A/N: Right! That wraps it up for this story! I'm splitting this Power of the Moon saga into parts and this is the end of part 1. Next'll be 'Power of the Moon: Incubus'.

I might have a bit of a break from POTM and start another story. Maybe start a slash fic. Slash fanfics aren't really my cup of tea but, hey! I like a challenge! And, as a writer, you need to broaden your spectrum!

Power of the Moon

Chapter 31: Baron Takes Charge

It was a terrible time inside the castle. Friction broke out between the three schools and blame was pushed here and there on who was responsible for the murder of Rita Skeeter and the kidnapping. Hardly any details had been given out by the teachers or by the Daily Prophet. Only the names of the three champions had been given out in a two-inch long article and Harry hadn’t been mentioned at all.

No connection had been made to the champions’ kidnap and Rita Skeeter’s murder (which, of course, was headline news, as was all of Incubus’ attacks). It was simply said that she’d been murdered somewhere around Hogwarts (with no specific location) and that other students (though, no names were given) had been captured.

Harry had a strange feeling that Baron had something to do with the strange lack of details from the news (he’d managed to corner the photographer before he left). Harry had not told Ron or Hermione anything about seeing Rita Skeeter dead. He’d only told Snape, Ginny, Luna, Draco and the spirits during a tense meeting in Snape’s office.

Edward had scouted the area feverishly for Incubus’ hiding place for a whole day but to no avail. He came back hot and breathless that night. All he did after that was collapse on a squashy sofa in the Gryffindor Common Room and go to sleep at once.

In the three days after the kidnap, Dumbledore had found himself having to fight off a hailstorm of owls every morning. Mostly from distraught parents saying that they wanted their children to come home away from such a dangerous place. He’d even received a few Howlers who screamed insults at him for letting this happen,

“Dumbledore couldn’t have done anything.” Harry commented to no one in particular, “What’re they doing blaming him?”

“’Tis custom.” Baron said, heavily, over Hermione’s comment so Harry didn’t hear it but he didn’t ask for her to say it again, “What canst they do but point their sword to the supremacy?”

Harry, however, had other things to think about. The Hufflepuffs were furious with him. Not only did they still believe what Cedric told them about him entering out of gaining fame but he was the sole champion not to be captured which put him in the frame more than anything else. Inevitably, Cedric’s lies about Harry spread all around the school and to the foreign students. The worst rumour was a theory of Harry being the kidnapper and only kidnapped the students because they were in the way. Ron was growing colder and colder towards him, as were the other Gryffindors.

As for the Slytherins, they were having a field day. Catcalls and jeers followed him up and down the corridor, along with enchanted bottles of ink or quills that soaked or jabbed him until he was out of sight of him. This happened even without the presence of Slytherins. Harry thought that he must be the most hated person in the school. He felt that the only people who thought him innocent were Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Draco, Snape, Sirius and the spirits.

Visahari came out of his sleeve to speak to him more often since he sought privacy more often. She was a wise and patient companion whom Harry felt confident talking to without risk of being overheard. On the third day, Harry snarled to her, “Everyone mussst think that I kidnapped thossse people. Jussst becaussse I’m the only champion not to be captured. How isss that fair?”

She gazed up at him for a moment with her amber eyes and then, her body squeezed his wrist in an affectionate sort of way, “I know you are innocent and ssso doesss Baron and Dumbledore. Thossse foolsss only blame you becaussse there isss no one elssse for them to blame.”

“And, there’sss another thing.” Harry added, with vehemence, “Why hasssn’t anyone been told about Cedric turning to Incubusss?”

“I know.” The snake nodded, sagely, “But, I sssuppossse they do not want them to know. There isss enough bad feeling in the air already. I can almossst sssmell it.” Her tongue flicked out to demonstrate, “But, ssstill,” She squirmed a little, “thisss mussst be exactly what Incubusss wants. To make them feel that you are at fault and then, give out the truth himself to make them all feel assshamed.”

Just then, a burst of noise came from below. Harry, who’d been hiding in the upper landing, dodged out from behind a row of books and peered over the railings. Groups of black, powder blue and blood red jostled around below. It looked like a fight. Books, ink bottles and even chairs were flying everywhere and screams of insults and pain echoed around the place,

“Never trust a foreigner!”

“Go home!”

“You beasts!”

The majority of the shouting Harry could understand was coming from the Hogwarts students and it sounded much ruder. Madam Pince tried valiantly to stop the commotion but was Stunned by a Durmstrang student. Harry sighed, “Oh, no.”

“How long can thisss go on?” Visahari sighed, too. Baron, however, (who’d been hovering behind Harry until that moment) marched across the landing, made himself solid and began to march down the steps. Harry watched as, once halfway down, Baron raised his voice to a much louder shout that he thought possible from Baron and called,

“HEAR ME, BICKERING FOOLS!”

All noise ceased. Baron glared around at them all for a moment, holding them with his stare. One by one, everyone lowered their wands, chairs or books. Harry noticed that a small brown package was at his feet. Visahari hissed happily, “Baron will sssurely put all to right.”

“Friends, fellows, guests, lend me your ears.” Some of the foreign students looked a little bemused by Baron’s strange way of speaking. Harry wondered if they could understand him or not, “For thy rebellious nature satisfies not thee but an enemy.”

Everyone started to look around nervously, as though afraid this enemy would pop out of a wall, “Now, I will tell thee what thy masters are half afeared to.” Harry realised what he was about to do, “A blood-lusting villain grows strong from thy hate, as thou ever-weakens.”

“’Oo is this villain?” asked a Beauxbatons girl, who looked pale and scared,

“The murderous soul that did stab Rita Skeeter’s life from her body.”

“Incubus!” gasped a Hogwarts fifth year,

“Yea.” Baron nodded, “’Tis the fiend’s desire to cram the air of this bless’d castle with thy reckless abhorrence. Know now that some are wrong and some wronged. The wronged champion is blameless but ‘tis his desire to slander him. Within his wicked mind, ‘tis better to leave him to the maws and wolves of slander and rumour than to confine him as prisoner.”

A silence followed, in which Baron glared around at them all. Then, a particularly hard-faced Slytherin student pushed his way forward and glared back at him, “And, just who are you to start telling us what to believe? I mean, Potter’s record isn’t exactly clean, is it?”

“Men call me Baron.” Baron answered, looking the student right in the face. Harry thought this a little daring, since he was heavily built and looked as though he could easily break every bone in Baron’s frail body. Still, he turned away from him and addressed the room at large, “Call to remembrance, thou who can, the affair of Slytherin’s chamber and the monster within. Was he not wrongly accus’d and rightly innocent? When black danger threatens, Harry hath defend‘d. Is this wickedness?”

Then, he lowered himself, ignoring the uncomfortable squirms from some of the students. From the brown package, he drew a roll of parchment, “Who within thee knoweth Diggory as a friend or better enough to see his hand in script?” There was a small sound, somewhere between a squeak and a gasp, “Yea, noise?” A black, shiny head moved through the sea of students. Only when she pushed through the last two people did Harry see that it was one of Cho Chang‘s giggling girlfriends, no longer giggling. Trembling from reddish-blonde, curly head to shiny black toe, she said,

“I-I do, Baron. I we-went out with him for a bit b-before Cho. He wrote a lot of…letters to me…I‘m Marietta Edgecombe…”

She quailed under Baron’s hard gaze. After a moment, he sighed, “So fair a maiden that should hear so terrible a summary. I’ll have thee not read it but look upon this paper.” He stepped down the stairs, his white cloak trailing behind him. Marietta looked like she wished she’d stayed at the back of the room. When he was level with her, he held out the scroll, “Look ‘pon it but read not. Terrible things hath ne’er been on a page scratched that mortal man hath seen.”

Marietta took it as fearfully as though it were a poisonous spider and unrolled it a little, “Ist not the boy’s hand?” Baron inquired. Marietta nodded immediately,

“Yes, it is. Definitely” At this, Baron took it back from her and swept back up the stairs to his previous stand,

“I will proclaim this writing unto you with my reluctant tongue. Would I have but chosen, I would not be the one to read’t. To so taint thine ears with so piteous a declaration. Yet, still, thy masters refuse’t. Therefore, I must do’t.” As Baron unrolled it, a small ripple passed through the crowd as everyone leaned in. Even the Slytherin who’d interrupted him was looking on with interest. Visahari whispered,

“What’sss that?”

“No idea.”

After unrolling it all, Baron closed his eyes for a moment and added, “’Tis his hand, yet not his mind that writes. Mark that.” Then, he turned once more to the page,

‘The true champion of Hogwarts, once Cedric Diggory, son and heir of the vampire Lord Incubus-’

There was an intake of breath at these words and Harry stared,

‘-that shall be renamed anew when enemies are vanquished, to the unknown boy, son of the archer ranger that hunts us, and known commonly as Baron.

‘You know now that I have been serving my father for two months under pretence. Yet, you are too late. You could not stop this death and now, we have captives and I, the prize of the Eastern beauty, Cho. She is my bride and will be alongside me always. You cannot reach her.

‘Yet, when we are ready, we will return the others and fall upon this castle. We target you and your people within the walls. My father and I shall sup your blood from you and your champion friend.’

Harry noticed Hermione and Ron within the crowd and their eyes met his. They were frightened,

‘As my father requested, I’ve also sent you a gift. It is the cloak of the evil reporter that Onyx, my father and I murdered. You will see three holes, one each for us. Onyx stabbed her around the neck and my father in the chest. The one furthest from the fastening is mine.’

With that, Baron rolled up the scroll again and closed it. Everyone was white with shock and horror. Some of the girls were actually sobbing into their hands. Most of the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students, however, looked triumphant,

“So!” An audacious Beauxbatons boy spoke, “It eez ‘Ogwarts ‘oo eez to blame!”

“Have a care!” Baron replied, “Hast thou no ears? Didst I not say that he wrote not with his mind? Turn thy soul to grief, not hatred. There is a soul deceiv’d and tainted. Hate Incubus, if thou will.” Then, he lowered himself for a third time, reaching a hand into the brown parcel, “If thou hast tears, be sure to o’erflow them now.”

With that, his arm flew up and, with it, came a cloak so covering blood that its colour was indistinguishable. There were three rips in the fabric. A united horrified gasp came from the onlookers. The girls who were sobbing wailed in terror. Marietta looked about ready to faint,

“Look!” Baron gave the thing a little shake and held it so that a hole near where the chest would be when worn was visible. His voice became forceful, almost a shout, “Look where the brutal Cassius Incubus stabbed!” Then, he grabbed the neck and showed them a particularly large, rounded hole, “Look at what a rent the envious Onyx hath made!”

“Oh, put it away!” wailed Marietta, crying with fright while pressing a handkerchief to her. Indeed, Baron seemed taller than ever, towering above them, brandishing the bloodstained cloak before them. People were crying, girls and boys, but they seemed unable to look away. Visahari was most impressed,

“He doesss know how to hold a crowd!”

Ron and Hermione were struck dumb, white and their mouths hanging open. After a long pause, in which Baron glared intently around at them all, superbly ignoring all protests. Then, he held up a hand, which silenced everyone, “And, this.” He showed them the last rip, “This is the most unkindliest cut of all. Made by the usurpéd and stainéd boy thou didst once love.”

Marietta collapsed on the floor in a swoon, “Look to the lady.” Baron said, at once. A group of ashen-faced Hufflepuffs pulled her away, “Thou knowest now. Go forth and speak more of these ill things. ‘Twas the intention of Incubus to put it abroad when thou hast whil’d away seven days from the capture. By then, the hatreds would have root’d so deep within thy soles that to rip them up would cause such pain and grief unknown to thee. This satisfaction, I will not allow him to possess. Now, go from this place and spread word of these dread occurrences.”

Meekly, they filed through the doors of the library one by one, no one daring to disobey Baron. Ron and Hermione, however, hurried up a far staircase that led up the landing where Harry still stood. Baron reached his first and put a hand on his shoulder,

“Baron, have I ever told you that you are absolutely amazing?”

“Were it my will,” Baron sighed, “I would not have spoken. I had receivance of the gift this morrow.”

Ron and Hermione reached them. Hermione had tear tracks on her face and Ron’s freckles stood out against his pale skin, “Harry…” Hermione found her tongue first, “Harry…this is so awful…I never thought Cedric would…”

“I knew.” Harry said, a little apologetic, feeling he ought to come clean, “Sorry. I just…didn’t want you to worry.”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter!” Hermione said, impatiently. Then, Ron found his voice at last,

“Harry…I’m really, really sorry. Thought someone might be using this to do you in. I just…didn’t really want to believe it.” After a while of shuffling his large feet, he groaned, “I should’ve known he’d do something like this! Just the sort of thing he’d do!”

“Mayst thou be wiser,” Baron spoke without prompt, “when next thy friendship wavers.”

“Er…yeah…” Ron’s ears turned red.

The four of them went down sedately to the Great Hall together. The news was spreading fast. People were pointing at Baron and whispering frantically. Giving them nothing but princely disregard, Baron marched on in front. Hermione dropped her voice to whispered to Harry,

“Who is he, Harry? D’you know him?”

“Yeah.” Harry nodded, truthfully, “He fights the Dark Side. Don’t worry, we can trust him.” He added, seeing the look on Ron’s face, “He’s had a lot of experience.”

Down in the Great Hall, there was a good deal of noise. The story of Cedric’s betrayal was being shouted by various voices. The Hufflepuffs had never looked more forlorn as they entered. As Baron swept into the room, all fell silent. They were clearly expecting another speech from him. McGonagall swept from the staff table. Madame Maxime spotted him from the staff table,

“Bah!” She gasped, “I might ‘ave known! It’s zat boy, again!”

McGonagall swept towards Baron. They were both of equal height and she glared at him reproachfully, her mouth thin, “Baron! Explain this behaviour! Why have you told the students about Diggory?”

“Your pardon, madam.” Baron said, more politely, “Yet, my soul was moved toward the truth than the poisonous lies that spread this place.”

“What ‘poisonous lies’ are these?” Dumbledore asked, calmly. He too faced Baron beside McGonagall,

“Foul pestilence that didst threaten the name of my much wrong’d friend.” He clasped Harry’s shoulder, “Slander most foul ran abound. Truth art more favourable to’t, yea?”

“Indeed.” Dumbledore nodded, “However, you should not have gone so far as to show them Miss Skeeter’s cloak.”

“Should not, yea.” Baron nodded, “Yet, I was moved to’t. They, so firm and unmoving in their thoughts as stone, had to be made known of it.”

There was a silence. Then. Madame Maxime stood, “Dumbly-dore,” She said, imperiously, “I wish zat zis boy should ‘ave lodgings ‘ere. ‘E knows much of zis Incubus. I wish ‘im to stay until we are sure of no more attacks!”

Karkaroff didn’t look like he liked this idea at all but he said nothing. Baron bowed his head respectfully to Madame Maxime, “I thank thee for thy request, lady, but I will have no lodgings within these walls. The forest yonder shall suffice me better.”

“The Forest!” gasped McGonagall, “But, that’s forbidden, Baron! It’s dangerous!”

“Many a time that dangerous forest hath defended me.” Harry had to admire Baron’s nerve. Not many people had the courage to answer back to Professor McGonagall, “I will set up a tent within’t, of a place known only to I. I will spend my days within these walls, as thou wishest. I will choose the place anon. I take my leave of thee.”

With that, he inclined his head again and left the castle for the grounds.

A/N: So, at this, we say goodbye to Baron for the present.

Baron: Nay, only but for the present!

Okay, okay. Right, sayonara!