In the Folds of Darkness

In the Folds of Darkness

Chapter One

-The Letter -

One year ago . . . .

"Father, why can't I go to Hogwarts with the rest of the students?" the boy asked, looking up at his father, his arms crossed in front of him.

"You weren't selected, Rafael," his father said tiredly, his hand on his head and elbow resting on his desk.

"But you know I'm good enough! Why won't you take me?"

"It is . . . beyond my control at this point." His father sighed, looking up at him. "The candidates have already been selected and if I gave you a special allowance because you are my son, it will be looked down by the rest of your classmates."

"I know, Father, but still . . . I really wanted to attend."

"I know you do, Rafael, and I'm sorry. If I could change it, I would, but I can't."

"I understand," Rafael said, trying to keep the emotion from his voice.

"There will be another Tri-Wizard Tournament."

"But I won't be able to be one of the champions," Rafael said dejectedly.

"Rafael, please -"

"It's not fair, though!"

"Rafael!" his father said sharply. Rafael swallowed, looking down at the toes of his black boots. He fidgeted with the edge of his black cloak. "Leave me; I have a load of work to do."

"Yes, Father," Rafael said, his anger rolling inside of him. He turned and stalked out of his father's study, his cloak billowing out behind him.

Presently . . . .

"We will be studying three curses today, which I expect you to have mastered in a month and be able to resist two of them," Professor Vanderbough said sternly, looking around at the class of Durmstrang fifth-years.

Rafael glanced down at his Dark Arts book and his parchment where he would take his notes. "I wonder which curses we'll be learning?" his best friend Nikolai asked.

Rafael looked over at Nikolai and smiled. "We'll see."

Nikolai grinned. "I hope it's the Unforgivables! It's nearly Christmas and Vanderbough said that he would teach them to us before Christmas."

Rafael nodded. "Let's hope."

"The first curse we will study is the Imperius Curse. Can anyone tell me about this particular curse?"

Rafael raised his hand and Professor Vanderbough looked at him, giving him a small smile. "Mr. Karkaroff."

"The Imperius Curse takes complete control of another being or person, and a wizard can use it to make the other being do whatever he wishes."

"Very good. Now," Vanderbough said, looking around the classroom, "the Imperius Curse is very difficult to fight. Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse. It was quite a job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will. It takes real strength of character to fight the Imperius Curse and not everyone has it. It's best to avoid being hit by it or be on the other end."

The class nodded and Vanderbough motioned to a cage containing three rats on his desk. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at one of the rats. "Imperio!" Before their eyes, the rat began doing somersaults and dancing around.

"Would you look at that!" Nikolai commented.

"Wouldn't want to be the rat," Rafael said, smirking.

The class erupted into laughs and Vanderbough looked at them sternly. "This is not a curse to be laughing at. How would you like it if it was done to you?" The class silenced. "Now each of you have been given a spider, and I would like you to try the curse. Don't expect to be perfect yet; you will get it eventually."

Rafael turned his attention to the spider in the jar that sat in front of him. He pulled out his wand, pointing at the spider. "Imperio!" he shouted and he smiled when the spider began weaving a web and swinging from it like a trapeze. Stop! He thought and the spider froze. This is brilliant. He heard Nikolai burst out laughing beside him.

"Look!"

Rafael looked over at Nikolai's spider, which was doing an Irish tap dance. He laughed. "Nice!"

"Class." They turned their attention back to Vanderbough. "Let us move on to the next curse. I want you to practice the Imperius Curse, for it will be on your exam, and work together to be able to resist it. At the time of your exam, I will call each of you up and perform the Imperius Curse and you had better be able to resist it at least somewhat. Moving on. Can anyone name another Unforgivable?"

Nikolai raised his hand. "Mr. Zumberov."

"The Cruciatus Curse."

"Very good. Can anyone tell me about this particular curse?"

Melodia, a tall red-headed fifth-year, raised her hand. "Ms. Palatin."

"The Cruciatus Curse is a curse that tortures a being or person. It was a very popular curse years ago."

Vanderbough smiled, nodding. "Excellent. Ms. Palatin is correct. You don't need nails or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse." He pointed his wand at one of the rats. "Crucio!" The rat began writhing around, rolling over and twitching horribly, rocking back and forth. Its squeals rang through the classroom. Vanderbough did not remove his wand, and the rat began to shudder and jerk more violently. Then he lifted his wand and the rat collapsed, breathing heavily, twitching every once and awhile.

Rafael looked at the rat in wide-eyed horror. That was horrible!

"A very nasty curse to those who suffer its effects. You don't want to be on the receiving end. Try this curse on the spider in front of you. I warn you, it is difficult to perform, so do not expect anything to happen."

Rafael looked at the spider and pointed his wand at it. "Crucio!" he commanded, but nothing happened.

Calls of "Crucio!" filled the room as the students tried to perform the Cruciatus Curse, but to no avail.

"You have a month to be able to perform this curse. I don't expect it to be perfect, nor should you, but be able to at least make the spider twitch. There is one final curse, the last of the Unforgivables. Who can tell me this curse?"

Yaneth, a stout, dark-haired boy and an avid Quidditch player, raised his hand. "Mr. Beltrov."

"The Killing Curse, the worst curse of all of the Unforgivables."

"Yes, it is," Vanderbough said gravely. "Unfortunately, I cannot teach you to resist this curse, for there is no resistance. It's not very pleasant and there's no countercurse. There's no blocking it. And there has only been one known survivor of this curse."

"Harry Potter," Rafael said grimly.

"Yes," Vanderbough said, nodding, looking at Rafael. "The Boy Who Lived." He pointed his wand at the final rat. "Avada Kedavra!"

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air - instantaneously the rat rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. There were a few sharp intakes of breath around the room and a few soft cries.

"The Killing Curse is a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it - I doubt any of you could perform it. Go ahead and try, but don't expect anything."

Rafael swallowed and looked the spider. It scuttled around the jar, as if trying to get away from him. It's almost like it knows what I'm going to try to do. He pointed his wand at the spider. "Avada Kedavra!" he shouted, but nothing happened. No light, nothing. Not even a slight twitch.

"I know I am asking a lot of you, to try to be able to perform this in a month. This is the one curse that will be the most difficult to learn. But you should be able to do it. Practice on all the vermin that roam the dungeons; as I'm sure the other professors would enjoy that," Vanderbough said with a smile.

A few of the students chuckled softly at this. Rafael smiled.

"These curses, as you know, are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban, but that is what you are up against these dark days. There are many that still believe that you shouldn't learn these curses, but you have to in order to survive. The Dark Lord is very much alive and is beginning his reign of terror once again. You need to be armed and ready. We are one of the few schools that teach our students the Dark Arts, but it is imperative that you are ready for anything. That is why we not only teach you to defend yourself against these dark curses, but to be able to perform them in case your life is threatened." A bell sounded and the students rose. "Just practice and you will be able to perform at least two of the curses. If you can't perform the Killing Curse by the end of the month, I won't take away points, since it is very difficult. But I will give out bonus points to those who can perform it. You may go."

The students walked out of the room, chattering excitedly amongst themselves.

"Those curses are wicked! I can't wait to practice," Melodia said as they walked.

Rafael nodded. "I know what you mean. I really want to be able to do the Killing Curse."

"What do you need the bonus points for?" Nikolai asked with a laugh. "You're already top of our class."

Rafael shrugged. "You never know. I might suddenly lose points for something and need bonus ones to make them up."

"I highly doubt it," Yaneth said.

"Well, I still want to know it in case I ever need to use it."

The three of them nodded. "You know, I can't believe that at some schools, they won't let the students even try any Dark magic," Melodia said, shaking her head. "How do you expect to be ready if they won't teach you how to defend yourself?"

"Some people believe that you only need to know certain curses and you'll be fine. I disagree, since I believe that you should be prepared with all magic," Rafael said.

"We'll just have to make sure you're there when we face the Dark Lord," Nikolai said with a laugh. "You probably know more Dark magic than he does!"

They all laughed. "I doubt that very much," Rafael said, "but it's nice to know what we're up against."

They walked in silence for a few moments. Then Melodia spoke up. "Do you think he'll hit the schools?"

"I hope not," Rafael said.

* * *

"I hate numbers," Nikolai grumbled, glaring at the parchment in front of him.

They were in the library, working on their Arithmacy homework, and the numbers were getting the best of Nikolai. "What number are you on?" Rafael asked.

"Number four," Nikolai grumbled.

"Let me see," Rafael said, pulling Nikolai's paper over next to his. He looked at his book and then at Nikolai's work. "Okay, here's the problem. You have to multiply these two numbers and then you can put them with the numbers on the other side. Then you can solve for zero to find the imaginary and real roots."

"I still hate numbers."

"I know you do, but you have to pass this class in order to become an Auror."

"Why do Auror's need arithmacy?"

Rafael shrugged. "Don't ask me, but it's required."

"Why me?" Nikolai moaned and put his head down on the table with a 'THUD'.

"I'm going to go look up the Polyjuice potion we're supposed to be able to make for our quiz. Have you done that yet?"

Nikolai lifted his head and stared at Rafael. "Rafe, its three weeks away!"

"So? We have to be able to master those curses in four weeks, and besides, the earlier we start getting ready for the exams, the better chance we have of passing them."

"You go do that. I'm going to stare at these squiggly things some more."

"Those squiggly things are numbers."

Nikolai glared at him. "I know that. Tell that to my eyes." He turned back to his parchment and began scribbling away, muttering under his breath.

Rafael stood and walked to the back of the library, searching through the old books until he found Most Potente Potions and took it out. He knew that some schools restricted the books that involved the Dark Arts and the more dangerous spells, but Durmstrang had never restricted any book. They were there to learn, and if they were restricted from books, how were they supposed to learn everything?

Rafael flipped through the pages until he came to the Polyjuice Potion. He brought the book back to where Nikolai was still scribbling away and sat down, taking out his own parchment. He began writing down notes and copying the ingredients.

* * *

One evening, during dinner in the small dining hall, Rafael sat thinking, eating his ham. He looked around at the torch-filled walls and the one large window at the front of the hall, behind the table where the professors sat. This place is so small, and our dormitories aren't much better, but I suppose we don't need that much room since we're a very small school. I wonder what Hogwarts is like? I've heard that it was huge and the Great Hall where they eat their meals is amazing. Victor Krum came back, rattling non-stop about how fantastic Hogwarts is. I should have been there and seen it, but I suppose I'll never be able to. I still remember the last thing I said to my father before he left for Hogwarts. We had had a fight, and now he's gone, and I'll never be able to tell him that I wasn't mad at him. I don't think he's dead, but he disappeared after the Dark Lord had risen, and I fear that if the Dark Lord would ever find him, he would be done for. He had been a Death Eater, once loyal to the Dark Lord, but he had renounced that and he's been a wreck ever since. He was always so nervous. I hope he's alright.

"Rafael Karkaroff?" a stern voice said.

Rafael looked up to see Professor Ternlanen looking down at him. "Yes?"

"There's a Mr. Rominal here to speak with you."

"Where?" Rafael asked, standing. Christopher Rominal was one of his father's closest friends and had been taking care of Rafael ever since his father had vanished. What's he doing here? We don't go on break for another week.

"Follow me." Rafael climbed off the bench and followed Ternlanen out of the hall and down a flight of stairs to the main entrance hall, where Chris stood waiting. When he saw Rafael, he immediately rushed over.

"Rafe!"

"What's wrong?" Rafael asked. "Did something happen? Did you find my father?"

Ternlanen nodded to them. "I'll leave you two be. Mr. Karkaroff, I expect you in your dormitory in an hour."

Rafael nodded and Ternlanen walked away. He looked at Chris.

"No, nothing horrible . . . yet. But something's just come up and I can't wait any longer. You need to read this," Chris said, holding out a scroll. "It's a letter from your father."

"My father?" Rafael asked, his eyebrows raised. He took the scroll, unrolling it.

Dear Rafael,

If you are reading this, then I am either missing or dead. I had hoped it would not come to this, but obviously it has, since you are reading my letter. At this time, Voldemort must have risen again, and you are in grave danger.

Rafael's eyes went wide.

When you were born, you were born with a very rare gift, a gift that Voldemort would be most interested in getting his hands on. You are what they call a Natural. It is similar to an Elemental, which I'm sure you have read about. Naturals have three categories which they are sorted into. Sky, Earth, and Spirits. You, my son, are an Earth Natural. You have control over all the elements and creatures on Earth. Ever since you were little, you've always been able to speak with animals and you could make things grow in the strangest of places. That is when I realized what you are. For Earth Naturals can talk to animals, make plants grow, cause earthquakes and volcanic eruptions, change any element into another, and they can control the tides.

Until recently, I thought that although you had this gift, it was not something that would attract Voldemort's attention. Whenever he would mention you, I would make sure that I didn't mention this gift. However, your gift did not stop there. You are, in fact, what they call a Swerker. A Swerker can do magic by thinking and can travel through time. There hasn't been a Swerker since Hogwarts was built, for Rowena Ravenclaw was a Swerker. This is a talent that is extremely rare and, unfortunately, invaluable to Voldemort. As hard as I tried to keep this a secret, he managed to find out and he will do anything do get his hands on you.

That is why you must leave Durmstrang. As much as I do believe in the school's abilities, I fear that they are not enough. You must go to Hogwarts, where you can be kept safe by Albus Dumbledore. I think that Hogwarts may be the only safe place for you, my son, and it is imperative that you go now! Do not mention where you are going to anyone. Only Chris knows, for he is your guardian, now that I am gone. You have to hide and Hogwarts is the safest place I can think of. Do not worry, for you will be in no danger once you are on Hogwarts grounds; however, at this point, you are in danger and you must leave straight away.

If Voldemort got a hold of you, we would be doomed. For if he could go through time, he could very well go back to when Harry Potter defeated him and make sure that Harry Potter never existed. Harry Potter is the hope against Voldemort and you must ally yourself with him. This is the only chance we have.

I know this is a lot to take in at once, but you must believe me. I only have your safety in mind. I love you very much, Rafael, and I know you will not disappoint me.

Your father

Rafael looked up at Chris. "So I have to go to Hogwarts?"

Chris nodded gravely. "Yes. The Headmaster has already been informed and you will depart tonight. Go and get your things."

"I can't even say goodbye to my friends?"

"I'm sorry," Chris said, his face sad. "I truly am, but this is for your safety."

Rafael nodded. "Right," he said sadly. He turned and sprinted up the stairs, heading to the Tower where his dormitory was located. "Hazelfire!" he shouted at the portrait that covered the entryway. The portrait swung open and he raced through the large common room and up the stairs to his room. He quickly shoved everything he could manage into his trunk and was closing the cage on his owl, Talcath, when Chris Apparated in his room.

"Do you have everything?"

Rafael looked around the room. Robes, books, supplies, Quidditch robes, Firebolt, Talcath, pictures . . . "I think so," he said. Let's hope I didn't forget anything.

"Let's go, then," Chris said. "Meet me at your manor."

Rafael nodded and Chris Disapparated. Rafael looked once more around the room and then saw his dragon-hide boots poking out from underneath his bed. He snatched them up and threw them into his trunk.

Why are we leaving in such a hurry? Talcath complained.

"I'm sorry; we have to go to Hogwarts. I'll explain when we get there."

You had better! I don't like being thrown around and being pushed from here to there!

"I'm sorry, Talcath. I really am." Rafael looked around, and, after making sure he hadn't left anything, Disapparated.