Voldemort’s Heir
Chapter Seven
Harry paced back and forth from one end of Dumbledore’s desk to the other. A troubled expression marred his handsome face as he mulled over he’d sensed.
“Harry, you must tell us as much as you can recall about what you saw,” Isabene said, perched on the corner of her father’s desk.
Harry cast a glance at Eric, who was pacing as well. “Krista was taken before Voldemort,” Harry said quietly. “She was frightened.”
Eric swore under his breath. “This is bad, very bad,” he muttered. “Big Mouth doesn’t scare easily.”
Mackenzie raised an eyebrow. “Big Mouth?”
Eric cleared his throat self-consciously. “My pet name for Krista.”
Mackenzie grinned, nodding knowingly.
Isabene turned her attention back to Harry. “What else?”
“I. . .” Harry hesitated. “I don’t know.”
Snape snorted. “Harry Potter, the great Auror, doesn’t know?” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Isabene glared at him. “Snape,” she said in a warning tone. She glanced at Harry with an apologetic look. “Harry, darling, think. Try to remember what he said.” She threw a venomous look at Snape. “And ignore Severus. He seems to have a wand permanently lodged up his ass.”
Ron laughed, then flinched as Snape glared at him.
“Still hurling insults as if we were still in grade school, are we, Isabene?” Snape said. “Some people never mature.”
Isabene’s eyes glinted with anger, and her hand reached toward the inside of her jacket.
Realizing that was where she kept her wand, Mackenzie quickly said, “Harry, did my father say anything else?” She shot a look at Isabene, which plainly read “Behave.”
Harry wet his lips, casting a nervous glance at Eric. “He. . .uh. . .he asked Krista if she thought her husband would die for her.”
“Hell yes,” Eric hissed. “Especially if he lays a hand on her. . .”
“She begged Voldemort not to kill Fy. . .Eric,” Harry said.
“What else?” Eric asked, clenching his hands into fists at his side.
“Nothing,” Harry said. “He had her escorted back to her cell.”
“No indication as to where they are?” Dumbledore asked.
“There were. . .statutes of snakes,” Harry said slowly. “Like the ones in the Chamber of Secrets.”
Dumbledore’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline and Snape frowned.
“That’s impossible,” the Potions Master insisted. “Voldemort couldn’t have taken her into the Chamber without Professor Dumbledore knowing.”
“While it is a disturbing thought, Voldemort has been in the school before without my detecting his presence,” Dumbledore pointed out.
“That is a very disturbing thought,” Isabene muttered, frowning. “Where is this Chamber?”
“In Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom,” Ron said.
Eric cocked one eyebrow upward. “Who’s Moaning Myrtle?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “One of the more depressed ghosts of Hogwarts.”
“Oh,” Eric said.
“God, don’t ever introduce Fy. . .Eric to Moaning Myrtle,” Hermione groaned. “She’d probably fall in love.”
“At least she would be over me,” Harry grumbled.
Mackenzie smiled, then glanced at Eric. “Come. Let’s go. Ollivanders’ awaits.”
As Mackenzie and Eric exited the room, Isabene turned to Harry. “There was something more,” she said. “Something you didn’t tell us.”
Harry hesitated. “I wasn’t sure if I should say it in front of Eric,” he admitted. “I got the impression from Krista that neither of them really knew.”
Snape frowned. “Knew what?” he demanded. “Potter, what are you hiding?”
Harry chewed his bottom lip. “Krista told him that she was of no use to him, that he should let her go,” he said finally. “He told her that both she and her unborn child were of great use to him.”
“His unborn child?” Snape whispered.
“Damn, this complicates things,” Isabene muttered.
“I didn’t want to say anything in front of Eric,” Harry said.
Isabene nodded. “He would’ve gone after Voldemort, despite being unprepared.” She began to pace. “Bloody hell. This shortens our time limit for training him.”
“Perhaps Professor Scott can provide us with a solution,” Dumbledore suggested.
Isabene raised an eyebrow. “Professor who?”
Snape made a face. “The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”
“Ohhh,” Isabene said with a grin. “I can see why you don’t like him.”
“I’ll have someone fetch him,” Dumbledore said.
In a matter of moments, a young, handsome man was stepping into the office. His dark brown hair was short and his brown eyes sparkled with mirth, as though he were laughing at a joke no one else knew. He was tall, but wore his professor’s robes well.
“Professor Dumbledore,” he said, respectfully bowing to the headmaster. Catching sight of Snape, he inclined his head. “Professor Snape.”
Snape responded with a curt “Professor Scott.”
“Professor Jason Scott, allow me to introduce you to my daughter, Isabene,” Dumbledore said, motioning to her.
“Hello,” Jason said, nodding. Isabene returned the nod, giving him a smile.
“As well as Misters Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley and Ms. Hermione Granger,” Dumbledore continued.
Jason grinned. “Oh yeah, the three Aurors I read so much about in the Daily Prophet,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” His grin widened as he glanced at Hermione. “And may I say, Ms. Granger, the Prophet’s photographs don’t do you proper justice.”
Hermione blushed, looking quite pleased. “Thank you.”
Ron merely glowered at Jason, who seemed not to notice.
“Professor Scott, I’m sure you’re quite curious as to why I summoned you here,” Dumbledore said.
Jason grinned. “Well, I was going to make polite conversation, but if you insist on jumping straight to the point, I won’t complain.”
Dumbledore smiled. “Professor Snape, perhaps you’d like to bring our young Defense Against the Dark Arts professor up-to-date on our situation.”
Snape curled his upper lip in distaste. “Very well,” he said, his facial expression indicating he’d rather be somewhere else.
“My son has recently come to Hogwarts,” he began.
Jason raised an eyebrow, looking surprised.
Isabene smirked. “Hard to imagine someone like Snape being a father, huh?”
Snape glared at her before continuing. “Like yourself, Professor Scott, my son has learned of his wizardry late in life.”
Jason nodded. “So you want me to help train him.”
“Yes,” Isabene said, nodding. “But we’re short on time. You see, his grandfather has kidnapped his wife and it’s urgent that Fy. . .Eric be fully prepared to face him.”
“Who’s his grandfather?” Jason asked curiously.
Snape made a face. “Voldemort.”
Jason’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is your father-in-law?” he said, looking at Snape. “No wonder you’ve got such a sour disposition.”
He frowned. “Wait a second, you said Eric?”
Isabene nodded. “He was raised a Muggle, unaware of his magical talents.”
“Hmm,” Jason said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I wonder. . .”
“Wonder what?” Snape snapped.
Jason smiled easily. “Nothing,” he said. “So where is this Fy-Eric?”
Hermione smiled, giggling a little.
“His mother took him to Ollivanders’,” Snape answered, glaring at Hermione as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Ah,” Jason said, nodding. “Well, when he gets back, I’ll start working with him.”
“We’ll send him to your office,” Dumbledore said.
Jason bowed his head respectfully to the headmaster. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’ll be in my office.”
“Yes, of course, you may be excused,” Dumbledore said. “Professor Snape. . .”
Snape nodded. “I’ll be in the dungeons, should anyone require my assistance.”
“Don’t let the door hit you in the ass!” Isabene said sweetly as Snape walked away.
He glanced over his shoulder long enough to shoot her a glare before disappearing down the stairs.
Hermione sighed dreamily as Jason left the room. “Isn’t Professor Scott cute?”
Harry nodded. “Oh yes!”
Isabene raised an eyebrow, casting a glance at him. Ron glowered at both Harry and Hermione.
“Come along, famed Aurors,” Isabene said, heading toward the stairs. “We’ve got to start putting together a training regimen for Eric.”
******
Eric looked skeptically around Diagon Alley. He’d never seen so many people that dressed the part of a wizard or witch. Even as he looked around, he kept expecting to wake up and find himself in bed, Krista beside him. As he followed Mackenzie further into Diagon Alley, he became more aware of the fact that it wasn’t a dream.
She led him toward a shop, with a sign above it that read “Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.” Eric nodded as he saw the wand displayed on a faded purple cushion in the window.
“So this is where I get my wand?” he said, glancing at Mackenzie.
She nodded. “Everyone buys their wands from Ollivanders,” she said.
Eric raised an eyebrow. “He’s that good?”
“That and he’s the only wand maker in London,” Mackenzie answered with a smile.
“Oh,” Eric said. He opened the door to the shop and motioned for his mother to step inside.
The shop was quiet and Eric could see shelves upon shelves filled with narrow rectangular shaped boxes, stacked nearly to the ceiling. He could feel something in the air, almost like a charge.
Suddenly he jumped as he heard a quiet voice from behind him say, “Good afternoon.”
“Mr. Ollivander!” Mackenzie said, smiling.
The old man smiled softly. “Ah, Mackenzie,” he said, his eyes on Eric. “So, Fyril Snape, at last. I expected you in here years ago.”
Eric frowned. “Huh?”
Ollivander continued to gaze at him, then nodded. “Yes, I can see the resemblance to Severus,” he commented. “As I recall, your father’s wand is made of ebony, ten and three-quarters inches in length and containing the hair of a centaur.”
Eric frowned. “What does it matter?”
“It matters, Eric,” Mackenzie said, winking at him. “Be impressed that he remembers the exact details of a wand he sold your father YEARS ago.”
“Good point,” Eric muttered.
“And your mother,” Ollivander said, glancing briefly at Mackenzie. “She favored a cedar wand. Eight and a quarter inches in length, containing the feather of a hippogriff.”
“A hippo what?” Eric said, blinking.
Mackenzie smiled. “Tell you what, once we leave here, we’ll go over to Flourish and Blotts and buy you a copy of Newt Scamander’s Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.”
“Excellent idea,” Ollivander said. “Now then, young Master Snape, tell me, which is your wand arm?”
Eric raised his eyebrows. “My wand arm?”
“Are you right handed or left?” Ollivander said.
“Oh. . .uh. . .right,” Eric answered.
“Hold out your arm, please,” Ollivander requested, a measuring tape magically appearing in his hand.
Once he’d finished measuring Eric’s entire body--much to the young man’s annoyance--the old man went over to a shelf and selected a box. “Here,” he said, removing a wand from the box and presenting it to Eric.
Looking skeptically at the wand, Eric took it in his hand. “O. . .kay,” he said. “Now what?”
“Wave it about,” Ollivander suggested. “See how it fits.”
“Um. . .okay,” Eric said. He halfheartedly waved the wand left to right.
His eyes widened as a stack of books on a counter flew off the surface.
“Apparently not the right one,” Ollivander said, gently taking the wand from Eric’s hand. He replaced it in the box and put the box back in the appropriate stack. Wiggling his fingers in the air, he selected another box.
“Try this one,” he said, pulling the wand from the box and offering it to Eric.
“Sure,” Eric said, taking the wand and waving it about. He winced as a stack of boxes containing wands overturned.
“It’s quite all right,” Ollivander said, seeing Eric’s expression. “It takes only a few seconds to clean that up.”
“You must be used to that kind of thing by now,” Mackenzie said.
Ollivander nodded as he searched for another wand.
******
Some time later, Eric rolled his eyes. He swept his eyes around the shop, taking in the number of rejected wands. Ollivander was at the back of the shop, looking for another for him to try.
“C’mon, let’s just go,” Eric said, turning to Mackenzie. “I mean, it’s obvious that I’m not gonna find a wand that works for me.”
She shook her head. “No, we must keep trying,” she said. “There is a wand somewhere in this shop for you.”
“Have no fear!” Ollivander called from the back. “Never has there been a witch or wizard that has walked out of Ollivanders’ without a wand.”
“Yeah, but don’t you think this is a sign?” Eric protested. “I mean, I’ve tried just about every wand in this place. I don’t think I’m cut out for this wizard stuff.”
“Oh Fyril, you mustn’t give up,” Mackenzie admonished. “You come from a long line of witches and wizards.”
Eric snorted. “Yeah, and one of them is the most evil wizard of all time.”
Ollivander returned from the back, baring a narrow box in his hands. “Oh, don’t fret, young man,” he said. “Why, Harry Potter himself was more difficult than you to find a wand for. He was a tricky customer indeed.”
“You do have to admit, Mr. Ollivander, my son must be in serious contestation for the most wands ever tried.”
Ollivander laughed. “Yes. Mr. Potter only tried a few more than he,” he said. “I think this is the one.”
He uncapped the box and removed the wand. “It’s made of ebony, like your father’s, but contains the hair of a sphinx,” he said. “And not just any sphinx, but the very same one that allowed Harry Potter through during the third trial of the Tri-Wizard Tournament.”
Eric raised an eyebrow. “I’m supposed to be impressed?”
Mackenzie looked embarrassed as Ollivander cocked an eyebrow upward. “Forgive me, Mr. Ollivander, he’s only recently learned that he’s a wizard. He isn’t up-to-date on everything just yet.”
“Ah,” Ollivander said, nodding. He resumed his explanation of the wand. “Ten and a quarter inches in length. Just a tad bit shorter than your father’s.”
“So what makes you think this is the one?” Eric asked.
“Here,” Ollivander said, offering him the wand.
Rolling his eyes, Eric took the wand. “It isn’t going to. . .” His voice trailed off as he suddenly felt a warm feeling spread from the wand into his hand and down the length of his arm. He watched, fascinated, as little blue sparks flew from the tip, whirling in a circle in the air above it.
Mackenzie smiled, a proud look on her face. “I told you we’d find you a wand.”
Eric nodded, blinking at the wand. It still seemed surreal. It didn’t seem possible that he could be a wizard.
And then a little voice inside him reminded him that he was a Power Ranger and had friends that were from the future.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Ollivander,” Mackenzie said. “We’ll take this one.”
She pulled some coins from her purse as Ollivander gently extracted the wand from Eric’s hand and placed it back in its box.
After she’d paid for the wand, Mackenzie and Eric left the shop. “Now then, let me think,” she said, tapping her chin. “Is there anything else pertinent that you need?”
“I’ve got a wand,” Eric said. “What more do I need?”
“To know how to use it,” she answered. “Professor Scott will work with you on defense. Severus will probably want to have a hand in your training.”
“That’s all well and good, but while we’re standing here talking about it, god only knows what my grandfather is doing to my wife,” he said, putting a sarcastic emphasis on the word ‘grandfather.’
Mackenzie sighed, then nodded. “Come. Let’s get back to Hogwarts.”
******
Eric and Mackenzie joined Snape, Isabene and Dumbledore in the Defense of the Dark Arts classroom. While mother and son had been away, Sirius Black had joined the group. He and Harry were chatting quietly to each other. Hermione and Ron stood off to the side, smiling shyly at one another.
“Ah, Eric,” Dumbledore said, smiling. “I trust you were successful in finding a wand.”
Eric nodded. “So where’s this Defense Against the Dark Arts dude so I get to training and rescue my wife?”
“Behind you,” came a familiar voice.
Eric raised an eyebrow, trying to place the voice. His eyes widened as he realized who it belonged to. “Jason?” he said incredulously as he turned to face the newcomer.
Jason Scott grinned as he walked down the staircase leading from his office to the classroom. “Hey Eric,” he said. “How ya doing?”
Hermione blinked in surprise. “You two know each other?”
“We met through mutual friends,” Jason said.
“Ah,” Hermione replied, nodding.
“I didn’t know you were a wizard,” Eric said.
Jason nodded. “It came as a bit of a surprise to me too,” he responded. “So I hear Krista’s in trouble.”
Eric made a face. “Yeah.”
“So I guess we’d better get started on teaching you how to use your wand,” Jason said.
“All right,” Eric said reluctantly.
“If you all don’t mind, I think Eric would be more comfortable having his lesson in private,” Jason said, addressing the others gathered in the room.
Snape looked unhappy about that. “If you insist.”
Eric nodded and Snape curled his lip upper in displeasure. With a swish of his robes, he left the room, followed reluctantly by Mackenzie.
“If you require any assistance,” Dumbledore said to Jason. “I am but a fireplace away.”
Jason grinned. “No problem, Professor.”
Once they were alone, Eric glanced at Jason. “I don’t understand why I have to learn all this magic mumbo jumbo shit,” he said. “Can anybody else say Quantum Ranger?”
“Can anybody else say low profile?” Jason retorted. “Eric, buddy, listen, I’ve been in your shoes. I know what it’s like to learn that you’re a wizard. It’s a shock. I mean, we’ve spent most of our lives thinking that magic and wizardry were stuff of movies and books. And now, all of the sudden, we’re supposed to accept that it really exists? So yeah. . .you’re having a hard time acclimating. I can understand.”
Eric scowled. “Look, I didn’t ask for-”
“Nobody ever does,” Jason interrupted. “But you’ve been given a gift, Eric. Now it’s time to learn to use it.”
“I can get Krista out without any of this magic,” Eric argued.
Jason shook his head. “I don’t think so, bro,” he said. “Voldemort is more powerful than you think. I know you never faced off against her, but Voldemort makes Rita look like a toy doll.”
Eric raised an eyebrow. “So you’re gonna show me how to use my wand?”
Jason nodded. “It’s what I do as the DADA professor.”
“Then let’s get started,” Eric said, taking his wand out of its box.
Jason smiled. “Okay.”
“I’m curious though,” Eric said.
“About?” Jason asked.
“How you became a wizard,” Eric responded.
Jason smirked. “I was born that way.”
Eric rolled his eyes. “Smartass. I meant, when did you know?”
Jason blushed. “Not until after I was a Ranger,” he said. “My mentor, Zordon, was the one to tell me he sensed magical talent in me. He told me the Ranger powers were dangerous for me to use if I wasn’t trained as the magic started to manifest.”
“Oh,” Eric said.
“So, I left Angel Grove on the pretense that I was attending a peace conference in Geneva with two of my fellow Rangers, Trini Kwan and Zack Taylor,” Jason continued. “They went to Geneva. . .I came here to Hogwarts.”
Eric nodded. “And now you get to teach me.”
Jason grinned. “Right. If you ever stop asking questions long enough for me to begin the lesson,” he teased.
“Hardy har har,” Eric grumbled. “Okay, Teach, teach.”