I was walking quickly up towards the coveted seventh floor. I needed to release all my anger on the training dummies and walls. A thin trickle of blood seeped from my nose. I wiped it automatically with the back of my hand, leaving a rusty stain on the green cuff of my sleeve. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except reaching the seventh floor. I could smash the dummies to splinters without consequence.
Of course, the severed emotions had already returned, but the emotional emptiness was stronger than I'd thought, and the curse was trying to re-ignite the anger within. The trickle of blood was a reminder that I'd been without emotions for over two minutes. I think analyzing the situation in my head helped quell the rage. And I was clearly overreacting; I wouldn't have completely lost it. I just hate this damned curse! See, even thinking badly about the curse makes the anger grow. Lately, the curse's influence has been intensifying, and that's not good.
Right now, I wasn't exploding at everything around me in a frenzy, but the anger still came in waves — at Dumbledore, at the Azkaban prisoner, at myself — and it desperately needed a target.
My thoughts jumped, latching onto the image of the cunning Headmaster, then onto Sirius's smirk from that photograph. I tried to build icy walls in my mind using the mental sphere method, and it was even starting to help, but not completely. The problem was, I knew what Sirius's release would mean for the House of Black. Sirius out of prison was already a disaster for the house, let alone an officially exonerated Sirius, not an escaped one. He would finally destroy MY house! He would take away my right to what should be mine. And destroy it! I won't allow it!
I genuinely feared Dumbledore would manage to free him, and that angered me, infuriated me to the point of blood on my palms from nails digging into my skin. I knew how influential Dumbledore was. I had to… had to kill Pettigrew! If Dumbledore knew about the rat, he'd easily free Sirius, and if he didn't… then it didn't matter. Either way, rats deserve to die! And one day, the old spider would die too… though without Voldemort and the hunt for his Horcruxes from my future knowledge… I can't imagine what he might die from. Maybe I shouldn't sabotage his resurrection?
I struggled with myself, whispering curses and exhortations through my teeth. This wouldn't do!
"Calm down, Arcturus. Breathe. Just need to maintain control. Without control, I'm just a dumb animal! And then he'll definitely win." But logic skated on the surface, barely touching the magma below.
It was in this cacophony of internal struggle that I realized something was wrong. A thought snagged on something. Some factor was scratching at my consciousness. Preventing me from continuing to replay the newspaper headline in my head.
My perception abruptly narrowed, shifting some resources from internal chaos to the external world. I didn't turn around, but I quickened my pace. My hand instinctively reached for my belt, searching for another interesting potion. "Clarity of Mind" — that was the potion.
I kept it not for calming, but for a reset after everything. A potion that briefly forces neurons to work at their limit, sharpening concentration and memory, while burning away the remaining emotional fog from Total Suppression and the Potion of Icy Calm. The side effects were nasty — from splitting migraines to increased cranial pressure if you overdid it. But I felt I needed clarity now.
I pulled out the stopper and drank the contents of the small vial. A bitter, herbal taste, mixed with something vile… burned my throat. The effect was almost instantaneous. Everything became crystal clear for a moment, hyper-realistic, then settled back slightly. Ah yes, the potion is also addictive.
The pain in my temples intensified, becoming a pulsating pressure on my mind. At that moment, it seemed I could even push aside furious thoughts like the desire to kill that damned Sirius, even though he was my cousin.
I listened to the echo of my footsteps in the stone corridor, then stopped abruptly, trying to hear. My overclocked brain strained to catch sounds — and it succeeded. Yes, there was another echo. Unsynchronized and lagging. Clearly, several people.
Maybe it was Avery and Cassius? What terrible timing for them to start worrying about me! Had they noticed changes in me? That meant I was a poor actor…
Just let me, damn it, vent my anger and think in peace!
But what if it wasn't them… and why did that thought please me! Why did I want to be attacked! Calm down! You're not that stupid, Arcturus, calm down! Inhale, exhale, and think… think clearly.
I continued on my way and, turning once more in the right direction, instead of proceeding, I simply stopped and turned towards the footsteps. I stood near a tall window, hearing the footsteps around the corner become hesitant, then stop altogether.
"Stop hiding," I said, without raising my voice. The sound came out flat and emotionless, which, I thought, made it only more frightening, because I had to try hard to keep my voice from sounding angry. "Come out. Or do you plan to spend the rest of the day there?"
After a brief pause, hesitant shuffling followed. Three figures emerged from around the corner: of course, it was my old 'friend' Reed, Marvyn Burke, who tried to maintain his posture and project an air of being in charge, and Adrian — his tall, even-tempered friend who was also a decent duelist.
Three Gryffindors stood blocking the corridor. Burke at the front, with strained importance, looked at me, while Reed, smirking slyly, anticipated something. What? How should I know, I needed to think. Only Adrian looked truly formidable, because he wasn't making faces, just always looked grim and serious. The only Gryffindor third-year worth noting.
"Malfoy," Burke drawled, looking me over, his gaze lingering on the bloodstain at my nose. "Why aren't you at breakfast? Decided to take a walk on an empty stomach? And alone? Bold."
"Maybe you're lost? Your dungeons are lower… and at the other end of the castle," added his friend, while Reed remained silent for now.
"And do I have any reason to fear wandering the castle? The school, as far as I know, is safe for its students," I countered with a question.
"Who knows, who knows…" Reed said, glancing at Burke, who grinned approvingly.
"I'd like to know why you're following me. Am I really that interesting to you?"
"Think you're someone important, do you? That the three of us would specifically run after you?" Burke began, then his friend joined in. "Curb your pride, Slyther… Slytherin."
He clearly wanted to insult me by calling me a slug based on my house, but apparently didn't dare.
"We were just walking down the corridor," Adrian said, looking me directly in the eyes. "You approached us."
"Yes, exactly," Burke chimed in, emboldened by my calm and their numerical advantage. "I'm just curious what a Slytherin is doing so far from his den. And without his loyal lapdogs. Don't be scared. After all, we don't stab people in the back, we're Gryffindors. And you, clearly uncomfortable without your entourage, are imagining things about being followed."
"Burke… you'd better not tempt fate… today," I said coldly, though I knew they wouldn't back off. But I hoped…
"What will happen?" Burke stepped forward, his hand reaching for his wand. "Maybe you'll enlighten us?"
"The three of you have found some courage, I admit," I noted. Each syllable was an effort, as everything inside clenched, demanding action and a more violent response. "But has each of you forgotten what happens for such insolence towards me? Today will be bad for everyone if we don't part ways."
Burke frowned, his feigned nonchalance beginning to melt.
"Free school," Burke said, lifting his chin. "We can go where we want. What's your problem?"
Adrian frowned slightly but remained silent. He was observing and analyzing my reaction.
"You think that because there are three of you, you're strong enough against me? I don't need interference right now. You're out of place," I replied as dryly as possible, but it was the mildest, least provocative thing I could manage in such an agitated state.
The shadow from the tall window fell across half my face. I simply turned and wanted to end this before disaster struck, because my anger, like a coiled spring, held my body ready to unleash all its energy at the slightest touch. Now the anger was directed at these idiots… the curse just needed an excuse.
"Sounds like a threat," Burke parried, a note of challenge in his voice. "Or an excuse. Where are you off to in such a hurry? Demons chasing you? Lads, looks like the 'Prince of Slytherin' has very important business. Hah."
"Maybe we should go to breakfast," Adrian tried to smooth things over, to end it, but his tone had lost its earlier nonchalance. He understood that Burke was getting worked up, and I was already… "Leave it, Marv. Can't you see he's not in the mood?"
"Exactly, not in the mood," Marvyn's voice faded as I walked quickly away. "Or just scared."
"Just what you'd expect from a slug. Run, run, Malfoy! Hah…" Reed sneered nastily, thinking they'd put me in my place.
I honestly tried… but insult ME! Why were they so keen on living!? I stopped instantly and turned, trying with all my might to restrain myself from tearing these three apart. So much effort to avoid accidentally starting a conflict with someone… all measures and methods, and the conflict found me itself.
Burke snorted.
"Yeah… Maybe he really is scared, first time walking alone?" he forced out, trying to sound contemptuous.
But soon, no one cared about words. My eyes bored into their faces, burning with the desire to kill.
"Scared?" I laughed quietly, but the sound was dry, like cracking ice. "The three of you see I'm alone. You see that I… don't want to hurt you. And instead of leaving, you stand there and yap! I tried… tried not to KILL you! WHY!?"
The anger began to overwhelm me again, a little more and I would have completely lost it. But they! Aaaaah! I hate them! I hate everyone!
My fingers dug deeper into my palm, my teeth grinding from my tightly clenched jaw.
"Malfoy," Adrian said, realizing from my tone that this was a mistake. "No one was following you. It was a coincidence. We're leaving… alright."
He took Burke by the elbow, but Burke pulled away.
"Wait! He… He straight up said we were following him! Threatened us! And who does he think he is!" Burke wrenched his arm free, his face red with anger. "Do you really think we're afraid of you!? One against three? Think because you beat a couple of fifth-years, you're stronger than the three of us? Who do you think you are, Malfoy!?"
Silence hung in the corridor, broken only by my deep breaths. Merlin knew, I was trying to hold back.
Adrian closed his eyes for a second, realizing his attempt to prevent a fight had failed. His hand also reached for his wand — my look had them ready to attack. Reed paled, but seeing both his comrades ready, he too drew his wand.
The rage I had struggled so hard to contain finally found a legitimate target. Before my eyes, I no longer saw three foolish pups… they were already dead… NO! I mustn't kill, just teach them with pain! NOT kill, Arcturus!
Though, ha-ha-ha, how else will I make them understand they were wrong to insult me… no! I mustn't, maiming is enough. A few broken bones and cuts can be healed! They can be healed, right?
The main thing was to hold on and not drown in the heat of battle driven by anger.
One devastating motion of my hand would be enough — a clot of pure magical energy, a crude analogue of a banishing charm, would burst from my palm and sweep Burke away. I could already hear the crack of his ribs… breaking ribs. When mine broke, they cracked! Hah. And when I got closer and did the same, but with my wand this time, the ribs would definitely break. I imagined him flying into the wall and slumping down, silently gasping for air.
A vivid image formed before my eyes: Reed raising his wand, sending a curse at me, and his friend defending against another of my wandless spells. An invisible blade, weaker than Diffindo, but so unexpected, would slice the hand of stupid half-blood Reed, who never understood who not to yap at. On his wand hand, my analogue of a cutting curse — the pinnacle of my wandless spell analogues — would leave a bloody line across his torso. He would scream, clutching at the gushing wound. Yes!
Adrian, stunned, would attack me with a barrage of spells, but I would easily dodge, approaching him with predator's grace, getting closer and closer, and in the next second, a wave of raw magic would erupt from my wand. So powerful it would hurl him back like a ragdoll, his head striking a ledge on the wall, and he'd go still. Then I'd approach Reed, writhing in pain, look at his face twisted with fear. Raise my foot and with relish smash his head into the stone floor… perfect! YES! I'll maim them!
The picture was crystal clear, detailed, and a thousand times more pleasurable because of it. Irresistibly alluring! All my frantic, aimless malice found the perfect outlet in this vision. Against my will, an inhuman smile spread across my face — the snarl of a predator who had already mentally sunk its fangs into its prey's throat.
One moment. One movement, one lost drop of control — and this would become reality.
But at the very last moment, through the roar of blood in my ears and the sweet, poisonous call of revenge for a verbal insult, a thought broke through. So weak and pathetic it was almost disgusting at first, but with each moment, the thought grew stronger:
"Am I a dumb beast? Will anger make me great? Isn't the king of beasts just prey for man? Aren't the strongest monsters just ingredients for a wizard? I am a wizard, not a beast. Can I rise above all others by being a mad monster?"
A deep breath in and out. The smile didn't disappear, but twisted, turning into a contemptuous smirk. At that moment, I should have snapped, KILLED! Torn them apart! But I kept repeating the mantra and turning that pathetic thought over in my head, making it a weapon against my own rage.
By now, the initial cause of the anger was long forgotten. Emotional memory was short, and in the end, the anger was grounded only in the stupid words of a couple of worthless individuals. Was it worth facing punishment for killing them over this? Kill these worms? Stupid… and stupidity is not my way. Calm… breathe… you are a wizard… not a beast.
"You cannot achieve what you dream of if you submit to anger! Think, Arcturus!"
"You… don't… even… realize," I spat out the words in a quiet but monumental voice. An arrogant expression returned to its rightful place. "What thin ice… you've just walked on."
My voice trembled slightly, the muscles of my face contorting with rage, but I was using all my strength not to give the anger inside even a chance to take over my body.
Control hung by a thread, but I felt the rage, finding no outlet, begin to slowly and painfully subside, turning into a heavy lump in my chest. Which I would later release on the training dummies.
"Hey! You think we're letting you go? Think again!" Burke shouted, his fear replaced by hysterical malice. When they aimed their wands at me, I realized that even such a titanic effort and achievement in battling the curse was for nothing. A spark was ready to create a raging fire, but they were lucky.
"Oh dear," came a familiar lazy voice, right behind them. "We were wondering where our leader had disappeared to. Turns out the vultures here decided to test their immortality."
"Three against one isn't fair, Arcturus! What did they do to you! Pfft-ha," Cassius's cheerful voice followed Avery's words.
From the same corner I, and then these vultures, had come from, Avery and Cassius emerged. Marcus leaned against the wall, wand at the ready. Cassius stood straight, wand lowered, but his appraising look showed he wasn't as cheerful as he seemed. He swept his gaze over each of the three as they turned at the voices, assuming fighting stances. Only Adrian didn't take his eyes off me, shielding his comrades' backs.
"We were just…" Marvyn began.
"Oh shut up already, Burke," Avery sighed, not looking at him. "You were following him, like rats after cheese. It's obvious a mile away. The real question is — do you even realize you decided to attack the best duelist in the third year, and also the best among fourth and fifth? Didn't think Gryffindors were this stupid. Did you really think three of you could take him? Ha!"
"What idiots…" Cassius shook his head, ready for a fight. Say what you will, but Burke and Adrian were roughly at his level.
Burke paled, his hand frozen, still holding his wand. All their bravado deflated instantly in the face of the obvious imbalance of power and total loss of moral superiority. They muttered something unintelligible, and the most sensible among them, Adrian, whispered something to Marvyn.
"I'm not a coward to run!" Marvyn snapped at his friend.
"No one said you could leave," the grin on my face this time lacked that underlying rage. Now it was time to make them answer for their words. Earlier, I feared killing them if I succumbed to anger, but now I wouldn't lose control; if a fight started, I wouldn't have to dive headlong into it.
The void left by the receding rage was vast, but at least it contained no madness.
I simply drew my wand and nodded to my friends. That was enough for the three Gryffindors, huddled together, torn between two fronts, to start everything. I didn't want us to start the fight, to have the truth on our side when it reached the Head Boy or, worse, the teachers. And it would, for sure.