Proditio

Disclaimer: I do not in any way, shape, or form own the rights to Harry Potter. That undoubtable honor goes to the mother of that wonderful creation, JK Rowling. She is a goddess of the literary arts and should be acknowledged. So, please, for the love of all that is holy, please do not sue me! After all, plagiarism is one of the most sincere forms of flattery. *bows and runs off stage*

Warnings: This is a very OOC fic, especially with Harry and Dumbledore, and is pro-Dark Lord. This fic contains slash! If you don\'t like male/male relationships, here\'s a hint: DON\'T READ IT! The flames will keep me nice and toasty warm, because, after all, I live in Alaska. We need all the heat we can get.

Thanks to my beta, Emmy.

Sorry I was so late with this chapter! I was having some troubles at work lately so it got kinda hard to do anything for entertainment. *sigh* The life of a graphic artist is tough. *grins* Well anyways, besides for that I have rewriten this chapter eight times. I had a major case of writer\'s block. *sigh* On with the show!


Proditio
Chapter Eleven


~*Within The Mindscape*~

He was in another Death Eater raid -- third one in the passing of a fortnight. Diagon Alley -- a place that had held enchantment and the delights of childhood for one with very miserable youth -- being torn down by someone who believed He was doing or tor the good of His host. Fire rained down from once cheerfully painted rooftops as ghouls of all sorts lept throughout the mob mentality of the crowds of victimized witches and wizards. At His side was a satisfied Tom Riddle, leaning against a solid brick wall, encompassed by shadows, the reflected light of the flames dancing in his crimson eyes, like so many demons straight from the abyssmal depths of Dante\'s deepest hell.

Shivering in his barren landscape of ice, threadbare slave\'s tunic the only cover as he drew his painfully thin knees to starved chest, exposed skin frozen blue and black as blood seeped from his chapped lips, only to freeze in the Draconian wind as a viscous black-red sheen across sickly blue. Teeth chattered as he buried himself even deeper into the snow and ice, praying for sleep to come and take him away from the ravages that was his body -- to some place warm.

\"You could heat up the space around you if the ice truly bothers you that much.\" Came the voice that personified the hard icy wind and the barrenness of the landscape. The voice was cruel, mocking even, but with an undertone of condesending affection, like a disappointed father of a two year old, slapping the hand caught in the cookie jar.

A whirlwind sprouted before the figure huddled in the snow, kicking up the brutal winds just a notch. A leather clad foot peeked out of the swirling winds, only for the whole mass to shutter and collapse in a brilliant wash of white. Walking forward, body wrapped in the finest fur coat, over black wool slacks and silver cashmere tunic, a rust red scarf twined around his neck, was Him. He was looking as cold and cruel as ever, but with the look of pity and, strangely, dispair, that He always carried. He seemed to be satisfied tonight though, a strange feeling for one who never felt more than mocking affection, overpowering rage if given the proper motivation, and love, of all things.

\"Ah, but you forget, Lupus, this is the atonement for my sins. For the deaths I have caused. Yes, i could be warm, but what would be the point?\" Rasping and harsh, his voice was barely a whisper, as he fought to stay awake, against the urgings of his body to just sleep, to make it all drift away in an unconscious haze.

Lupus cocked his head to the side, kneeling before the huddled figure, looking at him with a flicker of rather innocent curiousity appearing in His mismatched eyes -- one ice blue and one vibrant green. A lock of blood red hair came free from His braid, dancing across Lupus\'s features as the wind continued to whip around them.

\"You know if you continue to act in this fashion, your soul may fade?\" Lupus said, lifting his head to stare intently into the emerald green orbs that glared at him from over bony, blue skinned knees. \"Harry, you really must stop this. I must insist. I might be a separate soul, but I am still of fragment of you, therefore making my existance rather difficult if you fade.\"

Harry managed to look slightly contrite, before allowing the ice and snow to fall back as a cozy bungalow appeared around them, the howling storm outside protesting at the loss of its captive.

Sighing inwardly, Lupus swept a hand through his bangs and frowned at the emaciated form curled up in a stiff backed mahogany chair, haunted eyes watching the fire before them with undisguised curiousity. He was child-like in appearance, even more so than Lupus himself. Who would ever think that this soul was the genius behind most of Lupus\'s most insidious curses. Harry might be a naive and pliant individual, but his imagination was anything but.

And, of course, as soon as I leave him alone in here, the house will fade and he\'ll be sitting in a cloud of self-pity out in the snow again. Damn our weaker half.

\"Have you yet noticed Draco\'s advances, or are you still sleeping with Tom?\" Harry said in a dead tone, his eyes locked on the fire that was the only source of light in the dim room. He never spoke with much life anymore, especially after the death of the mutt. Lupus rolled his eyes in annoyance an ever forgiving tolerance and just shrugged the question off.

Of course he had noticed Draco\'s advances. How could he not? But the former aristocrat still had things to learn before he could be rewarded, or however would the boy learn of his potential? Lupus just sank into the overstuffed couch, relaxing for once in his own mind, tearing his thoughts away from a certain blond Slytherin.

\"I need a mark to give followers.\" Lupus said abruptly, giving the reason he had come here in the first place. Lupus might be the elegant sophisticated soul, but it was Harry -- naive little Harry -- who was the imagination behind it all.

Snorting lightly, eyes still dead, Harry lifted a wand that resembled his first wand, and in flaming lines, created two symbols floating in mid air, filled with a foreign beauty. \"Kanji. Its simple, elegant, and the symbols mean ghost in the Japanese tongue. Besides, many people have kanji tattoos, so it is hard to catch. Try marking your followers on differing locations of the body, not all in the same place, but put them in easy to conceal places, like lower shoulder blade, where it will always be covered by even a short sleeved shirt.\"

Lupus nodded slightly at this, and quickly memorized the lines before they faded away.\"Thank you, my dear. Now if you\'ll excuse me,\" He said, twirling out of his chair and into a whirlwind of fur and wind, \"I have evil plots to make, and people to kill.\"

And without anothoundound, Lupus disappeared, leaving Harry to stare into the fire, rage against the world flickering behind dead eyes as he prayed for the collapse of the world that had betrayed him.

~*End Mindscape*~

*+*+*+*+*

\"Sixth years! This is NEWT level potions. Now as I only accept those individuals who bothered to study and gain an Outstanding on their Potions OWL, I expect quality work and diligence in your studies. The potions we will be making are dangerous to brew, and as this danger cannot be taken lightly, I will not hesitate to kick out those incompetent fools who dare to not take my warnings to heart.\" At this Snape glared at the few remaining students not from Slytherin, whom made up the majority of the class, closely followed by Ravenclaw students in quantity. \"By now you should know all the basics of brewing complex potions, so it goes with out saying, if I find your potions anything less than satisfactory,\" At this the glare turned solely on Ron Weasley, who joined the class because of his wish to be an auror, \"you will find yourself on a one way ticket out of my class.\"

Lupus, rolled his eyes at the frantic look in Weasley\'s eyes, the terror that he would be kicked out and would never become an Auror without his potions NEWT. Shaking his head, Lupus turned back to Draco, who was silently reading the recipe off the board to himself, mindlessly sorting through his personal supplies. Over the summer, Lupus had discovered that Draco had been Snape\'s favorite student for a very good reason. Simply, Draco was absolutely brilliant with potions, and had plans to gain his Mastery once he had left Hogwarts.

Of course, with the Time Room that Draco and Lupus had created, they had already studied the upper level potions they would be brewing this year, leaving time for them to experiment on their pros wis within Snape\'s class, as Draco already had permission to do so.

Leaning toward Draco, Lupus whispered in his ear, \"The naive one finally came up with a design. I\'ll mark you tonight.\" Draco shivered slightly in excitement and nodded, starting his cauldron, even as Snape was just beginning the true lesson. Lupus watched at Draco plied his graceful art, knife flashing as it cut down on a red fleshed root, creating paper thin slices. It was always enjoyable to watch Draco brew, as the blonde\'s eyes would get sharp and intent, his hands would almost dance across any ingredient as it was prepared. It was an art to him, not a science as it was to Lupus, who could brew potions as exactly as Draco, but finding them lacking the pure power of his partner\'s own.

\"Sounds fine, but for right now, please hand me the asphodel.\"

**Snape\'s POV**

Disgusting children, never appreciating the beauty of a steaming cauldron. I have no idea why I even try to teach these utter fools something they will never fully understand. Except for a select few, of course. My eyes flicker over to Draco, his eyes gleaming as he brews a concoction that is not on the board. He already far surpassed what these fools could accomplish, and he is one of the few delights I have in this tiresome existance.

I look over to his partner, the new student. I have no real estimation of his abilities, besides for the fact that he got an outstanding on his potions OWL. Watching him carefully, I see that he is meticulous and careful. I watch with faint interest as his brew is created, frowning slightly. He is good at this, from what I can tell, a pure analytical mind to be sure, but he treats the potion as a work of science, and not as a masterpiece to shaped slowly. I sigh softly in disappointment, but praise whatever gods watch over this torrid earth that he seems to be competant enough to be enjoyable to teach.

Mr. Umbra is a rather interesting enigma though. He seems to be familiar, but at the same time, a foreign creature, ethereal and secretive. Quite the mystery to be sure. His eyes are old in a waif-like face, intense and cold. They make shivers ripple down even my spine, and I was a Death Eater! He is deadly, to be sure. The way he moves with such a boneless and effortless grace is evidence of that, as he moves much like I do.

His eyes meet mine for a second, and I start for a second. The pure malice of his gaze is intimidating, and this is but a child! The weight of his stare is like that of the Dark Lord\'s. It breaks me down, makes me want to crumble in his presence.

I take a deep calming breath.

What is this creature? He strikes terror in me with a single glance, the power in his eyes just wreathing under the surface, waiting to lash out, collared back with the shear force of his will. The eyes remove themselves from my form, turning to his partner, whispering something in Draco\'s ear. I hear a low chuckle coming from my young pupil, as they continue on their potions.

Sighing with relief, I take a look at the rest of my class. My gaze lands on Weasley, the worst of the Weasley zoo, in my oon. on. Not only is he part of that damned Golden Trio, but he is an abhorant brewer. I have no idea why the hell he is in my NEWT level class, but from what I can see, he might not be in here much longer. Small blessing, that.

Ah, and Miss Granger, the bloody Know-It-All. If she would get her head out of her ass, she would probably make a decent Potions Mistress, but her Gryffindor foolhardiness, and her anal retentive studious habits quite override any good qualitthe the foolish girl might have. One day the girl might learn that one cannot simply learn life out of a book. For right now, she is heading toward social ineptitude.

But where is Potter? Perfect Potter, who by the grace of his fame, managed to scrape together an outstanding OWL, seems to have, once again, disregarded the intruction of those wiser and more powerful than he, and had skipped out on his protections. Bloody Gryffindor. Good riddance if he gets himself buggered up the ass by the Death Eaters before Voldemort puts his head on a pike. Maybe now that he\'s gone, the Old Coot upstairs might get the stick out his ass and might actually come up with some plans for the Adults to work with. Whomever thought a bloody child would save the day, especially Potter, would be sadly mistaken.
rtinrting, I turn my attention back on Mr. Umbra. He is definately a quandary that I wish to solve. Quite the mystery, that one is. Yes...

**End Snape\'s POV**

\"Professor Snape is watching you again, Ghost. Are you sure he hasn\'t seen you at the Dark Lord\'s side?\" Draco said with a touch of apprehension in his voice. \"I mean, your plans will be ruined if he has --\"

\"Calm yourself, Kyre. The best way to draw attention to yourself is to try and act like you are not.\" Lupus calmly continued to stir his potion, dusting the concoction with powdered unicorn horn. He could feel the ice in him burning to be let out, to reek havoc upon the students in the class, but continued on, as unruffled as ever. \"Be patient. Revenge is a dish best served cold, to quote the old saying. Our dish will be freezing.\"

A/N: A bit short I know. And Again, I am so sorry for taking so long to get this out to you all. Up here in Alaska we are snowed in again, so with that and lemon drops (Hey, Dumbledore had one good idea!) this chapter finally gets out to you. The next chapter will hopefully be soon, sooner than this one we hope. Anyways -- please please please, make an attempt to review! It makes me happy and more willing to write longer chappies! Mata ne!

ART CONTEST! I\'m looking for an excellent rendering of the character we all know and love, Lupus Umbra. Well actually, I\'m looking for cover artwork as well. But I can\'t draw worth shit. So I leave it up to you, my faithful readers, a contest. I will of course be judging, and chosing two pieces: one of Lupus Umbra and one cover art. The winner gets a character as one of the Ghost Lord\'s servants, and their artwork on the Yahoo! group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/proditio/ and my personal webpage that be be up and running in a couple of weeks. May the best artist win! *bows and leaves the hall*

lupusdragon You have any idea how powerful phoenix tears must be if they will bring you back even if you are close to death? I think in the wand it acts as a power boost, especially with healing spells, and the deadly aspect to the wand balences that out to make a brutal killing wand. Because, after all, the person that has the greatest hand in who lives or dies is always the healer. Oh and I am giving out the Lupus plushy dolls, complete with evil overlord kit, custom wand, and clothing trunk. Want one to cuddle? *holds out plushy doll*

LINIS Lupus and Draco practice a bit of discretion. They speak quietly, and on the first day of school, who is going to be in the library besides for Hermione and a few Ravenclaws?

To all the review peoples *blushes* Thank you all for your lovely praise of me. You have no idea now much it is all appreciated!