Present Mixed in the Past

Chapter 42| Rage

Dumbledore raged once more in his room. It seemed to becoming more common since Harry had entered the school. It was hilarious to the Portraits! No matter how many times they have seen it happen, it was always more and more hilarious than the time before! It might have something to do with the fact that his facade cracks more every time. That his true self is being shown more and more. That he begins to use more and more Dark spells with every cursed word slipping from his rotten mouth.

Of course, with a few flicks of his wand, all damages were fixed, and the room's regular chaos was back. Yet, the air stayed tense and uneasy.

He slumped into his chair, his eyes narrowing on the hidden door to his prisoner. He wanted to hurt them, but he knew he would only kill them. No, he can't do that. That would have defeated the purpose of capturing them in the first place!

"I see he's back~" They called, snickering pitifully.

"You said I would win." Dumbledore growled, childishly stomping his foot.

"Only till they hold the snake head." The prisoner cooed joyfully. "What will you do now?"

"You're being unhelpful! Do you want your freedom! Do you want to stay my prisoner forever, you lowly bastard!" The Headmaster screeched, continuing his feet stomping.

"Please. I've delt with worse fates serving that clotpole when I was human. All I have to do now is wait for the Council to claim their thrones and bring that dollop to me."

Like a child, Dumbledore began to slam his hands on his hard desk, screaming and shouting about how he would never see this person ever again! How he would be forever chained in that room! How he would make a plan that this pathetic lamb couldn't break! He would find a way!

"Like the games?" The prisoner scoffed. "The games would never work, never be deadly enough. Not without someone important dying."

This oddly started all ranting, stopped all rage. It brought unease to the Portraits and the prisoner. More so when sudden laughter filled the room. It felt grating and slimy, the sound sticking and spreading like goo on everything.

Dumbledore grinned wickedly as he began to write a carefully worded letter to Fudge. Games! Why hadn't he thought of that! He could at the very least kill one of that boy's precious friends, perhaps make it seem like it was Voldemort's doing as well! It would cause tension between them at the very least!

"Maybe you're still useful after all, Great Sorcerer!" The greyed Wizard bitingly muttered.

With a flurry of his disgustingly colored robs, he left the room clutching that letter ever so carefully. He was going to make the games as dangerous and as difficult as possible. He was also going to make sure that Harry Potter will be seen as nothing more than an attention-seeker! It would surely diminish his reputation!

The prisoner frowned, shifting a little on his uncomfortable bed. He then smirked, giggling a little.

"You planned those words, didn't you, Wise One." The Black Headmaster called, a sinister grin on his face.

"Ah, no. It was merely a slip of the tongue, and how his plan was originally. It still won't work, though~"

Phineas Black laughed, leaning back in his painted chair with a haughty smirk. He looked proud of this knowledge. The others looked amused, all trying desperately to look to the hidden door.

"What will it do?" One of other Headmaster's asked, almost giddy with knowing more than the current fool.

"Oh~ Nothing more than bring Life to Death~"

Roaring laughter sounded from the Portraits, painted eyes gleaming in the light. Oh, they couldn't wait to see the games and much Dumbledore will break afterwards!