The Nightmare Man

Chapter Four

While the Ministry tried to recover from the attack, Harrison landed on his feet in front of a large set of gates, the guard holding onto him for dear life.

Harrison looked up at his home, smiling when he saw it was in perfect condition. He had deliberately set his private manor in a location where few would think to search for it, and he made people in the past believe it didn't even exist. The place he was caught in was a decoy, more or less, one he had made use of many times but he expected it had been destroyed shortly after the outcome of his trial and him being locked up in the underground prison.

However, he supposed the word manor wasn't really doing his home justice. It could almost be a castle due to its size, and it had towers. Several towers. Harrison did like his towers, and had spent a lot of time in the far past to make a home perfect for what he wanted and needed.

He opened the gates and started walking up to the manor. To be honest he didn't know how the inside looked like. He hadn't thought of telling anyone to keep it tidy and neat if he happened to be captured because he hadn't expected to be captured. If he remembered correctly his last order was to await his return.

There was only one way to find out. The set of double doors creaked opened as he closed in, and he entered almost dragging the guard behind him. Harrison stepped into complete darkness, only a bit of the hall illuminated thanks to the light coming from behind him. Still he could see the dust lay thick in the air. Harrison moved his arms.

Heavy curtains that kept the light of the day out were swept away from all the windows and said windows sprang open. With a snap of his fingers fires throughout the manor sprang up in the hearths and soon it was starting to feel much livelier.

Had he had house-elves they probably would have kept it clean for him but Harrison had never owned any. Why should he have house-elves when he could just take half-dead people and make them his servants? Perhaps they couldn't do all the things house-elves could but then again, house-elves weren't capable of all the things wizards and witches could do with magic.

Time to call on his servants. Another snap of his fingers and Harrison grinned as they came, silently crossing the floor to come closer. He was happy to see them. They weren't half-dead anymore, and didn't stagger, or moan, or held their arms out like in some bad zombie movies he had seen from the Muggle world. Movies he had seen in this time, in what felt like ages ago. Maybe he should refresh his memory, if only to get a good laugh about it.

Harrison knew people would never believe if he said this was truly his own time. Those few who knew about him assumed he came from a long time ago, a beast formed in a more uncivilized age. They couldn't be more wrong. He had been born as a normal child, by loving parents. It was what happened later in his life that made him into what he was today.

He gazed around as his servants gathered around him, silent, waiting for their master's word.

"Clean this place up," he ordered. "Everything, from top to bottom, alright?"

Several of them bowed and moved away.

"You," he told one, "prepare a bath and then get me some clothes. Inspect the ones here in the manor, I don't want anything rotten, mouldy or rags. I'm not thatcrazy. I don't believe my measurements have changed so if there's nothing here, get me a standard black robe until I can go properly and shop."

That man bowed as well and walked upstairs.

One woman, the head of the servants, stepped forward. Harrison remembered her when she was alive. She was a feisty, headstrong young lady, and he had enjoyed breaking her down. She no longer remembered that time, he usually erased those memories to ease their pain, and as a result she was stubbornly loyal to him and appeared to be that still after all these years with him locked away. Well, he didn't expect anything less from her.