Shadow of a Doubt

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Chapter Twelve
Prisoner The fire in the Slytherin common room was finally out, but the Professors and Neville were exhausted. They had been joined at an opportune moment by Hagrid, who had carried a vast barrel of water into the room and physically dumped it over much of the blaze, lessening their task quite considerably.

"You did well, Neville," said Professor McGonagall to the weary boy, softly. Professor Vector nodded enthusiastically, and even Snape grunted his acknowledgement. Neville positively glowed with pride, despite feeling as though he would fall over at any moment.

Hagrid stroked his singed beard thoughtfully. "Anders ain't gonna be happy when he sees this damage," he said, looking around at the desecrated common room. Professor McGonagall looked up sharply.

"Where IS Anders?" she asked.

"I left 'im in my cottage," said the big man, carefully. "'e 'ad a bad night an' had come ter see me for a bit of a chat, like. I saw the blaze an' rushed over to help he was feelin' a bit poorly an' stayed."

"Convenient," murmured Snape. "Putting himself away from the main action." McGonagall shot him a look so full of venom that the Potions Master almost patted his pocked to see if he had the antidote.

"Where is the Headmaster?" she wondered aloud. "I'm very surprised he isn't here."

* * * * *

The Owlery was glowing orange from the presence of the fire demon. It crouched in a corner, making a strange noise that could be whimpering. The inert figure of Draco Malfoy lay in front of it, and it was this extraordinary tableau that met Anders Grimalkin's eyes as he slammed the Owlery door open.

The demon raised its hot-coal eyes to look at its master as he entered.

"Kill Draco Malfoy?" it said, in a whispery, feathery sort of voice. "Yes, master?"

"No," said Anders, his tone mild, but his heart pounding so hard he thought that the creature must surely hear it. "Don't kill him." His breath was coming in short gasps now. Being outside in next to no clothing, coupled with the exertions of racing up the steps to the Owlery had brought his delicate condition to something of a head. His lungs felt as though the demon had reached in through his back and clutched them in his fiery grip.

He leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath, then walked carefully to the prone figure of Draco Malfoy. Kneeling down beside the boy, he put fingers to his pulse and closed his eyes gratefully. It was light and fluttery, but it was there. Burns covered much of the boy's forearms and where the demon had touched his nightclothes, the fabric had burned away. He gathered Malfoy up in his arms and got slowly to his feet.

"You can't stay here," said Anders, wretchedly at the poor confused behemoth. "You know that I have to banish you now."

"Kill Draco Malfoy?" said the thing again, getting to its feet in a curious imitation of Anders. It pointed a finger at the figure in Anders' arms.

"No."

The firmness and conviction surprised even him. "I have to banish you."

"No, Anders."

The voice came from the door of the Owlery, and he turned, startled, to see Albus Dumbledore stood there, dressed in a Wee Willie Winky style nightshirt, complete with bed cap. "Uncle?"

"You must not banish the demon. To do so would violate your final chance of freedom. It is a forbidden thing to summon and banish elementals, you know that as well as I."

"What choice do I have?" Tears stood in the young man's bright blue eyes. "This demon did nothing wrong. It did what it was told nothing else."

"Why not simply use anti-elemental magic on it?" It was not really a question, because Albus Dumbledore understood Anders Grimalkin more than even the boy himself did.

Anders walked up to his great uncle and gently put Draco's body in his arms. "Because that would end its existence," he said, softly, but with great conviction. "And I do not wish to do that. I wish simply to send it back to where it belongs. It has done no wrong here. I have."

"Have you, my boy? Or do you know now who it is who has been doing all these terrible things?"

Anders stared at him.

"How do you "

"Do you know who it is who has been controlling you?"

"Yes, I believe so, but I "

At this moment, the demon decided it had had enough of the two humans talking incessantly and with an expression that could only be described as something like a cross between a leer and a scowl, began screaming at Anders in some strange language.

The young DADA professor snatched Dumbledore's wand from his hand and turned to face it. 

"Don't do this, Anders," said Dumbledore. "Let me do it. I am under no restriction "

"You are," said the boy between clenched teeth. "You aren't its master."

Screaming, the demon hurled a bolt of fire at the DADA professor, who took the missile squarely in the chest, but with a quick word of a spell, managed to put out the flames before any damage was done. 

"Anders "

"I have to do this."

* * * * *

And what of Harry, Ron and Hermione while all this excitement was going on? Gryffindor Tower, being the farthest from the excitement in Slytherin House was one of the last to hear about what was going on - which was why Neville had not appeared until later. 

The three friends arrived, strangely for them, long after the excitement was over. However, they were all pleased to discover that their quiet little friend Neville was apparently the hero of the hour.

"Where is Professor Grimalkin?" asked Hermione, softly. There was something altogether not right about this.

"That's the question everybody's asking, Miss Granger," said Snape, appearing like an angel of doom over her right shoulder. "Do you have any ideas at all where our errant DADA professor might be? After all, it's common knowledge that you seem to know him rather well."

Hermione bristled.

"I'm not his keeper, Professor Snape," she said, hotly. "I have no idea where he is."

"He's in the Owlery."

Albus Dumbledore stood in the doorway, looking old and tired, more so, perhaps than the students had ever seen him before. Snape looked up at the Headmaster and his eyebrows furrowed.
"Why the Owlery?"

"He can't leave," was the simple reply. "He is imprisoned in a time lock spell that will hold him until the Dementors arrive."

"The Dementors?" The word was echoed aloud by everyone present.

"Yes," said the Headmaster. "The Dementors will be here presently. Anders banished the fire demon before it could do any more damage, and in so doing has used up the power in his pendant. Once he cast that spell, he was then locked in time and will remain in the Owlery until he is returned to Azkaban."

"But Headmaster " Hermione felt tears coming to her eyes. "They can't do that. He saved the school!"

"Yes, Miss Granger, he did. He also saved Draco Malfoy from an unfortunate demise, but I am afraid the Ministry will not consider these things. Anders was released from Azkaban on conditions. He has broken the terms of those conditions, and the wheels of wizarding justice will be turning well this night."

"You aren't going to let them take him, are you?" said Ron, aghast. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Mild mannered Anders Grimalkin had barely survived his first spell in Azkaban. A second stay at the hotel for the dark and dangerous would most likely kill him.

"I cannot stop them, Mr Weasley," said Dumbledore. "I cannot stop them. I must now request that you all return to your rooms as swiftly as possible. I do not wish to inflict the Dementors on Hogwarts for longer than is absolutely necessary."

Ron and Harry accompanied a sobbing Hermione back to the Gryffindor common room, where they sat in stunned disbelief on the sofas. Ron chanced his luck and put a comforting arm around Hermione's shoulders, and she turned and sobbed into his dressing gown.

"He didn't do anything wrong," she wailed. "He was helping Draco!"

"But if the demon was let loose because of him in the first place maybe he and Draco had Words after dinner. You saw how they looked at each other," said Harry, thoughtfully.

Both Ron and Hermione turned to stare at him. "You don't really believe he's capable of inflicting that demon on the school on purpose, do you?" said Hermione, accusingly.

* * * * *

Anders was suddenly aware that he could move again. Control of his limbs was returned to him, the sensation bringing with it a thousand pins and needles. He yelped as he put his foot down, then steadied himself from falling. It was very disorienting.

"On your knees, Grimalkin," came a voice. "You know the drill, I believe."

His heart pounding painfully, Anders obeyed immediately and without question. He knew that sort voice, was familiar with the tone and - indeed, knew the drill. He lowered his head and held out his arms until he felt the magical bindings wrap around them. The pendant around his neck was a dull black in colour. It no longer shone, but was dim and nondescript.

Tears sprang to his eyes as he was jerked roughly to his feet by the Azkaban guard. It was then - and only then - that he lifted his head to meet the hooded stare of a Dementor.

"Please, no," he said, finally, after dragging his gaze away from the apparition. "I can't go back there. Don't make me go back there."

"You should have thought of that, Grimalkin," came the sneering response. "The Dementor is here to make sure you don't do anything else foolish before we get to the fortress."

"Where is my where is the Headmaster? Please, can I speak to him?"

The desperation in his voice was almost pitiful, and the guard sneered. "You may speak with him briefly whilst he signs the witness statement. But that's it. Then you're out of here, my friend."

Anders swallowed painfully. His lungs were still aching and he felt sick and weakened from his exertions. "The demon?" he asked, brokenly.

"Banished, Anders." Dumbledore was back in the Owlery, flanked by Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. The latter looked at Anders with something akin to satisfaction, and the young DADA teacher closed his eyes against the sight. The Headmaster crossed to him and embraced him swiftly. "It will be alright, my boy. Trust me. Dmitri has been advised, and we have evidence now. Remember what we were discussing before the demon attacked?"

Anders said nothing, but nodded.

"All you have to do is give me the name, Anders, and we will do the rest. Prove my theory."

"That's enough," snapped the guard angrily, pushing Anders away from Dumbledore. In his weakened state, the young man stumbled and fell. The Headmaster rounded on the guard furiously.

"You may behave like that in that accursed prison, sir, but in my school, you will conduct yourself with a modicum of decorum. Is that clear? I remember you, Darren Hoffer. You were a nasty little boy with the retention of a squashed grape and the intelligence to match. Do not mistreat this young man, or you will have me to answer to."

The guard, whose name was indeed Hoffer, cringed. He'd been terrified of Albus Dumbledore as a student and that hadn't gone away. "Yes, sir," he squeaked, pulling Anders to his feet, a little more gently. 

Professor Snape stepped in front of him.

"I know what you are, Grimalkin," he said, in a soft voice. "I always knew what you were. And what's going to happen to you "

"Enough, Severus," said Dumbledore, seeing fresh tears starting in Anders' eyes. "We will retire to discuss this. Anders - keep your chin up, my boy."

As the Dementor glided up to flank Anders and Hoffer, the young man turned briefly to his great uncle and mouthed four words.

* * * * *

Any joy that Albus Dumbledore might have felt at discovering his theory was correct was short lived. He called an emergency meeting of the Heads of Houses.

"With Grimalkin temporarily indisposed," he said, "the first order of business is to resume a certain level of normality within the school. Severus, you will take his classes, please."

The Potions Master inclined his head in acknowledgement. 

"Our second task," he said, "is to get together as much evidence as we can linking Dafydd Grimalkin to what has happened with Anders. Until tonight, I could only work on my suspicion that Anders' supposedly dead father is the one who has been behind his actions, but the boy himself confirmed it."

"But Dafydd Grimalkin was a Muggle, wasn't he?"

Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore exchanged glances. "Tell them, Severus," said Dumbledore softly.

"Dafydd Grimalkin was - is - we need to agree on a tense, Headmaster, this is most annoying. He IS a wizard. And his name is not Dafydd Grimalkin, either. It is Edward Gray. Gray attended Hogwarts as a student for two years. But he was so badly behaved and hungry for power, that he was expelled. He disappeared, and the Ministry lost trace of him."

"Why are you party to this information, Severus?" said McGonagall, coldly. "Why do none of the rest of us know?"

"We weren't sure," said the Headmaster. "When Anders started at the school, when a man named Dafydd Grimalkin made enquiries, we were suspicious immediately. I tracked his family history a little. And imagine my surprise to discover that his Muggle mother, Astrid, was distantly related to me. Anders is technically my great nephew. Many times removed, of course. So I took a personal interest in the boy."

"You digress, Headmaster," said Snape, smoothly picking up the narrative. "We watched Grimalkin closely during his first weeks here, and the Headmaster and I both commented independently on how similar he was in appearance to Gray."

"It was amazing how neither of us made that link," acknowledged the Headmaster. "But to all intents and purposes, we believed Gray to be dead."

Snape continued. "It was Hagrid who advised us of Grimalkin's missing shadow. Apparently, the boy had turned up on his doorstep looking for a confidante. Hagrid, in his usual capacity of picking up waifs and strays befriended the boy and even suggested he use the illusory shadow."

McGonagall nodded slowly. "This Edward Gray character," she said, slowly. "Am I right in assuming that you didn't like him, Severus?"

"I hated him. He was a bully and a liar. I'm rather afraid that I couldn't help taking out my animosity on Anders. He reminded me too much of his father. Apart from the overall attitude. But then that set me to thinking. Gray had been pure evil from head to foot. Why was Grimalkin, such a mild-mannered character put into Slytherin House? He was never suited to it. Apart from the temper, of course." Snape managed to sound mildly approving. "It was actually the temper that gave Gray away as far as I was concerned. Just comments he used that brought back memories."

Snape did not elaborate. Gray had, in fact, bullied him for the duration of the two years he'd attended the school.

"I reported my findings to the Headmaster, who investigated a little more and discovered that until the a year or so before Anders was born, there was no such person as Dafydd Grimalkin. Edward Gray met and married Astrid Anderssen, but under the pseudonym Grimalkin."

"And where does Anders fit into this?"

The Headmaster rubbed at his gritty eyes. "When Anders started displaying out of character behaviour, I first grew suspicious that Gray might have been using him for nefarious purposes. When Hagrid reported the loss of the shadow, my suspicions grew."

"There is a powerful dark arts spell that allows its caster to manipulate someone through possession of their shadow," explained Snape. McGonagall's eyes opened wide, as Snape elaborated. "Bereft of their shadow, the victim of the spell becomes pliant and can be used as a weapon for destruction or, as the Headmaster believes, a vessel for learning."

"That would explain why Anders never seemed to absorb anything he learned," said McGonagall, beginning to understand. "And why he would sometimes seem to be so very confused and not sure where he was oh, Headmaster, how do we PROVE something like this?"

"A rather special little spell that I've been holding back until I was almost positive," said the Headmaster, rather pompously. "It's a spell that will summon Anders' shadow to us."

McGonagall stared.

"How can that "

"How can a shadow be stolen in the first place, Minerva? It works in a similar way to demon summoning. If my theory is correct, we should discover something rather interesting. If my theory is wrong "

"Yes?" prompted McGonagall, horrifed at the look on Dumbledore's face.

"If my theory is wrong, and Anders' shadow isn't in the possession of Edward Gray it will most likely kill him."

There was a long silence, then Snape spoke up.

"Think of the alternative, Minerva. If we don't try this, to prove Anders is innocent, he will be subjected to the Dementor's Kiss. This fate may, at least, prove merciful. I have spent the entire term trying to goad Gray into making one fatal error, to prove to the Headmaster and myself that our theory is correct, but he is clever, too clever. This is the only way."

McGonagall bit her lip. She was rather fond of the young Professor. He was quiet and shy, even sweet, and the thought of him having to undergo the Dementor's Kiss

"Then we try," she agreed. "We try."

"No trying, Minerva. We can't make a mistake on this one. This will be one of the most powerful spells you will ever be likely to cast. It needs three wizards to recite the incantation. Obviously Severus and myself are going to be part of this - it is up to you whether you want the stain of the Dark Arts on your hands."

"I don't think it's a question," said McGonagall primly. "Of course I will help."

"Very well," said Dumbledore getting to his feet. "First thing tomorrow morning."