Hogwarts and the Wolf in the Fold

Voldemort puts a spy into Hogwarts.
Set during the year of the Half-blood Prince.

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17. The Other Side of the Story

 The Other Side of the Story

David was stunned. It was obvious to Susan that David did not know about Voldemort. He sat there looking at Susan, as if he had been struck by lightning. He blinked and tried to take in what she had said.
The Dark Lord was his Master and his friend. Why would she say such a thing about him? He didn’t believe that Voldemort would have killed someone. She must have been mistaken.
“How do you know that he killed your aunt?” He finally asked.
“We don’t know if it was actually him who did it.” She said.
“But it’s obvious isn’t it?”
David felt an inner anger burning inside him. She was accusing his Master of killing someone without any proof at all.
“You, you don’t know about you-know-who do you? She asked nervously.
“Why, what can you tell me about him?” He replied.
At that moment Hannah Abbot wandered over with Zacharias Smith and joined in the conversation.
“David hasn’t heard of you-know-who.” Susan told the others.
“What! You’ve got to be joking.” Said Hannah.
“He’s the most powerful dark wizard in the world.” Said Zacharias.
“He’s the one who is trying to take over the ministry of magic and he has an army of death-eaters who are causing trouble all over the place.” Said Hannah.
David listened as they told him everything they knew about Voldemort and the antics of the death-eaters. He learned about how Harry Potter had survived an attack by Voldemort and how he was now being protected by members of ‘the Order of the Phoenix.
“I’ve heard that members of the order have been posted here inside the castle and are patrolling the corridors at night.” Said Hannah.
“It all sounds unbelievable.” Said David, but not making it appear that he knew Voldemort personally.
“Well, a lot of it is just rumour and people being scared and panicking. Nobody has actually seen you-know-who, except for Harry Potter and Professor Dumbledore, oh and Cornelius Fudge the minister of magic. It was in the Daily Prophet this summer.” Said Zacharias.
“But everyone is taking it seriously and there have been some suspicious deaths and people gone missing recently. Sorry Susan.” He added and looked over at her sympathetically
Susan nodded and sniffed.
“We all joined Dumbledore’s army last year, so that we could learn how to defend ourselves against dark magic. I really miss those meetings.”
“Dumbledore’s army?” Asked David.
“I’ve heard that name before. Colin Creavey told me about it.”
“Oh yes.” Exclaimed Susan.
“He was there. So was his brother. It was all organised by Harry Potter and that Hermione Grainger. We met in the room of requirement and practiced defensive spells.”
She went on to tell him all about the meetings and the spells they learned, how they had communicated by using a special coin and how they had finally been discovered and disbanded by Dolores Umbridge.
David listened intently and tried to remember the list of names that cropped up. He was sure that the Dark Lord did not know a lot of this information and that it might be of some small use.
He didn’t believe that Voldemort had actually killed any of these people, but there did seem to be an awful lot of people who were determined to point the finger at him.
I did look like it was Dumbledore and Potter who were the main figures in all of this and he was beginning to understand why it was that Voldemort needed as much information as possible about those two.
It was vital that David kept an eye on them and tried to find out if they were plotting to perform some wicked deed against him. He wondered how these students could believe all the outlandish stories that they had heard about Voldemort. They had never met him, if they had then they would know too that he was a great man.
David was much happier for hearing all of this. He had gained a lot of clues as to the main people who the Dark Lord would like to learn more about and he was also beginning to hate the name Harry Potter.
Dinner that night was another enjoyable affair. David was the centre of attention, as more people added their tuppence-worth on the story of Harry Potter and Voldemort. He learned that there were many people who backed Harry Potter and all that he stood for, but there was also a large number of people who were unsure about Potter and though of him as big-headed and boastful.
Some even considered Potter to be a bit of a story-teller, who made up tales of duelling with the Dark Lord and fighting huge basilisks. There was a lot more to that boy than met the eye. He certainly has some strange peculiarities about him. He could talk to snakes, had secret meetings with Professor Dumbledore and had this weird relationship with the Dark Lord. There was also a rumour that Potter owned an invisibility cloak, which really interested David. He would love to have one of those.
Many of the Hufflepuffs were also taken by Dusty, who entertained them by picking up grapes from a bowl on the table and then dropped them onto the heads of students from other houses. The Hufflepuffs shouted out the name of a student and somehow Dusty knew who that person was. There were peals of laughter as his unerring aim caused the victim of his grape-bombing raid to look up and around to find out what had hit them.
The one disappointment was that nobody had much information about Albus Dumbledore. Although he was the headmaster of the school, he pretty much kept himself to himself during term-time.
He was almost always seen at breakfast, lunch and dinner, but the only other occasions that he was generally seen were the inter-house quidditch matches.
It was well known that he spent a lot of time away from the school and that in his absence Professor McGonagall took charge.
David went to bed that night with his head in a spin. There was a lot of work to be done in his quest to find out useful information for the Dark Lord, as well as a mountain of homework beginning to accumulate.
The rest of the week passed in much the same manner as the previous two days. David sat in class with Susan and hung about with her during breaks and in the evenings. She was a model student and although not top of the class, she was a very talented witch.
Hannah Abbott was also a companion in the evenings, but during the daytime she spent a lot of time with Ernie MacMillan and was also a good friend of a Gryffindor student whose name he had not yet found out.
At the weekend, David spent a lazy day lounging around his room and thumbing through the new textbooks. He kept the window open so that Dusty could fly in and out, but the bird seemed quite content to perch on the back of the chair and simply watch David.
On Saturday night David planned to enter inside Dusty again and to fly around the castle. He wanted to find out what the countryside looked like around the school and to get a better idea of the layout of the school itself.
He left the dinner hall early, while the other students were still laughing and chatting. Then, he locked the door to his room and lay down on the bed. Holding his wand tightly, he looked over at Dusty and thought of the incantation he needed.
Dusty’s feathery coat shone in the flickering candlelight and his eyes sparkled as David concentrated on the bird.
Once again he felt the pull on his body and the whoosh of space as he left his own body and turned around to find that he was looking at his inert body on the bed. He wanted to say ‘wow’, but all that came out of his mouth was a ‘caw’.
The world seemed much bigger from inside the body of Dusty. The feel of his wings as he stretched them out was also very peculiar, but not unnatural. He felt as light as air.
All he had to do was to imagine himself as a bird, flap his wings and take off. It sounded easy, but a sudden fear that he might just fall off his perch and onto the floor made him cling onto the chair.
There was nothing for it but to just go for it. Throwing caution to the wind, he opened his wings wide and started flapping furiously. He lifted upwards, but he felt ridiculous. If anyone saw him flailing around like this they would realise instantly that this bird had some severe problems.
With a slight hesitation he headed for the window and after flapping foolishly at the glass, he realised that he was trying to get through the closed side. With an irrational urge to giggle he flapped sideways and finally found the opening.
Once free of the window he flew upwards into the sky. It was a bright and dry evening and the air felt warm and fresh.
It took no more than a minute to find himself level with the topmost tower of the castle. His wings ached a little, so he took a break on the battlement running the length of the roof above the main hall.
Behind him there was nothing but stone and slate tiles. Before him lay a grassy lawn leading out towards a huge forest to the right. There were mountain peaks in the distance. To the left he could see a very large structure that looked like a stadium of some sort. ‘Quidditch pitch’ he thought to himself. It blocked the view of anything beyond. After taking a quick breather David threw himself forward and glided around to the left.
He swooped around the corner and found that he was high above the greenhouses. There were eight or ten of them, not four as he had previously thought. He didn’t have time to stop and count them, as he was travelling too fast to do anything other than concentrate on keeping in the air.
The feeling of freedom and the air rushing beneath his wings was incredible. Windows flashed by in the corner of his eye. He found it a little strange to be able to see sideways out of his head and almost behind him at the same time. The bird’s eyes were not pointing forwards he realised.
Around the next corner he got his first real view of the lake. Its dark waters ran almost to the horizon and it was very wide as well. There was a cliff rising up from it to the rear gardens of the school. He would need to get higher to be able to see the full extent of the lake and to get an idea of what was behind it.
In just the few minutes he had been in the air he felt that he was starting to get the hang of flying. It was different to the memory he had of being on a broom, maybe a little more exhilarating.
He swerved left and right and flapped harder to get a little more height again. He soon reached the farthest corner of the castle and turned left again to find himself looking alongside the forest, with Hagrid’s hut and garden in the distance.
He tried to look in at some of the windows to see if there was anything worth noting, but the rooms were too dark to see properly. He wondered where Harry Potter and Dumbledore were at that moment.
He had an urge to do a quick bit of spying on them, but an air of caution told him that he must take his time over it. There would be no use in flying from window to window, there were just too many of them for that.
With a jolt of panic he realised that he didn’t remember which was his own bedroom window. As he came around the final corner and back to the front of the school, he peered hard for any open windows at the base of the building.
Luckily for him there was only one window wide open at ground level and that was his own. He swept down from on high and headed for the gap. As he passed through, he opened his wings wide and tried to put on the brakes.
In a flurry of feathers he managed to stop in mid-air and turn around. As he did so he saw his body lying on the bed, with open eyes and lolling mouth.
Once again he felt the rush and pull as he left the body of Dusty and re-enter his own. He blinked and gazed in awe as Dusty took control of his bird wings and settled elegantly on the back of the chair.
David grinned as the bird gave him a contemptuous look and began to preen his feathers. He had a feeling that the familiar was none too happy with lending out his body to a learner.
He lay there as darkness grew, thinking about the flight and all the things that he had seen from the air. He also began to think about the things that the other Hufflepuffs had told him about Voldemort and Dumbledore’s army.
It angered him that they showed so little respect for the Dark Lord and that they only seemed to fear him. How strange it was that David knew him and also knew that he was nothing like the person of whom they spoke.
‘Newspapers.’ He thought. They always liked to tell lies about people who were successful and adored by others. He would find out everything there was to know about this Harry Potter and the secretive Dumbledore.
He fell asleep and dreamed about flying around the castle. He also dreamed of a large scarlet coloured bird with golden tail feathers and a golden beak. It flew alongside him and raced him across the lake.
He also dreamed of Dusty, or at least he thought it was Dusty. A raven flew in through his bedroom window, but not the window at Hogwarts. It was another room and another time, long ago perhaps.
He had watched the bird come inside and then perch on the end of his bed.
“You should be asleep, you little scamp.” It had said.
“Lie down now, there’s a good boy. I’ll come and tuck you in later. Go to sleep. Night night.”

 

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