Vicis

Chapter 13

Albus Dumbledore was sitting at his desk in his office. It had been a few days since he had spoken to Severus, and he was thinking. The portraits of past Headmasters of Hogwarts on the walls were regarding him with worried eyes. The old man had his hands clasped together, as if in prayer, and his eyes were clouded with his thoughts. Yesterday, at the latest Wizengamot meeting, Tom had shown himself.

He had appeared looking like Dumbledore imagined a middle-aged Tom Riddle would have, if the man hadn't twisted himself with dark rituals. His hair was a wavy brown, his eyes hazel, his handsome features not diminished at all despite his aging. He had proclaimed himself as Lord Julius Nepos, of a magical family long thought dead. Lucius Malfoy himself had supported and verified this, and that had been enough for the Wizengamot to allow him the long vacant Nepos seats.

He had not introduced any legislation, but already Dumbledore could see many members of the Wizengamot being charmed by his honeyed words, delivered on a snake's tongue.

It had not helped that later that day, there had been a raid on Hestia Brown's family and house, ending with her and her family dead. The house had burned down, and the Aurors had declared the whole scene an accident. An accident! Fudge was a bumbling fool. Couldn't he see what was before his very nose? One of his Order of the Phoenix members was dead, along with her family, and it was an accident.

He sighed, morose. Everything was collapsing around him. He had no doubt that Tom, in all his restored sanity and intelligence, had quite a plan. Truly, Dumbledore did not know how to fight against him anymore. Without Harry it was not even possible to stop the man. What plans could he possible devise? To send anyone after the man would be as good as killing them.

He blinked out of his thoughtful daze when the wards attached to the gargoyle at his office door pinged. He checked the magical signature, and frowned, puzzled. Two unknown men waited patiently at the door, and apparently only one had a real magical signature. The other had no real magic to speak of. Why they were alone, at his office door, he did not know.

Briefly, he considered letting them remain without opening the door, but that thought was quickly dashed. It was two unknown men in his school. To let them remain unsupervised would be folly, as they very well could be threats to the students. No, he had to let them in, if only to keep them from the students until he was sure they did not mean the students harm. He allowed the gargoyle to slide aside, the door to his office opening.

He waited for them to come up the stairs, using the time to gather his thoughts. If the men proved threats, the teachers would have to be noted. He frowned then, realizing he did not have time to warn Minerva before the men reached the top of the stairs.

The door to his office opened quietly, and one man entered with another following. The first man was handsome, in a very otherworldly way. His hair was pitch black, and fell down to just above his shoulders. His skin was pale, and his eyes were very unsettling. They were a very vivid red. The other man looked much like the other, although he was slightly smaller in stature, and his eyes were a vivid, ethereal green. It was immediately obvious that neither were human. What they were, he did not know, and this worried him, as he had thought he knew the vast majority of magical creatures.

The red-eyed one speaks first, his voice smooth as silk. "Albus Dumbledore," his voice has a mocking tinge to it, causing Dumbledore to narrow his eyes slightly. "This meeting has certainly been a long time coming. Perhaps more eagerly awaited on your side..." He adopts a mock thoughtful look, and Dumbledore already wants to snap. This man is remarkably good at getting through his self-control.

"I can assure you that there is nothing about this meeting I have 'awaited.'" His voice is clipped, and he nearly winces. That had come out sharper than intended. The man is good at getting through his self-control, indeed.