Nicholas Scratch

Prologue

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot, and member of the International Council of Wizards stood on the outside of an elaborate ritual circle, with intricate designs of protection and constraint spiraling in every direction.

Dumbledore chanted as the scented smoke from blood red candles dotted across the room slowly filled the headmasters office which had been cleared in preparation for the ritual.

Dumbledore's chantings slowly reached a frenzied crescendo and with a thunderclap, in the middle of the floor that had been left empty of runes was huge figure, with scaled and furred skin, blackened ivory horns that scraped the ceiling and two eyes that held as many facets as a gem and shone with a murder and blood thirst that would engulf nations. The figure flexed the veritable swords it had for talons and bared its dagger-like fangs as it stalked its chalk and magic prison.

Abruptly the figure was a foot shorter, then another foot. It continued shrink and compact itself until it abruptly shifted colors and in a blur of movement an entirely different figure stood in the empty space of the circle.

A slim man with a shock of white hair stood dressed to the nines in what looked like a custom black suit and red tie. His black leather shoes shown wetly in the candlelight. His pale, milk-like skin glistened. The ebony orbs of his glinted as he stared at the headmaster with undisguised hatred.

Dumbledore swallowed several times before managing to speak past his suddenly dry throat.

"Nicholas, a pleasure too see you."

The man bared his fang like teeth as they shifted into a row of perfectly straight, white squares that would have made any dentist or orthodontist cry with envy at there perfection.

"Cut the crap Albus. Why have you summoned me into this vile form?"

Dumbledore gave a gentle but smug and victorious smile.

"You owe me Nicholas. And I have decided it is high time that I collect."

The high, lilting laugh that the man gave reminded Dumbledore of the whistling sound of muggle bombs, and with the rapid fire staccato of machine gun, ending with a gasp of exhaled air that sounds like the last breath of a dying man.

"I don't owe you shit headmaster. In case you've forgotten, the whole reason you can wield that wand," The man waved his hand and a cabinet burst open, and a slim wand box opened as a thin wand made of elder wood rose into the air before the man continued speaking. "The whole reason you defeated Grindlewald and cemented your place amongst the legendary figures of the magical world, all because of me."

The room began to shake as the mans voice deepened into a tone that no human could ever hope to reach.

"And you now summon me, say that I owe YOU? Know little mageling. I OWN you."

"What about a true deal?"

The shaking of the room stopped.

In a studiously calm, and exceedingly normal tone of voice the man spoke.

"Explain."

Dumbledore sighed.

"You teach Defense Against the Dark arts at Hogwarts this year, look after the students, help Harry Potter in any way possible. and make sure that the Ministry loses its deadwood and I sign a true soul contract."

The man hissed with laughter as he stuck his hand out, burning with an electric blue fire.

"Shake on it."

As Dumbledore shook the proffered hand, the man began laughing. A laugh of war without end, of orphans and corpses, a laugh of unleashed barbarity and spilt blood.

And as the laughter of the man echoed throughout the halls of Hogwarts, the castle itself shuddered.

Authors Note

Hello all! First real attempt at Harry Potter. Ive wanted to do a version of a demon deal maker and a version of a new defense against the dark arts teacher for quite a while.

Two last things, First, honorable mention if you can guess what year this takes place in.

Second. As always R&R.