Dark Coil

Dark Coil

Chapter One: The Arrival

The scarlet engine belched gray clouds of steam over the platform outside Hogsmeade Station, filling the late summer air with the smell of scorched coal. Only a handful of passengers exited the line of cars stretching out behind the Express. Few people in Britain had business in Hogsmeade, the only true wizarding village on the island. Fewer still were those who took the last train from London each day for the ride into the hilly countryside.

Dressed in Muggle jeans and tee-shirt, Olivia McGonagall stood out among the other witches and wizards exiting the train as she pushed a cart loaded down with trunks and carpet bags towards the main exit. After living for many years in the Muggle world as a diplomatic attorney from the Ministry of Magic, Olivia simply found the swirling robes and wide hats favored by most of the magical community to be cumbersome; and anyway, the long hems were forever making her trip! With brown hair escaping from the bright red chopstick with its jaunty black tassel she had skewered through the knot at the back of her head and her wide sunglasses reflecting the late afternoon sun, Olivia resembled a young coed heading off to university.

Olivia steered her cart through the rapidly emptying station house and out to the main street of Hogsmeade. She gazed up and down the quaint road, then pushed her glasses up over her brow, perching them on top of her head. The young woman had seldom been to Hogsmeade when she was growing up in the home of Minerva McGonagall. Rarer still were the visits to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Minerva had wanted it that way. "Conflict of interest, my dear," she would say each time Olivia had begged to attend the school. Raising a hand to shade eyes of emerald green, Olivia allowed her gaze to pass over the shops and offices lining the cobbled street. Surely Minerva had arranged some form of transportation, someone to meet her and take her to Hogwarts? Leaning out from the curb, Olivia peered up the road, but saw no one who looked as if they were late in meeting a train. Several Hogwarts students, recognizable by their robes, lounged outside a pub. They were sipping from foaming mugs and laughing. Past the merry group, Olivia could make out the shape of a very large person strolling easily toward town, a pink umbrella opened to shade him from the glare of the setting sun. Her mis-matched earrings brushed her jaw as she turned her head to inspect the road in the opposite direction. It was the same story. There were few people out. They were making their way home to family and food. A few of the shops were closing down for the day. A post office was across the way and Olivia was just about to step across and inquire about hiring transportation when a tall, slender figure shrouded in black stepped from the post office entrance. He was engaged in reading a roll of parchment and did not look up as Olivia checked her step and quickly backed into the shadowy doorway of the station.

"No way, that’s him!" Olivia told herself before peeking around the scarred wooden doorframe. The tall man was still reading from his parchment, his entire form slightly blurred by the evening shadow cast by the building behind him. If it were the same bloke, she mused, life has not been kind. The thin face was sallow, cheek bones standing out sharply, the nose was long and hooked, an eagle’s beak, giving the man a predatory air, black hair hanging to his jaw. Surely, he looked a bit like the man the Ministry of Magic had dragged from the courtroom seventeen years ago after she and a team of young barristers failed to convince a jury of his innocence, but she couldn’t be positive.

Olivia jerked her head back into the station and rested her body against the cool plaster wall. If only she could get closer. Look into his eyes. Perhaps hear his voice. Only then could she be sure.

Olivia would never forget the shards of pure venom shooting from eyes of deepest black, nor would she ever tune from her ears the velvet acid of his voice, poured over the cringing group of young, inexperienced attorneys as he was pulled from the courtroom, "You fools! Not a single brain cell in the lot of you! YOU have condemned me to HELL!"

Do something, you twit! Olivia chided herself. Standing here, held hostage by a memory. You can do this. Just step on out there and stick out your hand. "Hello, could you possibly be the same poor bastard I sent to Azkaban seventeen years ago?" She snorted at her poor attempt at humor.

She continued to stand in anxious confusion, her mind skating over possibilities. She could step out onto the curb and take her chances that the dark figure and the condemned man were not one and the same. Even if he was, what were the chances he would recognize her? After all, she had not had that much contact with the prisoner. She had never taken part in the sloppy interviews that had passed as evidence gathering, never struck out and beat the bushes for information. She had only appeared in court on two occasions: The first to sit burning in shame as their spokesman presented their pathetic arguments in defense of the accused; the last was to hear the judge pass sentence on the condemned man. Life in Azkaban Prison. Her stomach twisted at the memory, just as it had done on that hateful, terrible day when the judge had read the verdict and passed sentence. Convinced as they all were of his guilt, not one of the court appointed team had given their best in trying to see justice done. Instead, they had simply gone through the motions, done just enough to present the thinnest appearance of a defense. No one had expected or wanted the accused to walk free, not after hearing of his terrible crimes. In league with the most horrible monster the world had yet to vomit up, Voldemort! Murder! Using the Dark Arts! Creating Potions to steal the will of others! At the time, the evidence against him was overwhelming. He wore the Dark Mark on his arm, for crying out loud! What more did the jury need? And so, it seemed, justice had been served. But Olivia had been unable to stop the silent tears as she stood with the other members of the defense team when their client was lead from the courtroom. She had kept her eyes glued to his raging face, choking on her own guilt. She knew what awaited him in the basement of the courthouse. Dementors had arrived early in the day, eager to collect their prey. Even believing in his crimes, Olivia could not wish this punishment on anyone.

Her anguish had returned in full force when, eight months later, she discovered her client had been released from that hell of an island. The Ministry was close-mouthed about the situation, but Olivia heard it rumored that Albus Dumbledore was somehow involved. It didn’t take long for The Daily Prophet to ferret out the fact that Voldemort’s right hand man was now free. They could only postulate that the attorneys for the defense had mucked it up. There was speculation concerning the way the case was handled that sloppy work had resulted in freedom for a murderer. The young team of barristers had been hounded for weeks afterwards. The editor of the Daily Prophet had even screamed for their disbarment, an event that almost became a reality. Many of the young barristers left the field for work in other areas. Some left the country. Olivia had been one of these reluctant immigrants. Minerva had been a support, of course, but it seemed the entire world wanted to hang her up by her knickers. Olivia didn’t think she would ever survive the shame of those long ago days.

So, Olivia had traveled to America. She had returned to school and received her doctorate in Wizard/Muggle Law. She worked hard to put her failure and shame of the past behind her. Through diligence, hardheaded perseverance, and unerring honesty, Olivia had established a name for herself as a hard hitting, thorough defense attorney. The Ministry had noticed her hard work and she was given a position defending witches and wizards who ran afoul of Muggle law. For many years, Olivia traveled the world working to keep the peace between the magical and non-magical worlds.