The Dark Lord
Chapter 9- The Dark Lord
Michael woke with a start, shaken by a nightmare he couldn’t remember. Quickly composing himself, he checked the time to find that dinner would be served soon. He groaned as he straitened the robes he napped in, preparing himself for another awkward meal.
As he made his way to the great hall he ran into the Potions Master. The two (2) men walked in an awkward silence for a time before Mike broke it.
“Hey, do you know what ingredients I can find in the forest?” He asked, figuring that now was a good a time as any to ask.
“What?” The older man raised a brow at him.
“I’m running low on some of my potions ingredients so I need to know what to order.” He replied. There was a pause as the bat like man eyed him.
“What do you need? I can tell you where to find it.” He drawled. Michael simply nodded as they entered the Hall and sat in the same seats they did for breakfast.
Michael took out his notepad, flipping to his shopping list, and handed it to the dour man. He read through the ingredient names, trailing a boney, spider-like finger down the page under them.
“Do you have a quill?”
“I have a pen.”
“That’s fine.”
The pale man grabbed the black ballpoint pen from Mike and marked a few things on the page. He underlined some, bulleted others, and a small few were left blank.
“The underlined ones can be found in the forest, I can show you where during a free period. The dotted ones I have in my stores, the rest you’ll have to find elsewhere.” He explained.
“Thanks.” Mike replied with a short nod. Severus said nothing in return and began to quietly eat his dinner. Michael observed the man for a minute, before realizing that it was creepy to stare. Especially when you have purple eyes and a dark aura.
Did this count as making a friend? Michael didn’t know, it had been a long time since Mike had any friends. He caught himself before he spiraled to far down that line of thought. Amidst his staring and spiraling, he caught the eye of a certain possessed professor.
Looks like he wasn’t the only one staring.
It was ironic that the DADA professor was the one possessed. Maybe he could use himself as an example of what not to do. A bubble of laughter threatened to escape his throat at the thought.
Ironic indeed.
Dinner continued much like breakfast had. Loud headmaster and groundskeeper, quietly annoyed Severus and Quirrell, other teachers chatting softly, and Michael silently sipping a chalice of water.
Oh how he wished it could remain this peaceful.
But dinner came to an end and Quirrell led him to his rooms once again. He couldn’t have prepared himself for this meeting if he tried. They entered the living space and Quirrell set up a number of wards as Mike went to the kitchenette.
“Mister Afton…” It was almost Quirrell’s voice… Almost.
“What kind of tea do you like?”
“Excuse me?”
“Tea?” He repeated as he pulled out a steel kettle and lit the stove. He only turned to face the man once the water was set to boil. Purple iris’ met red. “I’m trying to be nice here.” He leaned on the counter, arms crossed over his chest. The Dark Lords eyes narrowed.
“Most would cower in my presence.”
“I don’t think that’s a type of tea, but feel free to enlighten me.” This earned him a glare.
“I should kill you where you stand for your insolence.” The wraith growled.
“But you won’t, because you need me.” Mike stated plainly. This only stoked the fire of the Lords anger. A thick, dark magic permeated the air.
“Now why would you think that?” He asked though gritted teeth. It was almost comical to see this once pathetic man push out such powerful magic.
“Because there is no way you’ll even make it to winter hols at this rate.” Michael began, his tone even with a hint of annoyance. “You are decaying, I don’t know how you expect for Quirrell to teach for long when he’s already in this state.”
“His task should not take that long.”
“you really think someone like him will actually be able to bring you back? I don’t.” Michael turned back towards the counter to look in the cabinets. He continued his thought while he grabbed two (2) mugs, “I’m not stupid, I know my families reputation. I also know how I look, and while anyone else would assume sleep deprivation or some bullshit, you would see the truth.” He grabbed some Earl Grey and fixed two (2) mugs of tea.
“I was under the impression you felt bad for Quirinus, yet you speak as if you dislike him.” The other deflected in an attempt to control the conversation. Michael poured a bit of dark purple potion into each cup, then turned and walked over. He handed the other man one of the cups as he spoke again.
“Possession’s a bitch and Quirrell is a dumbass.” He looked straight into those crimson eyes. “Now, what do you want, and what will I get in return?”
The air was suffocating.
The Dark Lord caved and took the mug with a glare. Michael walked to the sofa and sat down. The Dark Lord continued to stand.
“I require your assistance in my resurrection.” He stated slowly.
“Yeah, I figured that out for myself thank you.” The others glare sharpened. “Look, I can’t just create a human body out of thin air. I can help your soul stay in it easy enough, and keep him alive until we find a body, but the rest is way more complicated.”
“Dumbledor has hidden the Sorcerer’s Stone in the castle, I plan to use it to create my new vessel.” He explained.
“Well, that’s a start.” Mike sighed. “But why should I even help you. I know nothing about you, outside of the obvious, but you knew that already.”
“If you don’t then I’ll kill you.”
“No you won’t.”
“Why not?” He growled.
“Because I’m an Afton, and we can’t be killed by just anything.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“I’m sure the Killing Curse would suffice.” This made Michael laugh.
“If that were the case, my family would have died out centuries ago.” The atmosphere was tense, the weight of those words resting heavy in their minds. Yet they were spoken so nonchalantly.
“What are you?” The crimson eyed man asked, although not with disgust or fear. His tone was almost curious, and at the same time held a slight note of awe. No other who had known the Dark Lord would ever catch such emotion from him, immediately writing it off. But Michael, who had never even heard of a new Dark Lord arising, did.
“I’m a monster, same as you.”