The Fall of Dumbledore: The White King

To Capture a Rat

The shadowed corridors leading toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts faculty offices seemed to stretch into infinite gloom as Hades followed Snape's urgent strides. His mind whirled with tumultuous thoughts, reeling at the implications of Pettigrew's inexplicable presence lurking somewhere within the hallowed halls.

Just as his father raised a fist to rap out a coded pattern against the reinforced oak door, it swung inward on its own accord, accompanied by a flare of warm illumination from within. Hades' grip instinctively tightened around his wand as Severus squared his shoulders in a distinctly aggressive posture.

"Gentlemen, I thought I might find you...lurking about at this unsavory hour." A tall, lean figure clad in threadbare robes filled the threshold, one eyebrow arched in mild amusement. Remus Lupin leaned casually against the doorframe, fixing Hades with a knowing glint in those amber eyes.

"Surely you didn't expect news of such a...delicate nature to escape my notice, did you Severus?" The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's rich baritone dripped with patrician insolence as he crossed his arms over his chest.

A poisonous glower twisted Snape's mouth as he loomed over the slightly stooped werewolf. "I should have known your insatiable nose for sniffing out intrigue would lead you poking about in affairs better left to those without a...debilitating furry condition."

To his credit, Lupin did not rise to the antagonistic barb. His infuriatingly smug smirk only broadened infinitesimally as he gestured for them to follow inside. "Yes well, what can I say? The whiff of treachery gets my hackles up every time."

Slanting Hades a weighted look from the corner of his eye, Lupin pivoted on his booted heel and strode back down the narrow office's interior. Despite his swirling apprehensions, Hades found himself trailing along entranced by the older wizard's casual arrogance. As ever in the shiftless vagabond's presence, a cyclone of contradictory emotions battered his psyche - distrust warring with a maddening desire to let slip the floodgates of doubt that Lupin seemed intent on eroding with his every enigmatic remark.

Once ensconced within the dimly lit front room lined with wheezing bookcases and strategic diagrams, Snape instantly rounded on the other professor with undisguised hostility. "You would do well to stay your meddlesome course this time, Lupin. Our...situation is delicate enough without your dubious influence muddying the waters."

At that, the werewolf's brows shot up almost comically high on his careworn features. "Oh come now, Severus. Skirting the edges of plausible deniability only goes so far when dealing with matters of such...delicate historical significance." Lupin's gaze settled firmly on Hades then, those piercing amber orbs seeming to bore straight through him. "After all, young Harry here represents the intersecting lines of a great many things. Knowledge, ignorance...truth and falsehood."

"Enough of your blathering riddles," Snape spat, very nearly bristling in his rage. "The rat has been spotted within these walls. The time for dissembling and plotting behind the scenes has drawn to a close. The veil must finally drop, once and for all."

Lupin's calculating demeanor shifted, revealing just a glimmer of something raw and feral lurking beneath the placid veneer. "Then let the great unveiling commence..."

As the two wizards squared off in tense opposition, Hades felt utterly adrift amidst the swirling riptides of allegiance and hidden agendas. The vision of Pettigrew's glowing name vector etched in his retinas only amplified the turmoil rattling his thoughts. Unable to withstand the madness any longer, he spun on his heel and stalked out of the anteroom without preamble.

Severus might have called after him then, or perhaps Lupin unleashed another mercurial play. Hades paid it no mind, desperate to flee the constrictive confines of their word games and intrigues. It felt as though reality itself had taken on a dizzying slant the moment Pettigrew's name manifested on that damned map. For once, the serpentine scion of Slytherin had no witty rejoinders or barbed threats at the ready.

Only raw, churning uncertainty.

The following morning saw pale rays of wintry dawn filtering across the trails of condensation clinging to the lakebed windows set high in the Slytherin dorms. Hades jerked awake, tumbling from the twisted tangle of his bed linens with a grunt of surprise. For a terrifying moment, his mind reeled in disorientation, unable to place the phantoms flickering behind his eyes.

Fragmented visions cascaded through his thoughts - anguished screams piercing frigid silence...gangrenous spumes of magic lashed outward in a singularity of destructive concussion...a looming moon eclipsed in veins of sanguine malice leering over a desolate hell-scape...

With a grimace, Hades scrubbed both hands across his ashen face and ran them through his disheveled black hair. Dispelling ghastly nightmares from his subconscious had grown more vital than ever lately. At this rate, he feared the strain might very well tip him into legitimate madness.

Speaking of madness...

Draco Malfoy's aristocratic pureblood sneer greeted him as Hades emerged into the dormitory's central antechamber. His best friend lounged across a plush divan with the arrogant indolence of a Russian tsar. "And here I thought you'd still be abed wrapped up in whatever flight of delusion kept you wandering the halls till all hours last night."

Despite himself, Hades felt a tug of exasperation at the blonde's mockery. The events of the previous evening had already made their way back via the school's efficient gossamer of rumor. Though precisely what warped iterations and distortions the actual truth might have undergone in transit remained to be seen.

"Delusions?" Hades countered with a quirk of one sculpted eyebrow. "Hardly. More like the opened floodgates of revelation we've all been seeking for far too long."

He moved to take the high-backed chair opposite Draco's splayed elegance, regarding his second shadow intently. Crabbe and Goyle loitered nearby, their thick foreheads shining with the sweaty dullard's concentration it took them to follow simple conversations. Still, even they appeared keenly interested in whatever profundities Hades alluded to.

"Go on, then." Draco's arctic stare narrowed calculatingly. "Do dazzle us peasants with the scope of your illumination. What grand portent did your moonlit wandering uncover this time?"

Rather than respond with his customary barbed retort, Hades held his friend's gaze with grim intensity for a long, taut moment. At last, he spoke in a low, almost conspiratorial murmur.

"Pettigrew. The rat traitor who sold my parents out to the Dark Lord. The map showed his name scurrying across the grounds last night..." Pausing for maximum impact, Hades allowed his words to detonate like a cluster of concussive blasts in the oppressive silence.

"And now the great game has finally begun."