Shadow of a Doubt

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Chapter Ten
Backfire

"Some of this work," said Professor Grimalkin, handing out the marked essays, "was exemplary. Well done." He smiled at Hermione who flushed with pleasure. "Miss Granger particularly seems to have an excellent grasp of the subject of elementals, as does, I'm equally delighted to report, Mr Longbottom."

There was a collective gasp of surprise. Neville had never been singled out in a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson that any of the Gryffindors could remember. But since Professor Grimalkin's first class, when he had conjured the little Neville illusion, the boy had blossomed. The Gryffindors had developed a soft spot for Anders on this fact alone.

A roar from the back of the classroom caused the students to jump. Anders quirked one dark eyebrow and smiled wryly. "The fella's impatient," he said. "That," he said, almost nonchalantly, as he began to cross the room, "is a fire demon. One of a very few that have been raised in captivity. We are fortunate indeed that the Ministry of Magic saw fit to spare it for your studies." There was a faint note of sarcasm in his voice, and seeing the look of puzzlement that crossed everyone's face, he explained further.

"Elemental spirits such as this fire demon need to grow and learn even as you do. Although they're generally spared the homework, I believe." There was a somewhat nervous ripple of laughter. Anders smiled warmly at his class. "This one was summoned very early on its existence by a wizard who held it captive. It was later turned over to the Ministry of Magic for containment. All the time it is enslaved and held captive in its 'prison', it is virtually harmless."

"Sir?"

"Yes, Neville?"

"What happened to the wizard that had the demon captive?" Neville's round face was rapt, intent on listening to Anders' every word. The young Professor sighed.

"It wasn't pretty, let's leave it there," he replied, softly. "The demon escaped from its bindings and wreaked rather a lot of havoc before it was contained again."

The class shuffled their chairs a little further from the demon.

Anders shook his head again. He muttered, 'Lumos' under his breath, and a soft glow illuminated the corner. The entity that stood, encased in a cage seemingly constructed from little other than spider thread was truly awful to behold.

It was tall and lanky, towering over the 6'4" Professor, who looked up at it mildly. It was apparently constructed completely from living flame. Sinewy arms reached out, grasping for Anders as he approached, and the look of sheer malevolence in the thing's burning red eyes spoke of the unspeakable horrors it would work on the Professor should it have the opportunity.

Harry was filled with an almost desperate urge to warn the Professor not to go any closer. That thing had death in its eyes. It saw Anders as the reason it was encased in its weird cage and wanted revenge. But the young man seemed remarkably cool about the situation.

"The cage is constructed from Aquanoleum," said Anders, looking as though he was totally unaware of the glowing hatred in the demon's face. "Aquanoleum is a physical manifestation of a water spell, woven into threads that bind together in a web to prevent the fire demon from acting. Remember what I told you about counteracting elemental spells? Those of you who..." He swallowed. "...who saw Professor Snape and I duelling will have seen the effect water spells had on fire spells."

His eyes looked up and met the demons briefly and he sighed. "I do not personally like to see such entities imprisoned in this way. They belong to the volcanoes, to the centre of the earth from where they come, not in a cage in a Ministry building." His words seemed to be spoken directly to the demon, not the class. "It is with regret that I was advised that all the immature demons were still too…frisky, shall we say, for the Defence Against the Dark Arts class. This one is older, more world-wise, and, I am assured, less likely to turn. I do not wish to cause it unnecessary harm, but…your curriculum is, after all, your curriculum." He moved even closer to the cage, and Harry's breath caught in his throat.

"It has been brought here for today's class for us to experiment with different types of defence against fire elementals. Next week I hope to have a water demon, the week after earth, and the final week before your exams start, air."

He glanced up at the class. "Many fire demons are…mischievous as opposed to truly evil - but there are some - " and here he shot a sideways look at the thing, "that will destroy everything in their path until they are vanquished. And they do this for no reason other than the fact they can do it."

He could not repress the shudder.

"Our experiments today will obviously figure very heavily around the fire elemental. Normally, the Ministry would perform this service for me in advance, but they are, apparently, too busy and have requested that I do this myself. Please note that the spell I am about to cast is one that is as close to the Dark Arts as you can get without crossing the line."

His voice shook a little as he said this. But, confidently, he stood before the cage again, and bowed his head, almost apologetically. Anyone close enough would hear him mutter an apology to the demon before he held up his wand and chanted 'Brimstone multiplartum!"

There would be two things the truly observant would notice when Anders cast this spell. The first was that a faint sheen of sweat broke out on his face, and the second was that the crystal pendant he wore around his neck seemed to glow slightly.

The thing let out a roar of rage? Pain? It was impossible to tell which - and several tiny sparks leapt forth from it, burning on the ground before Anders. He knelt down and picked one up in his bare hand.

"Here," he said, dropping it into the palm of Ron who was nearest. "Take it. It won't hurt you. It's incapable of hurting you - it's a neo-demon. It is a child of our fiery friend there, and will be neither good nor evil unless you teach it one or the other."

He scooped up the other dancing flames gently, almost paternally, and began dropping them on the student's desks. "I want you to study these neo-demons for the remainder of this class, and I am going to teach you the four very basic element defence spells that you can use to examine elemental effects on the fire element."

The pendant around his neck had reverted to its dormant state, and he glanced down at it, a look of relief crossing his face briefly. Then he seemed to pull himself together, and the chalk sprang to life again.

"To cast a simple spell of water on the demon, the spell is 'Aqueatus'. Wands down, repeat the words after me, please." He repeated the process for 'Terraneus' for earth, 'Cumulus' for air and 'Pyrolus' for fire." Then he nodded.

"All yours," he said. "Experiment, and note."

And all the while, the parent demon in its cage at the back of the room was staring at him balefully. He returned its stare with an apologetic gaze of his own, then looked away, ending the Lumos spell and returned to his seat, troubled.

* * * * *

"That was AMAZING fun," enthused Ron as they packed up their things at the end of the lesson. His tiny neo-demon had ended up three times its original size when he had cast a succession of fire spells on it, but Professor Grimalkin had put a stop to his fun by idly casting an earth spell and firmly reminding him that he had other spells to experiment with.

Harry and Hermione agreed readily and, their bags over their shoulders, they left the classroom, Harry glancing over his shoulder to grin at Anders as he passed. He paused in the doorway, watching the young Professor intently.

"Sir? Are you alright?"

"Hmm? Oh, Harry. I was just...that demon. I hope the Ministry returns for it soon. It makes me extremely unhappy having it here."

"You said its bindings were safe, didn't you?" Harry knew a moment's fear. The fire demon was so very...big. And the majority of people at Hogwarts were, in comparison, so very...small.

"Oh, yes. The only thing that can destroy that cage is a Dark Arts spell of great magnitude. I do not believe anyone in this school has that knowledge. It takes years of studying the Dark Arts to even begin to control a demon. Anyone who simply dabbles would be in for rather a nasty surprise if they tried." He gave Harry an encouraging smile. "How about..." he lowered his voice. "How about a lesson tonight?"

"That'd be great..." began Harry, then his face fell. "I can't, not tonight. We have an Astronomy practical and I really have to cram." Professor Grimalkin looked equally disappointed, but shrugged. The fourth-year Ravenclaw class were starting to file into the room, and Anders winked at Harry, effectively dismissing him before turning his attentions to the second-year class to whom he was teaching Curse theory.

As Harry left, he felt the gaze of the demon touch him and he turned briefly to stare at it. It was truly intimidating, and he did not trust it one little bit.

* * * * *

"It'll be brilliant," said Malfoy in his drawling voice. "We'll do it at dinner when everyone's there, then accuse him!"

"Draco, you come up with the most wonderful ideas," said Pansy Parkinson admiringly. "How did you find out about it?"

"I figured it out, stupid," sneered Draco. "What you don't know about me, Parkinson, is that I pay attention whilst the rest of you ignore what's going on around you. Professor Grimalkin is a freak, and the school should be told about it! For all we know, he could be a vampire." Draco had been studying the same books as Hermione, but for very, very different reasons.

Pansy felt a moment's sympathy for the young Professor, who she rather liked in an odd sort of way, but it quickly passed at the idea that he was a vampire. "Ooh," she said. "He is rather pale, isn't he?" Draco smiled inwardly at how quickly the idea had rooted in her mind. If she was so easily swayed, then the majority of the school would be, too.

Draco's words rather worried her. The Professor had always been a little on the pale and wan side, and she had always simply assumed it was because of his illness. But if what Draco was implying was true...

Pansy looked down at the book Draco had shoved across the table. "An Umbra?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She read the description of how that particular clan held people's attention and began to panic slightly. She, herself, had found Anders Grimalkin's Defence Against the Dark Arts classes more than fascinating on several occasions. Maybe this explained it...

She squeaked and slammed the book shut. "It's possible," she said. "After all, the Headmaster DID hire a werewolf...there's not much to stop him from hiring a vampire as well..."

"This should see the end of the old coot's reign at Hogwarts," said Draco, gleefully. "Oh, Pansy, this is going to be marvellous!"

"Yes..." she said, a little doubtfully. "Marvellous."

Draco rubbed his hands together. "Spolio Facticius," he said, showing her the Strip Artifice spell. "I perform it, Grimalkin is exposed!! No more shadow, one shamed Professor Grimalkin. The other students are going to thank me for this...oh, yes. It's going to be a total triumph. A masterpiece of wizardry. Grimalkin will go down in a blaze of shame. I, on the other hand..." He puffed up triumphantly, "will be treated to a blaze of glory."

* * * * *

As if somehow connected with Draco Malfoy's evil plans, the weather took a turn for the worse that afternoon. Thunderous clouds hung over the castle like a flock of particularly evil birds. When the rain finally began to fall, it was in vertical sheets of water that battered off the school roofs and flattened a vast amount of the plant life in the gardens.

Anders Grimalkin, staring out of his classroom window could not recall ever seeing such horrendous rain, not even in Wales, where it rained more or less constantly. Or at least FELT that way.

A howl of rage from the corner of the room caused him to get to his feet and move again to the demon. It was looking slightly transparent, wavering and - if such a word could be applied to such a creature - sickly, apparently distressed by the amount of moisture it could sense in the air. Anders flicked his wand into his hand and fed the thing a couple of small fire spells, watching with satisfaction as it became less translucent. He nodded and turned away, ignoring once again the look of chilling malevolence it shot the young DADA Professor.

He completed the lesson and spent an extra hour or so marking some papers before heading to the Great Hall for dinner.

The weather had driven not only every student and teacher - including Professor Trelawney - into the Great Hall, but also apparently every ghost in the place. The latter may, of course, have had something to do with Peeves circulating the rumour, on Malfoy's orders, that something spectacular was going to happen at dinner. Anders moved quietly to take his seat, finding himself, much to his annoyance, seated next to Sybill Trelawney, who took no time at all in relaying to him in her sonorous voice that the weather was a portent of doom.

The young Professor had learned very early on in his dealings with Professor Trelawney that the best course of action was simply to nod and smile occasionally, leaving her with the impression that he was listening to every word she was saying, when in fact he was running over tomorrow's lesson plans in his head.

"Yoo hoo! Grim!"

Peeves floated through the centre of the top table towards him and he rolled his eyes skywards. He'd managed to escape taunting from the Poltergeist for most of the term. Why Peeves had decided to pick tonight...it was either Trelawney...or the poltergeist.

Anders groaned inwardly. Why him?

"Grim!" Peeves jabbed a ghostly finger at him, which passed through his chest in most disconcerting manner. "I've been visiting your little pet in the DADA classroom. Doesn't like you very much, does he, Grim? He told me some of the things he would like to do to his captor if he could only get out of the Binding Spell. Oooh, do you want to hear them? They're so gruesome..."

"That's enough, Peeves," said Dumbledore, mildly. "Professor Grimalkin..."

"...Professor Grimalkin is quite capable of answering for himself, thank you Headmaster," said Anders, a little irritated at Dumbledore's apparently perpetual belief that his nephew needed constant protection. He turned back to the poltergeist. "Go away, Peeves," he said, his voice low and with enough of an edge to it to make Professors Trelawney and Vector who sat to the other side of him, shuffle away.

The poltergeist opened his ghostly mouth to retort, but then caught the glint of the threat in Anders' mouth and closed it firmly before disappearing with a pop.

Anders settled back in his seat comfortably and grinned at Dumbledore who smiled back affectionately. The boy's confidence was growing so fast now, that it would soon be time to rein it in before he got cocky.

Dinner was, as always, delicious and very, very plentiful. Professor Trelawney ate like a sparrow, nibbling at the tiniest morsels on her plate and bemoaning the fact that portents of doom hung everywhere that day, and they were all pointing at Anders Grimalkin. He smiled at her.

"Maybe, Professor," he said, in his most charming voice. "You might actually be talking a load of complete..."

It was then that he happened to look down at the Slytherin table and met the eyes of Draco Malfoy.

He knew that look.

That was the look of a highly unpleasant individual out to make the life of Anders Grimalkin a complete misery.

A slow smile spread across Malfoy's pointed face, making him look slightly demented and particularly malicious. Anders watched him with a sort of horrible fascination as the Slytherin's wand slid into his hand and pointed up at the table. And for what was probably the first time in his entire life, Anders did something he'd never done before.

He got out of the way.

When the dust had settled, Anders found it very hard to piece together exactly what had happened. As the first syllables of the Spolio Facticius spell left Malfoy's lips, Anders had instantly figured out what the boy's idea was and had ducked instantly under the table. Professors Trelawney and Vector, startled by the man's sudden movement leaned in towards one another to see where he'd gone and were struck by the spell at the same time.

Malfoy's mouth formed a horrified 'O' of surprise as he realised just what he'd done. He hurriedly shoved the wand away again and watched in complete, total and utter horror as the scene unfolded in front of him.

The Strip Artifice spell struck the two female professors simultaneously, and the results were somewhere between tragic and hysterically funny. Professor Vector, who most of the students found easy to get along with was not affected by the spell. Having no reason to change anything about herself, there was nothing artificial for the spell to remove.

Professor Trelawney was another matter.

The illusion she wove around herself was immediately broken, and the usually tall, large-eyed, ethereal looking woman was revealed to be a short, dumpy middle-aged witch with a squint that gave her a first-class view of her nose. She let out a strangled cry of horror and fled the Great Hall to a mixture of snickers and murmurs of sympathy.

At this point, Anders re-emerged from under the table, holding a dinner fork that he'd taken as an excuse for ducking. He saw the door shut as Professor Trelawney left.

Dumbledore was already on his feet, leaning in at the student body. "What," he said, in his most threatening tone, "just happened there? Who saw the caster of that spell? Severus? Minerva? Anders?"

For a split second, Anders was tempted to spill the beans on Draco Malfoy, but he looked down at the Slytherin. Disturbed by the sheer hatred he saw in Malfoy's eyes, he shook his head numbly. "I didn't see, Headmaster," he said. "I...uh...dropped my fork..."

Something like relief flooded over the Slytherin boy's face, but he hardened it again very quickly. Dumbledore shook his head. "Poor Sybill," he murmured. "She's kept that illusion a great secret for many years."

Anders was sorely disappointed he'd missed it, but relieved that he'd avoided the embarrassment that he knew would have followed had Malfoy's spell hit home. Now he knew that the Slytherin knew his secret - he would have to tread very carefully.

His eyes swung over to Hermione Granger, the girl that Draco had more or less accused him of impropriety with.

Yes. Tread very carefully indeed.

* * * * *

Anders headed back to the DADA classroom after dinner to check on the demon one more time before calling it a night. He was not surprised to find Draco Malfoy lounging idly at his desk, his two goons mooching behind him.

"Malfoy," he acknowledged.

"You were lucky tonight, 'Professor'," drawled the Slytherin. "But I wanted you to know that I've only just started." The boy got to his feet and leaned across the desk. "I know what you are, Grimalkin, and I'm going to prove it. You'll be out of this school so fast that you won't know what hit you."

Unfazed, Anders leant back towards Malfoy.

"If you don't get out of my sight now, you won't know what hit you, either."

Malfoy sneered.

"Yes, Grimalkin. I know all about your...temper as well. You'd better just watch yourself, you murdering coward. Just one more bit of useful fodder, and you'll have handed me the noose to hang you with." Malfoy leaned in closer still until his face was just inches from Anders'.

"And I'll enjoy watching you swing."

He let it go and snapped his fingers. Crabbe and Goyle, smirking infuriatingly fell in line behind their leader and the three boys left the DADA classroom and a highly agitated young Professor behind them.

// Why don't you have a little revenge? //

Anders started in horror. The Inner Voice was back, and it sounded faintly amused, as though the scene that had just taken place had been arranged purely for its own entertainment.

"What do you mean...revenge?" began Anders, but found his eyes automatically drawn to the far end of the room, and the cage, where the fire demon was sleeping, snoring in a vaguely comical way, a small plume of smoke emitting from its nostrils every time it exhaled. "No..." he said, hesitantly. "There's...revenge and there's downright stupidity..."

// I'm not suggesting you do *anything* other than give them a little scare, Anders, now, am I? // the voice insisted, soothingly.

"I can't," replied the young man desperately fighting the urge to flick his wand into his hand. "I can't," he repeated, more firmly, backing up to the door.

// Anders, Anders, Anders. // The voice actually sounded as if it were truly disappointed in him, and there was something there...that he recognised. He was almost totally unaware of the fact that his wand was now in his hand and raised ready to cast the spell.

"...." he began, then his real self got a grip. "No!" he yelled, throwing his wand from him and backing up to the door. "I won't do it."

// Oh, you will, Anders, // the voice chuckled. // You do everything I want you to in the end. //

And he was alone again.