His Teacher

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His Teacher
Prologue: The Auburn Owls
A tall blond-haired teen walked down the halls, his destination the study. It was time to talk to his father. He soon reached the end of the long corridor and stopped in front of a wooden door. He took a deep breath and knocked three times.
“Who is it?” came the irritated voice of Lucius Malfoy.
“It’s me.” Draco heard footsteps. In a few moments, Lucius opened the door wearing a black cloak.
Draco immediately sensed his irritation at the interruption, but he could tell that he was very pleased about something; this puzzled him.
“Son,” Lucius started, a sinister smile on his lips, “I have some businesses that I must finish right away. Go talk to your mother.” He smiled again and promptly closed the door.

* * *

The circle of people who had been called from their missions or homes by the burning of their forearm stood silently in the round room
The man responsible for this walked to the center of the circle.
“Welcome again,” he said. He was tall and thin, with pointy facial features you noticed only when his green and red blazing eyes didn’t hold your attention anymore. “Thank you all for coming.”
A few people in the room tensed. His strangely good mood was ominous.
“I have gathered you here to enlighten you with a very pleasing announcement.” He looked around the people standing in front of him. “It is my pleasure to inform you of a new addition to our ranks…”
What could be so important?
“I now wish to acknowledge a man who has earned my highest respect. Lucius,” he began, motioning toward a cloaked figure that stood to his right, “-has finished his mission successfully. He deserves our utmost congratulations.” He stopped and looked around at the men again. “It is my pleasure to introduce you to a person that will help us all achieve our goal.” He smiled a soulless smile. Raising his hand, he motioned for a person in the back of the room. The men in the back stepped to the side to let another cloaked person walk into the center of the circle.
The person stopped in front of their leader and lowered the hood of its cloak. A few gasps were heard within the room.
In front of the Dark Lord stood a woman of about thirty-five years old. Her shoulder length black hair fell around her face freely, and as her cold black eyes scanned the occupants of the room, she laughed. Her laugh was heart-stopping.
“I introduce you to Lauren Masters…”

* * (FF) * *

Harry lay on his bed in number four, Privet Drive; he was staring at the ceiling silently with cold green eyes. He couldn’t believe it had been almost a month since the train ride back.
His thoughts were interrupted by a rapid knock on his window. He sighed and reluctantly left his bed.
When he opened the window, two auburn owls flew in carrying a large package. The owls released the package onto his bed. They did a circle over his room and flew out the window.
Harry stared at the spot where they had disappeared and slowly turned to the parcel. He sat down onto his bed and picked it up. It was heavy and bound in black wrapping paper.
He inspected it closely and found a burgundy envelope attached to it. “For Mr. Harry Potter…who could it be from?” He opened the envelope carefully and took out a neatly folded parchment of the same color. The letter was written in silver ink, the handwriting curly and neat…
He read the letter and flung it onto the floor, feeling confused, disgusted, and angry.
He ripped the package open and discovered a massive book inside.
The cover was made of black leather and there was no title. He opened the book and read the first page, his eyes widening.
“Is she sick?” he whispered. He scanned the book quickly, without paying close attention, and placed it onto the table next to his bed.
He resumed his former position on the bed, turned his gaze to the ceiling again, and sighed as one lonely tear escaped his eye and made its way down his cheek. He angrily wiped it away. He wasn’t going to cry… He remembered…

He sat looking out the window at the trees they passed.
“Hey Harry? Harry are you alright?” came the concerned voice of Hermione Granger.
“Huh? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine…”
“Harry, I understand that you are still hurt,” Hermione said gently.
Harry winced. ‘They still think they understand…’
“Yeah Harry, my mum always says that whatever happens, happens for a good reason, and-”
“RON!! How can you say that?” Thus, another famous Ron-Hermione argument began…
\'You don\'t understand, you never did...\' he thought.

Another tear rolled down his cheek, but he ignored it. He sat up in his bed, took the parchment from the floor, and re-read the letter. A smile crept up to his face, a smile that could have made Severus Snape gulp.
The decision was made.

* * (FB) * *

“Lauren, do you have everything you need?”
“…. Yes….”
“If I need something I will send you an owl.”
“Fine.”
The room was silent for a moment; none of the Death Eaters dared to make a sound.
“I wish you luck,” the Dark Lord said as he bowed to her. She did the same.
The men gasped again…Lord Voldemort bowed to no one…
Lauren swiftly Apparated from the room.
“Lucius?” Voldemort questioned, turning to look at the man.
“Master, are you sure she will finish her mission?” he asked, slightly unsure of himself.
“She never fails. You are all free to go.” He turned and walked to the back of the room, and the Death Eaters began to immediately Apparate to their homes.

* * *

A knock sounded on Harry’s window. He opened it, and a cloaked person climbed into his room. The person straightened its robes and let down its hood.
Harry looked at the person for a moment. “How can I trust you?”
“You, made the decision, Harry Potter,” came the raspy voice.
Harry turned to his packed trunk and saw that it was slowly shrinking.
“Did you pack all of your things?”
“I did,” Harry answered simply. He was still not sure about this, but something in his mind, something dark, something that was hidden in the shadows of his sanity kept whispering that he was doing the right thing…
“Good, then let’s be off.” Harry took the hand extended to him.
“Ms.-”
“It’s nothing difficult, we’ll Apparate.” Harry thought back to the day that Dumbledore told him about the spells protecting the house, but didn’t extend the thought. “And please, just call me Lauren,” the black-haired woman said as she smiled - a gesture Harry supposed was meant to be friendly.
Harry just shrugged his shoulders.
* * * * *