The Last Enemy

by Belfast Docks

A tragedy destroyed their family, and when their Founders presented them with a challenge, they were determined to destroy the one entity they loathed above all else. But they never dreamed that Death would be so dangerous an opponent. A story about the Peverell Brothers, the Founders, and the Deathly Hallows. Rated M for mature themes. Dark!Fic

2. Dealing with Death

Chapter Two: Dealing with Death

Ignotus could feel himself slowly waking, and he buried himself deeper within the thick, warm blankets, intent on trying to doze a bit longer. For some reason, he didn't particularly want to wake up. His brow furrowed and his brain tried to work out the reason. And then, without warning, the rush of memories from the day before flooded his mind so fast that they were acutely painful – his father was dead, and his brothers had grown apart from Ignotus, bonded together through the experience of war, and they had changed drastically since the last time he had seen them. For a brief second, he remembered dead, angry look in Antioch's eyes and the dull expression on Cadmus' face.

Ignotus jerked awake and groaned. It was no good trying to sleep any longer, now. The wave of sadness over his father's death was terrible, and he would have started to cry at that moment, except that his stomach rumbled, bringing with it another memory from the night before. He had skipped dinner in remembrance of his father, and feigned sleep when his dormitory mates had come up to go to bed. Ross had called his name softly, but Ignotus had never answered, and his best mate had given up. Despite that, Ignotus still overheard the whispered conversation Ross had had with Rowe and Ansen, as the three discussed the fact that they needed to treat Ignotus with caution during the next few days, given the turn of events. He assumed Antioch and Cadmus had gone to dinner, and now the entire school knew of the Peverell family's tragedy. Angrily, Ignotus had gripped the blankets so tightly that his knuckles turned white, but after a while, his friends went to sleep, and his fury faded into a hollow, terrible sort of feeling.

He would have to get something to eat this morning, but Ignotus didn't want to go into the Great Hall just yet. He wondered if he could Summon breakfast to his bed, or coerce a house-elf into helping him. And while he was at it, he needed to take a bath, too. He had been playing Shuntbumps the entire previous week during his free time, which had resulted in several falls and good-natured mud fights. He was positively filthy. He would need to ask the elves to clean his bedclothes, too.

The bath was something he didn't particularly want, but Ignotus forced himself to get out of bed and cautiously peeked through his curtains. The dormitory was empty. Sunlight was streaming in through the tall windows, signaling that the rain had passed on, and he was fairly certain that his mates were outside enjoying a perfect autumn day. Sighing with relief, Ignotus slipped across the room and into the bathroom.

He made his way to the stone tub and turned several copper taps set into the wall beside it, which began to spout thick streams of water into the basin. Indoor baths had been Mistress Helga's idea, according to some of the house-elves. Rumor had it that she had been absolutely appalled when Master Godric suggested the students jump in the lake whenever they got too dirty, and she had devised special stone rooms for each dormitory with water taps and deep tubs – a true novelty, and a bit odd for the students who only knew of baths in the sense of filling a wooden tub with well or river water once a week. Apparently she had gotten the idea from Roman wizards, several centuries earlier.

As the stone hollow filled with hot water, Ignotus slowly stripped his clothing off until he was naked. Despite the tapestries hung about the dormitory to keep the cold out, it was still chilly, and with chattering teeth he climbed into the tub and sank down to his chin, relaxing immediately. The heat of the water quickly seeped into his skin, until he felt perfectly warm and his eyes drifted shut. He could almost forget tragedy here, stretched out in the hot water. He could almost forget everything, really…

"You'll go to sleep and the water will get cold," a soft, slightly sardonic voice said, interrupting his doze. "Then you'll freeze to death."

Ignotus jerked so sharply that he sent water splashing across the stone floor. Instinctively he pressed his legs together as he glanced behind him and stared in shock at Callisto, who was standing in the doorway of the bathroom with a small smile. She was wearing a gown of deep wine red, with a long black cloak over her shoulders.

"W-what are you…? What…? This is the boy's dormitory!" he finally spluttered.

Callisto blushed and kept her eyes diverted. "Ross said you were still asleep, so I brought your breakfast up. You didn't eat dinner and I thought you might be hungry. I didn't realize you were in the bath until I stepped in. I'll wait outside, shall I?" With that, she inclined her head, turned quickly, and stepped back into the dormitory, closing the heavy wooden door behind her.

Flustered and suddenly incredibly hot despite the water, Ignotus dunked beneath the surface and emerged completely soaked, with rivulets running down his face from his now plastered, dripping hair. Pushing it off his forehead, and making it stick up in all directions; he looked back at the door, embarrassed. Callisto Stewart had walked in on his bath. He was naked, and she hadn't seemed to care. He wondered for a wild second what it would be like to soak in a stone bath of hot water with her. The thought of Callisto naked and pressed to his body made his cock react instantly, and Ignotus gritted his teeth and clenched his hands together. She was an excellent distraction from everything else – that was certain. Even his father seemed to vanish from his thoughts as he curled his hand around his erection and imagined Callisto nude, relaxing in the bath with him.

After a few minutes, he finally managed to stagger to his feet, now limp but not exactly sated. Rising out of the water invited the cold to tingle his skin, and he grabbed a thick cloth from the rack beside the tub and began to dry off. He then preformed a quick cleaning spell on his clothes and hurriedly dressed.

When Ignotus stepped into the dormitory again, flushed and embarrassed, he found Callisto sitting on the edge of his bed, reading a Charms book. On his desk was a tray of porridge and milk, beneath a Warming Charm. He suddenly remembered just how starved he was. He sat down and immediately began to eat, deliberately not looking in her direction. But after a couple of bites, a sudden, soft heat made him look up – his very head was growing warm.

"You'll catch cold if you leave your hair wet," she said gently.

She was using her wand to dry the thick black locks.

"Thank you," he whispered. He didn't trust his voice, and it was hard not to be head over heels for a girl who brought your breakfast up, didn't mind seeing you naked in the bath, and dried your hair while you ate.

"I didn't mean to interrupt your bath," she said guiltily. "I'm really sorry, Ignotus. I didn't know you were in there until I looked in."

"It's fine. I didn't mean to get upset. You just surprised me." He swallowed a spoon of porridge, though it seemed to have a difficult time going down his throat. When he finally felt he could open his mouth again, he muttered, "What are the others saying?"

Callisto was silent for a moment – she had finished drying his hair, and she slowly sat back down on his bed. Her eyes lifted to meet his, and she bravely said, "The House of Godric feels as you do, because you are one of us. We grieve with you, Ignotus. Just as the Houses of Salazar and Rowena grieve with Antioch and Cadmus. Helga's students grieve with all, because that is their nature."

Ignotus almost bent his spoon as a sudden onrush of anger filled him. "I don't want pity! I just want… I don't know! I don't want everyone staring at me, knowing my father wasn't strong enough to –"

"Don't ever say that. Of course your father was strong!"

He stopped and stared at her. He had temporarily forgotten that she had no parents, and he wondered with a fresh pang of guilt at, how in a time span of six years, he had never asked her what had happened to them. No one ever had, to his knowledge.

"I'm sorry," he stammered. "I didn't mean it quite that way. I just meant –"

"I know what you meant. You meant that you want to the pain to end. That you want to feel like Ignotus again, and not as though a monster was eating at you from the inside out."

Ignotus stared at her.

Callisto smiled sadly. As if she read his mind, she said softly, "I was five summers when my parents died."

"I'm sorry."

He looked back at his breakfast. He was unsure what to say, but Callisto, at least, seemed to understand how he felt. For a moment, he pushed the mushy porridge about in the pewter bowl.

She went on, "Just because you lose someone doesn't mean you will forever feel as though the pain is constantly eating you from the inside out. After a few months, perhaps a year or two, the pain fades and becomes a bit dull, and then after another year, you find that you are living again, and you wonder how you ever did it."

In a small voice, Ignotus asked, "When your parents died, who took you in? You were so young – you didn't have housemates to help you, then."

She paused, and then said, "My uncle took me in. He even sought revenge on the dark wizards who killed my parents so I would not grow up with thirsting for their blood. He is a very brave man. The bravest in the world, I believe." She squeezed his shoulder, but before Ignotus could ask further questions, Callisto had left the room.

For a long while, Ignotus sat at his desk, staring into the bowl of porridge, until at last it grew so cold he could not force himself to eat any more. Callisto's words raced about in his head, and he wondered when he would stop feeling the raw pain of his father's death. He could not see so far into the future, and though Callisto had trodden this path before, taking her advice at face value was difficult. Abruptly, Ignotus stood up and fastened his cloak around his shoulders. The dormitory was suddenly claustrophobic, and he had a maddening desire to escape into the bitterly cold outdoors.

He headed downstairs and entered the common room, but a quick glance about made him wish that he could become invisible. Several of his mates were gathered around the fire, playing chess or reading. Silently, Ignotus cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, before exiting through the portrait hole. No one saw him, though he did hear Perseus comment that he saw a blimp of movement against the wall and that he thought the portrait had opened. Before a gaggle of curious, hot-headed Gryffindor students could inspect the area to determine if a member of another house had invaded their common room, Ignotus broke into a run down the corridor, taking a shortcut through a tapestry of a forest full of stags and down a narrow, spiraling staircase to the fifth floor. He didn't stop running until he reached the marble staircase in the main hall, and he was grateful to find that the entrance hall was empty. He removed the charm he had placed on his body and quickly headed outside into the cold wind.

Only, the wind was worse than just cold – it cut through Ignotus's thick woolen cloak like icy needles and stung at his face. Rather than keep his cloak bundled tightly about him, Ignotus started to run again, down the sweeping lawn towards the lake, letting the energy warm his body. He ducked behind a tall, stoned wall that extended along part of the path, and only when he found a secluded alcove did he sit down on the stone bench within. Here, the wind did not cut through so badly. He was sheltered by the high arch of stones and a statute of a Greek witch, who was dressed in a long robe that left one shoulder and both arms bare. He sighed and leaned against the cold masonry, catching his breath with tightly closed eyes. Staying here for a few hours seemed quite plausible...

"Unless you catch your death of cold," a voice drawled lightly, as if the owner had read his mind.

Ignotus sat up abruptly, his eyes snapping open. To his surprise, Godric Gryffindor stood before him, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. He seemed completely unconcerned by the wind and cold. Without invitation, Ignotus's Founder sat beside him, and turned his gaze towards the row of hedges opposite them.

"The cold weather fires the blood," he commented heartily. "It gives strength."

Keeping his eyes diverted, Ignotus desperately tried to think of something to say, but his brain seemed stuck and sluggish.

"I saw you sprinting down the hillside. I had a distinct feeling you were trying to escape, Ignotus. I thought I should follow you."

"I was not trying to escape! I am not a coward!" The words blurted from Ignotus's mouth before he considered them, and he stiffened when they echoed in the cold air. He was being impertinent.

"Hold!" Godric chuckled with good nature. "No one said you were, boy."

Ashamed, Ignotus winced. "I apologize, Master Godric. It was ill of me to say so."

"There is no need to apologize." Godric gently placed his strong hand on Ignotus's shoulder. "You had a terrible blow yesterday, and quite honestly, I did not expect you to remain in the tower. I would have been astounded if you had." He paused and turned his golden gaze towards the hedges again. "Winter has come early this year," he sighed. "In so many ways."

Ignotus swallowed. "I wish... If I had just been there... Perhaps I could have..."

Godric shook his head. "No. You do not want to wish such a thing, and even if you had been there, there was nothing you could have done. Even your brothers were unable to prevent Fate. I am not suggesting that your skills are not formidable – quite the opposite. You have extremely impressive skill, Ignotus. Quite extraordinary for one your age. But you are not ready for war yet." He sighed wearily. "No one is ever ready for war."

"I feel as though I am! I was ready last summer when Antioch and Cadmus left home to fight! I'm sixteen! I'm a man just as they are!"

Godric smiled sadly. "But you are the youngest, and someone had to care for your mother. She would have been devastated if you had left with your brothers and your father to fight in the Clan Wars. If you had, all of her family would have been in grave danger. And you still have much to learn here, Ignotus."

"You constantly tell me I have power above those of my age! Now you tell me I have much to learn –!"

"We all have much to learn. Even I! Learning does not stop when you turn sixteen; it does not stop when you turn one hundred and sixteen. You are young, Ignotus. But I did not mean to imply that your youth makes you a coward, nor does it devalue your bravery and courage. I simply meant that your skills are needed elsewhere at this time."

Ignotus tried a different tactic. Gloomily, he said, "But if I had bravery and courage, I would have gone with my brothers. You accepted me to learn beneath you, Master Godric. They were not selected for bravery and courage as I was, and yet I was the one who remained behind."

"Just because they were not accepted under my tutelage does not mean they are not brave men. Nor is bravery measured by how many wars you fight in. Antioch and Cadmus knew that you were not old enough to accompany them this year, despite your bravery, and I would be shocked if they held that against you."

"But what of my father? He knew you had taken me in as one of your students. He expected great things of me. I wanted to fight alongside him to prove myself! I wanted him to know I was not afraid to fight!" Tears pricked Ignotus's eyes, and he angrily clenched his fists and looked away, lest Godric notice. "Now, he is dead, and he will enter the afterlife believing I was nothing compared to my brothers. He will believe I am just a coward who returned to school rather than to the north of Alba to fight in the Clan Wars like a brave son of our family should have done!"

Godric remained silent for a moment before he murmured, "Your father knew of your bravery. He wrote me several times to express his admiration of your qualities, Ignotus. I would not wish you to believe your father disapproved of you, because that is not the truth."

Ignotus looked at his Founder helplessly. "Will the pain ever cease?" he whispered, realizing how childish and silly the words must sound; how childish everything he had been saying must have sounded.

But Godric did not say he had been childish, nor did he look at Ignotus with disappointment. Instead, his voice was kind and sad. "The pain will cease...eventually. A dull hollow that will forever remain within you will likely replace it. The knowledge of your father's death and this trying time will forever be a part of you. But that is the way of life, Ignotus. It is a cycle, never-ending and timeless, like so many things in our world. Like war and battle. War never ceases, you see. There are times of peace, yes. But where there is peace, there will always be those to start wars, and those to stop them, and so it continues. I daresay you will one day have chance enough to prove yourself in battle. Though, having been in many battles myself, I cannot help but wish otherwise for you, Ignotus. Battle and war are not the things of glory that others would have you believe. They are bleak, grim parts of life that sap your strength and the power of your soul."

"But remember this," he added. "Where there are battles and war that drain life, there will there also be courage, bravery, and goodness. For therein lies the timeless struggle: Good, pitched against Evil. And each man must decide for himself which side he will fight against, even in the grayest of battles where the lines do not appear properly drawn."

Ignotus looked surprised at first; then his expression became determined, if not a bit irritated. "I will fight on the side of Good, of course. Always."

Godric shook his head. "And yet, it is not always so simple, my boy. I fear my words mean little to you now, but one day they will."

"I am trying to make sense of them, sir."

"And I credit you with that!" Godric chuckled softly. "You are always eager to learn and grasp the truth of things."

"If I may say so, sir..." Ignotus swallowed. "Today my mind feels as though it has been wrung out thoroughly; as though I cannot think at all."

"It will feel that way for several days, I fear. Perhaps even a couple of weeks. But I wish you to remember that I am here for you. If you desire to talk, I ask you to seek me. However, I must implore you not to leave the castle or the immediate grounds. Winter is a dangerous time of year."

Ignotus nodded solemnly. "As you wish, sir."

"Let us return inside." Godric rose, his tall frame towering over Ignotus, who was in his own right quite tall. "It is bitter out, isn't it?" He looked towards the sky. "Despite the sun today, I expect we shall have snow before two weeks."

"I dislike winter," Ignotus said moodily. "It is too cold."

"You prefer the summer." His Founder nodded in agreement. "Because you were born in the seventh month. I've noticed that Antioch prefers the winter, whilst Cadmus prefers the autumn. We all prefer the season we were born into. An interesting magic in its own right."

Unsure how to respond or what this meant, Ignotus chose to remain silent – the conversation had taken a more intellectual turn, but deep inside he still felt drained and exhausted and unlike himself. He half-wished he could remain outdoors and let the bleakness seep into his body and soul, but his master was right: it would only serve to make him ill with fever if he were to ignore prudence.

When they entered the Entrance Hall a few minutes later, Godric said, "You may wish to seek your brothers out today. They are undoubtedly as troubled as you are regarding the recent events. It may help to speak to them, and to comfort them if possible."

Ignotus nodded, though he had no real conviction to seek out either Antioch or Cadmus. Both his brothers had changed drastically in the few months they had spent in the north, and he felt as though they had crossed an invisible bridge to a new place while he remained stuck on the opposite side, separated from them. The day before had seemed proof of that.

A soft, musical voice added, "I know Cadmus is quite unlike himself."

Ignotus and Godric turned, and both bowed politely to Rowena Ravenclaw as she approached them. She murmured, "He is quite troubled by your father's death, Ignotus. I only just caught him wandering the upper halls, though I confess I could not bring myself to issue a punishment for breaking the rules and leaving the tower. Some instances exceed the rules we set," she said thoughtfully.

"A little rule breaking is necessary now and again." Godric's voice was light and pleasant, and he winked slyly at Ignotus, who found that he grinned slightly in return.

Then he realized how odd it felt to smile, as though his muscles were stiff and the action was wrong. How could he smile when his father had been killed? Horrified and angry with himself, Ignotus's mouth turned down again.

"Oddly, I agree, Godric." Rowena pressed a slender finger to her lips, still thinking. Then, abruptly, her face returned to a mask-like state as well. "I will meet with you later, good sir. I must collect my parchments for next week's lessons. We have much to discuss when we meet this afternoon." She turned and floated up the marble staircase without further comment.

"See if you can find your brother," Godric suggested. "As Rowena so rightly says, the Founders are meeting this afternoon to discuss lessons, and I too must gather my parchments." He managed a smile at Ignotus before he followed Rowena.

Alone, Ignotus looked about the empty entrance hall. Cadmus could be anywhere, but his favorite location to review his lessons was a small alcove on the sixth floor, tucked away in a narrow corridor that faced the lake. And Rowena Ravenclaw had just stated he was wandering on the upper flowers. Ignotus headed there.

It did not take him long to reach his destination. And as he rounded the corner to the corridor in question, he could see a woman standing with her back to him, facing the alcove he was seeking. The gold of her gown indicated she belonged beneath Mistress Helga.

Ignotus hesitated. He was not overly fond of his brother's beloved. Despite her beauty, her wealth and her family's power gave her an attitude akin to arrogance, and she often looked down on others whom she believed less important than herself. Coupled with her simpering devotion to Cadmus, which was unwavering, she could be practically unbearable. Ignotus could only spend a few moments in her presence before quickly finding something else to occupy his time.

However, he could not escape this time. Cearo had heard his footsteps, and she turned in curiosity to see who was approaching. She regarded Ignotus with a surprised expression for a moment; then, glancing into the alcove, she murmured, "Your brother".

Cadmus's head appeared from the alcove. For the briefest second he looked hopeful, but upon seeing the brother she had referred to was Ignotus and not Antioch, he scowled and disappeared into the alcove again.

Angry, Ignotus immediately stalked forward, ignoring Cearo and stopping before the alcove. Cadmus was sitting within, his knees drawn to his chest. He did not look at his younger brother and Ignotus had to remind himself not to lose his temper just yet.

Instead, he said shortly, "Mistress Rowena advised me you were wandering the castle. She assigned me the task of locating you."

"For what purpose?" Cadmus muttered.

"Damned if I know," Ignotus snapped. "Something about comforting you, but you obviously do not wish to see me."

Cearo frowned at them and spoke before Cadmus could. "Neither of you should be angry with the other," she reminded them. "Cadmus, your brother is just as hurt as you are about what happened to your father."

"He wasn't there. He didn't see it." Cadmus was holding something in his hand, twisting it beneath his fingers. His knuckles clutched convulsively on the object, hiding it completely from Ignotus's view.

"That doesn't mean he isn't hurt by the news," Cearo reiterated.

Ignotus was surprised the girl was taking his side at all. She almost always sided with Cadmus on various matters – he had more than once wondered if she had an opinion of her own. Perhaps he had misjudged her.

"I watched my father die." Cadmus suddenly looked quite furious; the expression made Ignotus tense. It was strange and frightening. He had assumed his brothers would be dealing with their father's death the same way he was – but clearly, Cadmus was dealing with the ordeal in an entirely different manner.

"I never said you didn't watch him die," Ignotus said slowly.

"You weren't there."

"No, I wasn't. But that doesn't mean I didn't want to be there. Someone had to stay with mother. I certainly did not choose to be the youngest."

"And your task," Cearo said, "was just as important as Cadmus and Antioch's. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise, Ignotus."

He stared at her. "It was. I am glad someone else understands that."

Cearo seemed to see his surprise in his expression. She shrugged one shoulder in her usual haughty way, and said, "I have never thought of how you felt until just recently – Cadmus has been quite distraught by what has happened and it occurred to me that you must feel much worse. After all, you heard the news in such an unexpected way. It must have been hard for you."

Startled, he said, "It was. Thank you."

She inclined her head politely.

Cadmus however, did not seem happy with Cearo's sudden niceties to Ignotus. He glowered at her. "He did not watch father's blood spill or hear his scream when he died." His voice was full of malice which was designed to cut Ignotus to the quick; Ignotus had braced himself as best he could when he had seem the sudden, hateful gleam in Cadmus's eyes, but it didn't help much.

"You are only half correct," a cold voice replied. "He did not see father's blood spill, but father never screamed. The scream you heard was your own, Cadmus."

Cadmus visibly flinched. Ignotus turned sharply to face his oldest brother. Antioch was carrying two large tomes under one arm as though they weighed little and his face was set in hard lines as he glared at Cadmus. Ignotus had not even heard his footsteps in the hall prior to his arrival.

"Do not take your emotions out on Ignotus," Antioch went on harshly. "Miss Raedwald is quite correct. Ignotus had a different, though no less important task to fulfill while we did battle in the Clan Wars. He does not deserve your censure, so cease."

Cadmus's knuckles were white. "He is a coward."

This time, Ignotus's temper got the better of him. He snatched his wand from his robes before Cadmus could react. He pointed the wand at Cadmus's throat and snarled, "Do not dare to call me a coward!"

Antioch's strong fingers closed on his wrist, drawing Ignotus's wand away from Cadmus, while Cadmus looked both stunned and furious. Ignotus fought against his elder brother's hand in vain.

"That won't help matters," Antioch said sternly, scowling at Ignotus. "So calm your temper. Now." He then turned the scowl on Cadmus. "And you. Do not torment him. He is no coward. You are the coward," he said with disgust. "The scream you heard when father fell was your own. You screamed and cried like a child who had no regard for manhood or dignity. Would it better Ignotus had come with father and me to the north to fight, and we had left you at home with mother. He at least would have displayed courage in battle. He was not chosen to learn beneath Master Godric if not for that."

"I do not have to listen to such insults!" Cadmus snarled, rising from the alcove and glaring at Antioch, who stood several inches taller and did not appear troubled by his brother's anger in the least. "I watched my father die!"

"As did I," Antioch reminded him frostily. "Do not forget that, Cadmus. You are not the only one who suffers the pain of death. However, you should find some way to channel your pain, as I am doing."

"You mean, such as studying wandlore?" Cadmus sneered. "As if that will help?"

Antioch did not appear perturbed by the outburst. "I believe it will. Athol claimed he had a superior wand, which enabled him to defeat the most battle-hardened and accomplished of warriors. Wands are, however, created by wizards and it is said that a wand is only as good as the wizard who wields it. However, if I can create a superior wand to Athol's, I could avenge father's death."

Cadmus laughed mirthlessly. "A meaningless task!"

"Avenging father is meaningless?" Antioch asked slowly. There was a hard look in his eyes that made Ignotus tense just as he had when seeing the mad look on Cadmus's features before.

Venturing to interrupt and risk Antioch's anger, he queried, "Avenge, or revenge?"

"Call it what you wish. I care not." Antioch shrugged. "I intend to follow through with it regardless. Do not forget, Ignotus: despite my belief that you would have been the better brother to take with me into battle, you are still but sixteen and have much to learn."

Ignotus felt a surge of annoyance. "Those are the words Master Godric said to me this morning."

"You would be wise to listen to your Founder. He is correct. There is nothing to be done about what has come to pass, only what is yet to come."

"There is nothing yet to come," Cadmus interjected. He was trembling slightly; Cearo grasped his arm in concern but he did not look at her. "Father is dead, Antioch. And he should not be."

Antioch's lip curled. "It is not our place to question Destiny or what may have been had things taken a different turn. This cannot be changed."

"Can't it?" Cadmus's voice was quiet and it was almost as though he were speaking to himself. A sudden light flared in his dull eyes. "We are wizards, Antioch. Magic can indeed change things."

Ignotus shot Antioch a look of utmost concern – Cadmus was speaking like a madman. The look Antioch gave his youngest brother in return indicated he thought so as well.

"Magic cannot change Death," Antioch said slowly, glancing back at Cadmus.

"Perhaps we have not yet studied deep enough." Cadmus's eyes glittered brightly, as though an idea was taking hold of him. "Perhaps we have not yet tapped into the deepest secrets of magic. There may be ways..."

"Have you gone mad?" whispered Cearo. Her eyes flickered to Antioch and Ignotus, then back to her lover again. "The dead cannot be made alive again, Cadmus!"

"No? We shall see." Cadmus looked at Antioch smugly. "You wish to make a wand superior to all others and you suggest that I channel my anger, too. Very well. I shall take your suggestion and advise you once I have done additional research on this new idea. I shall come up with something much better than a mere wand."

And before Antioch or Ignotus could respond, Cadmus had taken Cearo's hand and was guiding her down the corridor and around the corner, despite her look of horror.

Ignotus shook his head once he was certain his brother was gone. "He is mad. What does he mean to do? Cearo is right – the dead remain dead." His shoulders dropped. "Much as I wish I could see father again, I know perfectly well there is no hope in that."

Antioch shifted the thick books, both of which Ignotus now noticed were on wandlore. "I know not. When father died, Cadmus changed," he said slowly. "He would wake at night screaming, or he would talk to himself during the day, as though he were talking to father, as if father were beside him to answer. The men in camp insisted he was mad. I wonder now if they were not correct in their theories."

"And you? How are you?" Ignotus looked at his brother gravely. Antioch was always aloof and distant, but he was still the oldest and he did look out for his younger brothers. Ignotus could not help but feel concerned for him. Antioch would be carrying the most weight on his shoulders simply because he was the oldest.

"I?" Antioch's eyes clouded. For a moment, he gazed down the corridor. Then he turned to Ignotus and smiled softly. "I will be myself again, in time. Do not worry for me, brother."

"I worry for both of my brothers."

"Let me worry. You should focus on your studies." Antioch began to walk, indicating for Ignotus to come with him. "What will your focus be this year, Ignotus?" he asked, changing the conversation smoothly.

"Master Godric wishes me to continue studying the Dark Arts and their Defenses, as usual." Ignotus sighed. "At the start of the term, he suggested I study privately with him and explore new spells and techniques, such as the Patronus Charm and other high-level spells designed for combat."

"A worthy field of study. One that suits you well."

"So Master Godric says."

"You are unsure?"

The fear that had been welling up inside of him all morning tentatively voiced itself. "I sometimes wonder if I am brave enough to study beneath Master Godric."

Antioch turned down a flight of stairs to the third floor. "Do not let Cadmus's anger and brash words affect you so. He is only angry because he does not have your bravery and courage. Study Defense, Ignotus. It will serve a worthy purpose and be useful in the future."

When Antioch paused at a tapestry that concealed a staircase that led to the ground floor, Ignotus asked, "Where do you go today?"

"I intend to do research on wandlore in my dormitory. It is quiet there and I can spread my books out for better review. Once I have a basic understanding of the subject, I will speak with Deogal Ollivander and see if he will accept me as a temporary apprentice. I could learn much from him."

"Please be careful, Antioch."

A smirk etched Antioch's classic features. "I am always careful. Return to the tower and see your friends – they were worried about you when you didn't come to dinner last night."

Ignotus sighed petulantly as Antioch disappeared down the steps. After his brother was gone, he shivered and decided that he did not particularly wish to see his friends, even if they were worried about his wellbeing. What he really wanted to do was run again. He wanted to run away, and let the pounding of his feet on hard ground send shocks up his legs and keep him going onward.

But he had promised his Founder that he would remain in the castle or the courtyards, and he knew he could not go back on his word. Sighing heavily, he began to trudge back to the seventh floor.

Running, he decided wretchedly, was truly the act of a coward. And yet, he still wanted to run. How could he be worthy of being a student of Godric Gryffindor if he was so terrified of death? He did not know the answer.