Bereft

Therian's eyes took a moment to focus, then settled on the bright blue eyes of the man in front of him. He sat up, and looked around dazedly. He was surrounded by massive stone walls, windows, doorways, and hallways cut into the rock with whimsical irregularity.

"Is this Hogwarts?"

"Yeah....you alright?"

"I'm fine. Where's Dumbledore? Is he here yet?"

Fred shook his head solemnly. "He was supposed to be arriving with you on the Hogwarts express, but the train never arrived."

Therian grabbed the man's arm, gripping it urgently. "There was a thing...the train stopped...Dumbledore left - "

Fred placed a finger to his lips, looking pointedly at the mediwizards around him.

"Not here. Come with me. I've already sent word ahead to Hermione."

He helped Therian to his feet, guiding him toward a winding spiral staircase. Gleaming torches illuminated their faces as they climbed tiresomely upwards.

"Hermione's an Auror from the Department of Mysteries, but she's here at Hogwarts on Ministry business. She'll know what's going on."

A slim, bushy-haired woman was slumped in an armchair in the teacher's lounge, twirling her wand idly between her fingers. She had been staring moodily into the roaring flames in front of her, and barely glanced up as they walked in. Stormy gray eyes surveyed Therian through brass-rimmed spectacles.

"Who are you?"

Therian, by now, very confused, and more than a little irked at the woman's tone of voice, snapped. "You tell me, lady. I would've thought you would've read my mind by now, you know, just "a special talent of yours". Everybody else can, why not you? And just what the hell is going on here? What was that thing that stopped the train? God damn it, stop being so mysterious and give me some answers!"

His outburst elicited a chuckle from Fred, and a quizzical look from Hermione. Fred placed a calming arm around Therian, still laughing as he spoke.

"Hermione, meet Therian Falios: our bold and fearless savior."

An eyebrow quirked. Other than that, no reaction was discernible from Hermione. However, beneath her impassive countenance, she was probing deeply with her powers, gauging the extent of his abilities.

The other eyebrow rose. "So you are, Therian," she replied evenly, a grudging note of respect edging into her voice. She pushed her glasses up farther on the bridge of her nose, and favored Therian with a piercing gaze.

"You mentioned something about the train...?"

"Yeah...something stopped the train before it got to Hogwarts - "

"Something stopped the train?" she asked, a note of urgency in her voice.

"Yeah, and then the light turned green."

Both Hermione and Fred stood up quickly, exchanging looks of understanding.

"Send Kale down to the front gate. Tell him to get every mediwizard in the school down there, and get out all the burn salves, healing potions, anything you can find."

Fred nodded, and spoke into his wand.

"Er," said Therian, looking around quizzically. "So what was that thing that stopped the train?"

Hermione sank back down into her chair, and looked away.

"Maybe this isn't the best time to talk about that."

"If not now, then when?"

She sighed resignedly, but hesitated, her hands plucking nervously at the edges of her robes.

Fred went to stand behind her. "Go on, Herm. No one can blame him for it nor, the poor bastard."

Hermione nodded. She turned to Therian. "You might want to sit down. It's a long story."

Therian made his way over to the fireplace, seating himself in the chair to the right. Hermione settled back deep into her chair, examining her wand. She bit her lip, displaying an emotion that someone more perceptive than Therian would identify as desperate sorrow, then spoke abruptly.

"It...started with a boy named Neville Longbottom. So clumsy, he was, but as innocent and as pure as a baby unicorn. He lived with his gran, his parents being in St. Mungo's - That's a hospital for the insane - after being tortured to insanity. Three years after we graduated, his gran died, and his uncle was killed by a Welsh Green dragon. Poor Nev was already a little unsteady - he had been fired from his job at the Ministry, and this double loss was too much for his fragile mind. His mind snapped, and all he could think of was finding a cure for his parents. Some traveler fed him some of the rumors surrounding the core's power, and with his wealth, and his parents being in St Mungo's and everything...I guess he just wasn't thinking clearly. He went after it."

"He hired a muggle drilling company with his share of his gran's inheritance. They had been drilling almost a year and a half before the muggles' technology stopped working, and Neville broke with Wizard/Muggle relations. He imbued their tools with magic, without the Ministry's knowledge, and went on."

She paused for a long moment, her head sagging. A lock of deep brown hair escaped from its place and hid her eyes. When she finally spoke, her voice was tinged with a note of deep bitterness.

"It was almost five years before he made it. Five years of living alone on the streets, completely broke and begging his friends for loans, and all he got for it was - "

Hermione's voice choked off. Fred was at her side in the blink of an eye. She waved him off. "I'm all right, Fred."

"As - as soon as Neville breached the core, the power contained there was released into the person nearest to it."

She paused for a moment, her lips pursed.

"So who was it?"

"The Ministry hasn't exactly determined this, but our - my - worst fear is that it was Neville Longbottom. There was one last radio transmission to the muggle drilling station at the surface. I have the tape here, if you'd like it. I don't need it to remember."

She handed the tape to Therian, her eyes haunted. "I hear it every night of my life - when I dream about him."

Therian took the tape apprehensively, storing it in his trunk for later.

"So - what happened then?"

"When the core was breached, no one knew about it for a long time. Had we knew, we might have been able to contain it somehow, but it hid from us. It began gathering minions. No humans, or magically able creatures, of course, because he would devour their power on sight, but horrible monstrosities gathered from all corners of the earth....and just as formidable as any wizard, I assure you."

"Does it have any - "

"Weaknesses? No. We have tried guile, we have tried force, Merlin's Beard, we've even tried peace! We cannot even attempt to banish it to where it came from even if we could, because we rarely catch sight of it. It prefers to send its minions to do its work. And they do it very, very well."

"We don't know much about the thing," Fred added apologetically.

"Well, pray tell me what you do know, as I think it concerns my welfare directly!"

Hermione looked uncertainly at Fred. "What we do know...it's not for sure, you understand. We've only got a few eyewitness accounts, and very few at that, because the monster's forces rarely leave anybody alive. We know that it somehow...negates weaker magics. Some of the most powerful wizards in the world have thrown everything they've got at them, and earned themselves only a respite of a few minutes or so. Also...it's intelligent. We've attempted to trap it, in a number of ways I'm not certain would have succeeded even if they had worked, and it's not responded."

Therian was silent, gazing moodily into the fire. Now that he was aware of the threat, his burden placed upon his shoulders seemed even greater than before.

"So why do you think I'm going to be able to beat it? After all, it's invincible, smart, and absorbs magic. What can I do against it?"

"Look, Therian - "

The sound of muffled cursing was audible, followed be the sound of an impatient cry of "Alohomora!" The door flew open, and a wild haired prefect burst in. He stared wildly at Therian for a moment, than directed his gaze upon Hermione.

"Yes, Kale?"

"Pomfrey sends word from the front gate. The train has arrived. She's tending to the Dumbledore as we speak."

"Madam Pomfrey, Kale."

"Yeah. Whatever."

Hermione stood up and wiggled her fingers. Her wand flew toward her, and she stalked toward the door. She paused at the door, and addressed Kale.

"Take Therian to the Gryffindor dormitories and help him settle in for the night."

She turned to Therian.

"Oh, and the armband you're wearing? Never take it off. Ever."

With that, she whirled, and strode out of the room, leaving an awkward silence behind.

The youth by the door was staring intently at a point above Therian's head. Therian raised his eyebrows, and cleared his throat nervously. He resisted the urge to turn around and see what it was. The silence dragged on, until Therian finally spoke up.

"So," Therian mumbled, shuffling his feet. "What's happening?"

"Oh! Hey, I'm Kale Elenyil. You're Therian, right? The guy that's supposed to save the world?"

"Er...yeah," he agreed, resolving privately to keep his magical shortcomings to himself.

He extended a brown, calloused hand. Therian gripped it firmly. As soon as their hands met, Kale stared at him, and for a split second, judgment flashed in his eyes. His eyes were practically unreadable, but they seemed to glint favorably. When Therian looked closer, he saw nothing but an innocent, unassuming expression.

"Er...you can let go of my hand now," said Kale with an amused smile.

"Oh. Right. Of course."

Another awkward silence followed, punctuated by the loud shifting of a log in the fireplace. Kale seemed completely at ease, although he spoke first.

"All right then, this way to the common room - hold on a bit - you know about the houses, right?"

"I don't know anything about anything here," Therian said shortly.

Kale sighed deeply, and bent his head and coughed. It sounded remarkably like "Granger, you tricky old biddy." However, when he looked up, his face was arranged in an expression as helpful and cheerful as any complacent Walmart employee. Personally, Therian thought it looked quite painful.

"Ok, well, first of all, this place" - he swept his arm wide to encompass the entire school - "is called Hogwarts. All magically able children in Britain receive training here to become fully fledged adult witches and wizards. Since you're here, I'm going to make the enormous intuitive jump that you are also a wizard. Got that?"

Therian nodded dumbly.

"There are four houses, Gryffindor, Slytherin, and Hufflepuff. I'm one of the Gryffindor house's prefects...sort of a rule enforcer. If you misbehave, we take points from your house. You impress a professor, you get points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points wins the house cup. Winning the house cup is good. Following me?"

"Yeah...listen, I can find out this stuff later. What's the Ministry of Magic?"

"They're like the governing body of the wizarding world. Oh, and they keep us from being discovered by non-magic peoples. I don't have to tell why that would be bad."

"And an Auror?"

"They keep the peace, combat Dark forces, protect innocent students from bitter, tricky old women who won't hesitate to take advantage of the students' natural kindness and trusting demeanor and ask outrageously assuming favors of them without so much as a thank you. You know, things like that."

Therian laughed sharply. "I get the distinct feeling you really don't want to be stuck explaining things to a newcomer right now."

Kale flapped a careless hand. "No problem, really. I just like being told what I'm getting into."

Me too, Therian thought fervently, remembering the vague letter he had received, and the abrupt realization of the actual extent of his task. If he had known what he was getting into, he wouldn't have been at King's Cross that day.

Well, maybe I would have, he thought as he looked around. The quirky beauty and style of Hogwarts rather appealed to him, contrasting sharply with his previous dull reality.

They had been walking for some time, and Kale broke off the conversation as they neared a portrait of an overweight elderly woman. She waved cheerily, startling Therian.

"This is the entrance to Gryffindor Tower - just say the password to her, and she'll swing open. Password's "crown jewel"."

The painting swung open, and Therian was greeted with the comforting sight of the Gryffindor common room. Several enormous armchairs were arranged around the room, and a fire blazed merrily in the gigantic fireplace in the center. The room was deserted, as it was nearly midnight, but it seemed welcoming nonetheless.

Kale withdrew a pocket watch from the depths of his robes, and looked at it distractedly. "I've got to go, uh....do something now, so I'll leave you here. If you've got any more questions, I'll see you tomorrow, all right?"

Without waiting for an answer, he sped off, shouting a farewell over his shoulder.

Therian stared after him for a moment, then collapsed into an armchair away from the slightly stifling heat of the fire. He rubbed his temples tiredly. An odd burning sensation burned in the inner part of his eyes, and he closed them gratefully. However, sleep seemed to be eluding him even at this disgusting hour, and his mind was working overtime analyzing his current situation.

His life had fallen apart in a few short hours, and his mind was overtaxed just trying to piece things together into something at least resembling a sane situation. Alarmingly memories and thoughts kept pushing their way to the top of his mind, things and ideas he had never heard before in his life. The sight of the red gold furniture and wall hangings seemed somewhat familiar to him, and they stimulated another host of vague, incomplete memories. A smiling, bespectacled face framed by a mane of dark, messy hair was foremost in his thoughts, a lightning shaped scar gleaming from the center of his forehead. Therian focused on that face, willing it to stay in his memory.

The boy in his thoughts seemed to be the key to everything he didn't remember. If he could just find out who the boy was, and what he had to do with himself, he felt sure that he would remember everything.

The word 'Floo Powder' came abruptly to his lips, and he realized that it was very, very late. The warmth of the fire gradually worked its magic on his senses, and he drifted off, muttering some nonsense about 'Quidditch'.

* * * * * *

Half a world away, something unspeakably horrible stirred, sensing a strange apparition in its cursed half dreams. It surged to its feet, the image of a gangly, sandy haired youth with a brightly glowing spot of light on his arm burned in its mind. Bands of warped, wiry muscle stood out on its broad, stooped shoulders. It raised a blasted, blackened hand to its warped face, and stroked the gleaming rock embedded into the cracked skin there. The creature's twisted features formed an expression of malicious glee, and a hoarse, rumbling laugh emerged from somewhere within the depths of its contorted frame.

"So...Therian Falios has finally come."

The monster bared its teeth in a gruesome smile.

"He will die like the rest."