Altering Reality

Chapter Two: The Pawns Are Gathered

An Unknown Time and Place

'Mission complete, Master. All are accounted for.'

'No, you prat, it is not complete, you didn't get the traitor and the girl!'

'Err ... I ... I thought ...'

'Incompetent fool! I want the traitor and the girl -- NOW!'

'You heard the Master, get a move on. Get us 729; he'll know what to do'

'Yes, sir! Please ... I beg you, Master, forgive me ...'

'Just bring me 729, and whilst you're at it tell 327 to come up here as well.'

'Yes, Master, I'll get them both. I won't fail you again ... I swear it.'

'Go on kid, he's in a right mood. I'm sure you don't want to get him angrier then he already is.'

'No, sir, I'll get right on it!'

A door closed with a soft swish and one of the two men left in room let out a string of oaths. Going over to a boarded up window that only let in a sliver of moonlight, the man reflected on a time when he used to stand at this very same window, only then it was under very different circumstances. When he could still see the moon and stars in their glory and not be afraid to be seen in return. A time when he still had the dreams and hopes of youth, and did not hear the screams and tortured moans of innocents and friends alike. A time before his own screams started and he was forced into the life he now led.

'You know I hate it when you fret like this,' a voice said as cold, pale arms wrapped around the thin body of the man at the window. 'You're didn't eat.' Not an accusation, just a statement.

'Gave it to 691, he needed it more than I did. Damn it, we've spent ten out of thirteen years fighting for this, and it's already been screwed up by incompetence! Years of running ... hiding ... praying to whatever gods we have that the nightmares will end. We're so close ... so close ...' he sighed.

'It will work, just give it a chance. We've all worked for this day, even the children have done their part, those that are left anyway,' the second man said and pulled his lover into his arms. 'They're doing the best they can.'

'It's not enough! Ten years of research to pinpoint the exact moments in which to get them all here ... of nearly going blind from reading with only a few stolen candles or a heavily cloaked lighting spell ... of seeing friends and partners die in your arms to get information that could help us ... oh God ... what if it fails? What if it was all for nothing?' the first man said and choked back a sob.

'It won't fail, we won't let it fail. All right, so someone screwed up getting the traitor, we'll fix it. If we give up now because of a small setback then we may as well go feed ourselves to the Dementors and have done with it. Is that what you want?' the second man asked.

'I want it to end, that's what I want,' the first man said. He left his lover's arms and walked over to a frayed, tattered, yellowed map spellotaped to the top of an equally old desk. He touched it gingerly, as if it would crumble beneath his fingers, and grateful that it had managed to withstand the tests of time as it had. It was one of only a few forms of defence left.

The second man walked over to the map as well and checked on the positions of the labelled dots on the map. 'Bloody hell, what does 290 think she's playing at, that level is restricted!' he scowled. Going over to a small device he tapped on it twice, satisfied when he heard a static-like noise come through. Speaking into the device he said in a gruff voice, 'Tell 290 she's to get her arse back to her quarters. In fact, tell her that she's confined to her quarters until the Master says so.' When he heard another burst of static he nodded to himself in satisfaction and walked back over to the map, smirking slightly as he saw a dot move towards the offender.

The first man chuckled, though it wasn't exactly a pleasant sound. 'I say this time earns her a week in her quarters, don't you?' the first man said.

The second man grinned. 'At least. You'd think by now she'd have learnt that you don't disobey the Master.'

The first man nodded and a glint of cold mirth came into his eyes. Even after all these years it was hard to believe that he was indeed the Master of everything now. Too much had happened, too much innocence lost, he had been tainted by blood and death far earlier than anyone should have. He never planned to become the Master of this place, it just happened that way. At first he wanted none of it; not the title, the power, or the respect that was warranted, but when nearly everything he knew and loved was destroyed virtually overnight, he had no choice but to accept these things. Those that were left after the destruction began flocked to him for leadership and guidance. He had suffered though, suffered more than any of the survivors had. Because of the position of authority he was placed in, the kind-hearted, generous, dependant boy became shaped into the cold, deadened, nearly heartless man he now was. Oh yes, he had suffered the last thirteen years, and now the ones who had made him suffer would pay for it.

Leaning over the map he made a quick check on everyone, making sure the rest of his flock were where they were supposed to be, then tapped a spot on the map that showed three dots now heading towards the room.

'They're coming. You know what to do right?'

The second man snorted and brushed back a lock of his white hair. 'If I don't by now I never will. Don't worry, we'll get them. And when we have them all ...'

'Then it begins,' the first man said with a twisted grin, and for the first time in ages his eyes seemed to be lit by a liquid fire that was alternating between a reddish green and flecked with gold. It wasn't a look of hatred, bitterness and coldness like before, but instead there was hope. 'We take back what should have been ours.'

'It will be our world, my love. We'll rebuild it better ... stronger ... and we'll make sure that something like this shan't ever happen again. We'll be free,' the second man said in low, husky voice. He pulled his lover back into his cold arms, yet his lips were warmed as they touched his lover's with a passion still felt after all these years.

***

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry -- 1997

'Are you saying neither of them was on the train, Neville?' Ron asked in surprise. He and his Gryffindor classmates were only halfway through the Sorting Feast, and things were already not going right.

Neville nodded his head. 'Yeah. From what I heard from Ginny, who heard it from Parvati, who heard it from Padma, who by chance heard it from Pansy who didn't know Padma was listening, Malfoy wasn't on the train either,' Neville said.

Hermione snorted and shook her head, amazed at what she was hearing. 'Sometimes I just can't believe the grapevine gossip that goes through this school. I'm the Head Girl, Neville; if anything was seriously wrong I think I'd have been told by now. Maybe Harry's just coming late and Dumbledore didn't want to worry us. As for Malfoy, well, maybe his family had an emergency and he's delayed too,' she said.

'Does it really matter if that git wasn't on the train? I say good riddance if he wasn't, not like he'd be missed. I'm just worried 'bout Harry, he's never missed the train ... not counting second year anyway,' he added quickly when he saw the look Hermione was giving him.

'Despite that I agree, Ron, it's not like Harry at all. Usually his uncle drops him at the station early, not late. I wonder why he wasn't at the train station?' she said.

'Good Lord, you Gryffindors are thick! Can't see what's right in front of your idiotic noses, can you,' a voice said coolly from behind them.

Neville, Ron, and Hermione all turned in unison and glared at the person speaking. 'We didn't ask for your opinion, Parkinson. Now sod off,' Ron muttered and turned back around, ignoring her.

Hermione, however, wasn't put off by Pansy's insults. 'If you know anything you better tell us, Pansy.'

Pansy screwed up her nose in distaste. 'I tell you this, if Potter did anything to my Drakkie-poo, I'll personally see to it he's expelled,' she huffed.

'Pansy,' Hermione said in a warning voice. 'I am Head Girl and I can easily take points off Slytherin if you don't talk, so I suggest you start talking. What did you mean by what you said?'

Pansy snorted then sniffed loudly. 'Well Miss Big-Shot-Head-Girl, shows how well you two know your "best friend" that you didn't even see him. Even I saw him sitting on the bench at the train station, he was reading a book on dreams I believe. And mind you, not that I want to believe it, but he was wearing a rather sexy green dress shirt with black trousers that actually fit him, and I might add they fit him very nicely at that,' she smirked. 'I suppose you two were too busy snogging each other that you didn't even bother to notice him, how utterly droll. I'm truly surprised at you though, Granger, how you'd miss anyone with a book in front of their nose is beyond me,' Pansy said then flounced off.

Turning to each look at each in surprise Ron and Hermione felt horrible. They blamed themselves for the fact that they had walked right past Harry and hadn't even noticed him. They never intended to make Harry feel like a third wheel, but since last year when Hermione finally became Ron's girlfriend there had been less time spent as a trio and more as a duo. At the moment, both of them wondered if it was their fault that Harry may not have got on the train; that maybe he didn't want to be left out again this year, especially if he had seen them and they had completely ignored him at the station.

'We didn't even notice him. How awful is that?' Ron groaned.

'Have we really become that dense, Ron? How could we have walked right past him and not even noticed he was there?' Hermione asked.

'Oh, come on you two, buck up. Harry would never blame you for something as trivial as that. You three are best mates, I'm sure he knew it wasn't intentional you passing him by,' Neville said giving both Ron and Hermione sympathetic looks.

Hermione sighed then looked up and took a good look at Neville, concern in her eyes. He had changed drastically the past year and half. He was no longer the overweight, short eleven year old she'd met on the first train ride. He was now a tall, thin, and saddened seventeen year old who had had his share of terror and pain. Hermione wondered how Neville survived during his imprisonment two summers prior when he had been accused by Cornelius Fudge for being a Death Eater accomplice, but she was glad he had survived, even though it had taken its toll.

Fudge had gone off on a rampage after Voldemort's return, arresting anyone who had any connections with the Dark Arts. Fudge somehow found out one of Neville's uncles had been a friend of a known Death Eater, and because of that association Neville's uncle, Neville, and his grandmother had all been arrested and sent to Azkaban. It wasn't until Fudge was finally removed from office nearly three months later that things improved and the new Minister of Magic pardoned all those who had been falsely imprisoned. Unfortunately, it was too late for Neville's poor grandmother. She had been in shock at their arrest and was therefore too weak to survive the Dementors; she died after only the first month of their incarceration.

After they let Neville go he came to stay at Hogwarts under the care of Dumbledore and the other teachers. When he had first arrived at the castle he was wreck; it took months before he stopped shivering from cold and fear, and even now he needed Sleepless Dreaming Potions during the night or he would wake up screaming. The fact that he had survived such a terrible place was a miracle; men far stronger in spirit hadn't survived the wizarding gaol, but through good friends and strong potions, Neville did come back to them. What had helped the most was Ginny; they had been dating before his imprisonment. She was extremely protective of him, and she was there for him whenever possible.

A loud clinking noise drew Hermione from her thoughts, and she turned attention to the head table where Professor McGonagall was tapping her glass with her spoon. 'Headmaster Dumbledore has a few things he needs to say before you all go to your dormitories,' she said in her strait-laced manner.

The needed words were only the usual run of the mill announcements: stay away from the Forbidden Forest, no magic was to be used in the corridors between classes, Quidditch try-outs would be at the end of October, the Duelling Club would re-commence this year for anyone interested, and so on and so forth. Hermione smiled when she was announced as Head Girl, but that was quickly followed by a frown when she heard Draco Malfoy was picked as Head Boy.

'Malfoy? How in bloody hell did Malfoy become Head Boy? Harry is a hundred times smarter than that git ever will be!' Ron whispered furiously, unfortunately the whisper was not quite a whisper and carried far enough down the Gryffindor table to raise voices, which in turn started a rush of all the tables whispering furiously.

'Mr Weasley, control your outbursts and allow the Headmaster to finish,' McGonagall said through tightly pursed lips.

'Err ... sorry, Professor,' Ron said.

'I know it comes as a shock to you, Mr Weasley, but our decision was based on many things, not just on academics,' Albus said nodding towards Ron. 'Now, if I may continue --' he began, but a small scream cut him off.

'The wall, look at the wall!' a girl, and it sounded an awful like Padma, cried out and all eyes were now focused on a rather curious sight.

The wall near where Ron and Hermione were sitting looked like it was bleeding, only instead of red blood it was a murky black blood. Hermione, who was closest, thought it looked more like someone was pouring ink onto it. Before Hermione or anyone else could react, however, a darkly clad hooded figure came out of the spot on the wall.

'No one moves and no one will get hurt!' an authoritative, male voice said loudly.

Albus was surprised, but he was not going to stand for whatever was going on. He walked over to the hooded man, noting that three more men were now standing behind the first man. 'Who are you? What do you want?' he asked.

The hooded man turned to Albus and gave a hiss, and before Albus could do anything chains flew out of the wall and wrapped around him. On closer inspection it wasn't chains at all, they were snakes, jet black snakes that were fusing together to create a long chain-like link around the Headmaster. The man in the hooded cloak hissed again and the snakes tightened around Albus, eyeing the Headmaster wearily as their owner conferred with the other three people.

The three cloaked men nodded then went over and stood behind Ron and Hermione. Hermione was scared and nervous of what these people wanted. They were close enough for her to touch, and strange odours caught her nostrils. Musty smells, as if these people hadn't seen fresh air in a long time, and she doubted any of them had seen water and soap in quite a while. Their robes weren't even black she noted, but pure dirt and grime that was causing them to appear blackened. The men paid no heed to her or anyone else; instead, they leant over her and Ron, greedily stuffing as much food as they could into their robes. She could see their hands were covered in dirt, and what fingernails they had were broken at all different points. Then she saw scars, hundreds and hundreds of criss-crossed white scars up and down the parts of their arms and hands that were in sight, some wounds were fresh, some looking many years old.

The hooded figure watched the three men, amused by the sight. 'Get all the food you can, but don't forget what we're here for. 824, you've already cocked up this mission once, do not fail me again,' he said in a raspy voice.

One of the cloaked men looked over at the hooded man and paled, though he didn't stop taking food off the table. 'I won't, Master,' he said in a dull voice. When the three men finished filling their robes, the man that had been called 824 looked over at his two partners with a nod. 'We've got enough to last a month or more. Let's get this over with.'

A second man walked behind Ron and pulled a phial of purple liquid from his robes. 'Hold the traitor down.'

The next thing Ron knew his hair was grabbed hard and he was forced to tilt back his head. Half the phial of liquid was poured down his throat, causing him to choke.

'What the --' he tried to splutter, but was backhanded across the face by one of the men.

'Be silent, you traitorous bastard! You don't have the right to speak before our Master!' one of the men snarled as he wrapped his hand tightly around Ron's neck.

'Let him go, 824! Now is not the time, he doesn't know yet,' the hooded man said harshly and holding out his hand muttered a word under his breath. A reddish-gold bolt of energy shot out of the man's hand and hit the one he'd called 824, causing him to cry out. 'Finish your task and get back through the portal.'

'Yes, Master,' the man called 824 said humbly and bowed his head towards the hooded man. He then turned to Hermione and held his hands over her shoulders, tilting her head back as well, only much gentler then he had done to Ron. 'I promise this won't hurt, but it has to be done,' he said in a gentle voice. The man that had the phial then poured the liquid down her throat. She sputtered, but it was more from the bitterness of the odd potion and she wondered what potion it was. A few seconds later she had no thoughts at all; she was as unmoving and oblivious to anything around her, just as Ron was now.

'Good, it's working. Now take them back, and there best not be any foul-ups this time,' the leader rasped.

Two of the men picked up Ron and Hermione and went back through the black spot on the wall. The man with the phial put the stopper back on and carefully put it back into his ragged cloak then walked over to where the hooded man was standing. 'What are you going to do about him, Master?' the man said in a low, gruff voice and glanced at Albus.

'Nothing,' the hooded man said.

'Nothing?' the second man asked.

'If this works, 729, he'll know soon enough. If not then it won't matter if I warn him or not, will it,' the hooded man said.

'I refuse to give up, Master. We've worked so hard for this --' the second man began, but was cut off by a sudden crackle of energy.

'For God sake, I've already had my little "pep talk" today; I don't need it from you too. If my dragon can't cheer me up what makes you think you can? Now go, before I get even angrier that we had to be here at all!' the man said angrily.

The second man cringed and bowed his head subserviently. 'Forgive my impertinence, Master. I'll just go make sure that 824 did not kill off the traitor. Merlin knows he's been itching to do it all these years,' he grinned.

The first man chuckled darkly. 'You do that. And tell 824 that if he touches a hair on the traitor before we see if this works he'll answer to me,' he said.

'Yes, Master,' the man nodded and walked over to the wall then stepped into the black spot and disappeared. The hooded man was now by himself; he gazed around the Great Hall a moment and a shudder visibly passed through him. Putting out his hand he muttered a few incoherent words and food started to fly towards him. He deftly caught the food mid-air then stuffed it into his pockets. When his pockets were full he nodded in satisfaction, then his cloaked head swivelled around and stared at someone sitting at the Gryffindor table.

Walking over to the boy he had been staring at he leaned over and grabbed some food, putting it on the boy's plate. 'You need to eat more; you're too thin, even in this time period. I know you don't think it now, but you'll be all right, trust me,' the man said in a far gentler voice than anyone had yet heard from the stranger. He put his hand on the boy's shoulder and Neville couldn't help wincing at how cold the man's hand was. Risking a glance, he noticed how skeletal the man's hand was, however, before Neville could say anything the man left him and walked back over to Albus, circling him slowly.

The man stopped and leant in, whispering into Albus' ear so only he could hear what needed to be said. 'You recognise the others, I know you do. Don't even try to comprehend this, Albus, because you can't, not yet ... not at this particular moment in time. But if my plan works then all this will be nothing more than a dream shortly. If not then do me a favour, say hello to my parents for me, because I have no doubt that where I'll end up I won't be seeing them,' the man said in a voice laced with bitterness, regret, and sadness.

At hearing those words Albus swung his head around sharply and his breath caught in his throat as the man's hood slipped back just enough for him to see into the man's eyes. Albus knew those eyes, but they were very different then he had last seen them only a few months ago. Now they were older, colder, hardened, and nearly void of life. The eyes didn't belong to the boy he knew, they belonged to a man who had been depraved, abused, and destroyed. Then suddenly he saw something else within the dulled emerald irises; there was a spark of fire behind the dullness, even a hint of hope. The spark was gone as quickly as it had appeared though, but in that moment the two men seemed to come to an understanding.

With hiss from the cloaked man the snakes around Albus broke away and slithered back through the murky hole in the wall. The man then walked over to the wall and one more time gazed around the Great Hall, heaviness in his heart. This would be the last time he would see this place the way it had been for over 1000 years. When there were still Sorting Ceremonies and Feasts with plates piled high with food. When the laughter and innocence of youth rang out and there were still eager young faces willing to learn. With one last glance at Albus the man was gone, and the murky hole closed up, leaving behind only the normal grey of the walls.

No one moved, not even Albus. Not a single word was muttered, not even a cough was heard. Finally Albus said in a strange voice, 'Perhaps it would be best if the Prefects led their houses to their dormitories now. If anyone wishes more food later, feel free to call upon your Head of House and let them know. Severus, Remus, my office if you please. Oh, and Remus, please bring Snuffles with you, I have some treats for him.'

Remus, who had returned to Hogwarts this year as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and Severus both rose from the table without a word. Neither of them looked at each other as they silently and swiftly headed out a side door. After they left the Prefects led the rest of the children out of the Great Hall, and when they were finally gone the rest of the teachers clamoured around Albus like a moth to the flame.

'Albus, what was that all about? Who were those men? Why did they look so familiar?' Minerva said in a panicky voice.

'Yes, Albus, what happened to Ms Granger and Mr Weasley?' Flitwick asked.

'No' ta mention where are 'Arry an' Malfoy? I don' remember seein' 'em at dinner,' Hagrid said worriedly.

Albus held his hands up calling for silence. 'I don't know what just happened exactly or where Mr Weasley, Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy, and Ms Granger are, but I have a feeling I will be finding out soon enough. Now, if you will excuse me I have to meet with Severus, Remus, and Sirius,' he said, his blue eyes void of their usual twinkle.

As Albus made his way to his office he had many things on his mind. The hooded man was right, right now this made little sense to him and to try to comprehend it all wasn't even be feasible. He had a feeling that the man was trying to help him ... or warn him, but for what purpose Albus couldn't imagine. The only thing he could hope for now was that some of the answers would lie with the three men waiting in his office; though he had a suspicion the answers weren't going to be easy to find.