Chapter 2.

Chapter 2

The Nightmare Man

Summary: In the depths of the Ministry, there is a cell for the world's most dangerous man… and he wants out.

Pairing/s: None.

Warnings: Time travel, OOC-characters, Light!bashing, Twisted!Harry, Evil!Harry, violence, mention of gore. Yeah, stuff like that.

Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any money writing this.

-o-

Edited 2020

-o-

Chapter Two

It took the Nightmare Lord a minute to actually move from the stone chair. It was a wobbly journey at first. The arms didn't want to support him, and the legs nearly folded beneath his weight. He hadn't stood for so many years. Joints popped and burned as he began to move around. Numbness took over, pins and needles assaulting his fingers and legs. He shook and stretched the fingers and wriggled the toes.

Finally he got to stretch the whole body. It shuddered with cracks of unused bones and joints. Long forgotten muscles pulled and hurt in a good way and finally he stood still, upright. One last crack of his neck and then he said:

"That felt good."

Then he bent to scratch at his leg.

"Oh, that's even better…"

The man then flexed his fingers, caressed his face and chest, and frowned upon feeling the threadbare robe. He normally wasn't one for fashion, never had been, but fashion had nothing to do with him not wanting to wear rags. He stretched the robe out as much as he could to have a look, and he was not impressed.

"I do not like these clothes," he informed the possessed guard. "Well, no matter. I'll just go home and change later. Now, let me have a look at you."

"Who… what… are you?"

"Oh my. You can still speak? Impressive. Who I am? I'm the Nightmare Lord, you know that. A rather silly title, but I've gotten attached to it over the years."

"Your name…" Blood began to drip from the guard's mouth.

"Oh, no, don't fight my control that hard, my dear. I can't have you dying on me right now." He tightened the control and stopped the bleeding the guard had caused while fighting for control. "But I will answer you. I have no real name, not anymore. But I can't be called Nightmare Lord all the time, not anymore. My name when it mattered… no, I can't use that. So how about… yes, I'm Harrison!"

That would be good enough. Harrison grinned. He liked to smile. Most people became terrified when he smiled, and that just made him smile even wider.

"Up we go," he said happily. "Take me to the Ministry, dear. From all that I've heard over the years it must be directly above us."

The guard wordlessly led the way to the elevator and stepped inside. Harrison followed and hummed as the elevator began to move upwards. It had been so long he had seen anything but the dark and the room, his prison for the last few centuries.

He was ready to let the world know who he was, and why people once had feared him.

"Get ready for a show," he whispered, "because ready or not, here I come."

-o-

It was getting late in the afternoon, but there was still a fair amount of witches and wizards roaming the halls of the Ministry. Most of them were finishing up for the day. A few had just arrived for their night-shifts, getting ready at their desk. Some were looking forward to go home and see their families. There were discussions of having drinks with friends, and a few hurried as they were late for meetings outside of work. So everyone were busy in their own way.

However, all that changed when an explosion occurred, big enough to make the corridors and rooms shudder.

People fell to the floor or caught themselves against the walls. Aurors had their wands out and others ran for the exits wherever they could find them. Many made their way to the atrium where they usually took the Floo out of there.

That was a mistake. Not that they knew. As people filled up the atrium, panicking, they heard a roar of fire. A sick-looking, green fire came into the atrium like a tidal wave, and washed over dozens of people standing too close to run away. People began to scream, outside and inside the fire. Burning people ran towards those who stood still in terror. The fire was moving with purpose, seeking out people, and once they realized that they made a run for their lives.

Harrison came out of the fire, unhurt. The screaming made him smile. When he inhaled, he smelt burning flesh. Some had already fallen, still burning or smoking. A few were twitching. The guard followed him listlessly, blood dripping from his lips and nose. His skin was ashen and clammy.

"Do you hear the screams?" Harrison asked the guard. "Such sweet music to my ears. No wonder I almost went crazy in that room; there were no sounds like this. You do get tired of your own voice eventually, you know. Nothing to do, no one to maim and kill. I missed it."

Then he laughed abruptly.

"Oh, what am I saying? Maiming? That gets boring, fast. Are you listening to me? Come here."

He beckoned the guard over and took a good look at the man's blank face.

"Hmm, you do have a nice face. I like looking at nice things. That's it, I'll keep you." Harrison glanced over him once more. "At least your body; not sure how much of your mind I can salvage at this point. Terribly sorry about that, I was just a tad desperate to get out of there. Don't worry, I can be creative. I'm sure I can make something out of you in the end."

He whirled around. The fire was eating away at people's writhing bodies and had now spread to the walls and the tapestries hanging there. He was burning history. Not that he cared much for that; history had always been written by the victors and seldom included the entire story.

"Hmm, this is not very creative," he said. "Chaos, yes, and don't get me wrong; I do enjoy my chaos. Just listen to that screaming; marvellous. But creative? Not really. But I… yes, I know just the one I can be creative with!"

Harrison turned back to the guard.

"Still alive in there?" he asked. "Yes, I see it, that spark right there in your eyes. Remarkable strength you have. Now tell me, where is Cornelius' office? Because the Minister of Magic must have an office. Show me the way, child. That's it, go on; show me."

The guard's body staggered forward and then began to lead the way. Harrison followed and if he accidentally happened to trample on someone's still twitching body… well, that's to be expected of him. Honestly. He wasn't a very good person.

-o-

Cornelius Fudge was completing some paperwork in his office when he felt the first, rumbling explosion run through the Ministry. Paperwork immediately abandoned, he moved to the door and out in the hall with his wand out. Was it an attack? Worry flared in his chest. Was it Voldemort himself, Merlin forbid? It couldn't be. The Dark Lord had never foolish invaded the Ministry before. Not even Voldemort could be so mad to attack a place with so many Aurors in it.

Several of these Aurors were coming up to him. His Floo had been disconnected earlier that day when he met with the Order, so now they began to usher him to another Floo so he could escape the Ministry.

"What about the people still here?" he asked. "Have there been any deaths?"

"Some, in the atrium," one Auror replied. "We're trying to get as many as possibly out of the Ministry, but the atrium can't be accessed for now."

"Any signs of the attacker?"

A man stepped around the corner and entered the hall they were in. He stopped, as did the Aurors and Fudge. Fudge recognized the robes; it was one of the guards from the pit. Had they felt the explosion even down there? Had he come up with news, or wanting to know what was going on?

"You!" Fudge called out. "Get out of here now, for Merlin's sake!"

The man looked up. The Aurors drew their wands and trained them on the man.

Blood was running down the man's mouth, nose and eyes. The irises of the eyes were gone, leaving a milky white behind. He didn't look alive. When he started walking towards them, Fudge knew he wasn't. The feet dragged behind him for every step, and he was more stumbling than actually walking.

A second man rounded the corner and walked towards them. Fudge's blood froze in his veins. For a moment, it felt like his heart stopped and ice gathered in his stomach. The Nightmare Lord grinned at the sight of him.

"You found Cornelius! Good dog."

The Nightmare Lord petted the guard's hair, and the guard's eyes strayed up to the ceiling, staying there. The Nightmare Lord pushed him gently aside, and continued:

"Hello, Cornelius."

"Minister, this way!"

Half of the Aurors dragged Fudge with them while the rest rushed to fight the man. Fudge tried to shout, wanting to warn them that this man, the Nightmare Lord was no man they could ever dream of defeating. But not a sound passed his dry lips, and cold sweat now covered his body.

He was afraid. Of course he was. He had never faced Voldemort, but knew of his crimes and he was nothing compared to this thing. Fudge had only ever read horror stories from long time ago of what this man had done, and now he was free to show it. Why he was feared, how he had obtained that fear from people. If all the stories were true, this man was a true nightmare.

They hadn't even made it to the end of the corridor when the Aurors that stayed behind were killed. All of them, in a single swipe. There wasn't even a sign of how it had been done, but in a matter of moment bodies lay strewn around, blood splattering up the walls.

The Nightmare Lord began to walk towards them, stepping between the body parts and right into the blood that was seeping out of the dead men and women. The guard stumbled on behind him. Fudge thought the guard was no better than an Inferius now. When had he been killed? How?

The Aurors were cut down one by one even as they shot spells at him, trying to get the minister to safety. They ran down several halls before the last Auror fell. Fudge turned around at last, wand held tightly in one hand. He was still far away from any safe place, or even a Floo to get away with and there was no way he could win a fight against the Nightmare Lord.

Naked feet against the cold floor made almost no sound and the Nightmare Lord walked up to him. Fudge couldn't even move, much less point the wand at him. He felt as if he stood up against a hurricane. He was utterly powerless.

"Why?" he managed to stammer out at last. "Why are you doing this?"

"Cornelius, you need to be more specific. I have done many things just today."

"All of it," Fudge got out.

"Oh, all of it. I can answer that. I was captured and held prisoner for centuries. You don't think I'd get my revenge one day? I did warn you. I guess I should have told you to be ready as well, and be ready really fast."

"The guard… when… what did you…?"

"Stammering does suit you," the Nightmare Lord. "You look good, being afraid. What I did with the guard first began while I was having a lovely chat with you and those other people. He didn't have his shields in place. It was easy slipping inside and planting a seed."

"Why him? There were others… stronger…" Fudge had a hard time just talking.

"Yes, well, there was and their minds weren't that well protected either but they were of no use to me. They couldn't get me out of there. The guard could. He could take me up here, and beyond, all the way to my beloved freedom."

How long had he been planning his escape?

"Oh, silly boy," the Nightmare Lord said. "Since I was captured, of course."

He came closer, taking Fudge's wand out of his slackened grip. The wand vanished up the Nightmare Lord's sleeve, and he tapped his lips.

"Now, you've read up on me. What I've done to people and their homes and so forth… but how about a first-hand demonstration? It would be rude not to do it, really."

"Wand… your wand…"

"Oh, yes, I don't have my wand," the Nightmare Lord said. "Not that I need it."

He didn't need one?

"I find wands restricting," he confessed. "It's easier to just… let the magic out."

He raised a single finger. Magic tore through the air and hit Fudge. His screaming echoed around the corridor but in the end it drowned out with the others coursing throughout the Ministry.

-o-

Some time later Harrison rose up. His threadbare robe was splattered with blood, and he absently wiped his hands clean on the dirty fabric.

"Grab him," he told the listless guard.

Vacant eyes snapped up to him. Behind that milky residue, there was still a little bit of life. Harrison smiled. The guard was not an Inferius, nor would he become one either. A small amount of Harrison's own magic mingling with the guard's own kept him on his feet for now. It was crude work but Harrison would have time to brush up on it later. The guard would keep most of his mind, but be loyal to Harrison.

The guard moved before Cornelius Fudge's body, but hesitated. Fudge was still breathing, faintly, most bones in his body broken and cuts all over him.

"Just grab the legs and drag him, you don't need to be delicate with him."

Harrison started down the corridor and the guard dragged Fudge. The screams had quieted down, and as they moved barely a sound was heard. Perhaps most of the people had managed to flee by now, unless they were dead. Harrison was sure reinforcements were coming at this very moment, but he wasn't planning on staying for much longer.

He just wanted to leave the reinforcement a parting gift.

"Be a bit faster, you," he told the guard. "We need to leave soon."

Fudge was moaning faintly as the dragging tugged at his broken arms and legs. But he wouldn't die. Harrison had made sure of that. It was boring just killing a person, and he had done his fair share of that over the years preceding his imprisonment. In the end it turned rather dull. Efficient, yes, but dull. There was only so much enjoyment one could get out of straight-up killing people and for example, make an Inferi army out of them.

Harrison had to admit it worked a bit better when people got to see their loved ones turning into animated corpses. Yes, he might have killed them without doing anything else, but it was entertaining to see them start walking again and watch the reactions people around them have.

As he came back to the atrium he stopped and had a look around. He wanted to have fun, he had been bored for so many years but fun had to wait just a bit. Now it was time for business and then he would go home for a shower and new clothes. Just experience some familiarity before he hunted down this Voldemort Fudge had mentioned and made himself known to the man.

"You can put him down now," Harrison told the guard. "I better hurry up too if I want to salvage anything out of you. Can't afford to dawdle much longer, you're looking a bit… well, more dead than alive at this point."

Harrison levitated Fudge up in the air with wandless magic. It was true what he had told Cornelius earlier, that he hadn't used a wand for a very long time. Certainly not his own. It wasn't hate, or that he couldn't use one; he was just fortunate to be capable of using magic without his wand. His magic had been wild for a long time, and now without the chains it was thriving. His whole body was happy just moving around and simply being free.

The fires were drained by Harrison in the end and he looked around. The walls were marked and blackened, the floor had cracked due to the heat, and the air had the sharp smell of death and burnt flesh. He motioned for the guard to come closer, and began pulling him out of the atrium.

"Time to get out," he clarified.

He wouldn't have minded seeing people react to what he had done to this place, with the charred remains of humans on the ground and Fudge's body… but he had no intention of being captured again. So instead Harrison followed the stumbling guard out to his freedom.

To be continued…