The Fall of Dumbledore: The White King

I Need Protection...?

The warm glow of thousands of levitating candles bathed the cavernous Great Hall in an almost celestial radiance as Hades took his seat at the Slytherin table. All around him, the dull roar of hundreds of students caught up in their first fevered reunions filled the enchanted space.

Hades allowed his gaze to roam across the shadowy recesses of the hall, lingering on the dimly lit alcoves where the ancient house ghosts loomed. Beside him, Draco leaned in close, his lips pulling into a conspiratorial smirk.

"Just wait until the first years get a look at the Bloody Baron. I never get tired of watching their faces when that apparition goes gliding through the tables."

Hades matched his friend's feral grin, though his mind felt adrift. The encounter on the train with the dementor and Professor Lupin's unsettling revelation about Sirius Black had shaken him deeply.

How could that raving lunatic, that betrayer of his parents and ardent follower of the Dark Lord, have possibly been named his godfather? It seemed an insult to the memories of James and Lily Potter. Yet the anguish etched across Lupin's face spoke of a man haunted by unanswered questions and grim suspicions.

The sudden hush that fell over the Great Hall pulled Hades from his brooding reverie. Professor McGonagall was leading the long line of terrified first years between the house tables toward the staff dais. Hades watched with detached amusement as the motley gaggle of children gawked up at the bewitched ceiling with its drifting storm clouds and flickering lightning.

The ragged old Sorting Hat burst into its nonsensical welcoming song, and soon the yearly ritual was underway. Hades politely joined the obligatory applause each time a fresh-faced youth was swept into the ranks of Slytherin House.

Just then, a hushed murmuring rolled through the Great Hall as the unmistakable figure of Albus Dumbledore swept into the hall. The ancient wizard's robes were a deep plum, adorned with twinkling moons and stars that seemed to drift across the fabric like a living constellation. His long silver hair and beard were bound neatly behind him as he ascended the dais and took his place at the lectern.

"Welcome!" Dumbledore's voice rang out, amplified yet still kind as he beamed down upon the sea of students. "To our new faces, and those bright young things returning once more - welcome to another year at Hogwarts!"

Despite himself, Hades felt a slight sneer tug at the corners of his mouth. The senile old coot, spouted his usual tripe about the inviolable sanctity and safety of the castle grounds while ignoring the very real threat currently stalking its halls.

"As I am quite sure you have all heard by now," Dumbledore continued gravely, "a dark shadow has escaped from the confines of Azkaban Prison and now lurks in the world beyond these walls."

The normally genial wizard's face was etched in stern lines, his eyes hard like polished azure gemstones as he surveyed the students.

"I speak of Sirius Black, who as you know, betrayed the location of the Potters to Voldemort himself before the Dark Lord's first defeat."

A dismayed ripple coursed through the Great Hall at Dumbledore's fearless use of the Dark Lord's forbidden appellation. Hades felt a fierce ember of hatred flaring in his chest at the brazen disrespect toward his rightful master.

"While I have complete faith in the impregnability of Hogwarts' ancient defenses," Dumbledore went on solemnly, "as an added precaution, certain...uniquely vulnerable students shall be placed under the protection of a personal bodyguard detail."

With an elegant flourish of the robed wizard's hand, the massive double doors at the hall's entrance swung open once more. Nearly a dozen towering figures silhouetted against the ruddy torchlight slipped inside in perfect lockstep formation. Hades' eyes blew wide as he instantly recognized the signature brocaded robes and burnished griffon masks of the legendary Dansker Knights.

Dumbledore launched into a lengthy and droning explanation about the warrior monks' sacred oaths and jurisdictional authority, but Hades paid it little mind. His focus was riveted on the quartet of knights who had broken off and begun approaching the Slytherin table with purposeful strides.

He barely even registered the envious scowls and murmurs of confusion from his housemates as the hulking knights flanked his seat on both sides, coming to attention with a ringing clang of their armored boots.

"Harry James Potter," the lead knight's amplified voice boomed across the Great Hall, causing the young Slytherin to wince at the use of his reviled birth name. "By the authority vested in us from the Hogwarts Charter of Governance and the Ministry of Magic, you have been assigned to our protective custody. We shall remain ever-vigilant by your side until the fugitive Sirius Black is once more apprehended."

Hades could only gape mutely as the two knights took up flanking positions on either side of his chair, their armored presences enclosing him within a mobile phalanx of clanking steel and enchanted halberds.

Beside him, Draco had gone rigid with mute shock and jealousy. Crabbe and Goyle simply looked too dim to fully comprehend the proceedings. For his part, Hades shot a burning look toward the staff dais where his father sat impassively watching the proceedings with hooded eyes.

Rather than the anger or trepidation he might have expected from Severus Snape, Hades was almost disturbed to see an emotion bordering on...pride? Approval, even, as their gazes briefly locked from across the lengths of their respective tables. The feelings transmitted from father to son in that fleeting moment before the Potions Master's customary inscrutable mask slipped back into place.

As the feast got underway, the platters bursting into sumptuous arrays of roasted fowl, fragrant steaming vegetables, pitchers of chilled pumpkin juice, and dozens of other culinary delicacies, Hades had to admit a certain detached fascination. Here he sat, the son of Severus Snape and prophesied heir to Lord Voldemort's darkness...yet under the watchful protection of Dumbledore's vaunted pawns and elite soldiers of light.

He could not help feeling a simmering undercurrent of excitement at the thought of being the snake in that batty old phoenix master's proverbial nest this year. With a smirk curling his lips, Hades turned toward his hulking guard detail and nodded imperiously.

"You may commence your vigil, Ser Knights. Though I assure you, your services shall prove quite unnecessary before long..."

As the celebration swirled around him in a blur of music, laughter, and levity, Hades allowed his thoughts to drift to the Dementor's soul-rending assault aboard the Hogwarts Express.

Remus Lupin's anguished words echoed incessantly: 'The truth of your parents' deaths has remained shrouded in darkness for far too long, Harry. I implore you to listen with an open heart when you face Sirius Black - for I fear neither of you truly understands what transpired on that Halloween night all those years ago...'

Despite his skepticism, despite his ingrained hatred for the man who betrayed Lily and James Potter to their doom, Hades felt the first faint sliver of curiosity begin to take root. This year, he silently vowed, the truth would finally be brought to light.

No matter how ugly or painful it proved to be.

Much later that evening, after the last remnants of the start-of-term festivities had died down, Severus Snape's tall form materialized out of the shadows cloaking the Slytherin common room's doorway.

"Hades," the Potions Master intoned in that silken baritone, his obsidian eyes glittering in the low emerald light. "You will join me in my study for a time. There is much we must discuss regarding your...shall we say, augmented security situation."

Though the words were phrased as a polite request, both Snape and his son understood the underlying authority carrying the weight of a command. Hades felt a slight thrill skitter along his spine as he extricated himself from the plush couch and murmured his acquiescence.

Falling into step slightly