Dreams In Time

Chapter 15: THE DERANGED AND THE MENTALLY UNSTABLE

Minerva hurriedly turned the pages of the Hogwarts Enrollment Book. The Magical book contained the name of every magical child in this section of the globe. She could not find Draven Prince. Oh, she found those with the Prince Surname, but not Draven, which led her to believe that he was older than she originally thought. After a few more pages, she slammed the book shut. Realizing just what she did, she quickly and ashamedly apologized to the magical item. She sat at her desk, drumming her fingers while she thought. ‘How do I find out about Draven Prince?’ she asked herself. She let her eyes drift over her office as she pondered: transfiguration texts, Gryffindor Quidditch logs, Memoirs of her travels, Animagus training books, Her great-aunt Gertrude’s silver tea set, a collection of miscellaneous potions given as Christmas presents from Severus, the box that contained her secret Chocolate Frog stash, she stopped and moved her glance back to the presents from Severus. Potions. If she remembered correctly, the answer to her dilemma was there. A blood tracing potion he had given her when she mentioned that one day, she would like to know more about her relations. She smiled, a definite ‘cat that ate the canary’ grin. All she needed now was a drop of Severus Snape’s blood.

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Harry stuck close to three of the Marauders. He wanted to talk to Severus; he just wasn’t sure what he should say. Also, he was still curious about the short, round fellow, Peter, and why he was not hanging around. The others had not seemed to notice, but he had. Harry had only seen glimpses of the odd little man since he ran off. Realizing he had been wool-gathering again, he increased his pace to keep up with his companions on the way to the Great Hall for lunch.

The group separated as soon as they entered the hall. Harry went to the Slytherin table and sat in what was now considered his place. Severus was already there, tucked into his meal. One look and Harry could tell the young man was drawn in on himself. Harry got the feeling that he had done the same thing himself many times. Not wanting to make the young man any more uncomfortable, Harry silently ate his meal as quickly as he could, manners be damned. He thought he saw more than one Slytherin cringe at his eating habits. Glancing at the Gryffindor table, he saw his father and friends give him a sly ‘thumbs up’. He laughed inwardly and finished his meal. He had just crossed over the threshold of the entrance when he felt a soft touch on his sleeve. He looked down to see his mother standing there.

“Ha…Alexander, I’ve figured it out. Do you have a class now?”

Harry shook his head ‘no’. “Good,” she replied. “Come with me.” Harry, being an obedient son, followed his mother.

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In the lift, the Master waited patiently as she lifted the black mask to her face. She really hated that she had to use one (it reminded her of that ne’er do well Riddle), but she could not afford to let anyone know her true identity this early in the game. Although she knew there was no one left that could stop her, she was also aware that revealing her identity now could make things infinitely more difficult. She could feel the magic of her followers as they incapacitated those left in the building. She smiled. Things were going perfectly. Finally, the doors opened to the floor that housed the Minister’s office. A few spells later, she was sitting at the Minister’s desk. “At last,” she shouted. “At last, I will have my vengeance!”

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In the darkened halls of St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, a figure clad in footed flannel pajamas and hot pink fuzzy robe stole through the shadows. He crouched low, near the nurses’ station. They would soon begin their rounds. He waited for what seemed like an eternity, but was actually only a few minutes. The nurses began to file out. As the last one left his sight, he made his move. He went to the magical storage locker, whispered his own name and opened the small door. There, in a small container, were all his clothing and his wand. He quickly took the objects and crept to the back stairway. So far, so good. He knew it would take them another twenty-three and a half minutes to reach his ward. He dressed as quick as he could and, sliding his wand into the sleeve of his robe, left the hospital that had been his home for almost five years. He smiled as the rank air of London filled his lungs. Yes, Gilderoy Lockhart was free.

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Ron and Hermione gawped as they listened to Draco. As he spoke, Hermione moved her hand in a bit of wandless and wordless magic. From the colors surrounding the young blonde, she knew he was telling the truth. She also knew that Ron had noticed the colors and understood their meaning also. After Draco’s saga, the trio talked for hours, making plans and revising them, trying to guess who this Master was, and what he/she was after. Finally content with their strategies, the new allies departed, promising to meet in the Room of Requirement after breakfast on Saturday.

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The next morning was not any better than the day before had been, at least for Severus. He had tossed and turned all night, reliving memories of his past with Harry/Alexander. He was exhausted, bodily and emotionally. He really did not want to do anything more than stay in his rooms and drink himself to oblivion. ‘Thank Merlin it is finally Friday,’ he thought. He dressed, taking his time doing up each and every one of the tiny buttons on his shirt, waistcoat, and robe. Usually, he did those by magic, but on days like today, fastening them by hand worked wonders on comforting his discouraged heart.

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Sitting at the Head table at breakfast, Minerva had a flicker of inspiration, of sorts. Sitting before her, as usual, was the basket of muffins. There was plenty of each kind, except for the Orange-chocolate swirl-pecan. There was only one of those, and, as she had been told numerous times by the man himself, it belonged to Severus. He had a weakness for those muffins, since the end of his seventh year, actually. She suspected it had something to do with the young man he had been seeing at that time, but she wasn’t sure. She did know, however, that if she were to take it, he would reach across to take it back. That would give her the perfect opportunity to ‘prick’ him and perhaps draw the blood she needed. She smirked as she grabbed the muffin and put it on her place.

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Severus cursed under his breath as he sat down at his place and noticed his muffin was gone. He cursed the muffin, he cursed the house elves for continuing to make the damned things, he cursed whoever took HIS muffin, and he cursed the stunningly seductive young man who had gotten him hooked on the bloody things to start with. Glancing to his right and left, he noticed it sitting on Minerva’s plate. Bloody bint! She knew it was his. They had had this conversation many times now. He scowled at her as he reached across the empty seat between them and plucked the muffin off her place. The scowl turned to a furrow of pain as the old hag stabbed – stabbed – him with her fork! He dropped the muffin and looked at his hand in wonder. She drew blood! He turned to her with an equal mix of incomprehension and murder in his dark eyes. She grabbed his hand and her napkin before he could begin his tirade and carefully wiped the blood off. “Serves you right,” she sniffed haughtily. “I would have given it to you if you had only asked. Here, you can have it. I think I’ve lost my appetite.” She grabbed the muffin, dropped it on his plate, and scurried out. Severus noticed vaguely that she was apparently so offended that she still clutched the napkin in her knobby hands. He started to sigh in exasperation when he looked down and saw his muffin. ‘Well,’ he thought with a sneer of victory, ‘at least I did get my muffin back,’ and settled down to partake of his reward.

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Severus watched in a resentful calm as Alexander left the Great Hall. It wasn’t a instant later that Lily Evans left also. He felt like chasing after the chit and telling her in no uncertain terms to leave Alexander alone – that Alexander belonged to him! He could feel the jealousy bubbling inside him. He clenched his hands into fists in an effort to control his raging emotions. He should not feel this way. Not after a few days and a snogging session on the sofa – albeit a quite magnificent snogging session. Giving in to his envious nature, he tossed his napkin onto his plate and stormed out of the Great Hall.

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“Master,” the voice of one of his faithful, a middle-aged wizard by the name of Heath Eccleston, interrupted, “All floors are secure.” The Master let her lips curl upward, then threw her head back and let out a profane wail that could best be described as an evil cackle. Heath shuddered in fear and revulsion at the sound. He bowed, intending on excusing himself from the hellish woman’s presence. As he straightened, he noticed the blue eyes concentrated on his face. Trembling, he inquired, “Is there anything that you desire, Master?” The leader let her gaze travel down the length of the man, a look of torrid desire in her eyes. She saw the look of disgust and the shiver of fear pass through the man. Her followers were terrified that she would use them in the same way the Death Eaters had been used. Not that she had any desire for tupping any of her legion, well, the male part at least. She had gotten over that years ago. She had no need to relieve any of her supporters of their erroneous suppositions. Fear was a remarkable motivator, she found.

“Yes, assemble my minions in the conference room down the hall. I will speak to them now.”

“Of course, Master. They will be here momentarily.” The messenger backed out of the room, relieved that he had been spared the Master’s attentions for the moment.

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Severus had just entered the entrance hall of the castle when he saw the edge of a robe disappear around the corner. That had to be Lily. He followed stealthily behind her, leaning into the shadows and creeping in the darkness. He was right. It was the Evans girl. It was almost a pity, really. During first and second year, they had been somewhat friendly to each other – until James Potter caught her interest. Now, here she was, her interest fixed on HIS prospective lover. He skulked after them, using his natural abilities, his instinct as a Slytherin and their distraction to his advantage, concealing himself in the poorly lit passage. The pair came upon an alcove, one that had been designed for a multi-house assembly area, but had long declined from disuse and lack of interest. The over-large moldy tapestry hanging almost across from the alcove gave him the perfect position to observe Alexander and Lily without notice. He sneered to himself as he cast the perfect wordless enchantment that would let him hear every sound they uttered. Now, he would discern where he stood, and what competition he faced.

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Minerva followed the instructions very carefully. She emptied the potion into a large clear glass basin that she transfigured from one of her aunt’s tea cups. She then charmed the napkin so that the blood separated from the cloth. She directed the droplet into the mixture. She stirred the concoction four times counter-clockwise, two and seven-tenths clockwise, and in three figure eights with her wand. She then took a ten foot spool of parchment and dipped it into the basin. She took the loose end and began to roll it, slowly pulling the parchment through the potion as she formed a new roll of parchment. When she completed that step, she drew the parchment out of the potion and put it to the left of the basin. She tapped it three times with her wand, repeated the incantation with each tap, “Aperio Consanguinei.” She sat down and watched in barely contained eagerness as letters and symbols began to materialize on the document.

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The followers waited in the conference room in tense expectation. Everything had gone to plan, actually better than they anticipated. The Master swept into the room, her robes billowing around him in a way that was reminiscent to many of the Potions Master at Hogwarts. As was theirs, the Master wore robes of the deepest crimson red and a black half mask. She was not tall, but slender. She walked with the grace of confidence and knowledge. “Citizens,” she addressed the gathering, “I have just finished resetting the wards here. As of now, there is a new Minister.” She bowed her head slightly to indicate herself. “I have chosen my Deputy Minister. Percy Weasley, come forward and accept congratulations from my constituents, for you will be second in charge and answer only to me.” Percy stepped forward and bowed at the leader’s feet. He picked up the hem of her blood red robe and kissed the hem reverently. “Thank you, Master. It is the highest honor to be able to serve you.” At the incline of the Master’s head, he rose and took his place to the new Minister’s right. When Percy was settled in his position, the Minister began again,

“I have already sent word to the newspapers and magazines announcing a new regime. It is time for all to know that I will have the glory my family deserves; the recognition and fame that should have been ours, but was stolen away by,” she paused as her mouth twisted into a grimace of revulsion, “those simpletons James and Lily and their darling Boy-Who-Lived. My loyal followers – unmask and be known to each other.” One by one, the members of the Master’s order took off the black masks. Dean Thomas winked at his boyfriend, Seamus Finnegan, as he removed his mask. Percy Weasley hid the shock and worry he felt as he saw his older brother Charlie, revealed in the crowd. It took several minutes for the fifty-some-odd disciples to unmask. After the movement settled down, the Master called attention back to the front of the room. As the crowd watched, she slowly lifted her hand and removed her own mask. A collective gasp of surprise and recognition filled the air as the disguise fell away to reveal…

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Lily smiled sweetly at Harry as they settled on an old sofa in the recessed area. “Just how much do you remember?

Harry shifted in his seat, “I remember up until time to go to Hogwarts, but nothing after, other than spells and whatnot.” Lily watched her son’s eyes as he spoke. She could see – something – but she couldn’t quite make it out. “Harry, sweeting,” Lily reached out and cupped the young man’s cheek, rubbing her thumb gently over the soft skin, “you truly don’t remember anything other than that? What about friends? Professors?” she paused as she put voice to the question that she had been longing to ask since she first saw him. “Me and your dad?”

Harry turned his head away from his mother. Tears gathered in his eyes as he reflected on the few things he did know. They were dead. He wrapped his arms around himself and began rocking slightly. His actions only confirmed what Lily already knew. She and James would not live to see their precious son grow up.

Lily drew Harry to her, gave him a tight hug, and then pulled him down so that his head was settled in her lap. She began treading her fingers lightly through his hair. After a few moments, she whispered, “It’s alright, son. I know. I’ve known about it for a long time now. I just didn’t know when.”

Harry turned his head to look at her. Silent tears fell from his eyes as he saw acceptance and resignation in his mother’s vibrant green eyes. Lily gently wiped the tears from his face, leaned down, and kissed his forehead where the lightning bolt scar was hidden. She then wiped her own tears, forced a bright smile, and announced, “So, now, let’s work on your problem with Severus. How much do you know about our family line?”

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Severus smirked in the darkness. It was perfect. He would be able to see and hear everything, hopefully giving him the advantage with the young man. He leaned forward ever so slightly as Lily began to speak. He shuddered in disgust and jealousy as she called Alexander ‘sweeting’, a shudder that was stopped cold when he realized that Lily had just called Alexander by the name ‘Harry’. His mind began to reel. He struggled to stay conscious of the dialogue taking place as he slowly, soundlessly slid down to the floor. Could they be one and the same? What did Lily mean when she grouped herself with ‘his dad’? Why did she call him son? His eyes were still focused on the pair sitting on the old dilapidated sofa, jealousy pulsing through his veins as he watched them, even though he wasn’t really seeing them. His thoughts were split in too many ways; his breathing bordering on hyperventilation. All of that was pushed away, his mind suddenly brought into sharp focus when he heard Lily state, her voice wavering ever so slightly, “So, now, let’s work on your problem with Severus.”

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Minerva spread the parchment out on the table. She quickly scanned over the names, hoping ‘Draven’ would jump out at her. Apparently, it was not to be that easy. The parchment was quite long, and without knowing what time frame to look at, well, it could take hours. She took a moment to consider whether to start at the beginning or at the end. Finally making up her mind, she rolled up the end of the scroll to only the beginning would show. She sat down and began to weed through the various names. ‘Interesting,’ she thought, ‘Severus has a direct line to Merlin. No wonder he is such a strong wizard.’ She slowly worked through the lineage, unrolling one side as she rolled the other. Finally, she found it. Draven Prince, Great Seer, the High Mage of Carmarthen, and Guardian of Brynn Myrrdin, married to Aislinn, father of Vala and Keary. Aislinn was a true alchemist, and gifted in Transfiguration and Charms thaumaturgy. She traced down the chart, studying the various names and gifts of each descendent. Suddenly, she sat back with shock and disbelief, “Sweet Merlin in Avalon,” she cried.

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The now Former Minister of Magic (although he wasn’t aware of it yet), Cornelius Fudge, sat in a dark, dank corner of the constantly cold Witch’s Titty bar in Knockturn Alley. He kept the hood of his cloak pulled low over his face. He didn’t want to be recognized by any of the riff-raff that frequented this type of establishment. He eyed his mug of firewhiskey suspiciously before turning his attention back to the door. It wouldn’t do to miss the arrival of his visitor. He smiled grimly at the thought. Dumbledore was so smug. He would find a way into Hogwarts, and he knew just the man to help him. Finally, he saw long-awaited guest step through the doorway and pause to look around. Cornelius stood up and waved his hand as discreetly as he could. The man saw his wave and headed over. He sat down as a haggard looking crone came up to take his order. Cornelius quickly ordered a round of firewhiskey and sent her on her way. Looking across to the man, he jumped right in. “I’ve read every one of your books, and I know that you are just the expert I need for this job. It will be a pleasure to work with you, Mr. Lockhart.”

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After the movement settled down, the Master called attention back to the front of the room. As the crowd watched, she slowly lifted her hand and removed her own mask. A collective gasp of surprise and recognition filled the air as the disguise fell away to reveal…

Madam Poppy Pomfrey.

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Aperio Consanguinei = reveal relations.
Thaumaturgy = magic; the working of wonders or miracles.