Disclaimer : Well, as usual, I don't own anything you'll recognize !
A/N : I know…. Long time, but well, here is the chapter, it hasn't been betaed yet. I hope you'll enjoy it. The next one will be out in two weeks.
Naia
Chapter Twenty-Four
Two days later, Harry was regretting having ever agreed to the Masters' presence in the castle. They had taken to roam the corridors, criticizing everything they saw.
Nothing found grace in their eyes: from the architecture of the school, deemed massive and graceless, well representing the inferior human race, the students, qualified of ignorants, noisy whelps, the teachers, judged as failures and fakes, to the ghosts, who they called abominations.
For the moment, Harry was striding down towards the dungeons.
This morning, they had decided to sit on one of the Potion classes held during the summer, despite Snape's none too subtle way to tell them they were not welcome in his territory. Thirty minutes later, a student was seen running to Gryffondor's tower for Harry Potter.
Harry arrived minutes later to find the former Potions' room in a state of disarray that not even Neville's mishaps or the Weasley twins' antics had managed to reach.
Cauldrons were blowned against the walls, on which various potions' ingredients had been splattered. Harry recognized some newt eyes, frog guts, salamender's skin, and other plants, now adorning the stones.
Two tables were scorched down to a pile of ashes, and four others had suffered the consequences of a heavy explosion. A sickly orange goo was spread on the floor, and most of the room.
As he surveyed the damages, Harry took out his wand, casting various cleaning charms to try to get rid of part of this mess.
The students, Hermione among them, something which made Harry realized it had been a session of the Potion group, had been protected by a kind of barrier, no doubt thrown by the former Death-Eaters who was tending to them, sending murderous glances towards the 'guests' which promised a slow and painful agony.
They were standing on the opposite sides, looking a bit shocked to say the least.
Harry rubbed his temples.
"POTTER!" Severus Snape strode towards him. "Be it noted, that I, acting as a member of the teaching staff and Head of house, bar those menaces," he pointed towards the Masters, "access to the laboratory or any rooms used to practice or learn the art of Potions until I say otherwise."
Harry felt a shift in the wards around the room as he nodded his aknowledgement of Snape's decision.
Heads of house had the power to prevent people accessing some rooms if they deemed those persons presented a danger. Such a decision had to be well-founded and witnessed. Professors rarely had to use this right, but from time to time, events would lead one of them to call for this measure.
Harry sighed, his head throbbing with vengeance. Fates had to really hate him right now. An enraged Snape was not a pretty thing that early in the morning.
"What did they do, Professor?"
The blazing eyes turned to him, making him feel eleven again.
"Those dimwits thought themselves above me and thought that adding dragon's blood to the Kyrian Draught, just after gryffin's blood, without stirring, cooling the potion or adding a tampering solution would strengthen it! Not only did they wasted precious ingredients, but they nearly blown us all!"
Harry winced. Even if he wasn't the greatest Potion students, he knew the basics. Arxeren had drilled them in his head for the past year.
Adding blood from a cold-blooded creature, just after some from a warm-blooded one, in particular when the both creatures were magical led to an intense chain-reaction, which if not controlled through a careful stirring or some other means would lead to a violent physical and magical explosion.
Seeing the livid state of the Potion Professor, Harry thought it better to take the masters away, before they found important pieces of their anatomy missing.
He turned towards them.
"Out."
Sneering, they obeyed nonetheless, not before dishing a few scornful comments, targeting Snape's competences. Harry shuddered as he watched the glint shining in his former professor's eyes.
He knew the spy would exact revenge for these insults and seeing the faces of the Slytherins, he knew his house would give full support to their Head, no matter which side they were in this war.
Harry shrugged. He wouldn't intervene. The Masters had brought this on their heads; they would reap what they sow. He would sit quietly back and enjoy the show.
"Potter!"
Harry turned towards his Professor.
"If one of them ever step in this room again without my consent, you'll wish the Dark Lord had killed you when you were a baby."
Knowing better than answering, Harry nodded and left, hearing Snape bark orders to the students in the room.
Resolutely, he started to track the castle's guests, finding them outside, watching from afar as Hagrid taught third year students about Runespoor.
Harry steeled himself as he closed the space between them. Nerthor turned and Harry was a bit surprised to see deep bags under his eyes.
He frowned slightly at this.
"It's you…"
Harry let the scorn slide on him; it had been months since he had let it get to him.
"You must be proud to be the first people to be banned from the Potions' rooms for a century."
Sarwin turned towards him.
"This Snape is an ignoramus! Everyone now that Dragon's blood is a key ingredient for all potions or draught of the fifth level and above. This Kyrian Draught is of tenth level and used to restore magical level!"
"And every first year students knows that mixing blood from cold and warm-blooded animals is one of the biggest mistakes to make."
Sarwin reddened.
"But dragon's blood is neutral; it can't lead to a negative reaction!"
Harry rolled his eyes.
"In case you hadn't noticed, you're in the human world. The Dragon's species present in this world, though magical, don't reach the magical level of those in your world. Their blood is a powerful but volatile ingredient to be handled with care."
Sarwin paled a bit at that and Harry continued.
"Your people know next to nothing of what can be done through potions. You skills with magic make you discard other fields of the magical arts: potions, artefacts…"
Effilin's head snapped towards him.
"Keep your thoughts to yourself. We're stronger than your people could ever dream to be! We don't need things like potions or tools… they're the means of weaklings!"
Harry rolled his eyes, was there any point in talking to them… they were far too blinded to even try to see beyond their preconceptions.
"Very well, in that case, I will leave you to your devices, don't call for me anymore."
He stalked back to the castle.
During the weeks that followed, he remained true to his word. He didn't do anything when a thestral nearly mauled Lienhor, when Edevia fell in a Devil Snare or when Sarwin dared to challenge Dumbledore to duel, now, this had been an enjoyable sight.
He was however surprised to find Nerthor waiting for him outside the Gryffondor's common room one morning when he came back from his training.
"Master Nerthor," he said, neutrally.
"Athar," replied Nerthor.
This unsettled Harry. Never had one of the masters acknowledged his rank among the rider's hierarchy. He frowned.
There was a silence as both of them eyed the other, trying to guess his thoughts.
"Why are you here?" finally asked Harry. He didn't want to miss breakfast and he still had to take a shower and get ready. Nerthor looked even worse than the days before. His face was pale and emaciated with large bags under his eyes. His hands were trembling slightly and he seemed completely exhausted.
The Master seemed to be fighting an internal battle.
On one hand, his pride seemed to be reeling at the idea of lowering himself to ask Harry for something, but on the other hand, he seemed to need an answer.
Finally his need won, since he started to speak.
"What do you know about the building of this school?"
Harry blinked. Whatever he had been waiting for, an history lesson had definitively not been high on his list of probabilities.
"Could you be more specific?"
Nerthor's lips thinned and a rosy tint spread on his cheek.
"Is there any wards which were placed on this school concerning mental abilities?"
Harry's brow furrowed. Where was he going? He hadn't had any problems with his own abilities, neither had Teneb.
"Nothing that I'm aware of."
"Really, are you sure, or his your memory too short to remember something about it?"
Harry felt a surge of annoyance at this.
"Why are you asking me this? I don't have time right now!"
Nerthor seemed to bit back a retort and took a deep breath.
"Because, you stupid human, none of my shields are holding! Since we arrived, they haven't stopped crashing down! I'm always overwhelmed by the ininteressant, idiotic thoughts of the inhabitants of this castle! Days and nights!"
The Air Elemental seemed about to have a break down. So it must be true… but then why he or Teneb or any of the others had not been affected.
Well, the scholars and the other masters had only their natural empathy and telepathy, so their natural, instinctive shields were enough to protect them, those couldn't be brought down. The masters, even if they had been trained in this field while they were Daryns, had not used those abilities afterwards, thus losing the sensibilities one could developp after a long daily use of them. But in Nerthor's, Teneb's and his own case, they had been trained in the mental arts and were using those skills; so why had he been the only one affected?
"Is it the only thing happening?"
Nerthor bit his lips, hesitating.
"Well? Is it?" Harry was geeting impatient. He took a look at his watch, only fifteen minutes left!
The Mind master grimaced.
"There this feeling of being probed each times my shields fell… I raise them immediately up, but it's still there… And I feel like I'm always being watched…"
Harry stared at him.
"I'm not going mad!" he shouted, mistaking the Athar's expression which morphed to a cold detached look.
"I was not thinking anything of the sort. As to your predicament, you only brought it upon yourself… I'm tempted to let you deal with it."
Nerthor shot him an angry look, opening his mouth to protest, but Harry cut him.
"But that would lower me to your level."
The young wizard paused.
"This school was founded centuries ago. Generations and generations of wizards and witches succeeded to each other in these walls. Magic was performed daily, magical wars took place on its grounds. All that magic penetrated every stones of the school, accumulating in its walls, saturating it."
"In a way, you can say that Hogwarts is nearly sentient… Not in the litteral sense, it's not a living, thinking entity. But it's so attuned to magic that it can sense things, to simplify it."
The older rider frowned.
"What is this non-sense?"
Harry dismissed his words.
"Believe me or not, that's not my problem. This probing you felt must be the school wards trying to read you, so to speak. The others don't have their shields up all the times, so they didn't feel it. Being more sensitive to mind touches, you couldn't miss it…"
Nerthor sneered.
"So, what can I do to stop this bunch of bricks to stop messing with MY mind?"
"Don't fight the probe. Once Hogwarts will have found you mean no harm to the school, it will stop. But as long as you'll be thinking ill of the people living here, the wards won't stop watching you. They felt your animosity, probably from your aura, so they deemed you a potential threat to the safety of the school."
Nerthor's sneer amplified.
"Rubbish! A pack of fairytales!"
He whirled on his heels and stormed away. Shaking his head, Harry spoke the passwords and hurried towards the bathroom.
They would never learn.
ooooooooooooooooo
While the Masters were having a hard time integrating themselves in the school's routine, the scholars had had less problems.
Having clearly defined aims, they spent their days locked in the library, looking over old, rotting manuscripts, others that were to be handled with the most delicate hands since they tended to fell to dust at the smallest wrong move. Even charms couldn't really help it.
The scholars were working along with the research teams that had already been researching the ritual. They had brought a few archives with them, but didn't share them.
They managed to cooperate well enough with the human teams by keeping their interaction to a minimum and were strictly professional. As soon as they were done with their day's work, they left to their rooms and stayed there for the evening and night, only coming out to head towards the Library once more.
He had heard no complaints about them since they had arrived, something for which he was grateful, he had enough to do with the Masters.
That's why he was quite surprised to see the four Elementals part of the group walk to him.
He frowned a bit, something he had done quite a lot lately. He was sure he'll get premature wrinkles if this kept up like this.
The four scholars stopped within a safe distance from him, something which made him raise his brows. Was he that scary?
"Athar," said the older one, Helion, a Water Elemental.
Harry bowed his head slightly.
"My colleagues and myself would like to talk with you, in private preferably."
Harry's frown deepened. He was definitively entering the twilight zone here… He nodded nonetheless, curious, then guided them towards the room of requirement.
He didn't know a room in this castle that was completely warded from any spying device or devoid of paintings…. But the Room of requirement would provide it for him.
Passing in front of the entrance, he then opened the door, motioning to the four others to follow him.
The room was bare: a large table and five chairs, naked walls, nothing more.
Wordlessly, Harry sat and waited for them to speak.
They looked uneasily around them, before whispering slightly.
Harry started to drum his fingers on the wooden surface of the table, getting impatient.
Either the drumming got on their nerves or they finally decided to say whatever they had to, but Helion spoke up.
"I know your race is not known for your thinking abilities, Athar, but I think that such behaviour is not only careless and foolish but also dangerous."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Harry's eyes grew cold.
"It would help, Helion of the Elementals, if I knew what you are talking about?" The threat was audible in his voice.
The Elementals seemed stunned at this answer.
"You…. You don't know…" This time, it had been the female Fire Elemental who had spoken. "You really don't?"
Harry growled.
"Could you get to the point?" There was no mistaking the flame wavering in the back of his eyes….
Helion eyed him.
"No, you don't know. That much is true." He took a deep breath. "It's hard for us to say this, Athar. Thorough the past weeks, we suffered from unexpected burst of Elemental power. We investigated a little and to our horror," his voice got louder, "we noticed that we had been living around completely untrained Elemental gifted!"
Harry showed no visible surprise, even if this came to him as a shock. Helion didn't stop.
"How can your elders and teachers be thoughtless enough to gather youngsters of opposed elements without giving them the slightest training or grasp over their abilities? But then, adults are also part of those gifted… The raw energies are merging, clashing with the others, all the time! Some managed to tune them off, somehow, others repressed them by sheer willpower."
He would have carried on, but Harry raised his hand, asking for his silence.
"And, pray tell, what should we have done?"
His tone was calm, reasonable, something which didn't fare well for the future.
The Air-Elemental nearly shot out of his chair.
"What are you saying?! Your people should have noticed their gift and trained them from that moment!"
"And how," Harry cut the man, "would we have done this?" Harry was seething.
The Elemental threw his hands in the air.
"By any means you wanted! Through schooling, apprenticeship, tutoring! You can't be that stupid to leave people like them going around like this!"
Harry stood up, his hands slamming on the table, echoing on the bare stone walls.
"And, tell me, Elemental, who would have trained them?" he asked in a whisper. He continued: "There haven't been human Elemental masters or mistresses for millennia and no records of their skills, so, tell me, how?"
Silence met his question.
Sneering, he shook his head, and stormed out of the room, not bothering to listen to the four scholars who starred at his departing back, before starting to speak between themselves in hushed and indignant tones for some of them.
Meanwhile, Harry was trying to calm himself and decided that a trip to the kitchen would be the best way. Dobby always managed to cheer him up.
He tickled the pear and stepped in the passageway. He finally entered the kitchen and took a few steps back.
The room had been expanded to five times its former size, and there were at least three or four times more house-elves busying themselves around.
Eyes bulging, Harry took and other step back, to allow a flock of those little creatures to pass by him, large plates in their arms.
Some were stirring cauldrons, other chopping various kind of meats or peelings vegetables and potatoes. Others were arranging fruits, baking cakes…
The Kitchen was bustling with noise.
"HARRY POTTER!"
Suddenly, Harry was nearly bowled over by a hysterical house-elf.
"Harry Potter, Sir! Dobby knew you weren't dead, sir! Dobby knew! And Harry Potter came to see Dobby! Dobby is so honoured!" Dobby was speaking in an interrupted stream of word, interrupted by squeaks.
Once he managed to string all these words together to form sentences, Harry smiled at his small friend, even if said friend had tried to kill him, or at least seriously maim him in the past.
"Hello Dobby, I missed you…"
The little being burst into tears at this, muttering about how great Harry Potter was.
Patting his head awkwardly, Harry tried to relinquish his grips on his leg, if only to allow his blood to circulate.
"There, there, Dobby, how come there're so many of house-elves?"
Dobby pulled away.
"House-elves from Beauxbatons and families came to help at Hogwart, Harry Potter, sir. There're a lot of people to feed and new rooms to clean, now. House-elves are taking care of food and the castle… But it's getting difficult to get fresh food for everyone… House-elves have to travel a lot…. But we are doing our jobs well, sir."
Harry nodded.
He had never wondered where the food came from, apparently it didn't appear on his plate by magic… well it did in a way, but not really….
"I'm sure you all do your job well Dobby. Now, could I have an apple?"
The little creature nodded enthusiastically and seconds later, Harry found himself holding a plate filled with apples.
Thanking the house-elves, Harry went back to his room, intending to relax for an hour before reading the reports Albus had gave him yesterday, after the Order's meeting. On his way, he passed before the Delacour's doors. The family was currently out at the moment, having deemed it necessary to bring Najira to a Veela community, her problems being too much for them to deal with alone. The part-Veela's attitude had done nothing to help.
He remembered the last fight which had taken place between the bastard princess and the Delacours, Fleur in particular. The whole thing had happened a week ago…
Flashback
It had been a two weeks since Najira's arrival. The young princess had behaved quite well for the first one, but then things had started to go downhill.
At first it had been small things: her clothes were too simple, she was used to be assisted a lot and was finding it difficult to cater to her own needs.
She had also managed to alienate Fleur.
She and the two Delacours' girls had got on quite well. But then Najira had decided to make Gabrielle her maid. At first the younger girl had complied to her demands since they had been reasonnable: fetch some food, a book, help her do her hair. It had helped that Gabrielle was in awe of Najira.
Harry could see why. Even though Gabrielle was older now, she was still a bit childlish and had been extremely protected by her sister and her parents. To her eyes, Najira was a real princess, and so some of her excesses could be excused.
However when Najira had ordered her to clean her rooms and to help her get dressed, it had been the last straw for Gabrielle who had grown a bit weary of the blonde's demands. She refused, angering the part-elf.
After some shouting, promises, threats, Gabrielle still wouldn't comply. Angered at this, Najira slapped her, as she would have done at Horevald.
The problem was that Fleur happened to enter the room then, wanting to know what the shouting was about.
Seeing her sister get struck made her snap. Not waiting for an explanation, she stalked towards Najira and slapped her as hard as possible, telling Gabrielle to leave the room.
She then started to invectivate Najira. Drawing a crowd at the door she had let open slightly.
That was how Harry noticed something was wrong.
Students from upper years were gathered before Najira's door, some cheering, sone betting, others commenting or just watching what was happening.
Eyebrows raised, Harry had made his way to the door and stopped in the entranceway, shocked.
Fleur and Najira had moved from insults to curse and nails. Their hair was in disarray, their clothes a bit ripped, a few scratches and bruises on their arms and faces.
Harry slammed the door behind him, ignoring the groans from the students at the loss of the fight.
Despite this, none of them were alerted of his arrival.
Finally, deciding to step in before the things got too bad, he cast petrifying charms at them, thus ending the confrontation.
The two young women turned to him.
"What do you think your doing?" he yelled.
They started to speak at the same time, their voice hoarse, pointing at each other.
"Silence!"
They quietened.
"Fleur, what happened?"
"She hit Gabrielle! I saw her slap my sister!"
Harry narrowed his eyes and shot a dark look at Najira who had the grace to look down.
"And then?"
"I slapped her and it started from there."
Fleur was outraged. Harry could understand why… but her veela side was making her over react too. He raised his eyes to the sky, sighing.
"Fleur, please, could you go see if Gabrielle is alright. I'll deal with this."
The French girl nodded and left the room.
"Athar…"
Harry whirled on his heels.
"Najira," his voice was cold, as were his eyes, boring into her.
"It was Gabrielle's fault! She refused to clean my room and do my hair!"
The temperature in the room dropped.
"Is that why you slapped her?"
Najira nodded, starting to get uncomfortable.
"Then I wonder if you're worth our efforts."
At these words, Najira's face paled, her eyes watering.
"Athar… but she…"
"She has no obligations towards you! You should have been thankful: the Delacours welcomed you, their daughters did everything to help you settle in, and what did you do? You hit Gabrielle the moment she refused, with good reason, to comply to one of your orders!"
"But…"
"There's no but, Najira! You're not a princess here, you're a guest! So stop acting like everyone owe you something! You'll apologize to Gabrielle and Fleur today, I'll be sure to check you do."
"What about Fleur? She hit me!"
"She defended her sister, I see no problems with this."
Harry looked down at her. Even in this state she still had a certain allure… It made him wanting to…
Realizing what was happening, Harry strengthened his shields. He knew the Delacours had lessened the blocks on the part-elf since she seemed to fare well under their tutoring.
He glared at her with an intensity which would have been up to par with Snape's best performance.
"Never, ever try this again, I thought you knew better!"
Najira looked distraught at this.
"Athar,… wait, I'm so-sorry, I didn't want to…. I'm sorry…."
She fell to his feet, the picture of desolation.
Harry roughly pulled her to her feet.
"Stop that, you don't really mean it, Najira, you and I both know it. So when you'll really want to apologize, I'll accept it. Meanwhile you'll still have to make amends for your behavior towards Fleur and Gabrielle."
With that, he left her, hearing the door slam behind him but not bothered by it. He didn't see Najira trash her whole room, shattering everything she laid her hands upon, throwing it at the walls, on the grounds, before slumping in the middle of the rooms, among pieces of glass, sobbing until exhaustion took over her and she fell asleep.
She had apologized at dinner before the whole school and fortunately Gabrielle had forgiven her, even if Fleur hadn't really.
During the following week, Najira had been the perfect picture of obedience. And Fleur had started to relent on her grudge.
This however didn't last.
Two weeks after the fight, she came, storming into Gryffondor common rooms.
"Harry, I'd like to have a word with you,' she said in a strained voice, ignoring the usual lovesick glances sent her way by most of the males present.
Puzzled, Harry stood up and was all but dragged towards Najira's room. Realizing this, he nearly gave in the urge to bang his head on the nearest wall.
Fleur snarled the password to the set of rooms and pushed Harry inside.
He froze at the sight.
Najira was lounging on the bed, one student, a Hufflepuff Sixth year, massaging her shoulders. Another, a Ravenclaw was working at the desk, writing furiously. Harry was pushed to the sides as a Gryffondor and a Slytherin ran in the room carrying a basket filled with cakes, fruits and sweets.
Disgust filled him.
At that moment, Najira looked up.
Harry nearly took a step back.
Her eyes still had that uncommon shades of violet but seemed covered by a white veil, as they had been when she…
He tried to dispell the pictures which came to his mind.
It seemed that seeing him had an effect on the part-Veela. She shook her head and horror spread on her features. She scrambled to her feet, oblivious to the surprised looks of the four students in the room. She shouted for them to get out.
Bewildered, they obeyed nonetheless, still under the thrall of the Veela's attraction.
"Athar, I was…"
Harry raised his hand, cutting her.
"I saw everything I needed to see."
"You don't understand, I..."
Harry didn't want to hear her excuses again, not now… He turned to face Fleur.
"I'll speak to your parents, treat her as you would your sister, had she done that."
Deaf to Najira's pleas, demands he listened to her, apologies, he walked out, heading to the Delacours' rooms.
The talk was a hard one. Fleur's parents had lowered her blocks a bit, to make her used to her powers little by little, training her at the same time to contain her thrall, or to use it. They had thought her to be able to handle this little part of her original power.
But after a few weeks deprived of her abilities, she had seemed to be overwhelmed, even if she had appeared to fare well at first.
It was decided she would accompany them to a Veela community, in France. And she would stay there as long as it would be deemed needed for her to control her urges.
He walked back to Najira, steeling himself for the confrontation.
As he opened the door, his eyes were met with the sight of a trashed room, Najira lying in the middle, hair in disarray and tear stains on her cheeks.
He sighed. It wasn't fair either on her or him. She was not the only one to blame for this mess, but it was so difficult for him to remain objective…
With a wave of his hand, the room was back to his original state. Bending, he picked her up and carried her to her bed. Gently he laid her on it, putting a blanket on her.
He would let her rest, she would leave tomorrow.
End of the Flasback
She had left, after much pleading, begging, threatening, she had complied. She left, crying, making Harry feel extremely bad about it. But she was too much of a danger at that moment.
He sighed; well, he would deal with this later.
He managed to reach his room and for once had a quiet day…. something which had become a rarity.
ooooooooooooooooo
Between the Masters, the researches going on about Voldemort's ritual, his training, Harry also helped reinforcing the wards on several key places, as well as catching up with the things he had missed while away, under Hermione's tutoring, July literally flew by.
Voldemort had been extremely quiet, something which had been worrying the Order a lot. Snape had been convoked a few times, but didn't managed to find anything… A whole new area had been added to the Dark Lord's fortress, but for what purpose, none of their spies knew.
Speaking of Snape, he should be returning from his latest meeting in a few minutes, and Harry had been told to go wait for him at the edge of the anti-apparition ward, in case he needed medical attention. Though not that great, his healing skills had been deemed enough by Mrs Pomfrey who was currently away, having been called at the new resistance headquarters, it seemed several wizard had fallen victims to some kinds of drug and there weren't enough healers there to care for everything.
Fortunately it was nightfall, or Harry would have been roasting under the sun. He paced, waiting for his former professor to apparate.
A soft pop warned him of his arival, but he couldn't stop himself from drawing his wand.
"Stop with the dramatics, Potter, I'm definitively not in the mood for this," snapped the sour man.
Harry didn't replied and walked back to the castle. Snape didn't seem injured and if he felt well enough to insult him, then he must be indeed ok. A nice Snape would have had him worried.
As they climbed the stairs up the castle entrance, the Potion teacher turned to Harry.
"Oh, Potter, Detention tonight at eight for drawing your wand at a teacher."
Rolling his eyes, Harry shook his head.
"Yes, sir."
Nodding briskily, the man strode away, his robes billowing around him, but not able to prevent himself from limping slightly.
Harry felt a bit of concern for him, but quickly squashed the thought, after all, Snape was a grown-up wizard, and a Potion master, he could take care of himself.
The day passed slowly, Harry spent it with Hermione, Ron, Padma, Zabini and Justin.
They went over the training of the junior Order, and on their action.
In case of an attack on the school, the Order was responsible for the students' security. Escape's routes had been made, thanks to the marauders' map. Safe rooms had been readied, and booby traps laid thorough the school, dormant for now, but they could be activated with a simple command.
Every students knew who to follow if the bells should ring.
Harry stayed mostly silent as they showed him their plans. He made a few suggestions here and there, but didn't comment much. His mind was a bit elsewhere.
Voldemort's silence was foreboding, he had tried to use his connections, but he had had no visions for the last weeks, and the Dark Lord had erected strong barriers around his mind. Somehow, those barriers seemed unnatural. It was a strange feeling, but as he had tried to slip through them, he had barely avoided being trapped in them. No barriers acted like that. Not even Arxeren had been able to explain this.
Something else weighed on his mind. Teneb had told him that Celen and Valera were encountering more and more opposition, back at Horevald. Even with the Dragons' support, they barely could enforce their decisions. Teneb spent most of his days reading reports about his homeworld from his father and his friend and communicating with them. Harry had started to help him through his mass of papers, classifying them, trying to find solutions to a problem he knew deep down had none.
As he pondered on his blood brother's dilema, he missed the strange looks Hermione kept sending him, as well as the calculative glint in Zabini's eyes or the darkening of Ron's glance.
Dinner was a quiet affair, at Gryffondor's table. Harry ate with Teneb, quietly discussing the recent developments in the Elfish world. They carried on this conversation until it was time for Harry to leave for the dungeons.
At eight, Harry was knocking on the door of the Potion's classroom.
Snape opened it but to Harry's surprise, he exited the room and closed it behind him, locking it with various charms and placing a few alarms on it.
With a sharp motion of his hand, he indicated Harry to follow him.
They went down the corridor and stopped before the painting of a forest.
"Sherbet lemon"
Harry blinked. Sherbet lemon. Snape was using the name of a sweet as his password? Hadn't he been in front of his teacher, he would have pinched himself to be sure he wasn't dreaming. But dream Snape or not, you did not do so in front of the Potion professor.
He followed him inside, trying to not be too conspicuous in his assessment of the man's rooms.
The rooms were quite different from the vampire's hole he was rumoured to live in: a large desk with a comfortable looking chair in front of a large fireplace, no couch, but two armchairs, one looking considerably newer than the other, though it might be due to the lack of visitors then to a later acquisition. The walls were stone ones, with a few paintings and several shelves supporting a large stack of books neatly organized.
Snape muttered a few words and the light brightened, making Harry more acute to the lack of colors. Sure there was the wood, but other than that, nothing… except the Slytherin banner pinned above the mantle of the fireplace.
"Is your curiosity satisfied?" The voice was snappish. "Yes? Then move in, Potter, I have better things than dealing with dunderheads at night!"
Wordlessly, Harry obeyed.
Standing in the middle of the room, he tried to figure what was the safest course of action. Sit in the armchair? Too bold. Sitting in the chair by the desk was a definite no, it wouldn't have changed a thing to have it labelled property of Severus Snape. He wasn't crazy enough to sit on the desk and leaning on the walls was too casual. So what?
Deep inside, he knew that no matter what, it would be the wrong thing to do. Furrowing his brows, he glanced once again around the room, trying to solve his dilemma.
Well he didn't have to wonder for a long time as the older man waved his wand, conjuring a chair as he started pacing through the room.
Harry eyed the piece of furniture, then shot a look at Snape who didn't look like he was about to sit anytime soon.
Sit or not?
Sitting would mean putting himself at a lower level, giving Snape the advantage. Not sitting would be disregarding a teacher's order.
Finally he chose to sit, no need in exasperating the man further. He didn't miss the small glance sent his way, nor the calculating glint in the Slytherin's eyes.
"Done, Mr. Potter?"
Harry didn't even bother to answer.
"Now, you'll be organizing all my files: I want you to order them by alphabetical order and gather those of close-related subjects together. Your detention will end as soon as you're done. Now, I don't want to hear one more idiotic comment from you or you'll find yourself cleaning the Owlery with a toothbrush."
Snape ruffled through the papers then handed one to Harry.
The young wizard was starring incredulously at him, his hand poised in the air. He took it, automatically and read the words written in Snape's characteristic penmanship.
Potter,
For once in your life, follow my orders and for god's sake don't speak a word until I say so.
You're going to drink the whole content of the vial on the table, the bright red one. This is a voice changing potion, whose effects you should now, as well as the side-effects; this is to say if you pay a modicum of attention in my class during the past years…
Harry rolled his eyes, picturing the sneer what was nearly printed with the words.
But, since focus and memory were always Miss Grange's forte, I should remind you of them. This potion will alter your voice, in this case giving you the voice of Mr. Eddy Travers, a sixth year Hufflepuff. The potion will last for an hour and you'll probably suffer from mild dizziness and a sore throat for the rest of the evening. The sore throat will last longer.
This is necessary to trick the spying device of the Dark lord, so refrain from your usual stubborness and drink the potion.
Straight to the point, one could never accuse Snape of being wordy…
Harry gulped down the vial's contents, trying not to show his repulsion at the horrible taste. The potion slid down his throat and he felt it start to burn and itch. Gritting his teeth he waited as the feeling dulled and faded to a mild throbbing.
Harry opened his mouth and barely refrained from squeaking when his voice came out quite high-pitched. And Eddy Travers was a sixth year! Even his own voice had started to break and was certainly deeper than this!
He glared at the potion Master who was wearing a smug look.
"Yes Mr. Travers? Are you done with the cauldrons?"
Refraining from snarling at the man, Harry choked out his answer.
"Yes, Professor."
The Dark-haired man seemed to concentrate on something then nodded.
"The thing is deactivated. We can speak until your potion wear out."
Harry raised an eyebrow, confused. What had him speaking like a twelve-year old to do with the spying thing Voldemort placed in his Death Eater?
"It's keyed to determined voices: yours, your friends, Dumbledore's, several known members of the Light fighting forces," Snape snapped, as if talking to an annoying child.
Harry nodded.
"What did you want to talk about, sir?"
"What is going on Potter? "
Harry tilted his head.
"What do you mean by that, sir?"
A vein throbbed on the side of Snape's neck.
"Who are those frauds? What are they doing here? Under what rules are they staying here?..."
Harry repressed a smile.
"These frauds are masters in their craft, coming from the Dragonriders' Headquarters. They were ordered to stay here until they changed their view on humans. The rules are the same for all of those living here."
Severus Snape sighed, rubbing his temples.
"What happened to the Golden-Boy, Potter?"
"He grew up."
"This remains to be seen. What training did you underwent? The Headmaster asked me to tutor in the areas where you could be… lacking."
"Why…" Harry closed his mouth, rethinking his question.
"…Was I the one chosen to do so when I'm a recording machine for the Dark Lord?" sneered the Potion Master.
"Yes, sir."
"Not out of any willingness on my part, Potter. But I happen to be well versed in a few obscure branches of magic… Branches of magic you need to master if you hope to survive this war… I assure you that your Gryffindor luck or your Potter abilities to escape any punishment for your rash actions won't give you the victory."
Harry stayed wisely silent.
"Legilimens!"
Immediately, Harry felt something probing through his mind.
At first, he was tempted to let him do so, no use displaying what he knew.
However, he froze when he realized the probe was directed at his worst moments. A memory started to come to the surface of his mind. It was Christmas' time and he was standing on a cliff, a blade placed against his wrist…
With a powerful shove, he pushed the teacher out of his head, shaking from having to relive this day.
He opened his eyes, which he didn't remember closing and saw Snape bringing himself on his feet, a few meters away from him.
Before Harry could react, the man had reached his side and uncovered his left wrist, starring at the crescent shaped scars, not missing those due to Garth's actions.
Looking up, Harry met blank black eyes which regarded him as a new potion he would not mind trying to make.
"Mr. Potter…"
Harry tensed, he didn't want to talk about that, not now, not later, not ever. Teneb knew, his family too, the masters knew, Celen and Demenor knew, too many people were already aware of this.
"…What went through your foolish mind to pull a stunt like this?"
Harry's head snapped up and he starred incredulously into his professor's face. Shaking his head, he started to mutter.
"You don't understand, you never will…"
After saying those words, he stood up and ignoring Snape's order to come back, he walked out of the room, head held high.
ooooooooooooooooo
The next day, Harry was extremely snappish. He nearly cursed Effilin to the other end of the Forest as the master shot him his usual comments at breakfast.
He had slept very little that night, the memory coming to his mind everytime he closed his eyes. In the end he had gone to Teneb's room to seek some comfort from his brother. The elf had been helpful. After some grumbling, he had sat with Harry and the two of them had talked, played some chess until exhaustion caught up with them. Harry woke up at dawn, followed closely by Teneb, both had become so used to their routine that, unless they were ill or seriously injured or drained, they would always wake up at this time of the day. They had gone to the edge of the Forest to train, but even the workout hadn't been able to soothe his messed emotions.
The looks Snape kept sending him thorough the meals didn't help and he had to go ride Shadow for a good hour to relieve some stress. Lucky followed them a bit but decided to explore a bit as Harry urged Shadows to full speed.
The ride did him some good as he managed to go through dinner in slightly better spirit. Given his attitude at breakfast, most of the students had gone out of his way, only Teneb had stayed with him and remained by his side at dinner.
Dessert was being served when two Aurors burst through the doors. They walked to Dumbledore and started to speak with him in hushed tones.
Harry watched as the headmaster's eyes grew ice-cold. He nodded sharply then turned to McGonagall.
A few minutes later, he left the Hall amidst the whispers of the remaining students, Flitwick and Vector behind him, as well as the two Aurors.
McGonagall rose to her feet and asked for silence.
"All students are to go to their rooms and stay there until a teacher come. Adults will be asked to patrol the corridors and guard the entrances."
Harry felt himself grow cold.
What about him?
He was soon one of the last ones to remain behind as the student walked in a quite orderly fashion. Teneb was still at his side, and he could feel him using some of his natural empathy to cool his anger.
"Mr. Potter?"
Harry turned towards his former Head of House who was standing by the doors of the Hall.
"Come on, we have to put you and your peers safely in your rooms until the fights are over."
Teneb tensed at his side and he felt himself reacting in the same.
"Professor…"
"Mr. Potter!" she snapped "Don't make me repeat myself, the headmaster gave me strict orders to keep all the students safe. So follow the members of the Junior Order to the safe rooms and obey them. They know the drills and won't endanger others. We don't have time for childish behaviour."
Teneb winced at these words, but could barely refrain himself from grimacing when he spotted the masters smirking at Harry. By the look of it, Harry had also seen them.
Who this woman thought they were? Children? Scared kids? They had trained intensively for one year. They had earned their names and titles!
Regally, the elf drew himself to his full height, his mark shining on his temple. He could feel Harry's fire running low around his friend. But suddenly, it disappeared.
He looked at his blood-brother, only to see stony eyes meeting the woman's. None of them spoke, but she was the first to look away.
"I see," whispered the young wizard.
He left through the doors, not sparing a glance to his old teacher who followed him with a worried glance.
"Go back to playing the little soldier, Kid. Leave the real fighting to your better!" laughed Sarwin.
Harry stopped before resuming his walk up a flight of stairs. Teneb followed him, slowing just slightly before the Transfiguration teacher.
"I hope you realize what you did," he whispered. She gave him a stern look, pointing to the door. A startled yelp made him turn as he was about to exit the room ; he smiled as he caught sight of Sarwin trying to stuff out the blue flames running on the hem of his pants.
He caught up with Harry as the young man strode down a long corridor, none of them spoke, they didn't need to.
Soon, they arrived in a girl bathroom.
Bewildered, Teneb looked around. He had already seen that…. But where? Suddenly he heard a soft hissing and a memory of Harry came back to his mind. A Giant snake, a diary, a sword….
"The Chamber of Secrets?" he said, surprised.
Harry only nodded before jumping in the hole which had appeared where the lavoratory had stood. Casting a small repellent charm on his clothes, Teneb slided after him, catching a glint of a translucent face hovering above a toilet seat and peering at him intensively.
After what seems like hours, he stumbled on the grounds, hearing the scrunches of bones under him as he rolled back to his feat.
"Scourgify," said Harry.
Instantly the room was cleaned: centuries of dirst swept away. The bones still remained though, but there were thoroughly cleaned bones.
The two friends headed to the doors of the chambers, and once again, Harry gave the password. Finally they were walking done Salazar Slytherin's room. The Basilisk's body was still here, as it had been only a few hours since its death.
Teneb eyed the massive monster and whistled.
"You killed that thing?!"
"I was lucky," answere Harry, tersely. "Teneb, would you mind sparring?"
Feeling the power still bubling in his blood brother, the lef nodded.
"Anytime." He summoned his sword to him and raised it, powering it slowly, not to overload the stone. Harry mimicked his action and soon the two friends were caught in deadly dance.
The blades weren't dulled, neither were their curses. If one of them was to do a mistake, it could end badly for both of them, but that was part of the game: the thrill of the adrenaline pumping through your veins, pushing you to your limit.
Their sparring came to a stalemate twenty minutes later, both of them having raised their blades to the other's neck.
They were panting heavily, having skipped their usual warm up exercices and pulled violent moves. Harry let himself slumped to the floor.
"Never again. I'll not be a pawn in this game: too young to fight, but old enough to be expected to off Voldemort…. They'll have to make up their mind."
"You'll have to deal with the riders… If this happens again, they could ask for the removal of your title and your dismissal from our ranks."
Harry nodded. He knew the rules.
"I will, now what about a bit of cleaning. This place sure could use it…"
They set to work and it was well past midnight when they stopped. They had dealt with the Snake's corpse, having harvested the useful parts and getting rid of the rest. They had then repaired the damages Harry had made to the Chamber during his last visit. Then they even had started on cleaning centuries worth of dust, dirt and grim.
They drew on their elements to land straight into Teneb's rooms, waking up a sleeping Lucky.
The fox had taken on resting in the elf's quarters after Seamus hit him by accident with a bouncing hex. Since then he was rarely seen in the Gryffondor's tower.
"Did you feel the wards?" asked Teneb.
"A bit, but they let us slide… Wonder why… Technically we should not be able to do elemental travel in the school."
Teneb shrugged. The magic surrounding this school was quite old, even in Elvish standings. But the odd thing was that it shouldn't be so… After all it had been created about a millennia ago, but the feeling was so ancient it did not matched this. Anyway, he didn't want to try to delve in the intricacies of this type of power. He was powerful, but not that much. Handling this kind of energies would burn him to the core, leaving him magicless for the remaining part of his life. Not something he really wanted…
"Let's rest, tomorrow should prove to be eventful."
Harry nodded gravely.
"True… Can I sleep in your rooms, I don't want to go to the tower tonight."
"No problem."
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
ooooooooooooooooo
The morning came too soon for Harry's taste. As usual, both Teneb and him went outside for their work-out. They took their horses for a quick walk around the lake, stopping at Hagrid's hut. The half-giant was absent for now. Dumbledore had sent him on one of his mission during the past month and he hadn't been back since then.
"What do you think will happen?..."
"No idea… But there's only one way to find out…" with that the wizard stepped in the Hall. Silence followed him as he made his way to the Gryffindor table, Teneb shadowing him.
The headmaster was back and currently conferencing with the DADA teachers from the different schools. McGonagall leaned on him, whispering in his ear, her eyes set on Harry with a disapproving look in them. Harry found himself not caring.
As breakfast passed, the young man started to hope that his worries might not be justified. However that thought was quickly thrown out of the window as the guests of the castle marched in the Hall. A few of them were smiling widely, while Nerthor and Lienhor were sporting blank faces.
Harry was a bit bewildered by this. Usually, Nerthor would have been one of the first to gloat over something like this.
As the students resumed eating, everybody could feel the tension coating the room. Hardly anyone spoke and all those present were waiting for the trigger to the coming explosion.
Finally, since most where finished with their breakfast, Dumbledore rose to his feet.
"Students, as you'll learn soon enough, the Dark Lord raided the town of Dorval yesterday. They were stopped, but we intervened too late too prevent the death of several member of the community. Know that teachers will be ready to help you, as well as older students, should you need anything. Now, I'll ask you a moment of silence in memory of those who passed away last night."
Thirty seconds later, he spoke again.
"Thank you."
The hall broke into whispers as the students started to leave their classes. Harry turned to Teneb, signalling for Ron and Hermione to go ahead. The red head looked about to say something, but didn't get the time since Hermione dragged him to their first club of the day: Charms weaving.
"I'm going back to the chamber."
"I'll come. It's a good place to practice."
Unfortunately, his last words were overhead by Sarwin.
"Practice what, little human… how to be the perfect submissive? And you think yourself worthy of the Athar's title."
Nerthor looked around him nervously as students started to stop around them, listening attentively to the exchange.
"Sarwin, not here," he snapped, not missing the sharp glance of young Teneb.
"What's the matter, Nerthor?!" asked Effilin, frowning. "Don't tell me you're supporting him!"
Nerthor sneered.
"I won't have part in this, not in front of children!"
With that the Mind master exited the hall, followed quietly by Lienhor.
A look of scorn passed on Sarwin's face.
"See what you've done, human. You've corrupted him and some of the scholars; I heard them talk about teaching your people! Teaching your kind!"
By then, the Magis was almost apoplectic, while Harry was growing stiffer and stiffer. Cold blue flames were shining in his eyes.
"What is your point, Master Sarwin?"
The Magis looked smug.
"I call for your destitution of your rank and the erasing of your presence in our midst."
Teneb stepped forwards.
"On what grounds? And who is your witness?"
"On the charge of submission to an inferior, display of activities going against our rules and a breaking of his oath, since he didn't go help innocents last night. I will be his witness," said Edevia, her voice calm.
"Neither did either of you."
The Archery mistress shrugged the argument aside.
"We swore obedience to our King."
Teneb was about to speak when Harry raised his hand.
"Very well. Who will challenge me to prove his words? Or are you spouting non-sense you're not going to see through." His tone was chilling and biting, something which earned him a raised eyebrow from his potion professor, who, like everyone present was watching avidly the exchange.
Words of the altercation had apparently spread, and the hall was filling itself again, a wide circle being drawn around them.
Ron and Hermione, as well as the other members of the junior order, were trying to keep the younger ones at bay, wand in hand, either to shield themselves or to attack. The professors were behaving likewise.
"I will," said Sarwin.
Harry raised his eyebrow.
"Really? Should I remind you that your powers were reduced to human levels? Do you think you can challenge me?"
The Magis' face distorted into a snarl as he started to attack.
They exchanged hexes for a few moments, but it was clear to those watching that Harry had the upper hand, since Sarwin had difficulties fuelling his spells, not being used to the restrictions applied to his power reserves.
Finally Harry threw him against the shields surrounding them. All the time, he had been using his wand, careful not to reveal his abilities too soon.
Thinking he had proven his point, he turned his back to Sarwin and walked towards Teneb.
Harry! Behind you!
Teneb's mental cry came barely in time as shouts echoed in the hall.
Without thinking, Harry dropped to his feet, feeling something wheeze above his head.
Looking up, he saw a magical blade make his way back towards him.
Concentrating, he created another one and shot it at the other. The two clashed and exploded in a burst of power which made the walls tremble slightly.
Harry tried to catch his breath, trembling slightly from the adrenalin
rush. He didn't see the master rush towards him, dagger in hand.
Before he could do anything, he was pushed to the grounds. Looking up, he saw
that Teneb had thrown himself at the master, holding the weapon away from his
own throat. Sarwin managed to shook Teneb's hold, knocking him aside and strode
at Harry's side, his dagger still in hand.
"This will solve the problem!"
The professor were hurrying towards them, but they would not be there in time…
He raised his arm and brought it down as strong as possible, aiming for Harry's heart. The young wizard was too stunned by the swiftness of the past events to react and dodge the lethal blow. With horrified eyes, he watched as his death came closer.
A sharp cry suddenly resonnated in the hall, startling everyone and making Sarwin hesitate a bit, enough to allow Harry to gather his wits and roll away. A blue light was getting bigger and in a few seconds, a dragon started to appear.
The Azurean stood in front of everyone, power exuding from him. The magical creature looked around and settled his glare on the Magis.
"To-Tohran?"
The draconian expression hardened.
You no longer have the right to call me by my given name. You broke your oath to me, severing our bond.
Hearing those words, Sarwin dropped to his knees. All masters present couldn't refrain from taking a step backward. Harry paled, as did Teneb, who was back on his feet and at Harry's side, helping him to stand up.
"Tohran! No!" Sarwin was panicked, his skin a sickly shade of grey.
Why shouldn't I? The eyes of the dragon held no compassion for his rider.
"I didn't mean it! It was not that serious!" A pleading was audible in the Magis' voice.
So in addition to being a murderer, you're also a liar…" A deep sadness was heard in his words. "You were warned, so be it! Don't call me again, I won't answer your call, neither will other dragons.
With that said, the Azurean disappeared, leaving a sobbing Sarwin behind. Edevia went to him and pulled him to his feet.
He pulled away from her and looked around with a crazy glint in his eyes.
Finally he set his look on Harry who returned it steadily, not trying to hide the pity he was feeling. With a strangled sob, the master ran out of the hall. Effilin took a few steps towards the doors, but stopped and bowed his head.
People glanced uneasily at each other, trying to avoid to look at Harry, no matter how much they wanted to. The young wizard was staring at the doors, fists clenched. Turning his head, he shot a withering glance at the headmaster and the professors.
"This is all your fault!" he whispered through gritted teeth, before hurrying out, slamming the door behind him. Teneb sighed and walked to the two remaining masters. He whispered a few words to them and the three of them exited quickly the room, ignoring the buzzing hall behind them.
For minutes, Dumbledore tried to regain the calm, to no avail. Finally, he shot some sparks. Silence fell on the students and adults present.
"Prefects, escort your peers to your common rooms and stay there until your head comes. The clubs are canceled for the day."
Harry spent his day pummeling dummies, Dumbledore and the professors debating this new development. Teneb and the masters looking for Sarwin, the scholars doing their work, as usual.
The day seemed to have no end…
Sarwin's body was found at dusk, in the Forbidden Forest, his throat slitted, his own bloody dagger still in his hand.
ooooooooooooooooo
Here it is, next part in two weeks…
Naia