The First Chess Match: Birth of the Death Eaters

"Chapter Three: Important Information"

One hundred and sixty-two year old Professor Steelbate was Potions Master, Head of the Slytherin House, and the resident curmudgeon of the Hogwarts faculty. He was a sour man, who was never cruel, but always grumpy and impatient with his students. He was always especially impatient on Thursday mornings, when the fifth year Slytherins and Gryffindors shared double Potions in his dungeon classroom.

"Silencio! Silencie-bloody-oh!" he said, without the threat of a wand, to the jabbering students as he drudged in, slightly late, to begin class. They soon fell quiet and faced the teacher's desk, ready to begin the day's lessons. "Alright, now that the barbarians have ceased their stirring, we can begin. Today is..."

James said swiftly under his breath, "Thursday." He and Sirius were seated in the front row, but Steelbate was too deaf to hear either of the boy's quips.

"...the day that I collect your essays on the Strengthening Solution. Please come up to the front and place them on my desk."

"Because I'm too old and lazy to even 'Accio!' them," whispered Sirius.

James replied, "He probably assigned them to us just because he needs it and is too senile to remember how to make it himself."

"Leave Professor Steelbate alone, Potter." said Lily Evans as she returned to her place at the table beside the one at which the boys were seated.

"What? It's not just me--Sirius is taunting the old turd as well."

Lily just rolled her eyes and bit her lip. It had only been recently that the boys had switched from sitting at the table behind Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew to sitting at the one in front of their friends. Lily wasn't positive, but she imagined that the move had something to do with the fact that Christabel Watling sat at the table next to the one where the boys used to sit. She and Sirius had been going out for much of fifth year, and had broken up in March. Still, Christabel and Sirius were on good terms, which left no reason for James and Sirius' sudden switch, except for the enjoyment they got from teasing her and Dorcas.

Professor Steelbate continued talking. "Furthermore, we will be preparing the Strengthening Solution today in class. Supplies are in the closet to your left and you have until the end of the period to submit your results to me. Hopefully, they won't be too disappointing."

Lily's had shot straight into the hair. "Yes, Miss Evans?" Steelbate asked with a mixture of boredom and contempt in his voice.

"Um, Professor, sir, you've forgotten to record either the ingredients list or the directions for the potion on the board."

Steelbate turned around to inspect the empty chalkboard behind his desk, then replied, "Indeed, I have not, Miss Evans."

"I don't understand sir. How are we supposed to complete the potion without your instructions?"

"That's the point, Evans." Severus Snape said sharply out of nowhere. "We handed in an essay today. That essay listed the ingredients and instructions for the potion. If we completed the assignment correctly, this should serve no difficulty."

Many of the Slytherins chuckled. The professor thanked Snape for clarifying the situation, and told the rest of the students to begin. Lily blushed and turned to her task, being comforted by Dorcas. Neither girl noticed, but James Potter was shooting a glare towards Snape's way that could have melted ice. Sirius clasped his hand on James' shoulder and whispered in his ear, "Don't worry, Prongs. One of these days the slimy git will get his."

"Wish that day was today."

"Don't we all?" Sirius smiled at his friend. He and James were closer than brothers. They shared a mental and emotional bond that could never be severed, come hell or hundreds of detentions. Despite this, Sirius couldn't wrap his head around the "Lily Evans thing," as he had come to call it. For some strange reason, James was head over Quidditch boots in love with the prefect princess. True, Lily was very pretty--extraordinarily beautiful, perhaps--but personality wise, it seemed an odd match to even James' best friend. Nevertheless, Sirius accepted his friend's violent crush with nothing but support and feigned understanding. After all, that's what friends were for: to accept bizarre infatuations and to get into as much trouble together as possible. Which reminded Sirius...

"So, James, what about tonight? Are you listening, Remus? Peter?

Meanwhile, across the aisle, Lyra was in the process of poorly attempting to make a potion under the disdainful glances of Severus Snape. She had never thought it possible, but she felt slightly sorry for her scholastic rival, Lily Evans. She was sure she could have easily had made the same mistake, and wasn't sure Evans deserved so much embarrassment. Somehow, almost reading her mind, Snape seemed to realize something along those lines was troubling her. "What? Do you think I was too hard on Evans?" he asked.

Lyra shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Lily Evans is no friend of mine."

"Didn't think so," he said with a satisfied smile and an odd glint in his dark eyes.

She looked up at him. "What do you mean by that?"

He replied, "It's no secret that you and Bellatrix Black view Evans, and her friend, Meadowes, as competition, adversaries."

"The entire year is a competitive one. There are many talented students in all the houses, and multiple rivalries." She smiled, before adding, "Take you and Potter, for example." The war, both in the classroom and at the edges of wands, was well known to all at Hogwarts. Perhaps no two students disliked each other so much as Severus Snape and James Potter. Unless, of course, you considered the animosity between Snape and Sirius Black.

Lyra's comment seemed to set all the repressed aggression in Snape's being out at once. He began to fume and list everything about Potter he disliked. "He's such a hateful, arrogant wanker. Thinks he's God's gift to Quidditch, and everyone worships him for it, including Dumbledore, and--"

"Do I add the Salamander Blood now?" she asked suddenly, to distract him from his annoying and unhelpful tirade.

"Yes," he answered suddenly, to give the answer. He then caught himself. "No, I'm not going to tell you. You have to figure it out for yourself."

Lyra smiled. "You already told me."

She was surprised to see Snape chuckle in response. Perhaps she had always been mistaken about the boy, and he did in fact have some sort of a sense of humor. He said, "Really, Covington--"

"No, call me Lyra."

Snape almost half blushed before addressing her again. It was true that the boy wasn't on a first name basis with too many people, let alone girls. "Lyra, if you really want help with Potions, you can't expect me to peek over your shoulder and whisper everything in your ear. I would be a know-it-all then, just showing off, and you would learn nothing."

"But Severus, you are a know-it-all, and really, what are the chances that I'll ever learn anything in Potions?"

He cleared his throat before saying, "Oh please, you're not Peter Pettigrew."

"Hey, Peter Pettigrew is supposed to actually be a decent Potions student."

Snape squinted his eyes in sarcastic disbelief. "You know what I'm saying though."

"Oh, sure," Lyra replied. "Only promise me you'll say something if you notice me doing anything that will cause my cauldron to explode."

"It's a promise. What do you think of..." But Snape didn't finish. His attention was diverted elsewhere, to where Potter and his friends were sitting. Lyra turned around to see what was happening. The four boys were engrossed in whispered discussion, clearly planning something they'd rather no one overhear.

Lyra asked Snape, "What do you suppose?"

"Shh! Maybe we can hear what they're saying. Turn around, don't let them catch you listening to them."

Lyra strained to listen as she bent her head directly over her cauldron, in the most inconspicuous pose she could imagine. Snape did the same. Even though she was a Slytherin, she hadn't done too much eavesdropping...at least on Gryffindor conversations. She felt mischievous and rebellious. This was fun, and she couldn't believe she was doing it with Snape of all people, and not Bellatrix.

Sirius' voice was the loudest, "So, we leave the dormitories at eleven tonight?"

"I don't think so," replied a voice that resembled that of Remus Lupin. "There might still be some students in the common room."

"Yeah, but if we're under the Invisibility--"

"Shush, Peter! Someone might hear," said James.

Sirius replied, "Since when have you been one to act carefully?"

James didn't seem to answer, or if he did, Lyra didn't hear. Remus said, "I think midnight's the best time."

"Agreed," said James.

Sirius moaned. "But, Prongs," Prongs? Lyra blinked. She had always thought his name was James. "That's too late to start."

Before either Lyra or Snape could hear a reply, a huge sizzling noise came from the back of the classroom, accompanied by the screeches of some Gryffindor girls.

"Professor Steelbate! Come quickly! Meena Gupta's cauldron won't stop bubbling over!" Charlie Townsend, a Gryffindor boy who sat near Meena, called. Professor Steelbate came rushing in from his office.

"What did you do girl? You added pomegranate juice?" he growled.

Christabel, who had been sitting next to her, replied, "No, but she might have put in some frogs legs."

Steelbate only shook his head and laughed. "One point from Gryffindor."

"But, Professor!"

"Quiet, Mr. Townsend. Miss Gupta's silly mistake was quite adorable, but also quite messy. How about a point for whomever cleans it up?"

James Potter nearly jumped over Remus and Peter's table to cast his cleaning charm. Steelbate smiled, and gave the point back to Gryffindor. While the Gryffindors were thanking James, Snape cursed his false heroism under his breath. To his right, Evan Rosier piped up and expressed the discontent of the Slytherins. "Professor, how could you let the Gryffindors get off like that? Especially since you had already docked them for their failure?"

Steelbate replied, "You could have cleaned it up, Mr. Rosier. Then Slytherin House would be two more points above Gryffindor than they already were. Besides, what's the big deal?"

"But the House Cup!"

"Sorry to disappoint you, boy, but I've been teaching for over a hundred years now, and after a few decades, the whole House Cup thing becomes passe. Besides," he added quietly, "we all know Slytherin is the best. Who needs a silly cup to prove that?"

******************

Professor Dumbledore had read the letter over five times, and still felt a chill when he considered its contents. Aurelia Covington had written it the night before and left it in his office that morning before she had departed for her mission. He read over it once more, hoping yet again that he could suppress the feeling of dread that rose with him with each reading.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

Because I trust you above all wizards--save only my dear husband--I am leaving you this letter to inform you of my mission for the Ministry. I expect that you will keep strict secrecy about the topic, and will provide whatever guidance you can. According to Stern, the Ministry of Magic has recently received information from an undisclosed source that finally names the Dark Lord, as well as the wizard believed to be one of his top supporters. It is my mission to travel to the muggle city of Salisbury, where the supporter, one Charles Stonebridge, is said to have secretly set up house. I must track Stonebridge and procure what information I can about the Dark Lord, known as "Lord Voldemort." It seems simple enough, but I am haunted by the words of "Mad-Eye" Moody, who during my training warned me that if a set-up seems too simple, it's probably a trap. I'm not so worried about it being a trap; I can handle that. What I can't handle is flying so damned blind into this mess. The Ministry truly knows nothing. If the rumors that this Voldemort has recalled the Knights of Walpurgis, are true, or if this Lord really even poses a threat.

I ask you this, not only as an employer and scholar, but as a friend: please send me all information you have on this Lord Voldemort, and Stonebridge. I would greatly appreciate even the smallest insight or hunch you can give me. To keep our correspondence as secret as possible, send my hawk, Robespierre, with the message, instead of an owl. Orion will have the key to his cage. I gave them to him since he always loved the bird so much. He has no clue I used Robespierre to relay messages during my Auror days, nor that I still rely on his services in situations such as this. Do not tell him why you need the keys. He will trust you and your intentions. Plus, if he can't figure out for himself that Robespierre is being used in such a manner, he doesn't deserve to know. Please send me the post as soon as possible. You can trust Robespierre to get it to me securely.

Yours sincerely,

Aurelia Claire Covington

p.s. please burn this letter after you have finished reading it--for security purposes

Dumbledore swallowed, and folded the parchment over. He knew that he would fulfill every request of his employee. Not only did he respect her, but he was also aware that the situation was perhaps even more dire than she already had appraised it to be. Immediately, he took up his quill and began to write everything he could remember about Charles Stonebridge and anything he could possibly contrive from the name, Lord Voldemort. Unfortunately, he was fairly sure he could help Aurelia more than she could guess.

************************

Following the four-hour Potions study session later that night, Lyra had once again changed her mind about Snape. She now believed he was a sadistic taskmaster, and swore to herself that the next time he curled his lip sneering at one of her mistakes she would almost certainly transfigure him into a gerbil, or something else equally as humiliating as the manner in which he had treated her. Truthfully, she knew that she had brought this all upon herself, and was actually thankful for his tutoring. In those four hours alone, as grueling as they might have been, she had caught up on what seemed like two years worth of work. More over, she felt as though she could both retain and comprehend what had been taught. The bad news was Lyra was now so exhausted she felt ready to collapse at any minute. It was still early, so Lyra figured she might as well go up to the dormitory and try to catch a nap before Genevieve and Bellatrix came up to gossip and giggle before getting to bed. She had just lain down upon her bed when she heard the door creak open and a soft girl's voice address her. "Lyra, are you awake?"

She rolled over to see Genevieve standing in the doorway, looking uncharacteristically worried. Lyra answered, "Yeah, what's wrong?"

Genevieve took this as an invitation to close the door and come in, sitting on the bed across from Lyra. She said, "I wanted to talk to you about earlier today at breakfast, about Bella in particular."

"Look, can we just forget it happened? I didn't really mean what I said. I'm sorry if I offended Bella or anyone else at the table. It's just that I've had a long, tough day and I don't want to revisit how I spoke so rashly to her."

"Don't feel bad about what you said," Genevieve said sympathetically. "True, you let your emotions get the best of you and you completely forgot tact, but everyone's entitled to their own opinion. I understand and respect what you said, especially considering your family background. Your family is well off and well liked; you have no reason to question or dislike the way the world is. Your Mum is also an Auror, which makes it hard for you to sympathize with anyone the Ministry of Magic brands as a threat or rabble-rouser, which is what You-Know-Who is. But it's harder for Bella and her family to not be interested in what he has to say. Let's face it, the Blacks are an old family, but they've lost much of the little popularity they once held. They hold on to the 'old politics'."

"Old politics" were a set of political and moral ideals held by many pureblood families in the modern wizarding world. Basically, they believed that all wizards should be pureblood, and not half, and certainly not muggleborn. In order to accomplish this, many, including the mysterious Dark Lord, wished to restrict wizard training to those deemed worthy and eliminate those who were already in society through various means, the most radical being genocide. It wasn't a pleasant idea, but there was some historical rationale, as dated as it was, to back this theory up. During the Spanish Inquisition, for example, muggleborn wizards often turned pureblood wizards into the church for execution in exchange for bribes, family security and the hope that once certain wizards and witches were eliminated, they could achieve power in the wizarding community. But these were isolated incidents in times of political upheaval long ago. Still, families such as the Blacks, Lestranges, and Malfoys held true to these beliefs.

"You know about Narcissa's wedding this summer, right?" Genevieve asked Lyra. She nodded. She knew everything about Narcissa Black's upcoming nuptials to Lucius Malfoy. Bellatrix had been talking about her older sister's wedding now for seven months, and the girls knew everything about the ceremony from the color of the bridesmaids' dresses to the ingredients in the cake. Genevieve leaned in ready to share with Lyra some new juicy bit of gossip that Bella hadn't chose to share with her friends. "Well, Andromeda, Bella's oldest sister, hasn't merited an invitation."

"Why?"

Genevieve shrugged. "She married a muggleborn. Since then, the family's disowned her. Narcissa, on the other hand, is practically being worshipped by their mum and dad. The Malfoy wedding is a huge social coup for the family. Narcissa is performing her role in the family to perfection. So, given all that, and the fact that Bella's mad about her dad, which way do you think she's going to lean? For Daddy and the Dark Lord? Or for the mudbloods?"

"I never knew."

"It's not about knowing, Lyra, but understanding. Politics is not about what people say they believe as much as it is about figuring out what they desire and why..."

Lyra then said, as a true Slytherin, "...and then twisting that around for your own ends."

"Does that help?" Genevieve asked, in reference to the information about Bellatrix. "I mean there's more to it, of course."

"Like what, for example?"

She smiled bashfully, as if not certain she could give the complexity of the matter its full justice. "Well, there's Bella's dreaded cousin, Sirius Black, you know. He's the family heir--and their worst nightmare. He's a complete rebel who will never cave in to what the rest of the family wants. He'll never live up to his duty as a Black."

"What about Regulus?" Lyra asked. Regulus Black was Sirius' fourteen year old younger brother, who was also a third year in Slytherin.

Genevieve replied, "I know he's still young, but do you honestly believe he'll ever be strong enough to wrangle Bella or the new family son, Lucius Malfoy. No, Regulus doesn't have the smarts or the passion to take control and keep it, which is what the family is dying for right now."

"Wow...so Bella's family's screwed."

"Thus ends the Noble and Ancient House of Black," Genevieve said, "at least thus ends any power or prestige the name once held."

Lyra shook her head. "That's terrible. I feel so sorry for Bella."

"I wouldn't feel too bad for Bella, if I were you. It's not like she can't handle herself in a trying situation."

"Huh?"

"I mean, she does have all this to contend with, but let's face it. She can also be quite the hateful bitch, if you know what I'm saying?" Genevieve grinned, and Lyra laughed out loud. For Slytherins, there was nothing quite like gossiping about others, including your friends, or quietly plotting for the downfall of enemies...

********************

At precisely midnight, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter were creeping out of the Gryffindor dormitories with all the acumen of skilled mischief makers. As soon as they left the dormitory, James unfurled a large cloak which he had been carrying at his side. "Alright, boys," he said, "let's all get under, now."

"I always tend to feel a bit dirty at this point in the evening," said Sirius.

Remus replied in jest, "As well you should, Padfoot." Sirius threw a mock punch in Remus' direction. James sighed as his three friends crowded closely around him. As he threw the cloak around all of them, their heads and torsos suddenly became invisible. Oddly, their feet were still there.

"Peter! You're too fat!" Sirius cried.

"Shut up! I'm not fat. I'm big boned."

Sirius said, "Oh, excuse me, Peter, but your big-bones are squashing me up against James and making it impossible for me to breathe."

"There's not enough room under here, James," said Remus. "All of our feet are showing."

"Why thank you, Captain Obvious!"

James sighed. "Look, what do you want me to do about it? It's not like I can mail order a shiny new Invisibility Cloak complete with embroidered trim and extra room for teenaged mischief makers."

He had a good point. After all, James' Invisibility Cloak was a rare magical item and family heirloom. In their earlier years at Hogwarts, the boys had found that all four of them could fit under it and remain unseen by Filch and Mrs. Norris. Now that they had grown, things were a little tighter.

"Peter," said Sirius, "transfigure yourself into a rat, and James will carry you."

Peter protested, "No! You know I hate doing that. I'm always afraid I'll screw the transformation up and end up a rat for the next twelve years of my life, or something."

What the two were referring to was the fact that recently, James, Sirius and Peter had mastered the difficult magic behind becoming animagi. Very few wizards could transform into animals at will, and the boys only attempted such a tedious and dangerous task for the sake of Remus. Only the faculty and his three friends knew it, but Remus Lupin was a werewolf. He had been afflicted with the condition at an early age and was only admitted to Hogwarts because of the kindness and understanding of Dumbledore. The Headmaster believed that Remus posed no threat to the student body if certain precautions were taken at every full moon. He would be smuggled out to the Shrieking Shack, an abandoned house outside the school grounds, where he could transform in privacy and with the insurance that no humans would be placed at risk. For the past five years, Remus had been able to keep his secret from everyone, except for his friends. They had soon figured out that he was a werewolf, and sought a way to make his affliction more bearable. Realizing that werewolves posed no threats to other animals, James suggested that they learn how to be animagi. It took almost three years, but finally James could transfigure himself into a stag, Sirius, into a dog, and Peter, into the aforementioned rat. The possibilities for adventure were endless, but the boys needed to be careful. All animagi needed to be registered and watched by the Ministry of Magic. The penalty for being caught unregistered was a lifetime sentence to Azkaban prison. For Sirius and James, the risk seemed to only add to the excitement of their powers, but Remus always forced constraint. He felt responsible for the boys' illegal transformations, and didn't want to see his friends in any trouble beyond an unpleasant detention.

"You guys, no. I'll get out and the three of you can be under the cloak," Remus said.

Peter exclaimed, "But Remus! You could get caught!"

"I don't want you transfiguring yourselves inside the school. Only on full moons, alright? Besides, I'm a prefect. I can make something up, like I heard a rumor Bellatrix Black and Rudolphus Lestrange were snogging in the Astronomy Tower."

"Ugh!" Sirius gagged. "Please don't give me the mental image of my skanky cousin and her shady fellow doing anything in the Astronomy Tower. I think I've been scarred enough by my family already."

At this point, James was impatient for a little action of his own. "Can we just get a move on?"

"Fine. Let's go."

The boys made their way through the dark, empty halls of Hogwarts. Remus led the boys slowly, keeping an ear out for Filch and his lit wand before him. Behind him was empty space and the sounds of shoes scuffing the floor. Finally the boys arrived at the point where they had seen Professor Covington the night before. James threw off the cloak and admired a handsome, if not also boring, section of wall.

"There's nothing here."

James said to Remus, "Look on the map. See if there's a password to open it."

The Marauder's Map was the boys' greatest accomplishment--besides becoming animagi. It was still a work in progress, but already it had become an invaluable tool for mischief making. The map showed an entire schematic of the school, changing itself along with the rooms and staircases, and gave the passwords to various secret tunnels and chambers in the school. The boys were now attempting to "teach" the map other tricks. They wanted it to expand outside the school grounds, track individuals, and hide its secrets from unwanted spies. Sirius and Remus had started to experiment with tracking spells, with very little luck thus far. So far, only animals would show up, which was far from what the boys wanted.

At James' request, Remus pulled the map out of his pocket and opened it up, saying, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," a password proposed by Sirius.

Remus studied the map quickly and said, "No."

"There's nothing?" Peter asked.

"Worse...there's a cat coming towards us." Remus quickly folded the map up and stuffed it in his pocket.

James cursed. "Oh no, Mrs. Norris!"

"How does she know?"

Sirius whispered, "Hide the cloak!"

No sooner than James had thrown the cloak in the shadows behind a man-sized vase, than they heard the croaky, but jubilant voice of Filch. "Well, well, well...what do you know, Mrs. Norris? All four of 'em, and right where he said they'd be: out of their beds and neck high in trouble."