A Matter of Malevolence

Part Five

Down here in the dungeons, there were no sounds from outside. No voices shouting or people playing, no practice spells or accidental explosions. He couldn't even hear the wind in the trees or the water lapping the shores of the lake. It was a hollow, damp kind of quiet that Severus both craved and feared, and in the wake of his strange and stressful day, he wanted to hide in it forever.

Severus was berating himself. He was very good at it. He'd had a lot of practice, and any refinement that skill required had been provided by those around him many years ago. Right now, however, this particular act of self-recrimination needed no outside help.

"Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID," he snarled, pacing in his room before flinging himself onto his bed and hitting the mattress with both fists. "What's wrong with you? What, the painting was going to come after you or something? IDIOT."

Idiot; he felt that summed his behavior up very nicely. He'd had no good reason to run from the portrait, never mind the swirling, bubbling darkness and the raw authority projected by Veneficus. It was painted authority. It wasn't real. He'd just run like a child from something that wasn't even real.

Ugh.

Well, he would simply have to go back and face it, that was all. Go and have a few more words with that strangely unpleasant man, ask him what happened with the Ravenclaw students, maybe ask him about the grimoire. Threaten? Well; maybe he could do that, too. He was certainly capable of setting the canvas on fire, if nothing else came to mind. Anything would be better than sitting in here like a fearful child.

Rising from his bed, he nodded at Widdershins who passed him on his way out the door and headed for the stairs. He had the funny idea that it would be better to try with the second, smaller portrait downstairs, by the medical wing, rather than the one that had yelled at him. Eh; it could do no harm to try.

The suit of armor was still in the hall. "Better wash your hair, sonny," it advised this time, but Severus ignored it. Down, to the left, and toward the next corner - no moving staircases to bother with. No other students. No teachers - no ghosts, which was always a good thing. One more turn, and -

Someone was already at the portrait.

Severus froze. There, before Power to Rule the World, was the oldest Quester. The boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen years old, who'd been brought into the medical wing the night before with some sort of heavy injury. He didn't honestly look as though he should be up and about now, either.

Montgomery stood and gazed at the painting, a look of raw fury on his face. Somehow, that expression exacerbated the paleness of his features, the messiness of his hair, the stark whiteness of the bandages on his arm.

Bandages? Smethwyck hadn't been able to actually cure what ailed him?

"You won't get away with it," growled Montgomery. "I'm on to you - you and your stupid twin upstairs. You think you know what you're doing, but you don't, and by the time I'm done - "

Veneficus did not move; neither did the dark shadow behind him, but somehow, Montgomery suddenly knew he was being watched. Turning his head sharply, he scowled into the gloom.

"Who's that? Who's there? Peeves, if that's you..." He took his wand out.

Severus hunched.

"I see you there," Montgomery threatened, and took a step.

Severus didn't want to be cursed. He spent enough time being cursed as it was, and wasn't eager to see what an older student could come up with. "No! No, it isn't Peeves, it's just... ah, it's just me." Severus said quickly, his hands up. "Um," he said, and then stared.

Head on, Montgomery looked mad. Really, truly mad. There were dark rings under his eyes, and his lips were pulled back in a rictus over his teeth. Severus could barely believe this was the same robust boy he'd spied on in the library barely two weeks ago.

Montgomery's wand was still pointed at him.

"I'll just be going now," tried Severus, but Montgomery snarled.

"Don't even think about it," he growled. "You're a Slytherin. I know that look. What did you hear? What did you see?"

Hear? See? Fuck. "Um... I don't know. I just..." lie, lie, he had to lie. "I just walked up here, and..."

"Why? WHY were you here?" Montgomery snapped.

"I was just - "

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" screamed Montgomery, and Severus panicked.

"That portrait... I wanted to see the portrait, that's all, that's all!" Severus cried, horrified at himself for telling the truth but unable to think of anything else that might prevent the rapidly destabilizing Montgomery from attacking him.

The Ravenclaw stared at him. "What? The portrait?" He looked up at the portrait, then back at the small boy. "You look like him. You're one of his children, aren't you?" he suddenly accused, pointing.

The portrait, for its part, did nothing. Severus, on the other hand, began to think he'd made a big mistake.

"Accio student!" Montgomery suddenly cried, and Severus abruptly found himself flying through the air. He had time to cry out only once, and then Montgomery's pugnus capto froze Severus in the air as though he'd hit a brick wall. Pain shocked his body as the feeling of a giant hand caught and closed tightly around him; his breath left.

"Ha ha ha!" laughed Montgomery triumphantly, and turned toward the portrait. "You see? You SEE? I have your seed! I have your child! Do as I say or you lose him tonight!" Still trying to regain his air, Severus looked up at the portrait of Venficus Princeps.

Veneficus - in every inch the same as in the portrait two floors above - inspected them idly, as if for the life of him he did not care. A slow smile quirked the corners of his cruel, thin lips.

"Is this the best you can do, Montgomery? Because the last I checked, this little sperm-wipe was so poor a representative of my family line that I would gladly sacrifice him to keep your grubby hands off my treasure."

Severus was beginning to see stars. Whatever spell Montgomery had used was suffocating, holding him effortlessly in the air - and that voice. Veneficus... he was the same as the one upstairs? But he couldn't be! They were two different portraits - they just had the same repertoire of insults, that was all, that was all -

"Don't say that," whispered Montgomery, looking completely insane. "You won't think that when I tear him to pieces."

"Don't!" Severus tried to say, but he could not. That fist holding him, the fist, it was over his mouth, over his chest, over his whole body and he could not MOVE -

"I already think that," replied Veneficus calmly. "I saw him upstairs. He was a pitiful little shit-producing waste then, and he's a pitiful little shit-producing waste now. Do whatever you like. The fact that THAT creature bears my name is almost enough to make me want to give up the ghost completely." And he smiled as though making a joke.

Severus stared.

"RAAH!" Montgomery abruptly cried, and with a flick of his wand flung Severus away from him and into the far wall. "Give it to me! Give it to me! I've been looking for seven years and YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME!" And he pounded his fist against the portrait.

There was a flash. No; not a flash - something dark, as if the opposite of lightning filled the hall, blinding Severus in its brilliant black. He blinked wildly, rubbing his eyes, and when he could see again, he was alone.

Alone. Where did Montgomery go?

Wincing, Severus stood up. He was bruised; this was such a strange turn of events he didn't know what to make of any of it, and as of this point, he was incapable of reacting. Montgomery was gone; Veneficus was smirking at him. Severus stared back.

"Run away, little boy," Veneficus soothed in a warm, seductive baritone, "or face the fate your idiot older schoolmate has. And if you do... no one will be able to help you."

Montgomery was still gone, and Severus knew he was in over his head. Turning on his heel, he hurried down the hall and toward the stairs. Yes, the stairs; because he had to see, HAD to know right now if the portrait upstairs knew what the one downstairs had done.

He knew there could be multiple portraits of a person, of course there could; but how could the one know what the other did? Surely they did not - they were not the same. They couldn't be. Breathless, he tripped over the top step and stumbled into the third floor hallway, turned the corner, and -

...what the HELL...

Dumbledore, seated and comfortable, looked up from the chess game he was apparently playing with nobody in front of Veneficus' portrait and smiled. "Hello, Mr. Snape," he said.

This was too much. On top of everything else, this was too much. "You...but... what... was he here the whole time?" Severus finished weakly, and pointed at the portrait.

Veneficus was off the horse. Both potions were on the "ground" behind him, and he was sitting quite casually with his legs crossed at the portrait's edge. "I thought you ran away," he said mildly, and looked at the headmaster. "Knight to G4, if you please."

"Of course, Veneficus - ah. You are clever," murmured Dumbledore, and tapped the board once with his wand. The knight - a battered, old looking piece - actually blew a rasberry at him before moving.

"How rude," commented Dumbledore.

Severus was beginning to think he was dreaming this whole mess. "What are you doing?" he asked stupidly, unable to think of anything else. Veneficus had seen him run away; Veneficus knew -

"Why, playing chess, of course!" said Dumbledore happily. "I'd invite you to join, but alas... it's only good for two people." He shook his head in apparent remorse.

Severus bit back the urge to inform the headmaster how insane he apparently was. "I can see that. I mean... what are you doing with my ancestor?" He bit his lower lip. "I mean - " before anyone could be sarcastic. "Was Veneficus here the whole time?"

Dumbledore looked vaguely startled. "I should hope so, or I've been hallucinating. Have I been hallucinating, Veneficus?"

"Always," Veneficus replied. "You're a blundering old fool with a fondness for individuals that blinds you to the needs of the whole. You spend your entire life hallucinating."

"There you are, then," said Dumbledore cheerfully, and moved a piece on the board.

Severus was silent.

Veneficus glared at him. "Why is that still here? Get it away, Dumbledore, or I shall not continue playing with you."

"Then I win by default!" said Dumbledore cheerily; but Veneficus stood. Apparently, he meant it.

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Snape," he said to Severus. "If you wish to stay, then do so by all means; but I fear Veneficus is going to continue to be tetchy with you."

"Tetchy?" repeated Severus dully.

"Tetchy," said Dumbledore, and looked quite serious.

Veneficus spat on the painted ground.

"...right, then," said Severus with a vague sort of tone, and turning on his heel, marched back down the hall.

Absolutely none of that had made sense. Montgomery was gone; just... plain gone. He should have said something, told the headmaster - but surely if Veneficus and he played chess on a regular basis, then... no, that didn't necessarily mean he'd know anything. Montgomery was GONE. Veneficus knew about it - maybe Smethwyck knew something, or...

Severus groaned. Every part of his body was aching; his mind ached, as though his brain had been bruised, and all of his thoughts were jumbled. For the life of him, he could think of nothing to do now. He couldn't find Montgomery. He could, perhaps, go back and tell Dumbledore that Montgomery had disappeared... but that risked showing his own involvement in the Quest, however distantly, and that was a very unwise idea. He needed to do something. He needed to tell someone. He couldn't do anything about that bit himself; and Veneficus was... frightening.

What he needed was someone with the ability to deal with this situation without ratting him out. Severus bit his lower lip; one person was coming to mind. Just one. One person he did not, would not, could not want to speak to. One person who had made it clear he was available to BE spoken to.

"Damn it all to hell," murmured Severus. "I won't go talk to Malfoy. I won't. Fuck the whole world, I won't." And with that, he stalked through the common room and to his own bed with every intention of staying there the rest of the night.

He did.

---

It was Sunday, and Severus didn't want to move.

Bruises, he felt, had replaced all of his skin stealthily during the night. The slightest shift of his muscles acquainted him with pain in new places, and for a long time after he awoke, he couldn't move at all.

One by one, the other students in his room left. Only one tried to speak to him.

"Hey. Can I borrow your notes for - " began Avery, and Severus - still prone - took his head off.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" he snarled at the ceiling, and was quite pleased when Avery yipped and ran accordingly. Now, that was power; to be able to send someone running from you with a word. Like Veneficus, in fact. Why, Severus had managed to terrify (or perhaps merely annoy, but that wasn't nearly as flattering) his entire dorm room to the point that all of them left him alone! Surely that was a smashing success!

He tried to sit up. The muscles in his stomach immediately informed him this was a bad idea; groaning, he tried to roll off the bed instead. In that, he succeeded; cold stone met his knees, and he grunted. What had Montgomery DONE to him? Whatever it was, he would get through it. He would. Gritting his teeth and gripping the mattress, he tried to stand up.

Oh, gods; the muscles in his legs, in his back, all of them were aching. Breathing carefully, he kept himself balanced. He could do this, he could do this, he could -

His left leg cramped up from toe to thigh, and with a small cry, Severus fell back to the floor.

It was pain like he'd never known, ringing with tension - gripping his leg, nearly sobbing, he twisted on the floor; desperate, he hit his leg, but it didn't help. Help; he needed help. He needed -

"Relaxo."

Severus body went limp. The sudden cessation of pain throughought his body, especially his left leg, left him nearly dizzy, but he didn't care. He didn't even care who had helped him. Footsteps approached, quietly.

"So what did you do to yourself today, Severus?" a soft voice murmured, and then the tickling ends of long, soft hair brushed his face as someone knelt over him. Not someone, Malfoy; Malfoy had come in here to find him.

"Fuggoff," Severus attempted to tell him, but could barely murmur it. The pain was gone; oh, it was gone.

"Not now, thanks," said Lucius, and picked him up.

Severus tried to stiffen, but the relaxation spell was still in effect, and he could not. That was okay. That was okay. The pain wasn't there.

Lucius put him into his bed. "When you didn't show up at breakfast, I thought perhaps you'd been attacked again. It looks as though I was right - you do attract negative attention. Tell me, who did it this time?"

Stony glares met this query.

"Mmm," Lucius replied. "I see you are going to be difficult." He quirked a naughty little smile and ran his wand up Severus' chest. "I should curse you for being an idiot. Or for being rude. Instead... I'm going to do something worse. Can you imagine what it is?"

Worse? Worse? He was going to do something worse? It was too much; nobody liked him, everybody was mean to him, the portrait was cruel - Severus shook his head no. His eyes were welling up.

Lucius' own eyes widened at that, but he refrained from comment. "The answer is... breakfast. I'm going to feed you. You're going to get a little niceness in your life, young Severus, whether you like it or not!"

Severus stared at him.

"Yurkrizzy," he tried to say, but still could not. Hm; that relaxing spell HAD been effective. He supposed he should be grateful he hadn't lost bladder control. For now, he would have to be content with scowling.

Lucius smiled. "You are a cute little thing," he murmured, and waving his wand, began summoning food - somehow. Severus watched this wand work with interest.

"Howdjoo - " he stopped. This was embarassing; he was GOING to speak clearly if it killed him. "How... did..." those d's were hard - " you... do... that?"

"Smarten up a bit and I'll tell you," replied Lucius casually, and began assembling various breakfast materials with deft grace. "Do you like yogurt? Ah well, it's good for you."

"Why?" managed Severus, glad to hear it did not sound slurred. Come to think of it, he'd been drugged the last time they spoke, too, hadn't he? Gods, now this was REALLY getting embarassing.

"Because I like you, Severus Snape. I'm beginning to think you'll need to hear this at least six times a day before it sinks in." Lucius made a move as if he were shuffling cards, and suddenly breakfast was complete. He held a spoonful of yogurt with granola in it to Severus' lips. "Open up."

Severus refused. Staring at Lucius, he shook his head no, sharply.

"Come on now, don't make me use the Imperius on you!" Severus looked horrified. "...Snape, I was kidding. It's a joke."

"You're..." careful, don't slur. "Not a joke."

Lucius smiled slowly. "Thank you - I think. You're quite right, by the way; I'm not a joke. Now, open up or this is getting all down the front of your robe."

Severus' stomach growled. What else was he going to do? Glumly, he opened his mouth.

"Theeeere we go," murmured Lucius, pleased. Spoonful successfully delivered, he picked up a piece of toast and tore off a bite-size chunk. "Open up."

"You're a freak," Severus said this time before accepting the bite of toast.

"Mmm," said Lucius, possibly concurring, possibly not. He picked up a small slice of peach. "Open up."

Severus needed no prodding this time. "You are," he said around the peach-bit. "Are a freak."

"Oh, probably, all the beautiful people are," said Lucius casually, then stopped at the glower on Severus' face. "I wasn't insulting your appearance, you silly child. Must everything be about you?"

"No!" said Severus, and accepted another bite of yogurt with crunch. Strawberry; it wasn't bad, strawberry.

"I think it is," said Lucius. "Everything anybody says is directed against you - or so you seem to feel. Open up."

The marmalade Malfoy had chosen for the toast was good. "It usually is. When they say it to me, anyway."

"Really? And why do you suppose that is?" queried Lucius amiably and gave him a slice of peach.

Severus swallowed it completely before answering. "Because... they hate me," he finally said, unsure how else to phrase it.

"Really," murmured Lucius, and dabbed at Severus with a napkin. "That makes you awfully important, doesn't it?" His yogurt-filled spoon touched Severus' lips.

"What?" said Severus. Lucius pushed the spoon in.

"Oops, spilled a bit," Lucius murmured, and dabbed again.

"I'm not important," insisted Severus, and Lucius tore off another piece of toast.

"Yes, you are, if everybody hates you," he replied, and shoved the piece into Severus' mouth. It was a big one and would take longer to chew. "Hate is the most powerful emotion a human being can know. If everybody hates you, Severus, then you are by far the most important person in the lives of everybody you meet. That's fairly impressive. Open up."

Severus' mouth was wide open and stayed that way when Lucius inserted the slice of peach. He chewed it once, then swallowed it nearly whole.

"That... but that..."

"Tell me this, Severus," said Lucius as he measured out a spoonful of yogurt and granola. "Do you hate everyone you meet?"

It was a trick question and Severus knew it, but he still lashed out. "Yes!" he snapped, and Lucius laughed at him.

"No, you don't!" he said, dipping the spoon into Severus' mouth. "You merely dislike and distrust. If you actually hated them, you'd run around trying to kill everybody you see the moment they came into view." He leaned in close, grinning over Severus' confused, chewing scowl. "You don't hate anybody at all. You don't even know what hate is, and as much as I like you, Severus, I have to admit that hearing your misuse of that particular word makes me sick. Open up." And he pushed the last piece of toast.

Severus was speechless. Something in Malfoy's eyes at that very moment had blossomed, become something deeper, something more, something wrong - no, not wrong, just disturbingly OLD. And then in the next second, that something was gone.

Severus stared at him.

"Almost done," said Lucius cheerfully, and offered the last slice of peach. "If all of this sugar doesn't get you going today, I don't know what will. Of course, you didn't have much protein; from the look of you, you don't get much of that anyway - but we can make up for that during lunch."

"We?" choked Severus finally, swallowing the last piece of peach without tasting it. "There is no we."

"Of course there isn't," said Lucius soothingly, and patted him on the head. Severus growled and nearly bit him.

Lucius chuckled. "Hours of entertainment, you are," he said, and with his wand, whisked all the used dishes and remaining garbage away. "See you at lunch, Severus. I'd suggest you lie here for a while and relax - oh, and you might want to get some water or something soon. I COULD give you tea, but it's a pain trying to give someone beverages when they're lying down. It always gets everywhere."

"... why did you do this?" Severus suddenly asked, his voice suspicious and quiet. Something in his tone must have caught Lucius' attention; the older boy stopped and look at him without smiling.

"Didn't I already answer that, Severus?" he said in reply, just as quietly.

"No. Not really."

They looked at one another in silence. Lucius' eyes narrowed; a small, too-old smile touched his lips, and he nodded. "Smarten up a bit and I'll tell you," he said.

"Tell the Ravenclaw prefect that Charles Montgomery is missing," Severus suddenly said, careful to add no change in his tone.

Lucius looked validly surprised. "...all right," he said after a moment, and did not question.

Did not question. That meant more to Severus than it should.

"See you at lunch, then," said the older boy again, and left the room.

Severus felt... better. There was no pain, anywhere, although he still felt as though trying to walk anyplace would land him on the floor again. His stomach was contentedly full; the particular foods Lucius had chosen worked very well together in there. He'd delivered warning about Montgomery to somebody, at least, so that burden was off his shoulders. And now...

Well. Now, he was going to sleep. The portrait mystery was still bothering him, but the whole thing had gotten so frightening at this point that he wasn't sure he was going to continue. Dark magic was always contained in a grimoire; right now, Severus was ready to believe that the magic involved in this riddle was some of the darkest.

The temptation of accessible power battled with his sense of self-preservation; at this moment, neither came out on top.

Severus would think about it later. Stomach content and body relaxed, instead he went to sleep.

---

Part Five - A Different Point of View, III

Author's Note: You will be reading several of these "Different Point of View" segments as the story progresses. Please don't let them throw you! Because I understand that there is always more than one side to every issue, these small sections exist to present exactly what the title says: a different point of view.

Given that the rest of this story is very strongly from Severus' rather biased viewpoint, one might say it was only fair.

Heh heh heh.

---

"Right then," said Severus in a dazed sort of tone, and walked carefully away. Wobbled, really; something had clearly happened to that boy.

Dumbledore's expression went from deadpan to concerned once Severus was truly gone. "Did somebody hurt him again?" he asked, more to himself than anything else.

"Looks like," opined the suit of armor behind him, but it did not try to elaborate.

"What do you care? Struggling is good for them, isn't it? Or so goes your theory," Veneficus sniped as he sat back down on the painted grass. He eyed the chessboard balefully. "Pawn to D3."

"What? Yes, of course," murmured Dumbledore, and tapped the board so the pawn moved as told. "Do you know what happened to him?" he added conversationally, studying the pieces.

"Unfortunately, no," Veneficus lied with aplomb, his eyes steady on the headmaster's bent form. "They get worse with each generation, you know. About all they've gotten from my side of the family anymore is the nose."

"Oh, I think he has more than THAT, Veneficus. His grades are excellent. You're terribly unkind," chided Dumbledore, and moved his king.

The move startled Veneficus. Frowning, he studied the pieces for nearly half a minute before speaking. "I am always unkind. You should not be surprised at it after all these years."

"Oh, I know, but I believe hope is an essential component to humanity, Veneficus," replied Dumbledore, studying his painted adversary carefully. "But I'm afraid you never understood hope or kindness. Not even when you were human."

"I"m quite human now, thank you very much, and it is and will always be my opinion that kindness is wasted the needy. It should only be given to those who earn it."

"That, my dear Veneficus, defeats the point of kindness," replied Albus, and winced at Veneficus' expression. "Oh, oh, I know that look."

"Check," Veneficus said mildly, and pointed. Dumbledore sighed and put Veneficus' queen where he indicated.

"I do wish you'd learned the point of kindness, Veneficus - if not in life, at least after death." He studied the board, thougthfully.

"Why?" Behind Veneficus, the shapeless column of darkness seemed to shift as if... amused. Could darkness be amused?

"Because then you'd be kinder to your children, for one thing," Dumbledore admonished, and moved his last knight. "Knight to E2."

Veneficus looked startled. He scowled at the board. "Nonsense. Queen to... wait. You're distracting me."

"Yes, I probably am," said Dumbledore with a brilliant smile, and waited. One minute passed, and then two. The darkness behind Veneficus shifted slightly, and Veneficus frowned more.

"You've sacrificed your last knight, Dumbledore," he said, and pointed. "Queen to to E2."

"Sacrifices must, I fear, sometimes be made," Dumbledore replied quietly, and moved the piece where told. His knight was removed from the board. "I think this one has enough problems already, don't you?" he added amiably, and hesitated, his hand lingering over his few remaining pieces.

"Sacrifices must, and what are you blathering about now?"

"Oh... I was just thinking about your latest child. As I'm sure you are; it isn't, after all, as though you have much else to do sitting up there all day," Dumbledore said, and there wasn't even the mildlest indication of accusation or suspicion in his tone.

Veneficus glared as though he'd threatened anyway, eyes narrow. "You are a wizened little bastard," he finally said, and Dumbledore made his move. It was a pointless one; a rook, in the middle of the board, in the general direction of Veneficus' king.

"Really? I think my parents were legally married," said Dumbledore. "Although to be perfectly fair, I can't be sure."

Veneficus' black eyes were locked on Dumbledore and glittering. "Your king is exposed."

"I know."

Veneficus looked at him, hard. "Very well. Queen to E1."

Dumbledore did just that, and - making a little "bjoo" noise as a personal sound effect - watched Veneficus' queen knock his own king over with gusto. Smiling, he stood.

"Well! There you go. Excellent game as usual, Veneficus," he said very brightly and smiled.

Veneficus seemed to take offense. "What is there in that to make you so bloody happy? You've just lost," he snapped.

"Why, it's only a game, Veneficus," Dumbledore said gently, and - using his wand - whisked the board and all of its pieces into a small bag by the table. "And now that it's over, I get to put away the pieces and go home. I'm afraid you do not have that privilege."

"I AM home," Veneficus said with a growl, and Dumbledore nodded sadly.

"Yes. I suppose you are," he said with sorrow in his voice. He sighed. "After dinner, then?"

"You cannot possibly be that bored," snapped Veneficus, standing. His potions were gripped tightly in either hand; rather than being pleased by his victory, he seemed even more spiny than usual.

"Bored? No. But there is a new Dark Lord. While I know you would never consciously betray any information you might have regarding his activities, it helps me just to speak with you and remind myself what it is I am fighting for."

"And. That. Is?" said Veneficus, low, each word a poisoned dagger.

"That kindness, my dear Veneficus, is worth any sacrifice - because what it leaves behind when it dies is poison. Have a good afternoon!" And with that, Dumbledore swept up his back, vanished both the chair and table with his wand, and left. He was humming.

Veneficus glared after him.

"Bastard," he murmured dangerously as he climbed back onto his horse. "Leave my child alone."

Behind him, the darkness gathered. It seemed to shift around Veneficus' body for a moment, as though glad he were back in his original position, and then both of them were still.

The rest of the afternoon passed by in silence.