Hogwarts Mafia Round 3 - Serial Kill

Hogwarts :: Dungeons, Potion Lab :: Marc Jackson

Someone always had to clean up the mess. That was alright with Marc; at least he had something to do while everyone else was off in a panic. The others could discuss foul play versus a simple accident all they wanted but talking seemed a waste of time when there was work to be done.

He soaked the mop in neutralizing solution once again and started in on the purple mess, yanking his dragonhide gloves up to his elbows as he cleaned. His work distracted him to such an extent that he didn’t hear anyone come in until he backed into a student standing right behind him.

With everything going on Marc reasoned there was no shame in admitting he’d given a bit of a jump before calming down and speaking in an even tone. He had thought perhaps someone was willing to lend a hand but that didn’t seem to be the case; the student was just standing there staring at him.

“Do you want something?”

Hogwarts :: Dungeons, Corridors :: Serial Killer

‘Why on earth was I outside? I don’t remember going outside…’

The student walked down the corridors of the dungeons, holding a silver amulet in gloved hands at a slight distance, and tried to remember…anything. The rest of the trip to Hogsmeade. Everyone leaving for home, save the people who were staying over the holidays. The past few days it seemed the student was getting a fair amount of sleep, but waking up in strange places, like in the snow outside, was at best odd and at worst dangerous.

For one thing, it was freezing outside. The student’s hands were painfully cold even with gloves on. And then there was the silver amulet; what was that about? There was a vague memory of seeing it before…but for the moment that wasn’t the point.

The amulet was positively –filthy-. There was a vague recollection of blood, and winged skeletal beasts, but surely that was a dream, even if there –were- stains that looked suspiciously like dried blood. It was probably rust.

Shrugging off other worries for the moment, the student decided the first order of business was to get the amulet cleaned. There was an odd compulsion to handle the necklace, to put it on, but certainly not in its current state.

Wandering into the potions lab, the student observed someone already cleaning up. Surely he wouldn’t mind one more small task, then.

Hogwarts :: Dungeons, Potion Lab :: Marc Jackson, Serial Killer

Marc waited patiently for the student to respond to his query, deciding the individual looked a bit dazed and half frozen. After a moment, with a light shake of the head, the student responded, holding out a silver amulet.

“Clean it?”

Marc shrugged and took the amulet in one gloved hand, figuring that perhaps this person didn’t know how to properly clean silver tarnish. It was a simple enough matter and didn’t seem worth arguing about. He walked over to the sink and opened a few vials from the storage cupboard, mixing them into a solution that would leave the metal intact but thoroughly clean out any corrosive elements.

Not being much of a talker in the first place and seeing that this student wasn’t really paying attention in the second, he worked wordlessly. When he turned around, cleaned necklace in hand, he saw that apparently the student had warmed up, as the gloves were now resting on a nearby counter.

He handed back the amulet with another shrug and quietly mumbled “it was no problem,” answering the unspoken thanks.

~*~*~

The student watched, oddly interested, as the amulet was cleaned. The strange compulsion to touch the mysterious necklace was growing stronger with every passing second and impatience was taking over; the student could practically feel the chain in bare hands, and stripped off the damp gloves to hold the amulet all the sooner.

Finally, the boy turned around and offered up the clean amulet, and the student took it without hesitation.

Staggering, the student let one hand fly out to grip the edge of the counter, swaying a little, eyes falling closed as dizziness took over.

When the student’s eyes opened once more, it was Voldemort looking through them.

And wasn’t –this- an interesting sight. Voldemort considered the boy in front of him, cleaning away, oblivious to what had happened. Pulling out the student’s wand, he weighed his options. Perhaps this boy would make a good servant?

“Imperio!”

The boy’s eyes glazed over and he turned to face the student. Voldemort scowled internally, remembering how his supposed ‘followers’ had claimed to be under this very same curse when they believed him gone. It filled him with sudden bitter resentment, and he waved the student’s hand dismissively.

Let them see what really happened to those Voldemort put the imperious curse on.

“Go to the cupboard.”

The boy, Voldemort was pleased to see, walked over obediently, and he began instructing Marc on what he was supposed to pour into the nearby cauldron with a cold smile.

“Now drink it.”

Marc Jackson obeyed swiftly, picking up the entire cauldron and drinking the poisonous contents in one go. Voldemort watched impassively as the poison took effect, causing the boy to writhe in pain on the floor. Not quite as good as watching the effects of crucio, but it would do for the moment and this held its own satisfaction.

When the boy went still at last, Voldemort turned and left.

Someone else could clean up the corpse.