Eve of the Lycans
The late afternoon found the last few stranglers at Diagon Alley quickly finishing last minute errands. Night would be approaching soon and no respectable wizard would be caught out, especially with You-Know-Who just around the next corner. But while Diagon Alley might be closing people were flocking toward the other alleys. Dulcis Alley's many bars and nightclubs were exploding in a sea of wild light patters. The nightlife was swinging into gear.
The atmosphere was kept more sedate down Knockturn Alley. Deeply hooded individuals walked quickly from errand to errand, Merlin knows what sort of disaster would emerge if the Aurors performed an emergency raid. Wizards everywhere avoided eye contact which made for a truly strange sight.
Charmed to look like a black-eyed golden-haired man Harry walked confidently into a robe shop down Diagon Alley near the entrance into Knockturn minutes before the shop closed. Ignoring the sour glare the casher shot him Harry quickly bought a standard sized gray cloak.
Outside he pulled the cloak over his head throwing his face into shadow. Figuring he looked sufficiently menacing he stalked into Knockturn Alley. It was all about attitude he reminded himself. If he looked scary enough no one would approach him less he prove he really was as scary as he looked. Luckily he didn't have to wander around looking for the right shop.
Veneficures Standard, open since 1938It was a potion shop with blacked out windows and an empty cart of newt eyes out front. The particular shop sold rare ingredients as well as a whole range of ready-made potions. Of course they were the type of potions most parents kept away from their children.
The inside was just as forbidding as the outside. A heavy-set man with wisps of white hair tented the front counter. Harry idled next to the scalp of a merman as the shopkeeper wrapped up the order of an equally cloaked customer.
"Need any help?" The gruff voice of the shopkeeper floated toward Harry.
Harry looked down at the man for a second in stance that would have made Malfoy proud. The man was good but even he twitched under his steady stare. "I want a standard sized vile of Polyjuice Potion."
"So does every wand-waving wet-eared wizard." The man said roughly as he wiped a jar free from some suspicious looking yellow-slime.
Harry gave him a level glare. "I have no interest in hearing you waste air. I want the vial now."
For a moment Harry thought the man would argue but after a second he merely grunted and opened a glass cabinet behind him. A quiet click signaled a corked vile being placed on the counter. Harry gingery picked it up and studied it in the light. Merlin knows he spent more than enough time looking at Polyjuice when he helped brew it. Unfortunately he neither had the time nor the ability to do it himself. He uncorked it and sniffed it. Swallowing roughly he confirmed the same vile stench.
"I will be very…displeased should any trickery be involved." Harry said loftily with no small threat in his voice.
"I sell nothing but the best." Huffed the proprietor.
"For your sake…" Harry said absentmindedly while sneering at the shop in general even as he pulled out a moneybag. He knew the shopkeeper would charge him a bit more for being an annoyance but at least this way he would not dare cheat him. Most people knew not to invite trouble.
"Forty galleons."
Harry sniffed distastefully at the man and counted the appropriate amount. Pocketing the vile Harry strolled out.
Pulling the cloak in front of his face Harry quickly left the shadowy Knockturn Alley. He didn't really need to see a hag's 'wares' being displaced so vulgarly.
Down Dulcis Alley wizarding music blared out of clubs each time a club's front door opened. Silencing charms kept the noise level down most of the time.
People dressed in strange variants of Muggle and Wizarding clothes laughed gaily as they walked along the blue cobbled path Dulcis was known for. Under one old-fashioned mage-light two gray-robed Aurors—the Guard assigned to this Alley—chatted with a group of giggling witches.
Harry ignored all of that. He proceeded to the darker end of Dulcis Alley to one particular club famous for something other than dancing. Near the entrance of the dim club a dark-eyed witch in veiled robes smoked cigars made from crushed dragon scales. Neon purple puffs of smoke lazily drifted in the air.
"Looking for anything special?" She called with a sly smile plastered on her face. Harry ignored the witch and opened the door into the nightclub. Inside it wasn't all that crowded. But then again the club catered more to private entertainment. He walked up to the bar and ordered a shot of fire-whiskey.
"Looking for something?" an airy voice whispered near his ear. Harry didn't even have to look to know a scantily dressed woman was now winding ruby nails through messy artificial blond hair.
"Not tonight luv."
"You sure about that? I'm certain you won't regret it in the morning"
Harry snaked his own arm around her wandering ones and removed them from his body. "Not tonight."
"I'm here all night if you change your mind." She offered one last time before going in search of another prey.
"I'm counting on it." He muttered softly as he drowned out another shot. Throwing a few Sickles on the counter Harry nodded once to the bartender and as simply as that left the nightclub behind.
Outside the smoking witch had been joined by a gaudy wizard wearing entirely too much red leather.
Harry strolled along the Alley without any real purpose but always with a wary eye making such he wasn't being followed. Somewhere behind him a witch working in the world's oldest profession would be escorting some bloke with too many galleons for their own good into one of the private booths at the nightclub. In a while the same witch will be cleaning up after the night's entertainment and find an unknown wand. It isn't her job to worry about such matters and all she would do was give it to the bartender on her way out. The club owners' eager to cozy up with their proprietors would discretely try to return the wand. Harry almost wished he was there when the wand came back as registered to Amos Diggory. After that returning the wand wouldn't seem as big as a priority as selling the information to the highest bidding news rag.
A scandal to usher in the Minister's new term. Harry might not be able to actively go against the Minister but such a powerful man would soon enough have powerful enemies that will not be so discrete. And the public did not like being reminded leading figures in the government were not asexual.
Overhead the sky had completely faded into soft midnight blue, the distant stars charmed into clarity in contrast to the rest of London's sky. From Tonks he knew an Order meeting was scheduled for the night. But it wasn't Grimmauld Place that called his attention that evening; rather the Burrow was his destination.
S
Apparating outside the Burrow's extensive wards Harry took a minute to get his bearing. In the distance he could see bright lights spilling out into the countryside. The ground was covered by a fine layer of snow that must have fallen only recently. The wards on the Burrow were on par with Grimmauld's own securities and were woven in with barriers from Egyptian, English, and Romanian origins. They had everything save the Fidelus Charm and only because they couldn't safely ask anyone to set the appropriate runes.
Despite all those wards Harry only needed to walk up the driveway. Mrs. Weasley had keyed his magical signature to the wards the moment her sons even thought of raising them.
Thankfully Mrs. and Mr. Weasley considered Ron and Ginny responsible enough to take care of themselves for the evening. Harry just hoped the elder Weasley children were also gone. He didn't know Bill and Charlie well enough to be confident they wouldn't detain him for Dumbledore to find. At least he didn't have to worry about the other Weasleys, they either lived on their own or wouldn't care to stop him.
Light from a merry fire flickered through a crack in the window curtains. Even in the chilly night the Burrow had an aura of warmth that called one to just come in. Picking up a griffin knocker he banged it a couple times as he huddled in his coat. Hastily he cancelled his glamour spells, something he didn't think who ever answered would appreciate.
The door cracked open to reveal a redhead clutching a wand.
"Harry?" was the startled greeting.
"Eh…Hello George."
"Come in mate, no need to freeze out there." Bemused Harry watched as George practically hauled him inside and hustled his soggy cloak off him. For a moment Harry was tempted to compare him to his mother but he figured this Weasley wouldn't take it all that well.
"How'd you know it was me?" In typical fashion George asked what concerned him the most instead of questioning what Harry (who should had been in Hogwarts) was doing there.
"Fred's the nice one."
George wrinkled his nose disdainfully. "But I'm the pretty one."
Harry laughed despite himself. "Uh…not to argue that fact but is Ginny and Ron here?"
"Of course mate. Mum hasn't let them out of the house since they came home…you know on account of the big bad dark lord prowling the streets looking for naughty ickle kids. Ginny! Ron! There's a bloke here looking for you!"
Despite being only two people it sounded like a stampede was thundering down the stairs.
"Animals I tell you!" George called out loudly.
"Who you calling an animal?" was Ron's greeting. His eyes widened as he spotted their evening visitor. "Harry? Got lost on your way back to Gryffindor Tower?"
Harry smiled nervously at his best friend. "Sort of…?"
The redhead rolled his eyes.
"Can I talk to you? Ginny too." Harry asked quietly, his eyes nervously darting toward George. He liked most (if not all) the Weasleys but what he had to say he only felt comfortable telling the Weasleys that had kept his council even when Harry was being an idiot and not talking to either of them.
"Of course." Ginny hastily assured him. "Why don't you come upstairs and we can leave George here to pretend he wasn't floo calling Angelina."
"Right-o." George cheerfully agreed.
Upstairs the two Weasleys led him into the same Chudley Cannon-orange room that he shared with Ron whenever Harry visited. Harry felt awkward bringing up the matter of a Silencing Ward but Ron cast one without blinking.
"No worries mate, standard procedure whenever the twins are visiting."
"Where's Fred?"
Ginny scowled. "At the Order meeting. Mum left George here to look after us."
"So not to be a mood-crasher but why aren't you at Hogwarts?" Ron asked with his trademark blunt manner.
"About that…" Harry coughed nervously.
"You had best not run away." Ginny said channeling Mrs. Weasley. "Merlin knows what Mum will do when she finds out."
"It's not that…but I'm pretty sure she'll find out about me tonight… The thing is I'm not going back to Hogwarts."
Silence effulged the room.
"What?" squawked Ron.
Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother. "Why not?"
"I might have withdrawn."
"You might have…" breathed Ginny. She looked forlornly at him. "But it's not as simple as that, is it?"
Harry gave her a sheepish smile before blanking his face in preparation for the tale that would follow. "After the Winter Ball two Aurors woke me from my room at the Leakey Cauldron. They took me to a meeting Minister Diggory had called. He apparently dragged Professor Dumbledore there as well. There he told us both he wanted me to be expelled from Hogwarts. Apparently my presence is too dangerous. Diggory wanted my expulsion but I managed to get off with a voluntary withdrawal with an option to take my NEWTs at the Ministry later in the year."
"Bloody hell!"
"Dumbledore wanted me to go to Grimmauld Place but I'll go mad if they lock me up there and I know they will."
"What's going to happen now?" Ron asked quietly, his eyes troubled.
Harry gave him a wan smile. "A new adventure."
Ron looked appropriately stunned. Ginny was rapidly paling, agitated hands rubbing her weak knee.
"Harry, no! Not again…please not again." She suddenly pleaded desperately; red hair was flung in disarray. Ron remained silent, his face lined heavily with thoughts of past dangers. Both knew first hand what a new adventure meant when your name was Harry Potter.
Harry had given them the news and it was finally settling into place.
"How can Diggory be such a fool! He took you away from Hogwarts! Hogwarts!" She spat angrily.
"It's truly alright Ginny." Harry said softly, more than a little cowed by the raging redhead. She was scary when she wanted to be.
"Of course it's not alright! What right has he to do that? You've as much right to learn there as any of us—more even! Merlin knows you've saved the school often enough."
"Ginny, listen to me...Can you just listen?"
Flushed with anger Ginny took a few calming breaths before she could even answer.
"It doesn't matter. Not in the long run and not to me."
"But…you can't let them do that. Let them decide for you and give up without a fight. I can't believe Dumbledore is allowing this! They certainly weren't letting you leave the grounds when they thought Sirius was out to get you."
"It's a game, isn't it?" Ron finally said, his voice low and hesitant. "It's always been a game."
Harry was silent as he contemplated his best friend. Once he revealed what he knew he couldn't hide it again. These were two of his oldest friends and they more than anyone deserved to know about the shadowy secrets he played with. "It was the most conniving game ever…one that has cost so many lives and ruined so much potential. It's a game that began before we were born and it's caught us right in the middle of the final move."
His eyes never wavered from the two Weasleys. "Someone once told me Betrayal begets betrayal. Before Voldemort was Voldemort Dumbledore betrayed Tom Riddle. He probably thought it was for the best and no one would ever suffer his decision…but it didn't end there."
"And it became a chess game between them." Surmised Ron, his face morose. "A battle to outthink, out maneuver and finally win. The Order against the Death Eaters and spies making the round."
Harry looked away from the redheads, his treacherous mouth ready to kill the last part of innocence and naivety either Weasley still had. "I don't know what anyone was thinking but I can hazard a guess. I believe Dumbledore had a…suspicion Voldemort would become what he is today. He took certain measures he believed would prevent Riddle's fate. It backfired—spectacularly. I think they started playing against each other since Riddle was still Riddle. It was a war of containment and backstabbing. They picked their players and set them against each other."
"But Dumbledore…why would he let so many people fall?"
Harry never paused his monologues tale. "Voldemort threw on the evil in the hearts of people while Dumbledore called to his champions of the Light. Why murder one man when another will step in his place? Gather them together, forge their loyalty and idealism, and when the time is right if their leader shall fall they become nothing but broken pieces. Magic screwed them both over when she named her own champion; a child who would have the power to bring Voldemort his end and be just as Dark as he ever was—an 'equal'."
"But why?" Ginny interrupted brokenly. She knew precisely what child he was referring to and she didn't like it one bit. "Why expect a child to do so much?"
Harry shrugged. "A child's fate they both tried to control either through death or loyalty. Frankly this power struggle should have been resolved long ago but for what we did."
"We?"
Harry smile enigmatically. "By keeping the Philosophers Stone away and by preventing Riddle's resurrection. Had Voldemort risen during our first or second year you honestly think we would have survived it? Back then we trusted every word Dumbledore said and if he wanted us to face a dozen Death Eaters with only a wand in tow we would have done it. But none of us quite believe in him the way our parents did. None of us can give him our lives as easily…not after everything Ginny has faced or Ron has seen or I've done."
Harry fell silent, waiting for one of them to voice their denial. He continued in the silence, the mage-lights casting lazy shadows across the room. "I've been running around both of them for years now, keeping just out of reach. I won't be able to do it for much longer now…and I guess it's time to tell you…things. Things that I'm afraid you might not forgive me for…and I hope things you will accept as part of who I am."
He studied both of them nervously. Despite their oaths and friendship Harry feared what the truths he revealed would do to his friends. Could they look past certain proof he wasn't a golden boy?
"Please promise you'll think over whatever I say no matter your initial feelings?" Harry knew he was delaying but he couldn't help it.
"On my life I swear it." Ginny said immediately, no hesitance in her demeanor.
"I promise." Ron said a little more seriously.
"Now tell us already."
"It's…a little hard to begin. Don't interrupt me when I start…I might not finish. When I was little I used to wonder if I might have been better if I had died with my parents. Of course back then I was under the impression they had died in a car accident. When I came to Hogwarts I hated the beginning of summer because it meant I would have to return. In third year I met Sirius and I guess I started waking up. For a minute there I had a home and I thought if I waited just a bit more I could find that home. They'd catch Pettigrew and I could live with Sirius. Of course the world went to hell after that. The Triwizard Tournament, Voldemort's rebirth, Umbridge, Occlumency lessons, the visions, the Department of Mysteries, the po-possession, and the prophecy—"
"It was shattered." Piped Ginny before flushing for speaking out of turn.
"The prophecy wasn't as lost as people would like to believe. For safety's sake the exact contents will be kept secret but we all know that prophesy dealt with—Voldemort and myself. Voldemort knew the beginning of it; his spy was there when the Seer spoke. It became a prophecy that controlled the fate of the Magical Britain for the last two decades because two men believed in it more than they should have.
"I don't think anyone really likes talking about how bad it was but the Order and Ministry were losing. Their defeat was months…probably weeks away. Then the prophecy was made and Voldemort feared it while Dumbledore found hope. Voldemort came that Halloween night in order to destroy a fledging threat to his rule.
'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches
born to those who have thrice defied him,
born as the seventh month dies…'
You have to understand—the decisions and history of other people to understand the final outcome. The prophecy wasn't even talking about me specifically. Dumbledore told me he had signaled out at least two children that had the potential. There wasn't anything too spectacular about our births in themselves to indicate which would be the so-called champion. I belonged to a noble family but so did the other child marked. We were normal as far as babies go—no hidden magical heritage, no spectacular feats of magic, no god-born signs or anything as ridiculous as that. I've gone back to records of the time and pieced together everything as closely as I could."
Harry paused, trying to organize chronological order and not the wild order in which he'd discovered everything. "I probably wasn't even a week old when Sirius approached my mum about binding me to the Black Family. I know it seems strange that my father would be unawares but records indicate James Potter served in the Ministry within the Department of Foreign Affairs from 1977 to 1980. Back then every wizard was needed and in all likelihood my dad wouldn't have been around much. He spent much of his time rallying support in other countries. Sirius on the other hand worked as a freelancer of sorts for the Order. He'd been an Auror for a while but it was hard keeping that up. Too many of the Light didn't trust his name and too many of the Dark didn't like his affiliations. Eventually he quit when he realized no one was going to trust him. The Black's are famous for some Seer blood they carried since it bred true most generations. What ability Sirius had told him he would never father an Heir and his Family would kill him. He might have hated his Family but there were still some that counted on him to preserve the name. His cousin Andromeda for one hoped he would redeem it. My mum wrote it was the ultimate joke on the Blacks—Tourjus Pur would belong to a half-blood. She kept a record of it because she also felt she wouldn't have much time. Neither told my father because apparently they felt he wouldn't understand the unease they held—it would only worry him that both his wife and best friend would die soon.
"It all comes back to the second line: 'born to those who thrice defied him'. The prophecy didn't have any set parameters, so long as someone was born of people who defied Voldemort it didn't matter if one event happened before the other. Believe it or not when I was born the prophecy hadn't latched on any one person. My mum had defied him twice already while my father did once. The other potential child was the son of two Aurors, both of whom were rapidly fulfilling that requirement. In his haste to return to England my father joined the Vatican Aurors in an assault led against Voldemort himself. My father battled Voldemort for a bit before retreating—defying him for the second time. A month after that Sirius, who had become my third parent when he had the blood and magic of the Black Family adopt me, was involved in a blitz against some Death Eaters. The Order had decided to push hard that day; too many other battles had ended badly if you will. In the mist of the conflict Sirius stumbled upon Voldemort, the two took shots at each other but Sirius managed to retreat. Your mum's brothers, the Prewetts, died there. He would go on to defy Voldemort two more times before the war would end.
"In the beginning of 1981 my parents decided to hide. They traveled for a while evading Death Eaters till Dumbledore had the time and energy to cast the Fidelus. Pettigrew was made the Secret-Keeper and as you know we were betrayed. Using some twisted logic Voldemort picked me as his enemy. I don't really know why he did that but Dumbledore once told me it was because I was the most alike to him—both half bloods. He came to Godric's Hallow on October 31, 1981. My father battled him in the foyer before falling and consequently defying Voldemort for the last time when they crossed wands. In the nursery my mum waited for him. He of-offered her mercy if she would s-stand aside. She wouldn't and for the last time defied him. By willingly standing before him she was able to evoke the power of sacrificial magic. It pushed him back…but something else happened that night. How many mothers' stood before their children? Something else drove him back and I don't think we'll ever really know what happened. The Killing Curse had an unforeseen effect on us. It bound us; our soul, our magic, and our blood. Because I lived he did as well and he was able to flee so he might become stronger. Afterwards…I was placed with the Dursleys."
Harry faltered. The Dursleys were not something he liked dwelling on. He continued his tale, his voice clipped to keep as much reign as he could on his memories. "They served their purpose, at least the one Dumbledore indented. My mother's blood protected me but they also taught me many unforeseen things. Hogwarts was my home; I would have done anything to protect it, to protect the world that was mine, and the friends that choose me. Dumbledore knew what I would have to become to stand against Voldemort. I could never hope to surpass him in terms of knowledge so I…highly suspect Dumbledore stepped back to allow us to stumble on our own. He may have succeeded in preventing me from growing up with an over-inflated ego by sending me to the Muggle world…but now he had to find something to tie me to Wizarding World. Back in first year it wasn't till we rescued Hermione that I had any close friends. My first tie to this world…at least our friendship has been interesting. I and by extension my friends were pushed and prodded to become warriors if only to survive Voldemort's presence. It happened and in Dumbledore's defense it was the only way for me to survive to meet Voldemort in battle.
"But I grew up…so much was hidden from me I realize. My parents meddled enough in my life without the world contributing. Even Sirius who bound me as a son never told me. The Black Will left everything to me and the Order knew for over a year. I couldn't trust them; I wouldn't even have tried in the perpetual bad mood I was in sixth-year. I don't know how much you realize just how close I was to loosing it.
"I met a vampire who helped me. During the Summers I was locked away at Hogwarts I rarely spend a whole day there. For Merlin's sake I sold basilisk parts in Asia. But now I have to tell you about where things go awry…
"Voldemort's connection to me strengthened and we began seeing each others memories. I understand the charm that made his diary-self so attractive. I've built shields to keep him out but anytime either of us feels strong emotions we are drawn together. Voldemort and Sirius did the same thing to me though I admit Sirius was gentler about it. They basically performed soul magic that tied me to their bloodlines. I've acknowledged Black but I haven't dared touch Slytherin.
"I've been running away from the war, evading and fooling everyone that would catch me. I know I won't be able to keep it up for long. I've always been expected to fight in this war. Morrigan helped protect me for a while and will continue doing so till this last mystery is solved. Sirius and…my mother carried the Sight."
"Your mum was a Muggle-born." Retorted Ginny. "Err…sorry."
"Neither was very strong in the Gift but its been passed down faithfully. That is how I know by summer one way or another this will be over. Voldemort's been gathering his strength for months, keeping the scale of his attacks in line. I've had dreams of a girl that…tells me the importance of blood…? I don't know what that means yet but I know who might. I'm searching for the pieces of the puzzle and I need to do it quickly without interfere."
Harry finally paused, looking at both silent Weasleys. Ginny's eyes were bloodshot while Ron had his whole head bowed.
"You're asking us to stay out of it, aren't you?" Ron finally choked out.
Harry gave him a pained glance. "Should Voldemort die…I die as well. And…I can do that. I can. But I also have some of the Sight Sirius and my mum carried and I think…if I follow where it leads me I might be able to figure something out."
"But we can help you." Ginny pleated quietly.
"Not where I'm going. I need to move quickly and I need to know you two are safe."
"We've always been by your side." Ginny reminded him. "We went to the Ministry with you and fought alongside you."
Harry shifted uncomfortably. "And I appreciate what you've done. By summer this will be over. I know it in my very bones. I need you two to keep yourself safe and to keep an eye out for anything you think I should know. I don't think I'll be able to stay in contact with everything that is happening but I will need to know…somehow…when I have to return. Hopefully I'll have figured out something."
"Does Dumbledore know about the…death link?" Ron asked with a hard voice, a helpless anger swimming behind his eyes.
Harry would be frank. "For about as long as it has been there. Because I was part of the resurrection ritual are souls and magic became died together beyond repair." Despite himself Harry's voice broke. Not even he could be so cold when talking about his death. "Why train a pawn when all he needs is to die?"
A second later two redheads effulged him in a tight hug.
"Will he do anything about it?" Ginny whispered shakily.
Harry shook his head against her shoulder. Just as quietly he whispered back. "He believes in prophecies and fate. He believes it our fate to deal the killing blow."
Ron flinched at the 'k'-word.
"What will you have us do?" Ginny said, her brown eyes determined as they stared back into shadowy emerald orbs.
Harry was quiet for a long moment. "Live for me…and hope…"
"On my soul I swear." Two voices promised in that quiet corner of the Burrow. Harry stared at their faces and memorized all he could. He hoped it would be enough to keep his will from wavering. From taking the easy path and ending the war in a manner that would make him a martyr or from running away from it all. Some part of him yelled to run away, to leave the wizards to their fate. He didn't like most of them, why should he have to die for them?
"On my soul I swear." Harry repeated faintly.
S
"The Ministry is suffering from the latest setback; they lost much face when Fenrir Greyback led some of his werewolves into Galen." Kingsley Shacklebolt informed the Order of the Phoenix.
"Is it possible to sway the werewolves?" Emmeline Vance asked hesitantly, blushing from all the eyes on her.
"Perhaps but in any case it would be unwise to approach them right now. Known werewolves are being watched very closely by people within the Ministry best kept ignorant of our own actions."
"I was stopped twice last week. Luckily the Aurors recognized me from Hogwarts but it would have been…unpleasant had they not." Remus said softly, an ever-present weariness deep in his voice.
Various Order members clucked sympathetically.
"What will be the repercussions of the Ministry's edicts?" said the no-nonsense voice of Sinclair Rutherford, a recent recruit from St. Mungo's administrative staff.
"So far nothing official has been said but someone tried to burn down an inn down Dulcis Alley with a reputation for catering to the darker aspects of society. Fenrir's attack brought noticeable attention to werewolves. As of yet only those active in Wizarding society have been questioned. It won't be long before Aurors are ordered to investigate the recluse Clans. When that happens…we can only wait and watch how they'll react."
Some of the Order members from the previous war traded uneasy looks.
"There's nothing we can do that we aren't already doing. Moving on, any news Mr. Fletcher?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly.
"It's just Dung." Muttered Mundungus Fletcher. He glanced nervously at the faces around the table before digging his hands into his worn coat. "I was ah…doin' business with a fellow when I overheard some chap and lady start arguing—"
"As interesting as a lover's spat sounds…" Snape said achingly. His face set on a very foul mood.
" 'cept this lady was a real Lady. The chap called her Lady…although another fellow called her Liadan. But the thing was the Lady was a…vampire. Wasn't native either. The chap was human though and her next meal except he batted her away like she was nothing. They talked a bit and left together."
"And this is relevant how?" Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody said sharply, his whirling eye making more than one watching wizard nauseous.
"That chap…was 'Arry Potter."
The room exploded in a cacophony of voices, ranging from Snape's venomous mutters to Mrs. Weasley's high keening cry of distress.
"Can you tell us any more?" Remus demanded.
Dung shifted uncomfortably under everyone's scrutiny. "Can't say much else. They left together with a couple of other fellows, guards by the look of them."
"This is most unsettling news." Dumbledore said slowly, his presence reigning in the talking wizards. "Unfortunately that may very well be Mr. Potter. I trust what news I reveal be kept quiet till the beginning of term, it is the least we can do to ensure Mr. Potter's continuous safety. After the Winter Ball Mr. Potter officially withdrew from Hogwarts—"
Dumbledore patiently waited for the room to settle down. "Young Harry rejected my offer to return here. Hopefully he will realize the danger around him before it is too late. However I cannot allow anyone to search for him till the beginning of term less we alert Voldemort—" flinch "—of this new development."
"You can't mean to allow him to stay with those…vampires!" sputtered Mrs. Weasley.
"Harry is more than capable of handling himself!" Tonks immediately shot back.
"The boy's hardly left Hogwarts! He can't possibly know the dangerous he faces out in the world." Mrs. Weasley informed everyone tartly.
"Didn't exactly protect him before." Tonks said snidely, flushing slightly under the reprimanding gaze of Professor Dumbledore.
"Ladies calm yourselves. We cannot resolve anything if we can't even discuss this calmly."
Both women muttered quiet apologies.
"Young Harry will undoubtedly contact young Mr. Weasley soon. Molly if you could impact the importance on him to convince Mr. Potter to return to Grimmauld Place it will be very helpful. For now we cannot risk alerting the public that Mr. Potter is on his own."
"Headmaster I must protest the amount of leeway you continuously allow Mr. Potter." Snape achingly interrupted. "He is aware of this organization, about the operations conducted here. All the fool needs is for someone to slip him some Veritaserum and he can name a great deal of the Order."
A few people shifted uncomfortably.
"I trust Mr. Potter will be able to keep away from those situations." Dumbledore said brightly ignoring more than one frowning face. "Hopefully Mr. Potter will be joining us here at Grimmauld Place before the winter holiday ends."
Not everyone was entirely happy with that decision but they all respected Albus Dumbledore too much too naysay him. After all, who knew better than the most powerful wizard alive?
S
"What really happened?" Moody gruffly said as way of introduction.
Dung Fletcher scratched his head nervously. Moody always made him nervous whenever he focused that odd eye on him. But honestly he was a crook born-and-breed and Moody would always make him nervous.
Dung had gone to the upstairs bathroom with the sinking dread that Moody would find him soon enough. You end up owing a paranoid Auror a favor and it haunts you for the rest of your crooked life.
"Like I said." Dung shrunk under Moody's glare. "I might have forgotten to add a few things…Potter was at the bar drinking. There really was a Lady except he called her Ladislas. She hassled him for a while but he swatted her away life she was nothing. He did the flame-trick the Professor said he did at school a few weeks ago. Potter told her to go away but she wouldn't. Looked real mad for a bit there. Then another chap interrupted them…named Faolan. He invited Potter back to the Clan Manor. They left together and I lost track of them afterwards."
"What do you know about the Ladislas people he left with?"
Dung shifted a bit under Moody's whirling eye. "Don't get too many of those in England. Old Vampire Clan from Greece or some part 'round there. Useful to know if Potter ever wants to leave Britain for good."
"I know you'll keep quiet about this Fletcher." Moody barked in his drill-sergeant voice.
Dung nodded his head wildly. Merlin help him if he even thought of disagreeing.
Moody frowned once at the thief before dismissing him. Fletcher practically slithered against the wall trying to avoid touching the paranoid ex-Auror.
"Albus, old friend, what game are you playing at?" Mad-Eye muttered to himself. He snorted once to himself in quiet amusement. "Boy, I hope you appreciate what I'm doing…"
He shook his head once before going back downstairs in search of people to unsettle. At his age he needed something to pass the time and unfortunately he couldn't spend all the time plotting against Dark Wizards.
S
Harry left the Burrow with plenty of time to avoid the arrival of any stray Weasleys. Ron and Ginny knew better than to ask him to stay. Chances were if he did he might never leave. On his way out he didn't see George but Harry trusted the younger Weasleys to make the appropriate excuses to him and if that failed Ginny could always threaten the twin into compliance.
That night he would sleep in a Muggle hotel. It was just outside London and set in a quiet hamlet that would serve to hide him for the time being. He didn't know how long Dumbledore and Diggory would be able to keep news of his freedom quiet. Chances were the news would break long before the holiday was over. He would rather not think about it overmuch. It made him uneasy thinking of the babbling idiots that reasonably intelligent wizards would become the moment they realized their so-called savior had no minders.
Tomorrow he would go in search of the Brungle cousins and hopefully they would be able to lead him somewhere. They were part of a Clan and unfortunately for Harry for safety's sake he had avoided learning which one…but not like it could help him find Clan Ilandere. That particular Clan didn't exist anymore.
S
Pale moonlight filtered through the treetops. Twisted trees rose like grotesque characters amidst the shadows. In the distance the high keening cry of an animal echoed. Damp forest air penetrated the layer of clothes Harry wore.
He did not like this one bit.
He was tempted to stay where he was but something told him he to go forward. There was something he had to see. Dry leaves crunched under his passing feet.
"Why don't you know?"
Harry literally jumped as the unexpected voice rang clearly in the quiet night. Tempted to label it a disembodied voice and move on Harry finally spotted a figure perched on a branch near his position.
"Why haven't you seen what you've been shown?" The figure demanded once again. In the ghostly moonlight pale skin shown with an iridescent glow. Dark auburn hair spilled along the face of a familiar onyx-eyed girl. Except this time black eyes were bright with tears and pain. She pleated desperately, "Why haven't you Seen?"
"Seen what?"
The girl focus traveled away from him down to her stomach. Trembling hands clutched her middle once before offering them both to him. Pale hands glowed with ruby red stain. "I-I didn't want to die…"
Her face contorted once and then she was shrieking. Like a madwoman calling for her lost children her voice reverbeeted through the very ground. And then she was running and Harry's own feet pounded after her. Braches whipped back and wetly slapped him, the heavy smell of copper clinging to everything it touched.
"Wait!" Harry's voice tried to call her back. "Please! I don't understand! I don't understand what you've trying to show me!"
Harry broke through heavy foliage only to stumble into a large clearing, a familiar fortress sitting at the peak of the gentle hill. A few steps away the onyx-eyed girl had fallen to her knees.
"Please…" Harry asked quietly. "Please tell me what I have Seen? Need to See?"
The girl's body trembled. "Death." Monotone she answered. "Death and those that gift it."
"I don't understand your bloody cryptic riddles." Harry snapped with barely a trace of civility.
Onyx-eyes locked onto his. She whispered, her voice broken. "Then See…"
And the world drowned in a cacophony of screams and war cries. Men and women--terror stricken and betrayed. Accusing eyes and the silvery glint of flying blades. His lungs burned, suffocated under the stench of fresh blood. His ears rang; the whimpering cries of children and pleating begs of women fighting to be heard above the other. His eyes ran, life ended and destroyed, ruin spread like a wild disease and ashes in the air the only thing to mark the darkest of deeds. His hearth burned, vengeance, hate, and the soothing lull of insanity griped all that he was.
The girl spoke again, a hard note of the same insanity he'd briefly felt deep in her voice. "Cursed ruin…betrayal begotten…madness sown."
Harry hated to admit he was frightened. The…vision he saw still ghosted along his senses "Why?"
The onyx-eyed girl gave a watery laugh. "Death and betrayal were our reward. Everything…destroyed. But some curses live longer than they should have, some curses consume and consume…"
"It happened. The thing I Saw happened because of betrayal."
"Yes." She answered simply.
"But why are you Showing me this? If it has happened already what is the point?"
She glanced at him with well-worn patience.
"Did you think it was over?" Alien mocking laughter spilled from her pale lips. A voice deeper than hers--possibly male--overlapped her own. "Vengeance paid in full, madness repeated on those that dared claim what was not theirs."
Harry flinched away from the girl. There was something truly mad about that voice and not in the world-domination or lemon-drop-loving sort of madness. There was only all-consuming insanity.
"Where did this happen?" Harry asked more loudly than he wanted.
Onyx-eyes slipped into rationality before flickering toward the silent fortress in the background. "You've seen it already. Dream-scouted alongside the invaders. And hell came for those that dwelt there and the last of the Last fell into madness, the curse bleed into the very ground."
The dream-vision was breaking apart. Colors paled and darkened as the world faded away. But Harry was left there starring forlornly at nothing.
"But what does that mean?"
Her voice whispered once more. "Time is running out…and then death must rise….You must hurry... You don't even know why yet."
S
In daylight Dulcis Alley looked somewhat respectable. One could almost forget the type of things that went on at night.
The Dark Carus Bar was unchanged from the last time he had been there. Even the ageless Artemis took his order with her trademark French-wink (as much as a wink could be French).
Sean and Bast had always eaten lunch at the bar. Both were confirmed bachelors that couldn't boil water on a good day. The lunch hour was half gone and to Harry's growing agitation the cousins hadn't shown up. His only other option if he couldn't get a hold of the cousins would be to find Remus and Harry knew Remus to be entirely too close to Dumbledore.
Harry was very close to laughing giddily when two amber-eyed men entered the bar from the Muggle entrance.
"Oi! Brungle and Brungle!" Harry called out.
"Evan! Been a while. For a while there we thought your great-uncle had off'd you and hidden the body."
"He'll never be as lucky. Sit down; I've been looking for both you."
"Why don't I like the sound of this?" Sean sighed dramatically.
"You probably won't once you hear the rest of it."
Harry flicked his wand inside his full sleeves as he cast the strongest Warding charm he could. Not even Voldemort, had be stood three feet away from them, would be able to hear them.
"I need some help finding a woman or anyone that might be connected to her."
"What makes you think we can help you there? We're not exactly on anyone's 'it' list." Bast asked honestly, his face truly baffled.
"She was a werewolf." Harry said bluntly.
Immediately both men grew guarded looks on their faces. "Evan, mate, this isn't the best time to be investigating werewolves…"
"I know, I know. But this isn't what you think. The woman I'm looking for should be dead by now and the Clan she belonged to is gone but someone told me some survivors merged in with other Clans and I'm looking for anyone that may have known her."
Sean gave him a pensive look. He honestly liked Evan but there was too much at risk to blindly invite him into their Clan stronghold, especially now that every Clan leader had been virtually declared a marked-target by the Ministry.
The cousins traded heavy looks. "We're going to have to know more first and then we're going to have to bring it up with the Clan."
"You'll help me?" Harry asked with no small relief.
Bast gave him an impish smile. "I suppose…if we must."
"Thank you…I'm looking for a woman named Anahid Bairn who belonged to Clan Ilandere. The Clan fell under Grindlewald but I was told survivors merged with the local Clans. She was a painter and I've seen the work she gifted Elder Ladislas that even now hangs in Clan Aknor's England's Manor. What might not be as known is her calling as a Seer. It is my belief that she Saw part of a puzzle I'm investigating."
Harry could virtually feel the cousins' eyebrows climb. Finally Bast gave a low whistle. "Nothing as simple as finding a long-lost relative or jilted love, is it?"
"Not quite."
"What can you tell us about this puzzle?"
Harry spoke carefully. "It has…left people dead and…it's my belief it will do so again."
"Couldn't be anything simple, could it?" Sean complained half-heartily.
"We'll talk to Rolfe and things should go well…but Evan, this had better not be a trick. We're trusting you here with the lives of our Clan if we should get you a meeting."
"I understand."
Bast sighed one last time. "We'll owl you when we have an answer."
"I prefer you didn't." Pulling out a velvet pouch he handed it to them. Inside a glowing crystal shimmered with a waiting spell ready to be released. "Inside there's a crystal that will release a messenger bird when broken. When you have an answer send it. It should be sufficiently harder to track then an owl."
Bast smirked. "How devious…I like it."
S
In the following week Harry stalked around his Muggle hotel. His nerves and thoughts jumped from one second to another. Alternately he wished he had told the werewolf cousins more and hadn't said as much as he did. But there was only so much he could say before he started sounding like a madman if he didn't already.
Christmas passed without a thought; wards raised around his magical signature prevented anyone from contacting him. Thankfully the nuntius already carried his signature within its very makeup and should naturally have a homing beacon on him.
A small shimmering raven arrived near dawn of the sixth day, the full moon disappearing under the rising sun.
Evan MortiferGo to King Cross Station near Platform Eight at five in the afternoon. Bring nothing and tell no one.
Password: The Tower.
…Don't break faith.
Bast Brungle
S
King Cross Station was just as packed as it was whenever Harry would make the trip to Hogwarts. Sternly dressed businessmen tiredly moved on their way home while every once in a while a child's cry rose above the noise to alert haggard parents of their displeasure.
Harry showed up half-an-hour early and loitered near Platform Eight. He kept an eye on anyone that lingered past the train's departure. He couldn't risk being followed and he couldn't afford walking into a situation without knowing as much as he could.
Sean Brungle's tow-head shinned briefly as he passed the bright glare of an overhead light. Shadowing Sean was another man, thin and wiry with dark, shaggy hair. Sean appeared to be calm enough but his companion swiveled his head side to side every once in a while scanning the crowds. The man didn't appear to be looking specifically for anyone, rather he was doing as Harry did and looking for anyone overly interested in him.
Sean caught his eye and nodded once toward his companion. The shaggy man's sharp-planed features seemed to frown when he spotted Harry. Admittedly he didn't look all that…noticeable. In his disguise as Even Mortifer, Harry wore the glamoured image of a boy who couldn't possibly be involved in the things Harry was after.
Brushing blond hair away from his eyes Harry moved to meet them. The two didn't stop as they brushed past Harry and Sean only nudged him to continue walking with them. "Keep walking. The Tower's that way." The werewolf whispered striding forward. Shoving a ticket in his hand Harry glanced at it once before walking just as purposely to their new destination at Platform Four. They only had seconds to board the train as it sped out of London.
Harry allowed them to lead him to a seat of their choice.
"Isn't it a wonderful time of year to go spend the evening out in the country-side?" Sean said cheerfully.
"Marvelous." Harry said dryly.
"Evan this is Ulmer Amaris and he will be out escort this fine evening."
Amaris gave Sean a withering glance but didn't comment, letting his eyes roam and catalogue everyone in their compartment. Moody would approve.
The ride was quiet as they left London behind. The silence broken every once in a while by Sean and Harry as they traded idle comments on the passing scenery.
Neither werewolf announced their stop and Harry merely took it in stride as he followed their lead. Harry almost feared they'd spend the night weaving through the countryside and backtracking as soon as they got anywhere remotely close to their destination.
Sean must have read his face because he laughed lightly. "No worries mate. Won't be long now."
Amaris frowned at the cheerful werewolf. "It would be prudent you didn't talk about such things in public."
Sean rolled his eyes in a well-worn gesture.
The three men walked briskly for some time weaving around people and darkened buildings. The building they finally entered was nondescript and didn't even have the street numbers posted.
Inside a long hallway with darkened offices eventually opened to a wide-open space that must have been a warehouse at one time. In the center of the warehouse a round table was littered with papers and drinks. Around it two men and a woman talked quietly. Harry was not as foolish as to believe there weren't other watchers keeping an eye on him. The trio made no sign that they had heard his approach. From the shadows Bast emerged, his customary greeting subdued as he stared respectfully at the trio.
When the trio finally spoke to him he was almost too distracted to notice.
"You seek knowledge Evan Mortifer." The lone Woman said, her voice rich and heavily accented, wisdom crinkled at the corner of her eyes.
"Your kind has brought us nothing but trouble wizard." Scoffed the younger of the two men, face flickering with remembered anger.
"Peace brother, let us hear the wizard plead his case." Counseled the oldest man, his long gray hair knotted in many braids. "We have already agreed to do as much."
The Younger Man sniffed disdainfully while the Woman laughed throatily. "Only because he did not believe our children would return unharmed and alone with their quarry. Let this meeting begin before the hour draws any longer. Now speak Mortifer and tell us why you seek the council of the wolves."
Harry wasn't sure if he would enjoy demonstrating his insanity to the three very intimidating werewolves. Harry could only sigh helplessly as he did as he was told. "I'm looking for a woman named Anahid Bairn that belonged to the Clan Ilandere before its breaking. She was a painter and a Seer. It is my belief she might have Seen part of a mystery I'm after, one which is going to be fulfilled very soon."
"And what makes you think we can help you?" The Old Man asked coldly.
"I…don't know if you can. All I know is that her remnant Clan members merged with local Clans and if anyone might remember something of Ms. Bairn it will be they."
The trio observed him silently while they communicated via a nod or a glance. Finally the Younger Man bluntly said. "And why should we help you wizard? Why should we offer our resources and help when we'll receive nothing for our trouble?"
Harry was beginning to dislike the youngest Council member. He finally snapped, diplomacy wasn't going anywhere—not with this man anyway. "There's a hell lot of reasons you should but few that you'd find acceptable. Ms. Bairn Saw something that involved the death of a lot of people and it's not over. I've Seen fragments of the vision and it's telling me it's about to run into completion. I'm not that great of a Seer, I can't See more than a few frustrating warnings but they're all telling me time's running out."
To their credit the trio seriously considered Harry's rambling…well they did for all of thirty seconds. The Younger Man gave a loud mocking laugh. "You've wasted enough of our time. What did you hope to accomplish by coming to us with these fanciful tales? I'll think we've listened enough of this."
"Now, now." Chided the Old Woman. "I do believe he's serious."
"Why won't you believe me? What must I do?" Harry nearly pleated, visions of the red-haired girl's frightened face swimmed along his mind.
"What must you do?" repeated the Younger Man, a cruel twist to thin lips. "Bast, call Duncan and bring our guest."
"Mr. Mortifer you've come to us." The Old Man said gravely. "You've asked for names and knowledge held sacred. No matter how easily it may seem to simply give you all we know of your quarry you have not proven your character to us. Even the life of a woman dead these many years cannot be released so easily into a stranger's hands less we set into motion terrible consequences. You were granted this meeting on Sean and Bast's request and they have not guided us wrong as of yet but now you must prove why this meeting should come to fruition."
"You must kill him." The Younger Man sadistically announced.
For a moment Harry wasn't sure what was going on. Near a shadowed alcove three figures approached the center of the warehouse to stand before the Council and Harry. One was the shaggy werewolf Harry remembered as Ulmer Amaris and the other his unknown amber-eyed companion who he vaguely remembered being called Duncan. Between them shackled and gagged was a man wearing the distinct scuffed gray robes of an Auror. Harry didn't know what happened but he had the awful feeling he wasn't going to like it one bit.
For a horrible second he contemplated knowing the Auror being held. That would just make things…harder for him. Thankfully he didn't recognize the Auror as being one of Dumbledore's men. For one there was something entirely too Snape-like about the man, a petty cruelness that was often dismissed and entirely too childlike. It made men useless and Dumbledore had never been a fan of useless people no matter how lax he might be in removing them from office. One eye was swollen shut and a trickle of blood was quickly drying alongside the Auror's pale face.
"Last night when the moon set and our Clan was weak from the transformation a squad of Aurors broke into one of our sanctuaries. Five of our kin perished before the alarm could be sounded. Our guest here eventually…informed us the attack was approved by an unknown top Ministry employee able to circumvent the Department of Law Enforcement thanks to the Minister's sanction. Officially it is a containment mission but I and all my kin know it is revenge on our kind for Fenrir Greyback's deeds. Nine people are dead, Mr. Mortifer, and all we have to show for it is one Auror that was too busy torturing to escape with his brethren." The Old Man explained sorrowfully. "Now we ask, prove your intentions…if you truly want what knowledge we possess them you must be able to fight against any who would misuse it. Kill he who would have done the same had he found Anahid Bairn in their stead. Kill he who would have done the same to whoever you are so desperately trying to save had they been moon-sworn."
"B-But…" Harry stuttered in surprise. He was able to recover his mask quick enough that no one but the Council noticed his lapse.
"Does he deserve mercy?" The youngest of the trio intoned. "Does he deserve life? Why don't you enlighten us of your recent deeds? Amaris take the gag off."
Amaris tore the gag downward and swiftly kicked the Auror's legs from beneath him. The Auror himself was a rather average fellow only distinguished at that time by terrified blue eyes. His eyes flickered from the Council to Harry before locking on his only salvation. "H-Help me! Call the Aurors! Call the Ministry! Please Help me!…Don't let me die here…"
The Younger Man's lips curled in disgust. Following some hidden signal Amaris pulled the gag back in place so not even the Auror's muffled cries could escape.
"That is not what I asked." Chided the Younger Man with a deceptive calmness that didn't quite hide deep malice. "That, Auror, is not what should concern you at this moment."
"Give him death." The Old Woman said with a regal motion of her hand. "Prove you will protect our secrets to death's door. That you honor the lives of our kin as more than animals."
Was it worth it? All he needed to do was kill a man who deserved something entirely more painful. It wasn't all that hard either. A slash of his dagger or even a well placed Reducto if he didn't want to get his hands dirty.
He glanced away from the crying Auror and met the eyes of the Council, unknown to him they read the troubled debate taking place in his mind.
"What rights does he have?" The Old Man asked flatly. "Who will atone for what has been done to our kin? Twenty-year old Gina stabbed with a silver knife; twenty-three year old Amir took a close range Reducto the heart; seventeen-year old Cory's lungs collapsed under Sufies Domos. Those three all died directly under him."
There was an ugly fascination about the Auror once Harry heard his list of crimes. The same black chill he had felt the first time he heard Bellatrix LeStrange drove the Longbottoms mad. Some part of him thought that if he looked hard enough he could see the twisted cruelness that incited cold murder.
Did he have the same callousness? The same inhuman strength?
Harry raised his ash wand, barely hidden power coursing just beneath its surface. His hand didn't tremble but inside his chest his hearth pounded uneasily. In his mind onyx-eyes looked at him in desperation and animal rage.
He blinked and spoke, his voice wavering. "No."
"No." Raged the Younger Man. "Duncan kill the Auror."
Harry didn't look away as the werewolf Duncan whipped out a long rapier and dragged it across the Auror's unprotected neck. He made no motion to help or hinder as ruby drops sprayed the ground in front of the Council. Truthfully he couldn't exactly argue or find fault in the sentence.
"This meeting is over. There is nothing more to discuss." The Old man said as gravely as he had said everything else. "Come along Bast, Sean. It's time to leave."
Harry and the Brungle cousins shared an unreadable glance. Harry knew them to belong to the Clan the Old Man ruled. Why exactly he faced the Council trio Harry could only wonder.
"Come on Duncan." The Younger Man said as he strode forward. "Let's take this chap for a little show and tell."
Harry was not entirely sad to see that particular Clan Elder leave. Now that was a temperamental git.
Harry watched them leave before turning back to face the Old Woman who was leisurely flipping through a Muggle notebook left behind on the neglected table.
"Tell me child, Evan Mortifer isn't your real name, is it?" She asked calmly, the fierceness she had wielded during the Council seemed to have faded somewhat.
He blinked once; the daze he had fallen into hadn't entirely lifted yet. "Eh…no, it isn't."
"You realize the meaning of the name you've taken?"
"Mortifer?" Harry smiled sheepishly. "It was a bit of a joke on my part."
She didn't return the smile. Harry's body tensed; there was something entirely too curious about the Old Woman's eyes. "My name is Chandra Amaris, child, and I once knew a Seer."
Harry remembered all of Aberforth's subtle warnings and the cursed life that was his because he was a Seer.
"She's the only one I've ever met and most people that knew her thought her quite mad. I was a child at the time and before her death she gave me a message to memorize. She told me I would understand it when the time was right. I've never given her words much thought but she frightened me enough I never forgot them either.
"She told me…Master of Masks he would come, Named Death and Dreamer to the Ulrich. Death he heralds, Death he is named, and in Death's ashes does he stand. Given Death to deal he will stand aside.
"You understand how vague that sounds? It could have meant all manner of coincidences and in recent years Death has been a common theme. However for once in her life she wasn't as cryptic as she liked to be. She told me when Death's Warrior came to the Ulrich I would give him his wish. This is the first Ulrich that has met in years—the Council of the local Clan Elders—and although Rolfe and his boys brought you to our attention it was at my request that you were granted an audience. I admit it was your name that caught my attention. It has been a habit of mine to learn the meaning of such things. Evan the warrior and Mortifer the death-bringer. I might be unwise of me to reveal what I know but Rolfe and Adolph have left it to my hands."
"You'll help me?"
The Old Woman—Chandra Amaris—smiled gently. "Yes, if only to honor the Seer I knew. Like I said my name is Chandra Amaris and I am the granddaughter of Anahid Bairn but there is precious little I can tell you for I myself don't know very much. Follow me and I'll show you what I can."
Harry followed her unwilling to believe his luck. Bairn's own granddaughter he thought with bemusement. Chandra and Harry walked toward one of the darkened offices he had passed by initially. Ulmer Amaris, her grandson he thought, opened the door to one such office. The inside was dusty with forgotten years. Most of the room was taken up by an old wood desk and several chairs, some of which were overturned. In one corner an easel held a cloth-covered canvas. Unsurprisingly Chandra pulled the cloth away. The painting was similar to the on Ladislas had. The same forbidding Tower was propped in the distance. The foreground was lost in the shadows of the forest; so dark was the canvas that Harry almost didn't spot the man in the foreground. He stood observing something in the ground, his sword pointing to the same level he was looking at. A serpent, Harry realized.
"This was one of her later works titled The Tower. Anahid once told me a story…about a man who loved a Princess of the Tower and forsook his life for hers. He became as she was and lived as she did her people. But he betrayed them and brought ruin down on those who had taken him in. He was cursed with the foulest of all curses."
"Did she ever mention anything else about the Tower?" Harry asked. There were certainly enough coincidences between his vision and Anahid's tale to be more than a little interested.
"I'm afraid I wouldn't remember…She did name the tower though…She called it Rowsgath."
Rowsgath Tower"Do you know where it might be?"
"I wouldn't know. My Grandmother didn't tell me…Listen closely Mr. Mortifer, I don't know what my grandmother Saw but whatever it was left her a bit unhinged. She did as you did and sought to unravel what she Saw. She never told anyone from Ilandere the results of the investigation but I remember it was vampires who finally answered her questions. I don't know to whom she spoke or what she asked but she came back to us a changed woman. The werewolves of Clan Ilandere cannot help you in that respect, don't search them out. Our way of life relies on secrecy and many would not understand your inquiries." She paused in consideration. "Ilandere is a dead Clan but should you have more questions that I can answer you may call upon the Elder of Clan Tainn."
She bowed her head once before straightening up again. "Now I'm afraid I must be going. My grandson Ulmer will escort you to the train station."
Their silent guard stepped forward and besides wearing a sour expression he obeyed Chandra unquestionably.
"Thank you." Harry called out to the retreating figure.
"My Elder has seen fit to welcome you as friend," the younger Amaris grounded between his teeth. "Then it is only acceptable I do the same. I am Ulmer Amaris of Clan Tainn."
"She really your grandmother?" Harry asked before he could stop himself. He had always thought the reason Remus never had children was because he didn't want to pass on his infection.
"Yes." Amaris said cooly. "I am her blood-grandson and her lychatrophia was passed on to me although that is not always the case."
"What is the difference between one bitten and one born?"
His voice took on a lecturing tone. "We are appropriately called blood werewolves and our minds and bodies can handle the transformation. Those bitten do not carry the full Lycan transformation and as a consequence the moon takes their mind. Those born are trained in the secrets of the moon and learn how to calm the wolf so two minds may coexist…not like the Ministry would make such a distinction."
Harry admitted it, he was a bit stumped. Why wouldn't this information be more widely known? He asked Ulmer as much.
The man scowled bitterly. "Those born come into the Clans and our own separate society. The bitten usually have no such resources and are unwilling to abandon whatever shred of their former life remains. While the Clans may be able to calm the bitten's wolf they will never truly become as us and are loath to stay. It's time we left."
Harry nodded his acceptance. He was certainly learning more about DADA than he ever did at school.
He needed to sleep and recuperate from the night. He also was now one step closer to unraveling his mystery. What curse would be so powerful that it would be spoken with such tread by both the onyx-eyed girl and the Elder Amaris? And why had his coming been foreseen by a woman nearly a century ago?
He had a suspicion the vampires would know and a nasty thought he wouldn't like the answer.
He couldn't help but remember the unknown man in the last painting. Was it truly odd luck that depicted a serpent in the foreground?
It was time he sought Amos out about the mysteries of Rowsgath Tower and a curse that lived on.
S
AN: Took me a while but I finally finished the chapter.
Uhmm…Have fun?
REVIEW!
No Twinkies were harmed in the making of this chapter but a large amount of sugar was consumed.