After reinforcing the Imperius Curse on Malo, Sean considered his mission in Hogsmeade complete. Thanks to Malo's fawning obedience, his mind had been wide open, allowing Sean to plant a curse that would last for a very long time. In truth, the curse was now more of a failsafe than a necessity. The man was so thoroughly brainwashed that he would likely obey Sean's every command regardless. But one could never be too careful.
"Malo," Sean commanded, his voice still the cold rasp of his disguise. "Take this one and leave. I have given him orders to follow your arrangements. Reinforce the Imperius Curse on him periodically to maintain its stability. And if you have the opportunity," he added, a cruel smile touching his disguised lips, "you may use the curse on any of our other... recalcitrant... associates. Ensure their complete cooperation."
"As you command, great Master."
With a final, respectful nod from Malo, Sean drew on his power. Black smoke billowed from his form, and he soared into the air, the smoke wrapping around him like a shadowy cloak. He shot into the night sky, disappearing from Malo's sight.
Malo watched him go, his heart swelling with awe. Flight without a broomstick. It was the signature ability of the Dark Lord, a power that set him far above ordinary wizards. It was a sign of supreme status, of a being who had transcended the mundane laws of magic. He saluted respectfully in the direction Sean had vanished, then turned to the newly enthralled dark wizard, a look of pure contempt on his face.
To dare to track the Dark Lord, he thought. To not be killed for such an insolence is a sign of his great mercy. If the Master did not need men at this moment, this fool would already be a corpse.
"Come with me," Malo snapped. "When we return, you will say you discovered nothing. You will also write down the names of anyone who speaks ill of me or of the Dark Lord, and you will give that list to me. Understand?"
"Understood."
Malo grabbed the man's arm, and, with a sharp crack, they Apparated away. It was worth noting that the other dark wizard could not Apparate himself. Even among his kind, he was at the absolute bottom of the food chain, much like most of the pathetic recruits Malo had managed to gather.
Sean stumbled out of the tunnel at the base of the Whomping Willow, limping heavily. The dramatic, flying exit had been effective, but the landing had been less than graceful. He had misjudged his descent and come down hard, twisting his ankle. Fortunately, his Giant Hide talent had saved him from a broken leg.
Tsk. Just being able to fly isn't enough, he grumbled to himself, rubbing his ankle. I need to practice. What good is an ability that lets me fly up but not land? The last thing I need is to fall to my death in the middle of a duel. Though, he thought with a flash of dark humor, making my enemy die of laughter could be considered an unexpected attack method.
Still under the cover of his Disillusionment Charm, he made his way unevenly toward the castle. The path took him past Hagrid's hut and the massive pumpkins growing in his garden. As he was looking away, he saw a small figure dart out from behind the hut, running across the pumpkin patch toward the castle.
Even under the Disillusionment Charm, the figure brushed past him, so flustered she didn't notice a thing. As she passed, something small and white fluttered to the ground. Sean bent down and picked it up. A chicken feather. And he recognized the girl. It was Ron's younger sister, Ginny Weasley.
The memories, though faded, were clear enough. Ginny was the one. The host of the diary. The one who would open the Chamber of Secrets and unleash the Basilisk.
Has she already been controlled? he wondered. Is the diary on her now?
He didn't remember if the diary needed to be physically present for its influence to work. He had let her pass, not wanting to alert the fragment of Voldemort's soul within. But he reasoned that to control the Basilisk, which only obeyed the Heir of Slytherin, the soul fragment would have to be close. That would be his best chance to get the diary.
The thought of simply using the Imperius Curse on some innocent Gryffindor girl to steal it had crossed his mind, but he had rejected it immediately. He could control dark wizards, his enemies, without a flicker of guilt. But to use such a foul curse on an innocent... he was not that far gone. Not yet. Besides, to use the Imperius Curse right under Dumbledore's nose would be an act of supreme foolishness.
He recalled another detail: the first attack happened on Halloween, the night of Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party. That meant he only had to stake out Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on that day.
Lost in thought, he made his way back to his dormitory. He applied a soothing potion to his swollen ankle, the cool relief spreading instantly. He then settled into a chair, scooping Kulkan up and draping the snake over his shoulders, and picked up a book, preparing to continue his studies.
But at that moment, Kulkan, who had been lying placidly on his shoulder, suddenly stiffened. The snake's head shot up, its gentle eyes turning sharp and fierce. It turned its head, its gaze fixed on a point just outside his room, and began to hiss, a low, continuous sound of warning and aggression. Something was out there.
[Chapter Complete]
***
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