The Face of Evil

'I'm a what?' Harry exclaimed his eyes taking a confused look.

'You have the potential to be a mage warrior,' Dumbledore said, laying emphasis on potential. 'It would be better that I showed you, not just tell you.'

He led Harry to the wall on the right hand side. The wall was divided into four parts, each with one house symbol. An assortment of weapons was stuck to the wall under each symbol. Dumbledore moved to Gryffindor House's part. He opened a case and took out a sword.

'I'm sure you remember this,' said Dumbledore with a smile.

How could I forget, thought Harry. Lord Gryffindor's sword, the same one he had pulled out from the sorting hat. It was polished, not covered in grime and dust.

The hilt had a single emerald embedded in it, the blade shone as if radiating light and power. It's breathtakingly beautiful thought Harry spellbound.

'Can I hold it?' he asked his hand nervously shaking.

'Not yet, there are a few things you must know before I can give you the sword,' said Dumbledore placing the sword back into the case.

Give me the sword? Harry's heart leapt, he dare not think about it, Gryffindor's Sword!

'Sit down Harry,' Dumbledore conjured up two chairs, 'this will be a long history lesson,' he said as he sat down. Harry did the same.

'Since time it self started, there were six elements: earth, fire, water, wind, life and magic. These elements evolved over the years creating the universe and its inhabitants. All wizards are a binding of life and magic together. The very first wizards who walked the earth had magic in them so pure, that they did not require a wand to use it. Spells were an unknown thing and magic was directed by intent, thought and concentration. I'm sure you have heard of genes, they carry the body's structural information from one generation to the next.'

'As the genes of these initial wizards began to dilute and dissipate, gradually the magic abilities decreased to a point where there was no difference, between so called pure-bloods and muggle-borns that had mutated genes,' he continued. 'The use of wands or other objects to concentrate magic began to be used.'

'There are no known ways of genetically changing the body to induce magical properties. However, some people have a predisposition to become more powerful wizards and witches. It is something one is born with, like intelligence. Others can achieve this state with practicing powerful magic, but it is very difficult.'

'The early warriors, who had such a predisposition for magical power or had achieved that state, were able to concentrate magic through their hands using the bone as the conductor and their own blood as the core. They created weapons and devices, which would compliment their magic powers; these warriors were known as the Mage Warriors,' he said, 'the ability to be one is genetically passed down. There are only three known people who have this power as of current, Voldemort, you and me. The art of achieving the mage power through great use of magic has been lost in time. We have this power as being the descendants of those who had achieved the great power. I am the descendant of Merlin.'

He stared at Dumbledore in shock. This was more than just a history lesson; it was revelation. What is he trying to say?

'Since you will get the power by being a descendant your genes will have to be activated,' Dumbledore said somberly.

'How will I do that?' asked Harry.

'You will have to practice the mage arts; already you have some of the power. It will grow until the threshold is reached, and then you will be able to access all your powers. Voldemort achieved his potential just before he graduated. He will by now have already recovered his abilities.'

'I can do magic without a wand?' he asked incredulously hoping against hope that he was correct.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, 'only simple spells and charms for now. You will have to practice and train until you can use this power.'

'The art of making Mage Weapons is long lost. We, therefore have to make do with the weapons that have already been created. Each weapon that is created for a Mage Warrior is bound to him/her with blood; only they can use the weapon's true power. I have Merlin's sword and staff; Voldemort has Slytherin's Sword and staff. You currently have Gryffindor's sword. All three of us can use the Mage Shields, which do not have any offensive properties. The weapons find their masters on their own. If you observe the wall of the three houses, the descendants of the other two founders have not been found, nor have their weapons.'

He took out a golden knuckle set and wore it on his left hand. He closed his eyes and grasped Gryffindor's sword and it began to glow golden. Dumbledore raised the knuckles and a shield of pure magic appeared in front of him. It had a purple tinge to it with sparks gently caressing its round borders.

'The weapons are connected to you, they function and exist as an extension of your body,' saying that, Dumbledore raised his hand (the shield hand) and cut the sword in an arc. A jet of purple light shot out of it and hit one of the targets setup in the training room, it exploded on contact. 'This, however, means that the strength of the weapon depends on your health, and any toll on the weapon shall reflect in you. The spells themselves will take on a unique color that reflects your personality.'

Harry's mouth by this time was opening and closing like that of a goldfish.

Dumbledore tapped his knuckles and the shield disappeared. But the gold knuckles still rest on his hands.

'If you accept Lord Gryffindor's sword, you also accept the destiny that goes with it. You will have to avenge Lord Gryffindor, the sword will thirst and demand it,' said Dumbledore.

Harry gulped as realization set it. 'I have to challenge Voldemort.'

'Yes, but you needn't worry about that in the present. You have still to be trained as a Mage Warrior. It may be several years before you achieve that degree of proficiency,' he said smiling.

'We have an assortment of weapons and tools that can be used by all Mages, but nothing will be as powerful or able as your own Mage Weapon,' Dumbledore said. 'Finally Harry, do you accept the sword and oath of the mage. Remember and realize the responsibility that goes with it.'

Harry thought for a moment, and then with determination entering his voice. 'Yes!'

Dumbledore raised his hand; the sword of Gryffindor flew into it.

'I, Albus Dumbledore, decedent of the great Merlin, bestow this Mage sword, to its rightful owner,' he said aloud.

He laid the sword in both his hands and offered it to Harry. Harry picked up the sword at the hilt. Suddenly it began to glow with a brilliant light, which blinded both the occupants of the room and then dimmed to a steady red glow.

'A mage need not say any incantation when using weapons and tools, however he must say it when using his hands for magic,' Dumbledore said.

'Enough excitement for one day Harry,' said Dumbledore, 'I think you need time to get adjusted to all these new ideas. I will take you back up, but remember you cannot tell anyone about being a Mage Warrior. You can however, tell Hermione and Ron about the training room, but they cannot come here, not yet. Leave the sword here, your training in its use will begin in a few days.'

Dumbledore and Harry walked back up to the Headmaster's office. Harry then took leave of Dumbledore and headed outside.

Harry exited the Gargoyle gate, and moved on. Suddenly, he stopped. There was a figure huddled on the ground in the hallway. He moved ahead carefully to see who or what it was.

'Oh! My God! Its Hermione!' he said aloud shaking her.

'Hermione, Hermione,' he said frantically, thinking that something must be wrong.

'Harry, go back to sleep,' she said with a grumble. Harry stood back and smiled.

Realisation of what she said must have dawned on, as her eyes quickly shot open. 'Harry! Where am I?'

'Hallway in front of Dumbledore's office.' he said still grinning. 'What are you doing here?'

'Waiting for you what else,' she looked at her watch, 'you were gone four hours!'

Harry helped her up.

'Has it really been that long?' Harry said astonished, 'time really flew.'

Before he could say anything more, Hermione pulled him into a deep kiss. He got over the initial surprise and began to kiss back. His hands moved to caress her back, stroking slowly up and down. Being kissed by Hermione was like being electrocuted, in a good way. A few meters away Ron Weasley came into the hallway to find Harry and Hermione, Hermione to be specific. They had had a small fight on whether to wait for Harry or not. Hermione had won, revealing Ron to slink off grumbling. The sight that greeted his eyes stopped him dead in his tracks.

It was a good thing Harry and Hermione didn't look up, or they would have seen a look of pure jealousy, hatred and anger.

The implications of the scene, and the look on Ron's face were not lost on Mr. D. Malfoy, who chose to cross the corridor at that time.

'Well, well, well Potty and the mud-blood, my deductions earlier were right, sleeping together are we?' he smirked at them. While they did not hear him, his presence was felt and the engaged duo quickly separated.

An enraged Ron shouted at Malfoy, 'you take that back!'

Malfoy gave an evil grin, leaned in close to Ron and said, 'what's wrong, Weasel, best friend doing it with your girl?' he said in a voice full of pity and contempt.

Loosing his control completely Ron lunged at Malfoy, who neatly sidestepped,

leaving Ron to hit the floor with a sickening thud.

'Better luck next time weasel,' he said walking away as if nothing had happened. Hermione and Harry ran to check Ron, while giving dark looks towards Malfoy as he strolled past leisurely.

'Ron, are you alright?' Hermione said with concern in her voice.

Ron groaned and got up slowly with the help of Harry and Hermione.

'Where is that slimy git?' he said through gritted teeth his pride hurting more than his back.

'He's not worth it Ron,' said Harry desperately trying to calm him down.

'My head,' he said, 'it hurts like hell.'

'Come on,' said Hermione, 'let's get you to the common room.'

The trio hobbled their way through the hall towards the Gryffindor common room. The only thought that remained in Ron's mind was that the slimy git was right.

Hospital Wing Special Ward

Dumbledore arrived through the secret passage that connected his office with the Hospital Wing.

'Headmaster,' said Severus Snape who was still in bed. Severus Snape made an effort to get up, but ceased when Dumbledore waved off the action.

'How are you feeling Severus?' said the headmaster gently, his eyes filled with worry.

'Ready to go back to teaching,' he replied a smile crossing his face.

'I'm sorry Severus, Poppy wants to keep you here for a week, and then your expertise is required elsewhere,' he said solemnly.

'I understand Headmaster, who is my replacement?' he asked.

'Miss Rachael Sewensky has joined us for a year,' Dumbledore said with a sudden smile.

'Rachael Sewensky, where have I heard that name?' Snape said as he tried to recollect.

Then it hit him.

'Oh! No, no,' he croaked, 'not her, why does it have to be her!'

Dumbledore was clearly amused; Snape of course knew the answer to his own question. Then, a very upset Madam Pomfrey charged into the ward.

'Headmaster, what are you doing to my patient!' she said pushing aside Dumbledore and heading towards what she perceived as a very distressed patient.

'He's alright Poppy,' said Dumbledore, trying to regain his hearing, 'just a mild shock.'

Madam Pomfrey checked him over twice, satisfied that nothing had worsened; she then stalked of giving Dumbledore a very grimy stare.

'You did this on purpose, didn't you?' grumbled Snape after he regained his composure.

'No, Severus I did not. She is probably one of the best potions students Hogwarts has seen,' said Dumbledore. 'Why, she was your favorite pupil,' he added with a sly grin.

'Was,' Snape snarled.

Just then three figures came rushing in.

'So, he knows,' giggled Arabella seeing Snape's face.

Dumbledore nodded his head.

'Poor Poor little Snapey,' said Sirius looking as if all his dreams had come true.

Snape turned a deep shade of purple and gave Sirius an I-will-kill-you-with-my-bare-hands look.

'I haven't the entire story only, bits and pieces,' commented Lupin, 'Severus, if you don't mind, could you fill me in?'

Snape sighed, he was sick and defeated. Might as well tell them he thought. No need for them to jump to conclusions.

He started 'It was years ago, when...

'Yay!' Sirius shouted, acting like a small child, 'story!'

He went and sat next to Snape on the bed and gave him a quick hug.

This was too much for Snape. Struggling to remain in control (while the entire room was howling in laughter) he gave his best gritted-teeth angry look, trying to avoid punching Sirius Black.

'Competition!' said Sirius in his child-mimicked voice.

He converted into his dog form and bared his teeth at Snape.

Arabella said, 'stop it you two', tears of laughter streaming down her cheek.

Sirius converted back and stepped out of Snape's face. The room took sometime to come back to normal.

'Severus, you were saying,' attempted Arabella.

Snape jus looked at her crossly.

'Alright, alright I sawwy,' said Sirius, 'better?'

Snape knew he could not win, he continued with his tale.

'Miss. Sewensky, was one of the best potions students I had the pleasure of teaching. In her fifth year attempting to encourage her, I was a little harsh on her,' he said.

'You told her she would probably fail,' chuckled Dumbledore.

'Whatever, so she went on a crusade to prove me wrong, which was the desired outcome. Unfortunately or fortunately-depends on how you think about it-she broke my standing Hogwarts record for owls in Potions,' he finally managed to say.

'She got more owls than you in Potions?' said Sirius. The gathering in the room was impressed; Severus Snape was considered among the best potion masters in the world.

'Yes, yes she did. In her sixth year to prove he point she stopped addressing me as Professor and called me Snape to my face,' he groaned. The room chuckled.

'I tried my level best to discourage her. But, she used to make those incredible puppy dog eyes, that would make even Satan melt. Yet, there are only so many points I could take from my own house, before I finally gave up on her. When she left I held a private celebration party.'

'Ah, those were good times' said Dumbledore blinking his eyes.

'Now she's back!' he said his eyes red. 'And it's his entire fault,' pointing at Dumbledore.

The room was engulfed in half attempts to contain laughter.

Potion's Teacher's Office:

Rachael was still smiling as she sat down. But the smile flew from her face as she saw a golden medallion on her desk. I thought I put that in, she said to herself. The memories came rushing back. The medallion had been a gift from her father on her tenth birthday, the same year You-know-who met his downfall. She remembered that fateful day as if it was yesterday.

The entire family (father, mother, Rachael) was sitting around the dinning table. Her father had that twinkle in his eye. (For some reason she thought, I always remember him that way) She was about to blow the candles on her cake, when an explosion rocked, the house.

Thinking it was You-know-who, her mother quickly took her from the chair and the three silently tried to leave from the secret entrance they had built for this very purpose. But, they were too late. Someone shouted, 'there he is!' and five men entered the room. They were not death eaters.

'Mr. Sewensky, I, Bartemius Crouch, in the name of the Ministry arrest you for being a Death Eater, a supporter of You-know-who.'

'Sir, that cannot be, I am just a shopkeeper, I have nothing to do with You-know-who!' said Mr. Sewensky weakly.

Her mother started crying.

'Don't worry, sweetheart,' said her father, 'it's just a mix up; my name will be soon cleared, at the trial. Stay here and take care of Rachael, contact Janus, he will help me.'

The men, cuffed him, and led him off.

There was no trial, she remembered bitterly. They sent him straight to Azkaban without even checking for the Dark Mark on his arm. Her mother fought and fought, but to no avail, the Ministry would not listen. A year later, Rachael came into Hogwarts as the daughter of a convicted Death Eater.

The memories were too painful to continue, the shame, the taunts and the harassment flooded back into her mind. Her father died in Azkaban a broken man in her third year; she was not allowed to see his body, her mother ensured that.

She shook her head, no sense in dwelling on the past. The future must be taken care of, keeping the past in mind. She opened a drawer and locked the medallion in.

Ron lay on his bed, the headache he had slowly leaving him. Harry had left to meet Hermione. Probably to finish off what they had started, he thought with mixed emotions. Gradually he drifted off to sleep.

Ron Weasley

Ron opened his eyes to see an exact copy of himself.

'Hello,' said the copy, in a friendly manner.

'Who, who are you?' Ron stuttered.

'I, Ron, am your inner being,' the copy replied.

'My what?' Ron asked.

'The person who is supposed to give you advice,' the Inner Being said.

'Oh!' said Ron, 'what do you want?'

'Well, you are in a soup, you love Hermione, Hermione loves Harry,' he said.

Ron sat down and put his head in his hands. 'It's much more complicated than that,' Ron said finally.

'I know,' the Inner Being said. 'Now, how do you plan to rectify the situation?'

'I really don't know,' Ron said. 'How do I get Hermione to love me?'

'Love Potion,' came the reply immediately.

'But those are illegal,' he stuttered.

'Exactly.'

The dream vanished and Ron continued to sleep peacefully.

That same old castle in Scotland

Lucius Malfoy entered the throne room with a spring in his step. The news he had brought was fantastic.

He approached the dark lord and kneeled.

'What is it Malfoy?' Lord Voldemort said with a hiss.

'My Lord, excellent news, there is a possibility to convert someone at Hogwarts, someone who has complete access to the Potter boy,' Malfoy, said, daring to look above shoe level, but only an inch.

'Who is this and why do they wish to join us?' Voldemort said, with some interest.

'My lord...'

Slytherin Boys Dormitories 5^th Year:

Draco Malfoy sat alone in the dormitory, reading a letter from his father. The Dark Lord wished him to keep a track of Harry Potter's movements and try to find out as much about a society called 'The Order of the Phoenix' as possible.

He raised the sleeve of his robe and saw the Dark Mark there. The Dark Lord had decided to start a Junior Death Eater movement during the summer vacations. He had met a large number of Slytherin house members. He smiled at the shocked faces, as everyone realized that they had all chosen the Dark Lord over Dumbledore. Even the reluctant now walked with pride. They all felt safe in numbers.

The Dark Lord knew the need for secrecy, hence the new dark mark was only visible to fellow death eaters, and others could see it only if the marked person wished to show. All the death eaters were remarked with the new mark, to ensure that the dissidents would be cut out of the loop. This posed a greater problem for the Aurors as previously the dark mark was the simplest test, they would be denied even that.

A new feature of the mark enabled Master to cast spells and curses over any death eater, by simply touching one of the marks and thinking of their names. Draco shuddered, who knows what else the mark could do?

Hogwarts Warrior Training Hall a.k.a HQ 'Order of the Phoenix'

'The Dark Lord has finally learnt from his mistakes,' Dumbledore addressed the small gathering. 'With the start of his new dark mark, we have lost almost our entire espionage ring.'

'What's wrong exactly?' asked Sirius.

'The dark lord can now see and hear what each death eater is doing, and can even cast spells over them through his connection. Firstly, no one wishes to talk, as there is a high chance that the dark lord maybe listening in. Secondly, we can no longer guarantee the safety of death eaters who turn as we still don't have a method to remove the mark and the connection,' said Snape.

'This is a serious set back' said Arabella. 'It the last two encounters we've had with the Death Eaters, Voldemort was able to heal and guide them via the dark mark. Usually most death eaters are inexperienced and foolish, but no longer does that hold true, especially with the new crop.'

'So, what are our options?' said Sirius, the strain clearly visible on his face.

'Well we could make a light mark enabling us to do the same,' said Remus.

There was a universal nod of accent.

'I will make preparations and arrangements,' said Dumbledore. He knew this would not be as easy as it sounded. Marks were highly specialised and dangerous. The magic involved was powerful and had serious side effects.

'What about Ministry recognition of Voldemort?' asked Snape.

'Fudge refuses to believe that Voldemort is back. Slowly, the entire ministry is turning against him, as more and more people awaken to the truth. But, by the time he changes his ways, it may be too late,' said Mr. Weasley, a new member of the order.

'What if Fudge is a death eater?' said Arabella, 'we must consider, the possibilities.'

The entire group looked at her horrified. The Minister of Magic, a death eater? The very thought sent chills down their spines.

'Arabella has a point,' Dumbledore said. 'Fudge tomorrow, will release a list of Azkaban escapees, most of them are still in their cells.'

'I did not want it to come down to this, but the Minister has forced my hand,' said Dumbledore. 'All those in favor of removing the protection the Order of the Phoenix has put on Fudge raise your hands, please remember he will not last a day without our wards. He does not even know of them.'

'Surely Headmaster, that is a slight drastic!' exclaimed Mr. Weasley. 'That is equal to murder!'

'How many must die for the ignorance of Fudge?' said Snape his voice cold and flat, 'how many?'

Arthur Weasley opened his mouth to reply but no words came.

'We are at war here, face the consequence!' said Snape.

'Severus!' exclaimed Arabella.

'He's right,' said a somber Sirius, 'though I hate to admit it.'

'Unfortunately, Arthur, it is times like these we must make the most difficult decisions, I hoped there would be another way. If Voldemort supports Fudge he will not die, but if he doesn't he will. The test is shocking, but time binds our hands.'

Dumbledore turned to look at the table.

'All those who agree to take of the protection wards off the Minister of Magic raise their hands,' said Dumbledore.

Every hand except that of Arthur Weasley went up.

'The motion passes,' said Dumbledore not commenting.

5^th Year Dormitories Gryffindor House

Harry sneaked in at midnight, trying desperately not to make any noise. There was a silly smile on his face he could not get rid of. The day had been great for him, the new revelations, and his new power, Hermione.

He took of his glasses and lay down to sleep. The events of the past hour replayed in his mind, his face broke out into a blushed smile as he hugged his pillow to sleep.

The room in the house was small. He looked around, a child's room. There were drawings and sketches on the wall and the bed was littered with stuffed toys.

'Ah! Harry, I was wondering when you would go to bed, I have been waiting for you,' said a voice.

Harry quickly turned, 'Voldemort'. Voldemort never answered.

'Unfortunately, I cannot see you, nor can I hear you, but I know you can hear and see me; therefore I have prepared some entertainment for your benefit. You see I have found out the connection between us, and I am forewarned when the connection will occur. In-fact, I can make it occur!' he said, something vaguely resembling a smile crossed his battered gnarled face. 'Behold.'

He pointed to a small girl lying shaking in the corner. Harry's eyes opened wide with shock.

'This is Anne York,' he said, 'say hello to Harry Anne.' The little girl whimpered.

Voldemort chuckled. 'Anne, will get her Hogwarts letter in a few months, then she will come and study along with all of you, maybe even in Gryffindor. Anne loves to play with her stuffed toys and her passions include painting,' Voldemort explained as if introducing her to Harry. He pointed at some of the pictures that hung around the room.

'But, you must be entertained,' Voldemort sighed.

Carnificina Os Totalus...

The little girl started to scream. Harry tried to close his eyes, but there were none to close.

'Her bones and beginning to grow, without the rest of her body,' Voldemort said pleasantly.

The girl continued to scream and scream, Harry tried to look away, but there was no head to turn. He tried to scream, but there was no mouth to scream from.

There was a snapping sound.

'Her legs have just snapped; the muscles and ligaments broken.'

She went into a seizure, her body grotesque in extreme shapes, but her innocent face was still intact, her eyes pleading at Harry for mercy. 'Mummy,' she whispered between screams.

'There goes her spinal cord, she will never stand again.'

The girl's body lifted in a strange arc, the screams continuing to emerge.

'Now her chest and hands are breaking apart, each nerve and blood vessel bursting one, by one with the tension you hear them individually if you make the effort, an orchestra of delight.'

Suddenly the screaming stopped; the girl lay down dead, blood oozing out from the pores of her skin. Her face eerily preserved reflecting the moonlight that shone through the window.

'That was fast!' Voldemort said apparently disappointed, 'I expected a longer show.'

'No matter Harry, next time we will arrange a longer and better spectacle,' said Voldemort. 'I hope you were entertained.'

Harry was in shock. His mouth tried to form the words for a reply, but his body was not responding. After a second or two, he let out a scream of pure anguish. His eyes opened- he was back in the dorm.

No one had heard his scream. He curled up into a ball, and began to shake uncontrollably.