Disgrace

At this late hour, nothing was moving in Albus Dumbledore's office. It was almost midnight, and the day's frantic activity had long since subsided. Then something moved almost imperceptibly. The water cooler, forgotten in a corner for ages, swiveled, raising a thin drainage pipe that slowly expanded.

Once the opening was large enough, he entered the room with all the calm and silence of a predator on the hunt. He tasted the cold air of the silent room, only illuminated by the moonlight reflecting off the many silver objects that overloaded the room with their incessant clinking.

His tongue indicated the presence of several prey futilely trying to escape his presence. How good it was to be hunting again after all these years. He opened his mouth, preparing to swoop down on his prey.

— Arcanoru, leave his spiders.He ordered sharply the half two legs that accompanied him.

Instinctively, he straightened up and bared his fangs in the direction of the little snake who, not content with giving him orders, was striving to play with the food.

Why had the son of his beloved father given him such a disgraceful mission as to obey the two legs who loved spiders? Hadn't he served him well? What had he done to incur the wrath of his human brother? Perhaps he should have insisted more for him to abandon his plan to attack the half two legs who now inhabited the nest his father had spent so many years building with 3 other humans?

Nevertheless, Arcanoru did not complain. It had been so long since any traveler had whispered the name his father had chosen for him. So long that he thought the memories of that time when he hunted together were forgotten. That time when he did not know hunger.

— Never again dare to get in the way of my hunt.Arcanoru replied by flexing his muscles ostentatiously in a position suggesting he was about to pounce.

He had just arrived and already, the large room was saturated with his scents of fear. Nevertheless, he answered her with feigned arrogance.

— Just carry out the orders of your master, stupid creature.

Such impudence at such a young age made him want to lift his eyelids and gaze at him for a better examination. But the coded message his brother had sent him through that spider enthusiast was clear: he was not to attack the human under any pretext and was to keep his eyes closed in his presence. At first, he thought this slight handicap would only add spice to the hunt his brother had entrusted him with. But the human proved to be much more bothersome than the loss of his two eyes. In addition to being outrageously sensitive, he was so noisy that he hadn't had the chance to feed on a few rats that swarmed in the sewer network enchanted by his father to expand upon his arrival and thus allow him to reach any part of the castle.

— Why do you protect its creatures? What do you hope to gain from an alliance with such weak prey?

— You don't need to know. Leave them alone, that's all.

—If you do not choose your allies better, you will quickly become prey in turn.

— I am already prey and we are in the lair of my predator. Stay focused.Replied Dark-Harry by taking one of the spiders and putting it permanently out of reach of the giant serpent. The serpent was right, it was stupid, but it reminded him of Spider and Spidey (the two semi-tamed spiders that kept him company in the cupboard under the stairs).

After hissing at him one last time in a threatening manner, the snake turned its back on him and moved into the room, until it passed under the threshold of a door that Harry guessed to be the bedroom of the old man who had sworn his downfall.

For a moment, Dark-Harry was tempted to stop it once more. This was not the plan. At least not the plan that Lord Voldemort had communicated to him (every time he thought about it, Dark-Harry found the name ridiculous and wondered what mother had been cruel enough to call her son that). Once he had opened the way to the headmaster's office via the magic that allowed him to enlarge the pipes, the giant serpent was supposed to stay by his side while he searched the office for the headmaster's wand, then take him back outside before anyone noticed his intrusion. However, the moment was already stressful enough without adding the constant watch of a hungry giant serpent.

To say that he had considered it the most beautiful moment of his life, that moment when Voldemort had shown him how to speak to his snake Nagini. It was his first act of conscious magic after all. His joy had been further enhanced when he had promised him that if he followed his orders, he could soon command his own snake. A snake much larger and more dangerous than Nagini.

He now understood that the dark mage must have suspected that he hesitated to obey him and had only lied to lure him. As he had said earlier to the basilisk, he was just prey that had stupidly thrown itself into the middle of a predator's lair.

From the moment at its call, the monster had slowly slipped out of the mouth of the immense statue hidden in the depths of the castle, there was no longer any question of doubting and even less of changing one's mind. If he dared to try to escape or disobey the true master of Arcanoru, the serpent would crush him between its coils before he even had time to call for help.And now that he was thinking about it, he seriously doubted that the dark mage would keep his promise to give him his wand in exchange for the director's.

He should have stayed with the Weasleys as his double had wanted. With tears in his eyes, he began as quietly as possible to open all the drawers, hoping that all this would soon be over.

oOoOoOo

Through the partition, he heard the half-two-legs begin to search the room. Good! Despite his brother's strict orders, if he had hesitated once more, Arcanoru did not know if he could have restrained himself from sinking his fangs into the tender flesh of his brother's annoying servant. Fortunately for the little serpent, he had an even greater source of irritation within reach.

Arcanoru stuck out his tongue and sniffed the air in search of prey. Apart from his target, the room seemed empty, and slowly, he opened his eyelids and his deadly gaze fell on the old man who was dozing in his bed, weak, fragile, and vulnerable. Despite the time that had passed, he had the same scent as the man who had forced his brother to abandon him, thus condemning him to return to sleep alone in the dark.

Cautiously, he advanced, fearing with each push from his powerful muscles that he might cross one of those invisible barriers or trigger one of those annoying alarms that the two-legged ones liked to create with their stick to give themselves an illusion of security. But there was nothing. The man, it seemed, blindly trusted the castle's protections.

'His father's protections,' thought Arcanoru painfully, recalling the many evenings Salazar had spent developing them and complaining to his familiar about the inability of his three companions to help him develop magic as subtle as the castle's protections.

Arcanoru began to move more quickly, confident in the fact that his father's magic could never harm him. Very soon, he was close enough to clearly distinguish each part of his body rising regularly with the rhythm of rapid breathing and some groaning. His brother's Nemesis seemed to have a restless sleep, as if suspecting it might be his last. Arcanoru straightened up and prepared to strike. This time neither Tom nor that Harry was there to prevent him from quenching his thirst for fresh blood.

oOoOoOo

For what seemed like the umpteenth time, Dark-Harry jumped.

Is there someone? he murmured, but once again only silence answered him.

He abandoned the drawer he was rummaging through anyway, he was sure the wand wasn't there. Instead, he wrapped himself in a plaid blanket lying in a corner and then sneezed, realizing it was covered in cat hair. Curious, it didn't seem to him that the director had a pet, he was surprised. Nevertheless, what really worried him was that despite the stifling heat that had unusually descended on the United Kingdom for the past few weeks, he was freezing. He rubbed his hands together and for the first time, he heard it clearly.

— The cold is in you.

Arcanoru, it's you. He tried to respond to the hissing voice, but he realized once the words had crossed his lips that he had spoken normally.

— Arcanoru, we know this name.

Who are you?

Simple tools, on the path to greatness.

Harry let out a sigh of relief upon understanding

I need to find a baguette. Can you help me?

We can help you get much more than a baguette.

For now, I just want to find this damn wand and get out of here.

Your heart yearns for much more. Join us and we will offer you power.

The power to avenge yourself.

The power to never run away again

Harry was not stupid. Moreover, whenever he could, he had deliberately slowed the pace of his evening chores in order to listen to Petunia read his story to Dudley (he never understood why Petunia never stopped him, but it suited him) and it was never a good idea for the heroes of his stories to listen to mysterious voices promising them power. Once again, true power, the one he sought, is conquered, not given.

Despite the voices that continued to echo in his head, Harry resumed his search by opening one of the many drawers, but only found old photo albums mostly showing two men holding hands on the English moor. He slammed the drawer shut when he accidentally came across some photos that were too personal.

He no longer had time, he had to hurry. Seized by sudden panic, he began to search frantically everywhere without realizing that the cold was becoming more and more intense and the voices louder and louder. If only he could silence them for a few minutes, he could concentrate and think. He tried to cover his ears, but they resonated even louder. Then suddenly everything stopped. He blinked and realized he was standing in front of a large glass cabinet with his hand reaching out to grasp the handle. He couldn't remember how he had gotten there. He pressed his nose against the glass and saw inside three magnificent objects that seemed to call to him from the depths of his soul. For some mysterious reason, he felt as if they belonged to him. He tried to hold back, but his urge was too strong. He needed that cup, that diadem, and that necklace.

He lowered the cabinet handle, unleashing hell on the once so calm room.

oOoOoOo

Arcanoru closed his eyes to savor the moment and plunged toward the jugular of his prey when an atrocious noise rang out. Immediately, he felt the half two legs wake up and release a violent wave of raw magic that pushed him and all the surrounding objects back until they violently hit the wall and passed through it. Slowly, he got up amidst the wooden and concrete debris of what had been the director's office. 'Fortunately, I had my eyes closed, or the violent explosion would have blinded me,' he thought, examining two sharp stakes that had stopped less than a millimeter from his precious pupils.

But he didn't have time to worry more about his injuries as the two-legs were already advancing toward him, radiating power and a deadly aura. Arcanoru's tongue quivered with excitement as he watched the two-legs raise his hand and draw a long wooden staff to him. At last, the hunt was becoming interesting.

Without worrying further about his surroundings, he rushed at his prey.

oOoOoOo

Dark-Harry painfully got up, spitting out dust and not understanding what had happened. One minute earlier, everything was calm, and now he was spitting out dust amidst debris while dull noises were heard next to him. Dazed, he looked around and saw that all the furniture in the room seemed smashed except for the cabinet, which still contained the three objects and appeared miraculously intact. He felt their call again and tried to reach out to them when he felt another force violently push him backward. Without being able to resist, he was dragged across half the room until he found himself pressed against purple robes that he immediately recognized.

He swallowed and looked up at the sky and discovered the face of Albus Dumbledore watching him sternly.

We will discuss later. For now, stay behind me.

Hardly had he finished his sentence when a violent golden light shot out of his wand and narrowly missed the head of the basilisk, which was bleeding slightly. The wand he had promised to bring back to Voldemort.

He did not have time to examine it further when the director made a strange gesture with his hand and his eyes were covered with a sort of dark veil similar to sunglasses that blurred his vision.

It will protect you. If only Fawkes hadn't left me.

Dark-Harry held back from yelling at him that he was not as naive as his counterpart and knew he would kill him the moment he no longer needed to please his counterpart to get information. He watched for a few seconds the violent confrontation between the basilisk and the old wizard.

oOoOoOo

Understanding that his gaze was ineffective against his opponent, Arcanoru attempted a deadly charge that he had to deflect at the last moment to avoid a black lightning produced by the old two-legs' staff. Normally, Arcanoru would have trusted his thick skin to deflect the curse, but the aura of cruelty surrounding the spell left him no doubt about the nature of the curse. The old two-legs dared to use his father's dark inventions against him.

He let out what most resembled a cry of rage and freed himself from the debris of the only wall still intact that he had smashed through while trying to avoid the spell determined to make him pay for his outrage against the old two-legged one. But he had barely had this thought when he had to hastily dodge another series of spells, each darker and more powerful than the last, which he narrowly avoided at the cost of injuring his body already scratched by the numerous debris scattered in this room far too narrow for him. Arcanoru was beginning to wonder who was truly the prey.

Experliarmus. Did he hear the high-pitched voice of a two-legged creature scream, before a white flash hit his opponent. Having completely erased from his mind thepresence of Harry, Arcanoru did not quite understand what had happened, however, he noticed the two-leg's stick escape from his hand to fly to the other end of the room. He didn't waste a second to rush at the now disarmed old man.

oOoOoOo

Despite his exhaustion, Dark-Harry ran breathlessly, the Elder Wand in his hand, exulting with joy. The effort had nearly made him faint, but his hours of practicing the first spell taught by the beginner's defense manual he had found at the Weasleys' had finally paid off. He had cast his real first spell and hadn't even needed a wand for it.

Once he recovered from his surprise, realizing that the much-coveted wand was in his hand, he fled down the stairs of the tower, half-destroyed by the shocks caused by the titanic battle taking place at the top, without a backward glance at the old man now far too troubled to follow him.

Once he reached the bottom, he had to stop in front of a stone gargoyle blocking access to the exit. Overflowing with confidence from his first success, he tried the only spell he knew again. But this time, it wasn't a faint white flash that escaped, but a light so bright he briefly thought he had gone blind. When he regained his sight, he saw that the gargoyle lay shattered at the other end of the smashed corridor. Unlike the first time, he felt in great shape. The spell, far from draining him, had filled him with energy, and he felt his magic crackling around him. Unable to help himself, he let out a cry of joy.

From now on, he was no longer a defenseless little boy. Then his cry turned into laughter when he heard a scream of pain that seemed to belong to the old wizards who had ruined his life. How sweet revenge was.