Welcome to the World

I Am An Arms Dealer With Weapons In The Form Of Words
And Don't Really Care Which Side Wins
As Long As The Room Keeps Singing
That's Just The Business I'm In, Yeah

--'This Aint A Scene, Its An Arms Race' By Fall Out Boy--

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Originally by Kyuubi08(First Years, This Way)

Adopted by Shimo Ino

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Quirrell lay in the Hospital wing unmoving as he had for the past few days. Only on occasion did Madam Pomfrey check on him, and that was to make sure that he was still breathing. See, he wasn't the most popular teacher, even among other teachers. Inside his core however, the complete opposite was happening.

Voldemort is an impatient being. He hates waiting, hates to be kept from what he wants. And because of that he is a man who uses a large amount of force to get what he wants. He's not one for finesse, but pure power.

Quirrell, the weak wizard that he is, wants to help his master, wants to serve him in any way, but doesn't want to die.

Although it seems that dying is the only way to truly serve his Dark Lord.

Quirrell it seems, has a dilemma.

The lights were turned down low in the Hufflepuff Common Room as Natalie drew a number of small runes around her 'stage'. The Puffs crowded round excitedly, wanting to see the new 'show' that the blond would put on.

The blond gathered her palms together, rubbing them until light began to glow from her skin. She smiled as the crowd gasped and cheered. Her pale hands began to shake as if something was trying to escape her palms, color dancing around the darkened room.

"There once was a tale, along long time ago, not so far away actually!" The room laughed, Harry included as he sat with the first year Hufflepuff's plus Hermione and Neville. Susan and Hannah had invited her after the Broom lesson, and Harry had asked Neville after remembering it when they had gotten to the Infirmary.

The blond continued slowly opening her hand, letting the lights take shape into small animals and forming the ground beneath them. For a split second Harry was sure that he was still in the Common room, then he could hear a forest around him, birds chirping, water gurgling and the works.

He realized in embarrassment that his eyes were closed, and opened them quickly with a gasp. He could see all around him a forest, but lightly in the background the outline of Natalie, the furniture and other students.

"There were many stories that I wanted to focus on, but since my lighting needed work, I chose this one," Her voice rang out, oddly louder and calmer than usual. "I've done many stories, stories of misery and woe," Suddenly the room could make out an image of Romeo and Juliet, both lying over each other, dead. "Stories of bravery and adventure," Now there was an image of a robed man fighting a giant Dragon for a golden fleece. "And stories of Labyrinths and bulls," An image of a man running towards an exit with a giant horned monster on his heels.

"But what I haven't done is tell stories of Great Battles and Victories." Suddenly, in his minds eye, Harry could see an image of a creature with a man's torso, and a scorpion's body. Ignoring the protests of "No Natalie, No!!" from Morgana who was laughing way too hard in the back, the room concentrated on the appearance of a desert background that flowed about the snarling creature. Harry flinched back when bits of sand flew into his face. Or at least he thought it was bits of sand. He couldn't be sure.

In front of the creature there was a walled city, one with fortifications so vast that it was impossible that he would try and siege it by himself. The city was beautiful, you could tell from so far away, it had high monuments and colored streets with huge fountains, despite being in the middle of a desert.

It was only a few moments until out of the sand crawled dead men that were being barely held up by the papery skin that was left after several hundred years of entombment and the crisp bandages that impaired their movement. Many held wickedly curved swords, others banished long spears and more held bows and arrows. Horses and camels had also risen, dead but standing strong; some being ridden, others pulling chariots. Among those, large objects of machinery had risen out of the ground, in fact, they were catapults that had begun to move into place without any help.

It was an army of the un-dead. An army of mummies.

The Scorpion man looked all around himself and smiled a horrible grin. He opened his mouth and spoke in a raspy voice, "Take no survivors."

And with a great cry, the newly risen army rushed to the city. . .

"Why Cornelius! I am glad you could made it!" Dumbledore cheerfully greeted as the pudgy man entered his office, Secretary following like a love struck puppy.

"Albus!" Cornelius Fudge exclaimed clasping the elder man's hand and taking a ready seat. "Good to see you, how is the school doing?"

"Well," The wizard replied but seemed to want to press on. "I need your help with something that has been brought to my attention lately." He paused. "Its one of my . . . foreign student."

The Minister looked confused. "Foreign student? Who could that be?" He looked pensive. "It isn't one of the Patil twins is it? Last time I talked with their uncle--"

"No Cornelius, not the Patil's," Dumbledore interpreted. "Morgana Bard. You see, it seems that--"

"No."

"She's been gathering–wait what?"

"No." The Headmaster was shell shocked and at a loss for words. "I may be one of the greatest Ministers that Britain has ever seen"–Dumbledore highly disbelieved that.–"But I am not, not going up against one of the more powerful magical families in the known world!"

He sat back on his chair, cheerful mood now gone. Albus couldn't believe the fast change of mood at just the girls name. "But, Cornelius, surely you cant be serious?"

The large man turned slightly red and his secretary, following his lead, began to glare at the elder man. Though it made her look extremely constipated. "I am dead serious Albus! I remember Morgana from when she was a little tyke," He smiled. "Such a cute child. I was the one that recommend and got her a place at Hogwarts!"

Dumbledore sat in his chair, seemingly struck. The Minister however wasn't done. "Her family were avid supporters of my predecessor, when they lived in Britain of corse. It was a sad day indeed when they moved, moved so suddenly," The pudgy man paused in reminisces. The aged wizard, for his part, used Legilimency to enter the Ministers mind.

He got an image of Cornelius clutching a newspaper and holding his head in his hands, muttering, "Dear Merlin no. . ." Honing in on the newspaper only got him a blurred picture of a city street with muggle please-men covering up two bodies. The large caption read, Michael and Eve Bard, Dead in Accident : Leaves Fight Over Inheritance

"Very sudden actually, like they were trying to get away from something . . ." He shook his head and Dumbledore out of it. "I apologize Albus, but I will not get into your political games this time. Good day."

And with that, the Minister departed Albus Dumbledore's office leaving the elder man with a wealth of information, and him none the wiser.

It was almost the end of October, and many of the Hufflepuff students were putting up black and orange decorations in celebration. The previously black and yellow room was now black and orange, and many of the students were dressed up.

"Sooo . . . you're a Potion Supplier?"

Morgana blinked and looked up over her History essay. Harry was reading through that damn book again and looking at the moving pictures. He traced a diagram of a self-chopping knife and stirring ladle. "Yes, my family's been in the business for over a century."

"What does the job entail?"

"And why do you want to know?" She asked.

"Well, I was thinking--" With a dramatic gasp she interrupted him.

"You do that?"

He glared at her and she grinned insanely. "I was thinking that maybe I could do that too."

She simple looked at him for a moment. "Is that because I'm already in it, or because you actually want to do it?"

He flushed and looked away. "It shouldn't matter cause I'm going to need a job any--"

"Hold up, it does matter!"

"Does not!"

"Harry," She sighed and placed the essay and pen on the small coffee table that sat in front of the couch. "Come here,"

He dutifully shuffled over right next to her without looking up. Morgana sighed. "Are you sulking?"

"No,"

"I haven't even scolded you yet!"

"So?"

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Harry, look at me okay?" The pouting boy looked up. "Okay you know what? Don't look at me, I feel the need to hug you and tell you to be whatever you want to be."

He stared at her even harder, pouting his lips until his whole face started to turn red. "No, NO! Stop staring at me like that!!"

"You have been denied!" Harry shot back as he widened his eyes and leaned closer to the brunette.

"Ack! No, seriously, stop. We need to have the talk,"

"You are such a pervert Morgana." Natalie commented blandly as she passed by the pair. A few students snickered and Morgana flushed. "It didn't sound like that in my head!"

"Uh hunn, sure it didn't,"

"Bitch!!" She called off the couch.

"That's what he said!"

Morgana could only growled then straightened herself back up. "Now then,"

"No now then!" Harry declared firmly. "What if it's what I want? What I really, really want to do?"

The brunette sighed and rubbed her head. She spared the boy a glance, and saw that he was "Well, if that is what you want, then there's nothing that I can do about it," Harry grinned triumphantly, then faded when she asked, "But do you actually know what you have to do for the job?"

"Have to find what exactly a Potion Supplier does, have to find out–woah!" Harry was hard at work, researching the five W's and one H of a Potion supplier, and had found almost nothing. The whole library was almost all academia based, nothing outside the normal realm of study. The bespeckled boy wasn't going to give up however, as Morgana though that she had found a clever way to get him off of that job.

Exactly a month from now he would prove to her how determined he was to work as a potion supplier with an essay and maybe a power-point. It was genius! It couldn't fail–except that he couldn't find a single. Damn. Thing. About. IT!

It was when he was stalking down the Potion section for the fifth time, checking titles again that he had bumped into a small girl his age pulling out a high level ingredient book.

She 'eeped!' but didn't look up, merely mumbling a small sorry and tried to make a run for it. Harry blinked and she was almost out of reach. "Hey wait!"

He gently touched her shoulder and she almost immediately turned onto him, pivoting onto her heel and thrusting an open, brightly glowing palm into his shoulder. The boy was sent backwards into one of the bookshelves, knocking the books onto the floor. He heard Madam Prince hurrying over to where they were with a screech, but Harry couldn't think straight, could barely breath–what the hell did she do to him??–however he had enough sense to cast a small illusion spell over her.

After all, it wasn't every day when a fellow student grew small white feathered wings, her hair began to lengthen and blond and her dark skin rippled before his eyes into a glowing pale. She cast him a fleeting glance, one of fear and uncertainly before running off.

Harry grimly smiled before he blacked out completely.

"Where is he?"

Silence met her answer.

"Let me ask that again. Where. The. Fuck. Is. He?"

"My dear,"

"Don't go there," Morgana snarled. She was close, so close to her breaking point, close to whipping out the big guns, stuff that she was saving for her Mastery. Breath, she reminded herself. "Don't try to calm me because it wont work. I am this close Dumbledore, this close," She held out two finger to measure out how small her patience was at this point. Not so good. "To leaving, and if I have to, I will take Harry with me."

Professor Sprout stood behind her, mouth in a firm line. She may not be able to speak any of his secrets, but by Merlin, she would not stay still again. Darryl was also there, standing in the background. There was nothing on his face, just a blank space of skin.

"You have no power over him here." Dumbledore spoke in an indignant voice. He was master of this school, he was tired of her talking down to him. "You barely have any power over your own being."

Morgana let out a bark of laugh. "Oh the power you have! You cant even expel me! Those laws that you've made have cost you way too much, I'm surprised that it isn't gone and done away with already. Oh wait," She gasped dramatically. "It is! Smart choice for the new generation."

"The only way that I'll be gone is by my own power or by graduation. And Harry can leave anytime he wants thanks to your bad legislation. His relatives don't care about him, the want him gone! They'll throw him out, and what will you do then?" The brunette shivered a bit as one of the most powerful men on the planet stared her down.

His eyes glinted oddly. "Let us not forget that you cannot leave yet, lest your magic dry up completely," He ignored her glare. "And either way your, husband, cant help you here." He didn't let on the fact that Fudge has just visited, that she still had him as a avid supporter. It would be risky, even if she did already know.

The aged wizard knew he hit a nerve as she flushed with anger. "Fuck you sir. Fuck you."

Both of them continued to fight and argue, never giving any ground and never noticing a pair of small animals, a tiny Pegasus that could fit into someone's hand and a black serpent making their way past the hallway, and towards the locked and warded infirmary.

TBC

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