The Burning Pen

A New Beginning
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 30

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 30 ~ A Hero’s Dilemma

A month later, Rod and Voldemort walked with the rest of the students to the Quidditch pitch. There was to be a match between Gryffindor and Slytherin today and excitement was high. The two houses were arch rivals and the games were often quite rough. The point spread between the houses was quite close and the winner of this match would pull ahead and be closer to winning the House Cup.

Rod took a seat in the highest row, away from his housemates. Tom sat next to him, scowling. He wanted to be closer.

One of the main support beams near the Slytherin goals had been hit by lightning the night before and the wood splintered. Gronin placed a binding charm on it, but a wicked wooden spike stuck out. Since it didn’t actually point directly on the field, it was deemed not to be a danger.

Not a good decision at all.

Rod watched excitedly as the game started. Rose Weasley was amazing, her thick auburn hair drawn back in a ponytail as she recovered the quaffle and made three goals in quick succession, zooming through the opposition as if they were made of water.

”Rose Weasley? Weasley?” Tom repeated as her name was announced several times.

Weasley was one of Harry Potter’s blasted friends. This witch was related to him?

”Get her,” Tom hissed at the Slytherins. “Stop her!”

It was as if the Slytherins heard Tom, as Rod scowled at the wizard’s hissed comments. His blue eyes drifted over to Freud, who was a beater and noticed him whispering to his two goon friends.

When Rod reported Freud and the others injured, after they were retrieved he was brought into the Headmaster’s office and questioned, then his wand checked. It was found that Rod had only cast the Petrificus Totalus hex, and that the resulting damage to his fellow Slytherins were rebounds of their own curses, all of which were Sectumsempra, a cutting spell created by the Half-blood Prince. This was considered dark magic and anything severed by the spell could not be reattached. Freud had lost his pinky finger. A test of the injured boys’ wands showed that they had indeed cast the spells and Rod got off with a lecture on coming for aid first before dueling.

Like he would have had time for that when he was being ambushed.

Needless to say the whole of Slytherin house was pissed at him, but very impressed because not only did he defeat three very good wizards, but was completely undamaged. But Rod was tired of them all and didn’t even acknowledge the witches when they purred at him. What happened spread around Hogwarts however, and now it wasn’t uncommon for Rod to be greeted by students of other houses, though he still hadn’t made any actual friends. It was a delicate area. He was still in Slytherin after all and technically that made him unapproachable.

“See how they all notice you?” Tom said to him, beaming. “It’s because you took those three down.”

”They took themselves down,” Rod said, “Now teach me what you promised.”

Rod showed some aptitude, but he couldn’t get the full effect of anger and darkness needed to do more than hover a few feet off the ground.

”Intent! You must desire this! Desire to fly! Think about all you’ve suffered,” Tom hissed at him. “Your fury will give you wings!”

Rod was happy he could get off the ground however.

”I just need to practice,” he told the disgusted spirit.

Hufflepuffs.

Rod watched Freud talking with his friends, then they all looked in the direction of Rose. One of the wizards flew to the goalkeeper and whispered in his ear. An evil smirk crossed his face and he nodded. Then they moved into position.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle. She was up in years but could still handle a broom as well as any student.

Rose flew forward toward the goal as the goalkeeper threw the quaffle toward Freud and the other two chasers bore down on Rose at an angle.

Rod’s eyes widened as he saw what was about to happen. Tom grinned broadly, his eyes flashing crimson. That Weasley was going down . . . permanently.

Freud slammed the quaffle directly into Rose, hitting her in the head as the two Slytherin chasers hit her so she flew toward the sharp spike of wood sticking out of the broken support bean. Everyone screamed.

”LOCOMORDRES!” Rod screamed, streaking from the stands at an amazing speed and grabbing Rose before she was impaled and flying the unconscious witch to safety as the stands fell silent, then went absolutely insane as he landed with her, laying her gently on the ground and calling for help.

Both teams landed, the Gryffindors charging Rod and covering him as his housemates sullenly stood around muttering.

“How did you do that?” the Gryffindors asked him as he came up for air, his hair still being ruffled as a medi-witch examined Rose, then had her taken to the infirmary.

”Just a spell I learned,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

Suddenly a tall form parted the Gryffindors and they fell back as the Head of Slytherin House scowled down at him.

”A very interesting spell, Mr. Dormers. A banned one as well. Who taught it to you?” the wizard demanded.

“Don’t tell him about me, Rod. You’ll get in more trouble than you know,” Tom hissed at him.

Stupid boy. He had told him time and time again he must not use the spell in front of anyone. Now he goes and uses it in broad daylight in front of the whole school, and to do what? Save a fucking Gryffindor. A Weasley no less.

Rod looked up at his Headmaster and shrugged.

Professor Darke gave him a nasty smile.

”You’re out of here, Mr. Dormers. The Aurors are going to want to speak to you . . . and they have ways of making you talk,” the wizard said, grasping him tightly by the arm and leading him away, the stunned Gryffindors watching.

A whistle sounded.

”All right, back to the game,” Madam Hooch said.

The two teams remounted their brooms and finished the match. It was an easy win since Freud and the two other teammates were taken out of the game for unnecessary roughness.

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Hermione was notified and quickly went to Hogwarts to see how Rose was doing. She found her daughter sleeping with her face badly bruised and her head wrapped. Hugo was with her. He popped up when his mother entered, Hermione shaking with fear as she looked at her daughter.

”A cracked head,” Madam Peabody said, “She’s quite lucky. If that boy hadn’t caught her, she’d be dead now. Impaled.”

“Boy? What boy?” Hermione asked, taking Rose’s hand and looking at Hugo.

”His name’s Rod Dormers. He’s a Slytherin. They arrested him, mum,” Hugo said, frowning, “Because the spell he used to save Rose is banned.”

”Arrested him? Oh my gods,” Hermione said.

It didn’t seem right for the wizard to be arrested when he saved her daughter’s life.

“What spell did he use?” she asked her son.

Hugo shrugged.

”I don’t know. I’ve never seen it before. But . . . mum, he flew!”

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The Auror took the veritaserum away from Rod’s mouth, his eyes narrowed as the boy relaxed. Several other stony-faced Aurors stood around him and the Minister of Magic himself was present, looking decidedly worried.

“All right now, who taught you that spell?” the Auror demanded.

Tom was present, pacing back and forth.

”Tom,” Rod replied hollowly.

The Aurors looked at each other, shocked and pale. The Minister of Magic stepped forward, his eyes wide.

“Tom Riddle?” he asked Rod, his voice quavering.

”Just Tom. He’s my friend,” Rod answered.

He never knew Tom’s last name.

”Where is he?” the Minister demanded, “Where is your friend Tom?”

Rod smiled and pointed at the spirit who stared back at him.

”He’s standing right there,” Rod said dreamily.

Everyone in the room looked where Rod was pointing.

”We don’t see anyone. There’s nobody there,” the Minister said frowning.

”Yes, he’s there. He’s looking at me. He’s mad,” Rod said.

”Not the only one mad if you ask me,” another Auror muttered, shaking his head.

The Minister looked at the Auror who administered the Veritaserum.

“Is there any way he can lie to us?” the Minister asked him.

”No. This potion is extremely powerful, Minister,” came the reply.

The Minister straightened and wiped his jowly face with one hand.

”It’s obvious the boy is mad. Send him to St. Mungos. Maybe they can find something out there,” he said, exiting the room, having no idea what he was going to tell the reporters.

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Hermione tried to get in to see Rod, telling the Aurors she was the mother of the witch he had saved and wanted to thank him.

”I’m sorry, Miss. But no one can see him. He’s being charged with Sedition,” the Auror responded.

”What? For saving my daughter?” Hermione demanded, scowling.

”No, for using a banned spell and not revealing who he learned it from,” the wizard replied.

Hermione stared at the wizard, then left the Ministry, furious. She returned to Hogwarts and spoke to the Headmaster. Jonathan Wumblewort shook his head in negation.

”There’s nothing we can do, Mrs. Weasley. The boy used a spell that’s been banned for almost two decades. The Dark Lord’s own. It’s very serious,” the wizard said, “And out of our hands.”

“But he saved Rose!” Hermione exclaimed, “That has to count for something!”

”I’m afraid Mr. Dormer’s chivalry has landed him in a hot cauldron, Mrs. Weasley. Most likely he will be sent to Azkaban for his use of that spell. It is considered as bad as an Unforgivable,” the Headmaster said sadly.

Hermione blinked at him.

”Well, where are his parents? Are they getting him legal representation?” she asked the wizard, thinking she might help them retain counsel. It was the least she could do.

”Mr. Dormers is an orphan, Mrs. Weasley. He was working his way through school, earning his keep. He has no family,” the Headmaster replied.

”No family? Who will provide his defense?” she demanded.

”The Ministry will appoint counsel,” the Headmaster said.

A Ministry appointed counsel? That was worse then no counsel at all. Hermione rose. Whoever Rod Dormers was, he had saved her daughter. She wasn’t about to let him go to Azkaban for being a hero, Slytherin or not. She said goodbye to the Headmaster then exited the school.

She needed to talk to Professor Snape.

He knew the same spell after all.

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A/N: Poor Rod. He’s in some deep doo now. :::shakes head::: Thanks for reading.

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