Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 69: It's an Impostor!
"You… You came into my school to kill one of my professors? Why?" Dumbledore moved forward with his wand in hand.
"Okay, let's calm down." Harry walked in between them. "I'm sure she had a good explanation for this…" He scanned the hallway. A bit further in the distance, he spotted the figure of the professor he had spoken with the other day, McGonagall.
As well as a little old man with a white beard who stood at her side.
"First of all, don't point that thing at me." Morgan glared at the Headmaster. "Second, I didn't kill him yet, and third… he is not one of your professors. He is an impostor!"
"An impostor?!" Dumbledore did a double check of the man on the ground, but no matter what, he still looked like Alastor Moody.
Harry got a better look at the man lying in a pool of his blood and gently waved his wand at him. "…This guy is dead," he then said.
"What?!" Morgan knelt down next to the man and checked his vitals. "Shit!"
"So you did kill him," Harry pointed out.
"The other part is still true. He is an impostor." She grabbed the corpse by the shoulder and turned it onto its back.
"What are you doing?!" Dumbledore sounded outraged.
"Albus! I'm going to call the Aurors," said McGonagall.
All of a sudden, the corpse began to shake, startling everyone present.
"Oh? That's…" Harry narrowed his eyes, noticing the small changes that were being produced on the man's face.
"Minerva, wait!" Dumbledore shouted. "Don't call anyone just yet." Just like Harry, the Headmaster had already noticed the changes.
A short moment later, the reaction became more violent, and the face of the dead man began to morph into something else under the watchful eyes of those present.
"Polyjuice Potion!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed. "Merlin! He was an impostor."
Morgan gave Harry a nudge on the arm. "Did you hear that?" she whispered.
"Urgg…" Harry rolled his eyes at her juvenile humor. She loved to point out how funny it was that everyone was now using his name whenever they became shocked.
"Who is this?" McGonagall asked as the new face began to take form. "He looks very young…"
Beneath the fake skin of Alastor Moody was a young man with short black hair and a well-chiseled jaw.
"No…" The Headmaster gasped as his skin turned pale. "It cannot be him!"
"Do you know him, Albus?" McGonagall asked.
"Obviously, he does," Morgan pointed out.
"Mmm?…" Harry knelt down next to the corpse. "There is something wrong with this body. It reeks of dark magic… it's kind of familiar."
"This is no doubt a dark wizard. It's not strange if you can perceive some unpleasant magic on him," Professor Flitwick said. "I can't believe he operated under our noses for months and none of us realized."
"Hold on. But if this is not Alastor Moody, where is the real one?" McGonagall asked.
Morgan pointed at the office. "I believe that must be the person who was trapped inside a dimensional briefcase. It's on top of the bed."
She then glanced at the Headmaster. "Well? Aren't you going to tell us who this guy is?" The only thing that she truly wanted to know was why this mysterious man had been lurking after Harry.
"That is… Tom R—"
"Get back!" Before Dumbledore could answer, Harry shouted.
The corpse emitted a sudden noise—a low-pitched buzzing sound that no one could identify, but when combined with Harry's warning, made everyone immediately alert.
They all took several steps back as black smoke started to pour from the corpse.
"What is that? A curse?" McGonagall said with widened eyes and her wand in hand.
"No, that is not a curse." It was Morgan who responded to her. "This is a… soul. A very corrupted one."
The smoke began to concentrate above the corpse and gain a humanoid shape.
Dumbledore stared at the vague face of the shadow with an appalled expression. His body had become frozen in place.
The shadow looked back at him and let out a sound that could easily be interpreted as a scream of pure hatred. Then, the figure looked up.
"Tsk! It's going to escape!" Morgan was about to take her wand out and attempt to stop the soul from fleeing when she was pushed back by a powerful wave of magical energy pulsating from Harry's body.
His eyes had turned completely white as his mouth moved faster than was humanly possible, pronouncing foreign words and weaving a chant.
The shadow was almost crossing the ceiling of the corridor when Harry's words became much louder and clearer.
"अनादिकालस्य कृते बद्धः (Bound for Eternity)."
His white eyes shone like beacons, and the shadow began to scream.
Luminous circles wrapped themselves around the ethereal entity, preventing its escape and bringing it back down.
The circles then expanded until their surface enveloped the shadow completely, forming a pure white sphere.
Harry extended his hand; the sphere flew toward him while shrinking until it was the size of a golf ball.
His eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for something. They landed on the Headmaster, and without wasting any time, Harry threw the imprisoned soul directly at Dumbledore's face.
Not being able to react to the sudden act, the old wizard lost his balance and ended up falling on his back with a loud thud.
"Albus!" McGonagall and Flitwick hurried to the old man's aid.
Meanwhile, Harry took a moment to exhale and break away from that state of focus. His white eyes regained their normal color, and the intense magical aura dissipated.
"That's new…" Morgan glanced at him with suspicious eyes. She had a good idea of what Harry had just done and where that spell had come from.
"It is," Harry simply responded, refusing to elaborate further. Instead, he walked up to the Headmaster as the other two professors were helping him off the floor. "Sorry about that. I didn't have much time to choose a container."
Harry reached over and grabbed the Headmaster's moon-shaped glasses, taking them off his face. "You don't want to be wearing these anymore."
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