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The Slytherin Dungeons

The Making of a Dark Lord...


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... will always go unnoticed. That is what one must remember.

 

At first, all you see is some weird kid with an awkward behavior. That is what you'll remember when you'll be speaking of Edgar in a few years. Some solitary kid with average grades who went mostly unnoticed among exuberant, popular kids. That's typical.

 

This first morning, in the common room, Edgar was sitting on an old cushion that had been discarded and kicked in a corner. He was everything but a bookworm, having been used to indulge in hard physical work - not even to play, not even for sports. And now he was poring hungrily into a book about the Dark Arts... a whole universe was being opened to him, through the means of that tiny, unimportant looking wooden object... a wand on his lap.

 

"I am a wizard", he thought, "and I will work hard to become a powerful one. I don,t want to let anyone hurt me anymore. People will remember me, they will have to go through what I went through."

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Edited by Edgar Golham
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BJ came into the Slytherin common room to sit by the fire it was almost curfew time when he arrived there with his summer history of magic homework almost done. It was still a few weeks until classes would start for next term, but some of the students were allowed to come back to school early to hang out with their friends if they chose to or had no were else to go. When he got there he saw a little boy he didn't know reading something interesting. A book on dark arts so he decided to walk up to this little boy.

 

"Hi my name is BJ. I see you are reading a book on dark arts I fancy dark art myself actually. My father knows plenty of dark magic to be honest he was a deatheater in the last wizarding war. So anyway what's your name?" BJ said this with a friendly smile on his face.

 

After BJ said this he summond a cushion and sat next to the little boy waiting for him to answer.

Edited by Bull J. Johnson
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Edgar blinked as he saw a cushion soar toward the older boy on its own accord. How he longed to learn how to do such things too! He rubbed his forehead hard, then held his hand away from his face, flexing his fingers with a delicate caution, not looking at BJ in the eyes. it took him a moment to classify the information provided by the student in his head, and he replied:

 

"BJ. Your father was a Death Eater. I would like to know more about you an your father. My name is Edgar." His voice was oddly toneless and creepy, almost like that of a Muggle computer.

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Rosemarie Halliwell had been sitting comfortably on a nearby couch reading Prefects Who Gained Power and mentally planning the conclusion of an essay she had for summer homework when she overheard the conversation between BJ (who she knew, because he was in her year) and what looked to be a new first year boy. Edgar. She committed the name to memory when she heard it.

 

She had rolled her eyes at the first year's choice of reading material and sneered when BJ mentioned he liked the Dark Arts too, but she decided she had to say something when BJ announced that his father was a Death Eater and Edgar asked more about him (in the middle of the Common Room where anyone could hear them, no less) and sighed as she placed her bookmark into her book and stood up from her comfy seat.

 

She walked over to the boys and crossed her arms (being sure to leave her shiny Prefect badge visible), looking back and forth between them.

 

"Could I remind the two of you that the Dark Arts are highly dangerous, not to mention illegal?" she hissed. "Perhaps you should take care of people overhearing your discussions of them." She looked around to see that a couple of first-years were looking at them. They turned away when she met their eyes. She lowered her voice even further. "Some Slytherin students would avoid you because your father was a Death Eater, Bull. And most of the rest could probably say the exact same thing if they were foolish enough to admit that to just anyone." She uncrossed her arms and flipped her dark hair back over her shoulder. "It would probably be smart to avoid showing off spells you shouldn't know how to perform, also." She sneered. "Everyone knows that the summoning charm isn't taught at Hogwarts until 4th year." She glanced at Edgar and then around the room again to see the first-years were staring at them again. She glared at them until they got up from the old grey couch they were sitting on and hurried out of the Common Room. No one else seemed to be listening to their exchange.

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At the very moment a beautiful dark-haired girl approached them, Edgar respectfully stood up. Was it out of an old disciplinarian habit that was forced onto him, no one knows. But it may have had its effect. The first year's brown eyes noted Rosemarie's badge and nodded in acknowledgement.

 

At Rosemarie's mention of allusions about the Dark Arts being illegal, he said: "No, Prefect, I did not know that they were illegal, but dangerous, yes."

 

He noticed that some first years, who, oddly, were more his age, looked more fearful and boring than older people like BJ.

 

"My father is a Pureblood, and he was in Gryffindor", he said to Rosemarie. "I want to learn all about magic. We never know. If you learn about evil things,, you can see them coming at you, don,t you? BJ's father was a Death Eater; it doesn't mean he'll be a Death Eater. Voldemort no longer exists. He knows better."

 

He looked at her as she flicked her long dark mane away from her face. She was beautiful, a bit like a wild mare running freely in a field. "I don't do anything with my wand yet. But I can feel its power in my hand. It feels great. And I like pretty girls."

 

He reached up to his forehead, rubbed it a little, and thoughtfully flexed his hand like a musical conductor.

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BJ looked at Rosemarie, stood up and said loudly so the whole room could hear. "Listen Rosiemarie I don't care what my father was I'm not proud of what he did, but he did what he did and he was who he was. If people want to avoid me, because of what my father was they have a right to do that, but and I and I quote. I will not hide what my father was or where I come from. And I'm only interested in the dark arts because my father use to use them and I want to know about who he was. I want to understand where his mind was and why he did all of those awful things. Just because I'm interested does not mean I'll use them on anyone ever. All it means is I can understand this kinda magic and maybe where he was coming from so long ago. Is that ok with you Miss. Halliwell if I learn about who my father and mother was and their kinda magic?"

 

BJ then very upset but happy he stood up for himself sat down on the cushion.

 

"Anyway Edgar yes my father was a DeathEater many years ago and he still tells me stories about those days. But personally I just want to understand more about the magic my father has talked so much about. From his stories it seems a wonderful time to be alive. Personally I don't know if hurting people like he did was right. I don't think I'd ever use it on anyone unless I had no other choice and this was the last resort to keeping me and others safe. I'd love for them to teach this at Hogwarts just so we can be prepared incase someone else has the idea of ever being another Dark Lord."

 

BJ then sighs and drops his shoulders in defeat.

 

"Anyway nice to meet you hope to talk to you again. Knock on my dorm door if you ever want a private talk or you want some candy I always bring loads to share with everyone and love visitors, not to mention I have a open ear for anyone who wants to use it."

 

BJ smiles at Edgar then gets up and walks to his dorm room.

 

(PS... If you want to continue this in pm with me Edgar pm me.)

Edited by Bull J. Johnson
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Rosalie strolled into the common room, her black leather messenger bag strung over her shoulder. It was filled to the brim with books she'd need for the classes she had this term. She glanced around with her terrifying steel colored eyes. They finally landed on Rosemarie talking to two other boys... it seemed to be an argument and Rosalie happened to love arguments. She never sat back and watched; she'd rather join in on the right side than not participate at all. Her nose crinkled at the sight of the three, her only real friend in that group being the elder Prefect.

 

"Rosemarie, what's going on here?" she called out. She strolled over to the group, raising an eyebrow at the other two. She might have been petite but she certainly didn't take sass from anyone that seemed to have more than she did.

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As people tarted crowding up around them, talking loudly, Edgar's first reflex was to withdraw into his shell; usually, at the ward, when patients would start stirring, it would eventually end up with them getting hustled around and given sedating shots. He had learned to evade such unpleasant experiences by remaining calm, at least in appearance.

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February over hears a conversation about Death Eaters and the Dark Arts. She decides to poke her nose into the conversation.

 

"The Dark Arts! Ah, yes, often chosen to be studied by those who believe their power has been taken away and they are looking for a way to get that power back. Mom told me all about it after my uncle was killed by Death Eaters.

 

The really odd thing about this kind of power, though, is that you're actually giving up power to aquire it. For example, you are going along your merry way and make a comment which, unknown to you, hurts someone's feelings. Let's say that person decides to get revenge. Once that person makes that decision, they have just handed their power over to you - they have decided that the comment of an unknown stranger is of so much value that it has the power to upset them, control their feelings, and to control their actions. They literally give up their power. In my mind, true power is being aware of your hurt feelings, giving the stranger the benefit of the doubt, and walking away and not allowing the comment to have any more impact on the rest of your day.

 

Granted, we do need to learn how to defend ourselves. Not everyone sees life as I do and will attack with full force, and I'd be foolish not to know how to protect myself. But I choose not to see the world as enemies and people i need to get vengenance upon.

 

My idea of power is to act and not react, and they aren't the same at all. Most of the time, I have the freedom to decide how to respond in the way i see fit, and not as a puppet who reacts to the people around me. I am a Slytherin - I am cunning. I want power for myself, and not give it away to some silly, vindictive stranger.

 

That's how i see it, anyways. I'm not interested in learning Dark Arts, but Defense sounds interesting. I think i'll take that course next term."

 

February walks off to feed her cat, Snarks.

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Edgar looked up at the girl turning her back on them afer having basically lectured them on how saintly she was. That, at least, was how it felt to Edgar.

 

"That is taken from a book right? Well, in life, things don't always work that way. Try convincing someone that their Death Eater torturer 'won't spoil their day' if they just walk away and stop thinking about it. That fairy tale doesn't make any bloody sense."

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February overhears her fellow student's comment, and responds, "Yes, sometimes you do need to defend yourself, as I said earlier. Not everyone sees things as I do. But this is very different from seeking revenge. I'll think stick to learning Defense."

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"Both of your get off your high horses!" Rosalie snapped. She glanced over at February. "I suggest you don't make anymore arguments. You're being silly and irrational. And you, Edgar, stop acting like you're the biggest and baddest thing here. Put away that book about the Dark Arts and study the defense against it. Not like you'll ever become the next Dark Lord; that position is going to be taken up by Professor Marin-Booth." she rolled her eyes and jutted out a hip, putting her well manicured hand on it.

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Instead of replying "mind your own business" to Rosalie like he had been very tempted to do, Edgar stood up and went to his dorm, most likely to put the book away.But then he didn't come back out...

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Alaia paused before stepping into the common room, it was important for her to be looking her best for this first foray into the Dungeons since leaving her student days behind her. She knew she looked stunning in her silver robes, but took a moment to compose herself and make sure not one single hair was out of place.

 

Finally satisfied with her appearance, Alaia fixed her trademark smirk on her face and stepped through the doors. Her green eyes scanned the common room, looking for a situation that she could use to her advantage. It would be important to start the year off in firm command of the students.

 

Cody and Ashley appear to be making an early start on the season. Alaia thought to herself as she spied the Slytherin Quidditch Captains in SQT's usual corner, they appeared to be drawing up practice rosters. She wandered over. "Welcome back you two. Let me know when you need the quidditch pitch, the lazy lions wont even have started thinking about the season yet, I should be able to book the pitch out for whenever you need it. Also, I've brought my beaters bat with me again this year, I will of course be at your disposal should you need me. Oh, and if you happen to see Mr Greb anywhere, send him to my office, I need him...."

 

Alaia broke off mid-sentence as she heard raised voices from the other side of the room. "Excuse me, it appears I may need to bang some heads together".

 

She walked off across the room to where her prefect, Rosemarie, and promising student Rosalie appeared to be having some sort of confrontation with another student. She also spotted what was obviously a first year making a fast exit towards the dormitories.

 

"Rosemarie, Rosalie, hope you two had good summers". She didn't wait for a response. "Is there something going on here I should be aware of?"

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February walks out of the common room in stunned silence, amazed that a staff member would call her opinion silly and irrational, with a suggestion that she stop voicing her opinion, especially since she thought her opinion was polite and another way of backing up the Prefect. Guess not. She had just wanted to fit in. Her feelings hurt, decides to start avoiding the common room. February is very smart and will focus on her classes and earning points for her house, rather than interacting with her peers. Edgar can have his Dark Arts, and Rosalie can have her silence.

Edited by February Fortescue
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"Hello Alaia," Rosalie smiled at the professor, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Rosemarie and I were just trying to settle things down over here... Seems as if one of our new students has a thing for practicing the Dark Arts. We made it quite clear that it's not appropriate for his age. One of the others, I think her name is February? She just started ranting on and on and it was starting to just annoy everyone. You might want to have a talking to them, though. They probably need it."

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Edgar paced in the the deserted dorm. Why wouldn't people leave him a bit of elbow room? He had just barely left the stiffened confined of a mental ward where any form of intimacy was impossible; here, in this heavenly place, the last thing he wanted to experience was that all over again. But he did bear in mind what the lecturing girl had said. Lowering himself on all fours, he scrambled under his bed and started studying the wooden floor, in quest for a loose board. "It should be easy here, it's not made of tiles like the one at the ward", he thought. Soon enough, his wish was fulfilled. The board was carefully lifted - the process left him with a broken fingernail, but it was well worth it - and he hid his book before putting it back into place, being careful to blow some of the dust kittens over it to conceal it as it was.

 

Then, scrambling out from under the bed, he brushed his robes, a fat tear rolling down his cheek as he held his finger with a broken nail up. Nothing could ever be worse than hurting your hands.

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Alaia looked past Rosalie to see February walking out of the common room. "She looks rather upset, perhaps I will talk to her. Carry on girls, and don't forget the staff meeting tomorrow. Professor Marin-Booth expects to see everyone there".

 

She walked quickly out of the common room in time to see young February disappearing around a corner in the corridor. "Miss Fortescue, may I have a word" she called out.

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"Certainly, Professor," February responded. "I was just on my way to do homework."

 

"Edgar - sorry i was so rude to you yesterday. Someone I cared about very deeply was into the Dark Arts and no one intervened. i was hoping i could show you a different way, but now I realize that may have come out wrong. It's none of my business."

Edited by February Fortescue
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Her long black robes flowed behind her like an ebony waterfall as she walked down the corridor leading to the common room. It was a very rare occasion to see the head of house in the common room. The only time she would frequent it was when she was looking for disruptive students or her prefects. Other than that, she had not graced the common room often since her years as a Slytherin student. However, with the first years getting accustomed to being in Slytherin, she felt it was her duty to show them that she was there and that she would be watching them, even from the shadows. She felt the presence next to her and looked down at the snake slithering along side of her. She had formed a bond with the house pet since becoming the head of house and he was always in her vicinity especially if it meant dinner for him.

 

She paused outside of the common room entrance to check her appearance. She put a stoic look on her face and entered the room. Her eyes scanned the room as she made her way around the room with the pet right beside her. Yes she did smile and have fun however, this wasn’t the time for that. The new Slytherins needed to know that was a no nonsense person. So her stoic look stayed plastered to her face as she just slowly made her way around. Her eyes caught some of her Quidditch players and with a half smile, she nodded to them.

 

“I hope you all are ready for the new season?”

 

She let the question linger in the air before continuing.

 

“I know that Quidditch cup will be in my office at the end of this season.”

 

With that said, she continued to roam the common room listening in and nodding to her students.

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Edgar turned around and glanced at the apologetic girl. He didn't know exactly what to do... no one had ever apologized to him. But it felt good enough to soothe his feelings somewhat.

 

"It's okay", he said. "I'm only studying them, you know. And Defense too."

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February smiles at Edgar. "I understand what you're saying. I've been studying,too. I'm embarrassed to admit this, but my Astrology 101 coursework is almost finished - including the extra credit. I'm after points. I think I'm going to study and spend less time in the common room. Good luck to you!"

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"And to you", replied the boy. Getting good grades and house points was their common goal as students, it went without saying.

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