Chapter 3

“Ma – Master,” a quivering voice said from the darkness.  “I ha – have the –”

“Just spit it out, Wormtail,” a menacing voice hissed out.  “I haven’t all day.”

“The next piece is in Ireland, my lord,” the plump ratty man rushed out.  “The best chance we have of finding the temple is to get the remaining three pieces.  But we might not be the only ones searching for it –”

“Then get rid of our competition,” The Dark Lord spat out.  “You know what to do.  Get going!  Take Malfoy with you as well.  I don’t trust you enough to do it by yourself.  And remember the consequences of not meeting my requirements, Wormtail.”  In a ray of light a wand held by a gnarled hand waved around, sending sparks floating down – a pre-reaction to the actual spell the wizard was about to cast.  “Crucio.”

The curse was expected – as it always was when the Death Eaters had to meet their overlord.  Still there was that same initial shock and anguish he had felt for the past twenty-four years of his life.  Why did he always put them through that sort of pain?  It was a reminder, a voice cried at the back of his head as the pain coursed through him from the effects of the second heavy wave.  The next severe surge caused him to fall to the ground, writhing and screaming.  When the last of the curse ebbed away, he was just able to crawl away, still jerking - weak and pitiful - in the after affects of what he was made to go through.

Voldemort sneered in the darkness, his red eyes flashing in amusement.  He always enjoyed a little hexing when it came to the weak members of his group.  Wormtail was his favorite torture toy as he emitted some of the best screams that his victims gave.  The man wouldn’t last very long, he thought in a matter-of-factly way, tapping on the hand rest with his bony, withered finger.  As long as the man died after his mission was complete, Voldemort wouldn’t mind one bit.  A dark sound rumbled in the recesses of his body – laughter if one was to suppose it could sound so bone-chilling.  Once he found it, he would be the most powerful wizard in all of the world that not even the boy, Harry Potter would be able to stop him.  Assured by his internal ramblings, Voldemort leaned back in his chair and called to his lovely little snake.

~~ o0o ~~

Harry Potter ambled down the steps of on of Hogwarts’ stairs.  The staircase he walked upon was different from the rest of them on the school grounds.  These were connected to a place far below the level of the dungeons and all the secret passages of the area.  The farther down he went the warmer the feeling he got inside of him.  It was a small channel that his head was scant inches from the arched top.  If Hagrid was still around, he would never have been able to fit into the place and if he had attempted to try, the way would have been clogged by his massive body.

Harry’s brows knitted together over his striking green eyes.  How long had it been since he’d seen that giant wizard: two – three years?  Ever since the Order of the Phoenix had decided to ‘spread its wings’ he had no contact with the rest of the group.  They all went their separate ways; assigned a corner of the globe to spread their stronghold on the wizarding world before the Dark Forces were able to overtake them.  It wasn’t only Hagrid that Harry hadn’t seen.  There was still Ron, who was told to take the Southeast Asian countries and Hermione who… well, she refused to tell anyone as it was said to be forbidden to give out such information.  He felt a tug at his stomach at the recollection of his friends.  They weren’t allowed any contact to each other – not one bleeding note to ask how someone is – for fear of that note being intercepted and having the member tracked down.

At that moment, for all he knew, Hermione was in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, getting the people of Atlantis to stay on the same side as the Order.  He let out a sigh and paused on a step in the fire-lit staircase.  He really missed Ron and Hermione.  They had been through so much together – may it be from playing a life-size chessboard game to things like time-traveling to even losing those closest to them.  The sudden memory of Sirius – unbidden – still tugged at his heart even if it had been over ten years since that incident.  Sir Nicholas was right about his godfather never coming back.  Shaking his head, he resumed his walking and soon was faced with an almost blinding light at the end.

The long tedious journey to his destination was finally done and as he stepped into the room, his senses were flooded with a strange warmth and utter brightness streamed through to his squinted eyes.  As his vision adjusted, he was greeted by a vast area of smooth marble surface – covered in intricate designs and special enchantments, which – despite his frequent visits to the place – still ended up dazzling him.  He trailed his eyes to the opposite end of where he stood and settled upon the reason of his visit.

Albus Dumbledore was known to be a powerful wizard.  But with his waning health, it became apparent he was becoming more of a liability than an asset as he was who the Death Eaters were ordered to kill.  It was one particular incident that changed the lives of the whole Order.  Harry was still accompanied by Ron and Hermione at the time – it was about three years ago – and the only way Albus could move around any more was through the use of special charms and spells.  A few members of the Order – namely Harry and Severus (who at the time were still having problems with each other) – were keeping guard so the Headmaster of Hogwarts would be safe from any further attacks.  Lo and behold, a couple of Voldemort’s minions arrived just an hour after the two had started their shift.  Before they could do anything, however, Albus burst out of his chambers (the area that the two had been guarding) and exposed himself to the Death Eaters.

Harry remembered everything moving slowly at that point.  He screamed out the headmaster’s name and reached for him.  Severus did the same thing, but with more desperation than he.  The old man was obviously important to the Potions Master.  Harry watched as the white-bearded man spread his arms out, saw the glint of something so forceful already in his eyes.  Just as the two Death Eaters charged at him, a whirlwind of power burst from Dumbledore and filled an entire ten meter radius with such potent magic that it had Harry gasping for breath.  Harry was blinded by the sudden flood of brilliant light – emitted by the powerful old wizard with them.  Moments later, after a series of blinks, the light subsided and he immediately looked for the Dark Lord’s followers.  They lay convulsing like worms on the ground, their eyes white and wide in an expression of sheer shock and fear.  The sound that Snape had cried out instantly brought his eyes to the headmaster and he, too, let out a sound of shock and rushed over to him.  The Headmaster of Hogwarts still stood where he had been, but there were definite changes to him.  He no longer looked weak and frail, but luminous and strong, his body taking a fearless stance as he looked unseeingly in front of him.  His skin was the color of pearl – as was the rest of his body and clothing.

The most powerful wizard Harry had known had turned to stone.  Harry was afraid to touch him at all.  What if he crumbled to the ground, turning into ashes caught by the wind and swirl away as dust does?  But something… in the statue urged him to take the hand placed so carefully at his side.  Tentatively – fearfully – he took hold of the hand and instantaneously, flashes of thoughts along with images filled Harry’s mind.  It was like an electric shock, coursing through him in great waves.  He pried his hand away and stared in shock at his hand, then at the stone one.  Whatever he had heard; whatever he had seen, was what Dumbledore wanted.  He stared up at the face – so elderly and so wise.

That was how the Order decided to spread throughout the world.  Harry looked at the stone figure there across the room at that moment – four years after the incident – and smiled warmly at it.  Dumbledore was still there, helping, guiding and showing the way that they were supposed to go.  It had become a daily routine for him to visit the statue, talk a bit to it, and take the warm stiff fingers into his grasp and see what message he would get.

The man with the lightning scar made his way towards the other end to see his next assignment.

~~ o0o ~~

‘Flight 182 of Galloway Airlines departing for Dublin, Ireland is now ready for boarding.  Those in aisles forty to forty five may line up now.  First and Business Class passengers may board at any time between now and the departure time indicated.  All other passengers please remain seated until further notice.’

Severus looked up from the Daily Prophet he was holding and got up at the flight attendant’s monotone, yet somewhat hospitable voice.  Other people were getting up as well, but to his relief there was no sign of Chloe or the play-boy around.  Taking his suitcase in his hand and placing the paper under his arm, he got in line.  Once he had safely stowed away his hand-carry and was seated in his seat, he settled back and closed his eyes, letting out a heavy breath.

“Oh, Merlin, you’ve got to be kidding me,” someone by him said in total incredulity.

He could identify that voice anywhere and he, too, knew he could not believe his rotten luck.  Severus grimaced and cracked an eye open before stifling a groan of utter disdain.  “Miss Granger,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Okay, I will give a hundred pounds to the person who will willingly trade places with me,” Hermione announced to the already boarded passengers, rummaging through her purse to take out a bill.

He gave her an exasperated look before he sighed tiredly and rubbed his eyes with two of his fingers.  “Alright, Miss Granger, you can stop that now,” he muttered with a weary voice.  “I would greatly appreciate it if we were to be on a modicum of professionalism as we will be working together for the next few months – though why you are here is beyond my comprehension.”

“You started our bickering – as you always do, if I recall correctly,” she huffed.  Then after a pause, she said, “And Mr. Luthor – the man who funded the expedition – said that I should experience one of these trips for myself to see why he wastes so much money on them instead of for the community.”

He looked at her with a perplexed look and she sighed as she shook her head and took a seat beside him.  “You asked why I was here – though it was questioned indirectly.  I was merely answering you.  You ought to keep track of what you’re asking so you won’t look like a lost pup.”

“What happened to the level of professionalism we are trying to achieve?” questioned Severus in a dry derisive tone.

“You suggested it.  I haven’t agreed to the circumstances, however,” Hermione said and pursed her lips.

“Well, will you agree with it now?” He looked quite irritated with her refusal to give in.  “I don’t want to be stuck with someone who very well can blackmail me and then put me through physical torture before sending me to Voldemort.”

She looked at him under her furrowed brows and sighed.  “Fine, I will.”

Having said that, she placed her things in the compartment above her and sat down, clamping her seatbelt securely over her waist.  They didn’t say anything for a while, until Hermione, began to twist her fingers.  Her old Professor knew what that meant and burst.  “Alright, Hermione, what is bothering you?  You don’t wring your hands like that just because you feel like it.”

“I can’t see the purpose of this search, Professor,” she began almost immediately that Severus almost smirked at the fact that he was right.  “I told Mr. Luthor that it was pointless to fund these trips – much less go along with the group that’s going, but he seemed quite decisive about the whole idea.”

“I see.  And why do you think he keeps on funding these trips?” he asked with a scrutinizing look.

“I think it’s merely for his personal entertainment,” she answered honestly.  “I mean, the man can virtually do whatever he wants as he owns practically the whole city.  I believe that he thinks a vacation more often than once every few years is alright.  All he is doing, however, is neglecting the issues at hand in the world.”

There was a long pause before Severus spoke again, his words coming out slowly, a bit thoughtfully, but more reluctant.  “I don’t think you quite understand the system yet, Miss Granger. He does give money – though he doesn’t present it directly,” he replied, though it was apparent that he didn’t want to admit it out loud.  “Indirectly, he is giving the money he gains back to the common-people.  By giving it directly would make the groups he presented it to become more demanding for such funds instead of using their own abilities and talents to gain it for themselves.”

“Well, I still don’t see what the big deal about searching for a pile of rocks,” she muttered.  “Especially one that has been lost to the world for over a thousand years and means nothing to the modern world today.”

He raised a surprised brow.  “My, my, I’m very startled at the attitude that you’re showing.  I actually expected you to be more interested in archaeology than you are now.  What happened to the studious student in Hogwarts who had enjoyed the study of relics and ancient history?”

She didn’t say anything at first, but after a while, she answered in a hushed voice.  “With Voldemort still on the rampage, it’s difficult to enjoy the leisure of discovering new places.  And besides, what good will it do for the wizarding world if we find an ancient temple anyway?  And what can someone looking backwards give to a society that needs to look forward?”  She frowned as she spoke and fidgeted uncomfortably in her chair.

Her old professor said nothing for a moment, mulling over what she had said.  She was settling back in her chair when he asked, “Do you know who Thanatos is, Miss Granger?”  She turned her head at the sudden question.

“Not particularly.  I didn’t read much on histories of other civilizations other than the Romans – and even them, I didn’t know much about.”

“Well, if you had done some research,” he started, making Hermione humph.  “You would find out that ’Thanatos’ was a Greek god – actually, we just know he was immortal, not quite considered as a god by others like Zeus and Hera –” she gave him a lost look, but he would explain eventually who the other Greek gods were. “– and he was death, personified to the Ancient Grecians.  He would go around slaying those who the Fates – the ones who create, measure, and destroy mortal life – say are to die.”

Hermione grimaced.  “What a horrible job.  I definitely wouldn’t want to be saddled with killing people for all eternity.”

“Yes, well, the thing was, all the other gods – Zeus, Hera, and Ares and so on – despised him.  The reason behind that remains unknown to the muggle world, but it is theorized and believed by the wizarding society that perhaps the gods were mad by the fact that there was a group of individuals – ancient Grecians, to be more specific – who devoted their lives to venerating Thanatos.  By worship, I mean they would do great acts in the name of him and sacrifice many items that were considerably pricey in that day and age.  By doing these deeds, they believed that they could gain his respects and he would allow them to live out a longer life.  The length extra would be determined by the value of their sacrifices.  And because the majority of the worshippers brought priceless objects, the reverence that the other Greek gods received altogether from their congregation didn’t even compare to that of Thanatos.”

“What made the people keep on believing he could do any of this?  Can’t we assume that this Thanatos character was merely a figment of their imagination and they kidded themselves about the whole deal?”

“You’re still missing one piece of the puzzle, Miss Granger.  Those who had given him their beloved daughters and sons lived to be at least ninety-five,” he answered simply.  “During their times, being forty was a major achievement; many would want to have offspring with them in hopes that their future generations would live just as long – if not longer.  And mind you, these people I’m talking about weren’t only muggles.  Amongst them were great wizards and witches – somewhat primitive versions of wizards and witches, but individuals with our basic abilities all the same.”

“And… so what you’re saying is that Voldemort may have heard about this temple and is trying to search for it so that he could sacrifice something of great value to Thanatos so that he can live longer?”

“Not only live longer, Hermione, but become immortal.  And that is why this find is important.  I personally think that it’s worth looking for, don’t you?”

He heard her suck in a fearful breath and caught her eyes raking the compartment – as if seeing if anyone there could be a follower of the Dark Lord.  “But what would he give that is of great value to anyone?”

Severus pursed his lips.  “I don’t know.  That is why I’m on this journey; to seek answers.”

“Did you tell the rest of the – Order – about this finding?”

He sat in grim silence for a moment before he answered her.  “If I did, I would be risking the lives of our entire group.  We are in a vulnerable position right now as the Death Eaters are at large and aware of all of our movements.  I can’t trust the owls for they might be intercepted.  Using the Floo network won’t work either.  You’re actually the first member I have seen in almost a year.”

They both sat in silence for the rest of the time they waited for departure-time and take-off.  Once they were stable in the air and the seatbelt sign was off, Hermione turned to her old Potions Professor with a speculative look on her face.  He caught it and frowned slightly.  “What has you looking at me so?”

“You know, if you loosened up a bit like you just did a while ago more often, then I think you would have a better chance of getting together with the blonde girl that you were with a while ago,” Hermione commented off-handedly.

Had he been drinking something, he most definitely would be choking on the liquid at that moment.  His eyes did bulge, however, at her assumption and he looked at her with great horror.  “You have got to be jesting.  You foolish girl, I don’t harbour any intimate feelings for Miss Sullivan.  I was merely told to – what are you looking at me like that for?”

Hermione folded her arms, not believing one word he said.  “Please, Professor,” she said rolling her eyes.  “I know when someone likes another person.  What you did is what any man would do to prevent her from falling for another man.  You, sir, are jealous and quite smitten with the girl – Miss Sullivan, you said?  Well, I didn’t actually think muggles – or very young muggle girls – were your type, but, we all have our secrets I guess.”

He stared at her for a moment before he let out a strange sound – so unfamiliar to Hermione.  She by the smirk that was still on his face as he let out the sound, she assumed that it had to be laughter – nothing that she had ever experienced as long as she’d known the man.  Heads turned in surprise as he kept on laughing and Hermione’s cheeks burned in embarrassment as she tried to quiet him down.  It was a while before he stopped and even then, he still had a smile – it looked more like a scary smirk if one was asked – on his face.

“Okay,” the young woman beside him whispered.  “What was that all about?”

“Why you think I would go for that blonde, muggle, spitfire is beyond me,” he stated in a low voice.  “She is like a child – a daughter – to me.  A was also told by her biological father that if anything was to happen to her, he would track me down and slaughter me in the most brutal of manners.  Of course he doesn’t know I’m a wizard, but that’s beside the point.  The fact is that he threatened to kill me so I must look out for the chit, even if it’s a horrible job and I don’t get paid for it.”

Hermione looked around searching the seats.  “So, where is she?”

His face turned stony and his obsidian gaze hardened.  “With the boy, who you call ‘boss’.”

Her eyes widened in shock.  “You bloody serious?  Does she know who she’s messing with?  Is she aware in how much trouble she’s in or is she a bloody idiot?  Merlin, you’ve got to save her from him!”

“Don’t you think I tried?  She was adamant about sitting with him, however.  Apparently she’s known him for quite some time.  I can’t do anything to bring her here.”

“Very well, I will do it,” Hermione said resolutely and moved to get up.

She was abruptly yanked down however by Snape.  “You don’t know what she’s like.  Just leave her be.  Let her learn her mistake.”

Hermione still worried, however, and looked anxiously towards the curtains leading to First Class.