The Nightmare Man

Chapter Three

A short journey took Harrison up from the Ministry to a small street. He ventured out slowly and then jumped back. There were sounds.

Many, many sounds that was strange to his ears. There were so many sounds and they were loud. He clamped his hands over his ears and pressed back at a cold stone wall. The buildings were large and tall and he swirled around. The guard was standing silently near the exit to the Ministry, staring at him.

Harrison laughed. He laughed loudly. His eyes roamed wildly over the buildings and he was beginning to spin around staring at it all. He must look like a loony. He felt like a loony to be honest but the laughter wouldn't die down. It just got worse.

Finally he fell down. It was hard and his hands moved away from his ears. He felt the surface he was lying on. The guard stared down at him. Harrison grinned.

"This is tarmac," he said and knocked on it. "This... this is bloody tarmac. And those are walls, and the sounds... oh, the sounds!"

He got up and ran. He cast spells over himself and the guard still following him so they weren't noticed, and then threw himself into the crowds. He danced around people, dragged at their clothing, poking them and staring at their bags, their shoes and then the cars on the roads. He jumped in front of a few of them, escaped narrowly and when he had no time to dart to the side he simply jumped over them.

Finally he came back to the side of the road, trembling almost, and dragged the guard with him further down.

"So many people! Oh, I've missed people. Hearing them, seeing them... I want to destroy their happiness, their little bubbles of safety, it would be so fun! They're Muggles, the lot of them. I don't like Muggles. I've never really met Muggles who are completely nice to me."

He leaned back against a wall, calming down. The guard swallowed and said:

"Do you know... this place?"

"If I know this place? Lad, I may be old but I'm far from what you think. Of course I know this place. It's London, bustling, lively London! I really have to dig out those old memories. This is so much fun."

He ran further, dragging the guard with him all the way. Harrison watched the people, tripped them just for the hell of it, then played with cars and busses on the street. In the end he couldn't help causing a small accident between two cars.

Of course he knew of plains containing nothing but grass and the wind. He remembered the old times with dirty towns and few people. He remembered plagues and sickness that haunted villages and people's minds. He loved it. There were no cars or busses, people didn't walk around in trendy clothes and long heels. He remembered times with rough clothing and hard labour.

Not that he had done much of that, unless one counted the times he had to manually drag bodies around. That was hard for him. Rather his back.

So he remembered the old times, but what no one else knew was that he remembered the new times as well.

"I remember the previous minister came to visit me once, to tell me I could never survive in this society." Harrison looked around. "I'd never been told that before. I guess it's a good thing I waited until I came to a time I definitely knew."

"What...?"

He turned around to face the guard.

"You are really hanging on in there. I must applaud you, my good sir. You are a very stubborn thing."

He took the guard's shoulders and then strokes the pale skin.

"I existed a long time ago, that's definitely true. I haunted people's dreams, fuelled their fear. But I wasn't born a long time ago. I was born in this modern time. This, my dear, is my original time. I just happened to be thrown back into the past."

There was no helping; he danced around and laughed again. People glanced uneasily around them. They couldn't see him, or even hear him but they still knew something not nice was there. That just made Harrison laugh harder. He was happy. So, so happy.

"Here we go," he said once he calmed down. "We better get home. To my home. I need to get ready. And new clothes because these are really just... no. I stink. I want, no, I need to wash my hair."

He grabbed the guard and held on tight.

"I have so many things to do. The Nightmare Lord never gives up on terrorizing people when he has the change to do so."

He focused, and Apparated away.

-o-

Less than ten hours since Albus had come to the Ministry to discuss with Fudge what to do about the Inferi, he returned to pure and utter chaos.

James came jogging over, pale and haggard and followed by Sirius and Remus. Sirius zeroed in on Severus who Albus had asked to accompany him.

"Is it Voldemort?" Sirius growled at the pale man. "Is this Voldemort's doing, Snivellus?!"

Severus veered away before the man could grab him and said smoothly:

"I haven't heard anything about this."

Charred bodies were being covered up and spells were cast to try removing the blood covering the floor. The walls and floor were badly damaged and no spells seemed to remove the stains and burn marks. The atrium, once a proud sign of the Ministry, now looked like a battlefield. The smell of fear and death still lingered in the air.

"It's an unusual fire that made this," Remus said, covering his nose.

"How do you mean?" Albus asked.

"It's not Fiendfyre, or Incendio. They're trying to find out which spell was used to best fix it."

"How many dead?" he continued.

"Twenty and counting," James said. "Are you sure it's not Voldemort, Snape?"

"I don't know," Severus replied. "I just know I haven't heard anything about this. But I doubt it though. The Dark Lord is perhaps mad, but not mad enough to make a hasty attack on the Ministry."

"I have to agree with you, Severus," Albus said. "Where is the Minister?"

James went paler. "He... they're working on getting him... down."

He pointed. Albus and Severus looked up.

Cornelius Fudge was barely recognizable. He was hanging like a ragdoll, on display for all who cared to look. Blood had oozed out of numerous wounds, and his face was just a mess. Aurors held his body up to keep pressure from his arms that had been nailed to the wall.

"Dear god," Albus said. "If Voldemort hasn't done this, then who? Who could be this mad?"

"And strong," James said. "There are Aurors who died. It's skilful, those killings. Most of the people in the atrium died in the fire, but on the floors near the Minister's office there are signs of pure slaughter. Professional but bloody."

"Death Eaters?"

"No way. This is too good for them. No torture, just a single spell to kill several people in one hit," James said. "Then a trail of bodies, I think they tried to get the Minister out and got killed along the way."

"What enemy do we have besides Voldemort? Who is powerful enough to attack the Ministry but we've never heard of them before?"

They all stood silent after Albus' words, and watched how the relatively peaceful times they had lived through the last ten to fifteen years slowly drain away.

It was time for war.

Tbc...