telling me this because..? You want me to figure out who did it? Is that it?" I ask, looking at the man again. Seriously, the only reason I could come up with aside from being a suspect would be that he wants me to investigate it, and so that is what I went with. I really hope it is that so I can escape punishment, and at the same time, I don't because I would probably have to find a scapegoat.
"No, no, don't worry yourself. Rasputin had a lot of enemies, so it could have been anyone. But you were one of the last people to see him alive, so I just wanted to see what you knew. It is clear you didn't pay the man much attention." Dumbledore says, and I sigh a breath of relief in my mind because I have officially escaped persecution. Still, that doesn't mean I am out of the dog house, and I can't let myself be caught at the final hurdle.
"Well, if that is all," I say, finishing my Butterbeer and placing it on the table, making it clear that I am about to leave. I really hope this old man sticks to his slow and steady routine, so I can slip out of here before he can get a word out. But alas, it was not to be.
"I also wanted to illustrate to you that the wizarding world is dangerous, and we all need to be prepared for its dangers." I don't even manage to get my arse off the wooden chair when he speaks, and I ease back into it as he says that. It is clear that he has a point to make. He's making a pitch, and I know what it is. This was what I was expecting.
"Yes, that is true." I agree with the man. He doesn't have to tell me. I mean, we were literally discussing the man I had to murder because he threatened my life. Yeah, okay, that was because I overestimated myself and was arrogant and brought it on myself, but still. I know how dangerous this world is. Voldemort is out there, and so are his deadly Death Eaters, not to mention the lackeys that can be equally deadly, like Digworth.
"Indeed, and the children of Hogwarts need to be educated properly so that they are prepared for the world ahead of them, which can be as dark as it is wonderful. Which is why their education in Defence Against The Dark Arts is so important, and I currently don't have a teacher for that subject this year..." He says, trailing off at the end and looking at me expectantly. I knew this was coming, but I still just didn't want to believe it.
"Okay..." I really would rather stay away, but it seems that such a thing is impossible. Hogwarts is the beginning and the end.
"Gilderoy, would you please be the teacher?" ... Goddamn it.
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And that is how I found myself going to Hogwarts to be the Defence Against The Dark Arts Teacher for Harry Potter's second year of Hogwarts. Where a Basilisk would be set loose. I couldn't exactly say no, not after he talked about Rasputin. I felt like the man was testing me to see my reaction. If I refused, he would think I didn't want to be near him because he was investigating and I would be a suspect. Plus, I did technically already agree to Filius when he told me before my first-ever duel. So, yeah. Here I am, and I have to make sure things proceed as close to canon as possible.
Still, I managed to get some advantages out of it. I wasn't just going to agree straight out, and I negotiated some benefits for myself. First of all, I got to make my books part of the school curriculum. And with each book being sold for a couple galleons, and each and every student needing the complete set, let's just say I made a boatload. Without working, I could probably survive off of that amount for the next ten years.
Of course, I also had to make some changes to the books so they could be used to teach. The originals, while fine pieces of fiction, weren't exactly teaching materials, and so I had to make new copies of each book, and that is why everybody needed a new copy. That also took up some of my time. Still, I am glad I went and erased all of the original heroes' memories and cleaned them up because I managed to take the actual memories for myself. And so, with the true memories, I was able to rewrite the books, true to life with factual information and teachable material. Dumbledore assured me that Hogwarts foots the bill for those that can't get their school supplies or the school tuition.
It's interesting, actually. This is how most Muggleborns are screwed over. Those who take this deal have to pay it back later on, whether they manage to get a job or not. Three years after they leave Hogwarts, there are no excuses. And it is double the amount that was actually used for their school supplies. I guess the purebloods were tired of the taxes they paid having to go to helping Muggle-borns, and this is their way of making them pay.
The money doesn't even go to any of the purebloods but to the ministry. They must have voted on it just to screw the muggle-borns. I don't know how any of the Muggleborns actually ended up paying this, but I am betting they dip a hand into the criminal side of things in the Muggle world, or they work morning, noon and night to pay it off. I am also guessing that those who can't pay either run away to another country or are branded dark wizards and imprisoned in Azkaban. This society is really fucked up. Well, that is not my problem.
In fact, it works to my benefit. The amount of students leaving Hogwarts and stressing the fuck out because of it each year is a lot, and they are ripe for the picking. I can pick them up to work for me for a pittance as long as I put it in the contract that I will pay their fees when the time comes. And they are grateful. Of course, there are opportunities to rise up and make more if they show initiative and promise. And so, I have a whole workforce capable of using wands and doing a lot of work. And man, are they working. I have gotten a significant project started, and I suspect by the time this Hogwarts year is up, it will finally be finished and ready to open for business.
Anyway, I can focus on that when it is finally built. Right now, here I am, at Kings Cross Station, about to make my way to Hogwarts. Yes, I could have used other means such as the floo or apparating, but that is boring. Plus, if Remus could go on it in the third year and sit with all the children like a sketchy pervert, then so can I. Though I suspect he was only on board because of all the Dementors that year, but even so. I haven't actually experienced the trip on the train for myself, and so this is my chance. I am not expecting anything amazing, but at least I can tick it off the list and get to know some of the people I will be teaching this year. Maybe find some prospective recruits as well.
Right now, it is around a quarter to eleven, and the train leaves in about five minutes. I am coming so late so that all of the parents will be more focused on watching their children through the windows of the train, and I can just sneak aboard without being accosted. Also, I am coming the muggle way through Kings Cross Station because going through the wall to Platform Nine and Three Quarters is part of the journey. It wouldn't be a proper trip to Hogwarts if I skipped it. However, as I watch a gaggle of redheads barging their way through the crowds, I get the feeling maybe it would have been better if I had skipped it.
I watched as Mr Weasley dashed across the platform, leading the way for his family as they all hurried to make it onto the train. And I am reminded that they also use this way and are almost always late for some reason. I know people always questioned why the Weasleys would use the train when they have a floo, but I can venture that the floo is rarely used for them. With seven kids to provide for and only Mr Weasley working, they must cut corners where they can to keep everybody fed and clothed. Or maybe not. Who knows.
I watch as they head to the wall, where all you have to do is walk through the solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. It didn't hurt, I remember from original Lockhart's memories, but it had to be done carefully so that none of the Muggles noticed you vanishing. And I decided to watch, to see what happens and if my metaknowledge is still somewhat useful. After all, the bookstore didn't go exactly as I expected it to.
"Percy first," said Mrs Weasley, looking nervously at the clock overhead, which showed they had only five minutes to disappear casually through the barrier. Percy, ever the mommy's boy, strode briskly forward and vanished. Mr Weasley went through next, and then Fred and George followed.
"I'll take Ginny, and you two come right after us," Mrs Weasley told Harry and Ron, grabbing Ginny's hand and setting off through the wall and in the blink of an eye, they were gone.
"Let's go through together. We've only got a few minutes left." Ron said to Harry. I watched from my place in the crowd of muggles as Harry made sure that Hedwig's cage was safely wedged on top of his trunk and wheeled his trolley around to face the barrier. He looked perfectly confident, probably a stark difference from how he had felt the year previous. Unluckily for him, this isn't going to go like he thinks... I wonder why there is a smile on my face.
Both of them bent low over the handles of their trolleys and walked purposefully toward the barrier, gathering speed. A few feet away from it, they broke into a run and CRASH. Both of the trolleys hit the wall and bounced backwards. Ron's trunk fell off with a loud thump while Harry was knocked off his feet, and Hedwig's cage bounced onto the shiny floor, and she rolled away, shrieking indignantly. People all around them stared, and a guard nearby yelled, "What in blazes d'you think you're doing?" I had to stifle a chuckle, finding the sight funny.
"Lost control of the trolley," Harry gasped, clutching his ribs as he got up. Yeah, you both did and ended up running into the same wall at full speed. Hah, the surrounding people are looking at them with pity, thinking they are dumb in the head. Ron ran to pick up Hedwig, who was causing such a scene that there was a lot of muttering about cruelty to animals from the surrounding crowd. I think somebody might call PETA. I quickly used a spell to help me hear from a distance so I could listen to the boys without them discovering me.
"Why can't we get through?" Harry hissed to Ron quietly.
"I dunno -" Ron looked wildly around. A dozen curious people were still watching them. That is astutely put, Ronald. You don't know, but I do.
"We are going to miss the train," Ron whispered. "I don't understand why the gateway's sealed itself -" Because a wacky elf owned by somebody that really wants your best friend dead is trying to keep him alive by endangering him in numerous different ways and isolating him. He is a funny little dude, though.
Harry looked up at the giant clock with a constipated look on his face. He watches the second hand slowly tick forward, and his face grows more worried by the second. I bet he is thinking if he misses the train, then he will have to go back to the Dursleys. Obviously, that is not the case, and Dumbledore would probably send someone to get them at some point, or they could just wait for Ron's parents. That would be the sensible thing to do. But when have twelve-year-old boys ever been sensible?
I watched as Harry wheeled his trolley forward cautiously until it was right against the barrier and pushed with all his might, trying once again in desperation. The metal remained solid. I could probably help them out here, make another good impression on the boys and get them to school without any more trouble. But where would be the fun in that? I- I mean, have to keep things as close as possible to canon. I am certainly not deriving any amusement out of this situation at all. None whatsoever.
"It's not working," said Ron, sounding stunned. "We can't get to the train. What if Mum and Dad can't get back through to us? Have you got any Muggle money?" Hmm, quite a logical conclusion from the red-headed boy. Maybe I wrote you off too soon, Ronald, but you are still a bit of an idiot. I watched as they decided on a course of action and quickly marched off through the crowd of curious Muggles, no doubt towards a certain magical car.
With them gone, I mosey on over towards the wall, and after making sure nobody is watching, I casually press my hand to the wall... it goes through.
With a grin on my face, I quickly walk through the barrier. Can't be late for the train now, can I?
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I want to talk more with you guys, so I am starting to leave little notes at the end of each chapter like this.
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