Tyrant Rising

Chapter 2: That's What Hive Was Going to Say (Part 3)

A chill raced up many spines as the One grew concerned as many. The one who was one among all bore similarities to the many prey who were only one among one with none as One. Prey were not eternal like the One. Could the one who was one among all someday become none forever, lost to the One instead of simply divided? The chill was replaced with a thrill that sang inside many hearts, the One delighting as all. The prey could come together as two and the two could become many beyond the two. If the kindred and the one who was one among all could become two among the One then the Hive would grow as the two became many!

The Hive worked, the old was still to be done even as the new was begun, the many could grow as One even as the one grew as one. Some among the ones who were one among one had value that could be spread to many or all who were One. More so than any others in the Hive's experience. Perhaps the Hive would grow many among new ones who would join the many as One. The many who the some that had been discovered were among could begin to be moved with less caution. Prey were always less suspicious when they saw what they thought to be all among the some that they knew.

However, the ones watching the ones who were one among one yet served the One would need to exert even greater caution. Now that the prey knew there were some, at least a few would begin to wonder if there were any beyond the some they knew. The suspicion of prey was another tool for the Hive, but it was too early for it to be anything but a hindrance to the many who were One.

For now, the Hive would watch and wait and work and make. All would come in time. All would be One and the Hive would feast.

Soon.

Same Time,

Lambstead Town Square,

Lancashire

Watching Dumbledore cry was possibly the most uncomfortable thing Amelia had ever experienced. It wasn't that the elderly wizard was a particularly ugly crier. He didn't pull in great heaving gasps of air and sob, nor did snot stream from his crooked nose. He merely closed his piercing blue eyes as his shoulders shook softly and tears streamed down into his silver beard.

It wasn't his appearance that made it so uncomfortable, she decided distantly, it was the expression of such an ordinary human emotion. At times, it seemed that Dumbledore possessed some sort of otherworldly calm and fortitude, as if he was immune to the sadness and pain of normal people. As infuriating as it could be at times, the impression was comforting, and having it so shattered was equally discomforting.

Fortunately, he regained his composure quickly and stood once more. Moving forward, he joined Abbot in carefully examining the unconscious body. Harry's body. Harry Potter.

Harry. Fucking. Potter.

She should've felt more with regard to the revelation that the supposed saviour of the Wizarding World, the Boy-Who-Lived, was not, in fact, dead, and had been found at long last. All she could muster was a numb sort of disbelief.

The monster was alive. It was alive and it was here. After all these years she had finally allowed herself to start hoping it might truly be gone for good. She should've known better. She had looked into the creature's burning emerald eyes 23 years ago and seen her death. It hadn't come then, and it hadn't come today, but it would. There hadn't been a Seer in the Bones family in over two-hundred-years, and they had never been of the normal variety, but she had Seen her fate.

The Bones Seers had a particular gift, one that had given rise to their name. When a Bones gave a prophecy, it was always one of death. Even seeing a Grim was better than having a Bones Prophecy about you, at least with the Grim you didn't know exactly how your gruesome end would come.