HA 12c: Neo-Dark

HIM AGAIN: Chapter 12: Moving On - Neo-Dark

Aroused at an unholy hour, Minerva descended the flights of stairs with haphazard precision, walking-stick tapping on the ground with every harried step. Loud voices, among them Filius’s high-pitched squeak, floated up to her from the Entrance Hall. As she approached the last flight of stairs the sources of the noise came into view: a group of Aurors, two speaking urgently to the Deputy Headmaster and the others prowling around, wands out and faces grim. The sight snapped the Headmistress to attention, and made the walking-stick tap faster.

Filius and the Aurors turned around as she descended towards them - one even pointed his wand at her. She shot a glare at the Auror in question and swept towards Filius.

“Really!” squeaked the miniature wizard indignantly. “I don’t see the need to be cautious against the Headmistress!”

“Higgins, put your wand down,” barked a familiar voice. Kingsley Shacklebolt shook his head despairingly and nodded an apology.

“What is going on?” she demanded, deciding preliminaries could wait. “Why have the Aurors been summoned?”

“I’m afraid we weren’t summoned; we were forced to come,” Shacklebolt said wearily. “We have reason to believe that an ex-Death Eater is on his way to Hogwarts to rendezvous with another-”

“Another? You mean to suggest that another ex-Death Eater is lurking somewhere near the school?”

“That’s what we’ve been led to believe. As you can see, we’re on full alert. Once the Chief Auror gets here-”

Minerva glanced at the prowling mass of Aurors. “Why so many? Surely two individuals can be dealt with with less than the whole of the Auror Department?”

“Forgive me, Professor McGonagall, but there’s also reason to believe that there could be more than two dark wizards involved.”

“Some sort of gathering?” she asked, with growing alarm. The thought of sitting and writing letters in her office whilst outside a gathering of darkness occurred-!

“Let’s not exaggerate the situation,” another Auror, a blonde-haired woman, said in a reedy voice. “There are probably just two, but there’s a risk of more.”

Other voices broke in and there was a collective surge of hands to wands as Tonks appeared in the Front Entrance, her own at the ready. Filius squeaked in surprise and leapt backwards, treading on an Auror’s foot - the owner of which swore and dropped his pocket Sneakoscope with a splintering crash. Minerva felt herself becoming irritated by the whole affair.

“-The problem is, he’s such a focus for Neo-Dark propaganda-”

“-Amycus’s choice of direction is certainly worrying - and the fact that he’s made it known-”

“-More than enough motivation, Brian Potter-”

“-Neo-Dark? Bloody fools, getting Dark Mark tattoos for fun-”

“-Ministry will panic if it’s more than just him; wouldn’t look good for Hawkins-”

BANG!

The cacophony was silenced; Harry Potter stood beside the large double front doors, having just slammed one shut. Minerva watched the transformation of the remembered boy and quiet young man into Chief Auror with fascination; Harry was stepping forwards, his face drawn but his look intense, giving commands and soaking in proffered information like a sponge. There was a distinct air of authority about him: the scar on his head a badge of honour and his posture tensed and powerful like a great cat’s. The Headmistress had occasionally wondered why he continued to work as an Auror; wasn’t Harry thoroughly fed up of battling dark wizards? Hadn’t the war been enough? She questioned it no longer; it was plain to her now that he lived for it, allowed his soul to come to the surface through his job.

“Professor McGonagall,” he said, nodding politely at her, expression severe. There was fire burning in those emerald eyes, a fire both hungry and fierce.

“What is going on?” squeaked Filius confusedly as the Aurors moved towards the front doors. “Who is Amycus meeting?”

“Someone who might be a focus for all the remaining dark elements, Professor,” the Chief Auror answered, marching across the Entrance Hall.

“Who?” Minerva asked.

Harry looked at her levelly. The fire roared higher, demanded sacrifice.

“Severus Snape.”