"It seems we have all week to ourselves," Harry mused. Sarah grinned at the thought, waving with, by Harry's observation, some vindictiveness at the departing students. Katerina tried to discreetly shoot a dirty glare at her fellow fifth year student before stepping aboard the Durmstrang ship. "What would you like to do?"
"Sex ritual," she answered eagerly, causing several student nearby to chortle. Harry merely chuckled. "What? Am I not attractive enough?"
"As tempting as your offer is, I must decline. I daresay a sexual relationship between us would make things a tad bit awkward." Sarah pouted cutely, to which Harry ruffled her hair. "Besides, a maiden should save her womanhood for her mate."
"Ugh, that traditional hogwash?" she snorted. Harry raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Sarah, who frowned. "Isn't it just some stupid tradition?"
"On the contrary," Harry chuckled, "a woman's first time is sacred because a weak bond forms with the first man that penetrates her. It is why rape is considered such a heinous crime, for it defiles not only the body, but the soul."
"I thought that was just a myth," Sarah frowned. Harry shrugged.
"All myths have some truth to them. While I have not studied it, I fully believe in its validity."
"Then why not claim me?"
Harry hesitated, wondering how much to give away. Strengthening the privacy ward around them, he eyed her seriously. "I choose to never coerce those I care for in this regard, because my first time was not voluntary. As far as I know, males are not bonded to the first witch they copulate with, and yet...even to this day, the revulsion at it remains a part of me."
"And what if I still wanted to give myself to you?"
"Then when you come of age I shall grant it," Harry answered. Sarah appeared appeased by the answer, and inclined her head in deference. "Why the sudden interest?"
A blush crept up her cheeks. "I...I overheard several older students talk about offering themselves to you."
"Ah," Harry nodded considerately. "And you hope to stake your claim?"
She ducked her head, a flush to her cheek as she nodded meekly. He resisted the urge to chuckle, instead wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in a hug. The motion, however genuine, was awkward for him to perform, though Sarah seemed not to mind.
"Sarah, you and I...we have a very special relationship," he assured softly. "More than anyone else, we understand each other, exposed ourselves to each other in a way more intimate than most couples...but...I can't offer what you deserve."
"You don't…"
"I care for you, Sarah," Harry sighed tiredly. "By Merlin, what I feel for you is probably the closest approximation to love I'll ever be capable of! But I can't...I can't let anyone get close to me...not after...not after that."
"You can tell me when you're ready," she whispered soothingly. Harry looked around, only just now noticing they had already made their way back into their common room. Casting several privacy charms and detection spells, which returned negative, he sighed.
"The first time I gave myself willingly was to a girl named Sparrow. We were both agents in the same program...I...we...we fell in love. We never should have, I...I could not tell you how, if my life depended on it, but we did. We made love on the eve of our mission, and plotted an escape. It was a trap, I...I fought off our pursuers so she could escape. I was thrown in the camps...barely survived...but in the end, I was given a choice: condemn myself to suffer the rest of my life in the camps, or kill her. I took the coward's way out. I...when you give yourself so wholly to another, in body, mind and soul, to desecrate its sanctity is to break your ability to ever form such relationships again. How can I love? Knowing that one day I would betray? How could I love? Knowing that I'm exploiting those around me, manipulating them? How could I love? Knowing the treacherous path I am to embark on?"
"You trust us with your life, but not your heart," Sparrow lamented softly. "I...cannot pretend to understand. I could only imagine the pain I would feel if you left me to die...but...I choose to believe, Harry. I choose to believe in you, that one day, you will open your heart to me as I have you."
"And what if I never do? The reality might be that I am never able to reciprocate as such even if I wished. That despite your unconditional devotion, it will forever be one sided."
"Then I would curse the gods who condemned you so. I would curse the monsters who moulded you into what you are. I would curse myself for failing to do more. But I don't believe it will come to that. Even now you open yourself to me when you could have remained silent."
"And what if one day I fall in love with another?"
"Then I shall rejoice, knowing you have found the happiness you deserve." Sarah shrugged.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why this devotion?" he questioned.
"At first, because of your simple acts of kindness," she chuckled, "ironic, no? That my mind knew it was manipulation, yet my heart so longed for the comfort that emotion overruled logic."
"And now?"
"Your dream, your vision for the world. One of security, a world where no one will ever have to suffer like us again."
"Is it ironic? That it would be the two of us who are so idealistic?"
"Perhaps," she shrugged uncaringly. "But who's going to stop me?"
-Break-
"Daughter," Ivan Zakharov greeted neutrally as she entered the duelling room, closing the door softly behind her. "Come. How is your social life going?"
"Harry was impressed by my improvements and gave me several pointers," she answered curtly.
"Oh?" Ivan inquired, a curious eyebrow raised. Katerina stiffened imperceptibly at the gesture, and carefully considered her words. Her father was a very proud man, and a critique of his teachings would construe a serious slight in his mind. "What was there to...improve on?"
"He found my mastery of the spells lacking. Casting speed, precision and bridging," she admitted, knowing lying would only sour things further. "While he admitted to being impressed with my spell selection, he noted that I had micro-stutters between various spell chains."
"Microstutters?" Ivan asked confusedly.
"The...a term he invented to describe awkward transition between pronunciations of spells," she answered. "I...I can't quite explain it, but it delivered results."
"Show me."
"Crucifigo, Stagno, Hirudo, Rumpo, Opoungu, Valaha, Shavikiin," she cast, taking a breath, then casting, "Crucifigo, Opoungu, Stagno, Shavikiin, Hirudo, Valaha, Rumpo."
His eyebrows raised, noticing the single second it saved. "How...peculiar. He is far more studious in combat than I believed. In all my years...rarely have I heard anyone worry about pronunciation."
Katerina felt some of the tension escape her body. If her father noticed, he didn't comment, merely muttering under his breath. "Let us see how far you've improved, then. Ossus, amtovo. Velari."
She flicked her wand in an intricate motion, causing all three spells to miss slightly, shocking the man enough to gape. A wide grin appeared on her face, and she pledged to immortalise the look on his face. Undoubtedly it would not happen again for a long time. Before he could demand an explanation, she answered, "Another trick he showed me."
"This I have to hear," he growled, almost hungrily. "An enchantment perhaps? A variation of the deflection spell?"
"Manipulation of the air particles," Katerina answered, unable to hide the smug grin on her face when he gaped once again, only having just closed his jaw moments before. "To summarise, magical spells lose integrity depending on their spells, and with few exceptions the more powerful the spell the greater the effect. Thus by modulating the density of the air around me to be greater, spells try to avert from the area."
"And how do you manipulate the air around you?" he questioned. "You do have a slight affinity for air, but certainly not enough to do...this."
"It takes great concentration, and is quite a risk if a particular spell is less susceptible, but essentially I'm packing the air around me into a protective bubble. A weak wind charm combined with a containment one, to be apt. I'm only able to manage it for several seconds, but he can hold it up for hours."
"If he is that skilled, then I suppose will have to advance your training even further," he mused. "He is an air elemental?"
"Energy," she corrected with a shake of her head. "He's apparently trying to familiarise himself with all the elements though."
"How...ambitious," Ivan mused thoughtfully. "It seems...I daresay he makes me feel lackluster."
Katerina stared incredulously as the man chuckled for several moments. Suddenly, he sobered, gaze on her more serious than ever.
"What about that Ivarin girl, she's in the muggle world, is she not?" Katerina itched to ask how her father knew that, but resisted, knowing she wouldn't receive a straight answer anyways. She merely nodded in confirmation. "That means she's not practising her magic as much. You need to surpass her if you hope to secure your place in his inner circle. No Zakharov will be anything less than second in command."
Katerina did not speak, trying to suppress her own internal worries of Sarah already having monopolised the place, instead nodding determinedly. "Then teach me."
Ivan raised his wand, and Katerina's lips began to move, an incantation rumbling from her throat.
-Break-
"Come child," Lord Rosier ordered, moving down the corridor with swiftness unexpected for his age. Seeing that his father merely nodded for Otaba to obey, he clamped down on his occlumency and followed, arriving at a grand chamber with a throne at the centre. Rosier fell to one knee, and otaba quickly followed, as the figure at the centre scrutinised them.
Calculating blue eyes observed them for several moments, before a pale hand beckoned for them to stand. A smooth voice beckoned, "Closer, my friends."
"You honour us, milord," Lord Rosier breathed reverently as he stepped closer. Otaba got a closer look at the man, a pale complexion and straight blonde hair that had mostly whitened. "May I present my nephew, Otaba Rosier."
"Ah...come forward, child. Look me in the eyem," the dark lord invited smoothly. Otaba began channeling false memories to the forefront of his mind, knowing if the dark lord did more than a surface skim he would be in trouble.
Forcing him to appear slightly shaken, he met the dark lord's eyes, which gleamed slightly before quickly returning to the normal. Grindelwald's lips curled up, a smug, satisfied smirk on his face. "My my...quite the ritual enthusiast you are, young Otaba. I was particular to charms myself...but to each their own. Tell me, how do you find Durmstrang?"
"It is an adequate school. The professors challenge me sufficiently."
"And what of...Harry White?"
"What do you wish to know about him, milord?"
"He is in your year, is he not?"
"Yes, we're both in fifth year."
"And how close are you to him?"
"I help him in rituals in exchange for some tutoring in other subjects," Otaba shrugged. Lord Rosier looked appalled at the gesture, though Grindlewald lazily waved off his impending apology. "I'm sure that my lord has various informants that would be able to provide better information."
"Perhaps, though you can tell a lot about a person from the perspective they offer. So tell me, Otaba, what are your thoughts on him?"
"Prodigious. He beat Ira Ivarin at a duel despite being three years her junior. He wields massive influence over the student body."
"And the board and staff," Grindelwald added thoughtfully. Otaba suppressed the urge to gulp, seeing the clear warning with the interjection. He would need to tread even more carefully.
"Unsubstantiated rumours by my best guess. I know he managed to introduce many popular reforms, and that he is quite popular for it."
"I see," Grindelwald pursed his lips. Otaba wondered if he was about to be punished. "I suppose he would have to conceal himself well. Isard, join us."
Otaba suppressed his desire to panic. Logically speaking, his association with Harry wasn't well known, so the professor shouldn't be able to expose him. Yet he couldn't help but worry slightly in spite of this.
"My lord," the man bowed.
"Yes, I must wonder how one of my lieutenants managed to get themselves removed from Durmstrang," Grindelwald asked softly. Despite the anger not being directed at him, Otaba still felt a shiver down his spine.
"My lord, the boy managed to gain control of the student assembly by empowering the neutral faction. They formed student hit squads that marginalised the staff and the board. He then legitimised his rule by forcing several reforms through."
"And pray tell me, Isard, how you managed to become a victim of these reforms?"
"I...my methods were a bit...harsh."
"Otaba, tell me, is this true?"
"Many students...hold a grudge against professor Ivarin for his methods," Otaba commented neutrally. "Especially upper year students often complain of excessively brutal exercises or insurmountable challenges."
"I see," Grindelwald mused, turning back to a rapidly paling Isard. "And pray tell me, why you allowed your arrogance to cost us so dearly?"
"I...I was merely doing my due diligence to weed out the weak, milord."
"And should I weed you out now, then Isard."
"Milord I can still be of use to you!"
"Indeed. Make no mistake, Isard, your misstep has...complicated several of my plans. But what is done is done. Retire to your quarters, I shall deal with you later." Isard bowed lowly before quickly leaving the room with what dignity he could muster.
"Young Rosier, thank you for the conversation. It was most...enlightening. Do try and learn more about White...he could be an asset to our cause. Now if you'll excuse us, I have some business to discuss with my circle."
"Of course, milord," Otaba bowed, quickly eyeing all the individuals in the room before leaving gracefully. Once the door closed behind him, he let out a sigh of relief. One afternoon down, another week of Yule to go.
-Break-
Voldemort stirred the cauldron carefully, fighting the tremors that wracked her hand. Her magic flared up erratically, but soon, the problems of this body would go away. Adding the final ingredient, a small pouch of crushed, glittering gemstone fragments, the liquid in the cauldron turned perfectly transparent.
Checking quickly that the protective wards around her property were still intact, she lowered herself in, feeling her body slowly dissolve into the liquid. She opened her mouth, but no scream came out as her body slowly oozed into the liquid.
After several tense minutes, the liquid bubbled, and from the now milky white sludge, a head began to emerge, with short black hair, healthy skin and observant brown eyes emerged from the cauldron. Looking down, she traced a finger down her body, indulging in the sensations of pleasure as it passed her nipple and when it lingered around her groin.
It was oddly human, to feel such sensations again long after they had been dulled by countless rituals. Rather than vulnerability, she felt great excitement bubbling up to her mind, and only years of occlumency prevented her from acting embarrassingly eager, something she could not condone herself doing despite being in private.
Stepping out of the cauldron, she grabbed her wand, and felt a rejuvenated connection, so much better than prior to her transformation, when her soul had been housed in the imperfect body of Amanda Hurst.
Quickly conjuring a set of robes to cover herself with, she vanished the cauldron and its contents, a delighted smile on her face. Lady Voldemort was back.
-Break-
Ira sat inside her dormitory, shared with fellow witch cadet Isabelle Lebedev. An owl clutching a small package pecked the window, causing both the girls to look up. Waving her off, Ira opened the window, conjuring a bowl and some water to provide the grateful owl as she retrieved the package.
"It's for you," Ira informed Isabelle, who bounced off the bed and accepted the package, tearing open the wrapping and letting out an excited squeal at the sight of a small box of chocolate truffles.
"Ooh! The Raven got me something! Now I'm glad I sent him that set of ceremonial knives." Opening the box, she eagerly popped one of the chocolates into her mouth, humming in satisfaction, before proffering the box to Ira, who accepted one as well. "So, what'd your boyfriend get you?"
"He's not my boyfriend," Ira rolled her eyes with an exasperated smile, pointedly not looking at Isabelle's waggling eyebrow.
"Sure he's not. Ira Ivarin, the jewel of Durmstrang, just decides to come into the muggle military like a common grunt after spending several months with the elusive Raven. Tell me why I don't believe you."
"You'd be surprised how devoted some people get. For instance, I know this girl that has a crush on the Raven when he came to one of the training sessions and hexed her partner so much he had to be taken to the medical wing," Ira sing songed, laughing at the scowl and blush on Isabelle's cheeks.
"You're mean. I'm not sharing my truffles with you anymore," she pouted, which only increased Ira's snickers. The flap of an owl's wings caused her to look up, and she smiled at the sight of a raven clutching a small parcel landing beside the owl.
Ira quickly relieved the raven of its cargo, surprised when it did not bother staying, immediately flapping its wings, pecking the owl and flying off, eliciting several angry hoots from the owl. Shaking her head in amusement, she unwrapped the package delicately, pretending not to notice the curious stare of Isabelle, to find a cloak within it. Frowning, she felt the material, silky smooth, and put it on.
A gasp turned her attention from enjoying the cloak to Isabelle, who merely pointed shakily to her body. Staring down, she gasped, dropping the cloak in shock of the sight that her body had become invisible. Scrambling to pick it up, she stroked the material more delicately, while Isabelle picked up the note that dropped onto the floor.
"Dear Ira,
I hope you are doing well. Be sure to convey my season's greetings to the troops. Your last report was quite fascinating, though I would politely disagree with your inference that Stalingrad could have been bypassed. It is my opinion that without it as a logistics hub, the caucuses would have remained vulnerable to counterattack, leading the southern army to be cut off. Initial successes were exaggerated because the Nazis believed a final thrust, as the OKW wished, would come in Moscow, whereas Hitler directly ordered the focus to shift to the oil fields of the south. The deliberate misinterpretation of his orders at Barbarossa's onset, can attribute to both the initial success, with the Soviets believing the main push would be to the south, and the eventual faltering of the war effort, having failed to capture the oil fields. To be fair, even if they had captured it, the Soviets managed to destroy them so thoroughly they would have been unusable without significant infrastructure being rebuilt. But I digress.
As you no doubt have realised, I have sent you an invisibility cloak, the first of its kind in fact. If you feel the material, I do not doubt you will deduce it is, in fact, not demiguise, given its rougher texture. It is, in fact, nothing more than an ordinary cloak I enchanted. I would caution you on relying solely upon it to cloak yourself, seeing there exists ways to identify even near perfect cloaks. However, you will find that while perhaps not as proficient as a demiguise cloak, I have conferred upon it the additional benefit of absorbing some spells.
I would appreciate it if you would keep this upon your person. We live in dangerous times, seeing as Grindelwald has returned. Continue as planned, but alert me if any trouble comes up.
Warm regards,
Harry
Well that was sweet. I can't believe he managed to make an invisibility cloak. Let's try it! Stupefy!"
The spell impacted on the cloak, which rippled in distortion slightly, though Katerina wasn't the slightest bit harmed. Both goggled at the sight.
"Did you just throw a spell at me?"
"I was confident the cloak would protect you," Isabelle defended meekly at the glare Ira sent her.
"Sure you were. I suggest you sleep with one eye open tonight, dear," Ira smiled wickedly, sending a shudder down the other girl's spine. "It'd be a shame for something bad to happen during Yule, wouldn't it?"
-Break-
"Welcome back honey!" Lily wrapped her daughter in a hug as she stepped through. Rose rolled her eyes, but indulged in the hug nonetheless. "How was the train?"
"It was fine, we spent the time playing exploding snap. Susan wants to come over on the 27th, and Neville reminds us that we're celebrating at their home for the New Year," Rose answered. Lily hummed her agreement. "Where's dad?"
"He's...in France," Lily sighed, noticing how Rose clearly slumped. "He really wanted to try and come back, but they need him on the continent."
"He's in France, right? Why don't we go visit him, then, mum?"
"Absolutely not! Do you have any idea what's happening there?" At Rose's hesitant shake of her head, Lily sighed. "It's...it's really bad there, Rose. Grindelwald...he...he escaped."
"He's...he's the dark lord that Dumbledore defeated, right?" Rose asked with a concentrated frown. "Why can't Dumbledore just deal with him?"
"It's...not that simple. Grindelwald...he's hiding right now and stirring up trouble. This has put significant pressure on the French, and so our ministry sent your father and several other aurors to help. T-there's word that a civil war...that it's looking increasingly likely."
"But...how is he doing that? Everyone knows he was defeated! Why would anyone follow him."
"This...is a complicated question," Lily sighed, wilting at the curious expression Rose shot her. She had never been able to resist that look. "Grindelwald...he believes that magicals should rule over the muggles, an ideology which draws many. He's...charismatic, cunning and clever, which is how he managed to rally so many followers. The destruction...I wasn't alive to witness it, but it nearly razed the continent. The rebuilding took years, and even today Grindelwald is feared and hated in the continent just like us with V-voldemort. But enough of that. What do you want for Christmas?"
"I…" Rose fidgeted nervously, causing Lily's eyes to narrow.
"A puffleskin, perhaps?" she prompted. At Rose's shake of the head, she continued, "A new broom? Some books? A nice dress? Some toys?"
"Promise you won't get mad?"
"Pinky promise," Lily agreed quickly.
"I...I want to know more about Harry." Lily stiffened. "You and dad...never talk about him...but I want to know. He...he was my twin...I...I need to know. Please mum…"
Lily was shaking now, but at Rose's worried look, she forcibly controlled herself, taking several deep breaths. "Alright."
Rose beamed, perching herself in Lily's lap and snuggling into her while the woman trailed her hands through her daughter's hair. "Harry...Harry was always a smart boy. He...he was probably only one when he started speaking words...James won't believe me, for some reason Harry only ever did so when it was just the three of us. He...he was so protective of you, everywhere you would go he would follow. I remember Alice and I being so jealous that you always went to him whenever you were hurt or sad. Harry...well...he loved reading, oh so much. I remember giving him a picture book when he hadn't even reached two years old. He could barely turn the page, but the glow in his eyes...I swear he understood every word."
"He was a genius?"
"Perhaps," Lily chuckled. "He also had quite the remarkable control over his magic...all his accidental magic, it was so...controlled, that I swear it's more like wandless magic. He would always be keeping you out of trouble. I remember when you were running and nearly fell off the stairs, he somehow summoned you to him."
"But...I thought the summoning charm didn't work on living creatures," Rose frowned. Lily chuckled.
"I don't know what he did, but he did something. Anyhow, I remember one time you got annoyed with Harry following you around and bopped him in the head. I remember him refusing to talk to you until you started crying. He was by your side in an instant."
"He loved me?"
"Probably more than anything in this world," Lily chuckled sadly. "I...what I wouldn't give to bring him back."
"Do you blame dad?"
"It's…complicated," Lily struggled. "Your father...you have to understand...he...he really tried to do what was best. If...if we knew what...what your aunt and uncle would have done to Harry, we would have never dreamt of sending him there."
"But he'll come back one day, right?" Rose asked with wide, watery eyes. Lily, not trusting her voice, merely nodded, trying to force a visage of confidence. It must have failed, as Rose flinched away from her touch, clutching her legs to her chest and began to sob.
"Uncle Albus promised he would find Harry! He promised me! That he would come back, that I," her voice cracked, "that I would have my twin back, my brother. He told me it wasn't my fault...but...does Harry hate me? Harry he-he hates me, doesn't he? It's all my-"
"Of course he wouldn't, Rose," Lily interjected firmly, clutching Rose and locking gazes with her. "Rose Lily Potter, you listen to me. Your brother loved you, and left because he...he thought that he was protecting you and your father...he...Rose, Harry loved you with all his being."
"I want him back, mum," Rose whimpered. "I...I want him back."
"I know, baby, I do too," Lily sighed, tears beginning to pool in her own eyes. "But...we just have to believe, okay, baby? If we pray hard enough, then he'll come back to us, okay Rose? Can you do that for Harry?"
Rose nodded, closing her eyes, her face scrunched up, prayers muttered under her breath. Were she another child and in another circumstance, she might well have been wishing for an expensive broom, or a makeup kit like a normal child. Lily couldn't help but despair, for never had she felt her own words were so hollow. Closing her eyes, she began to pray silently as well.
-Break-
"Where are we going?" Sarah queried for the fifth in the past minute. Harry merely shot her an amused look, unaffected by her pout.
"If you don't stop asking, it might be to bed."
"Going to give me a spanking?" she laughed, before pouting when it didn't draw any hint of embarrassment from him. "You're no fun."
"Anyways, we're here," he announced, opening the door to an old classroom and ushering her in. Following her, he shut the door firmly behind, and cast several advanced locking charms. Meanwhile, Sarah was staring in awe at the hundreds and candles that dotted the room, leaving only a small circular space in the room and a clear path towards it from the door.
"W-what are we doing?"
"A ritual," he answered simply. At her perplexed look, he shook his head in bemusement. "No, I haven't changed my mind, but I thought that we could commune together."
"Commune?"
"Trust me," he encouraged. She nodded in acceptance, walking to the middle and waiting for his guidance. Taking a seat cross legged, he gestured for her to do the same, their kneecaps touching. He held his hands out, and Sarah placed them into his, the two gripping each other softly.
"Open your mind," he whispered softly, gently sending a probe into her mind. She heeded his request, and lowered her barrier, watching as he slowly knit a connection between their two minds. As the bridge neared completion, he began projecting softly his affection for her, drawing a gasp from Sarah as she began returning her own feelings of adoration, their emotions travelling across the mind bridge as their emotions intermingled and their souls started to tug, humming in pleasure as they resonated with each other.
Slowly, Harry eased off with the emotions he projected, gently pressing her mind to do the same. Over the next several minutes, the pleasure felt lessened as their souls began to settle down. As they opened their eyes, his eyes briefly flashed her azure as hers did his emerald. Both had soft smiles, uncaring of the gentle white aura that surrounded them or the candles around having faded out.
"That was...thank you," she breathed out softly. Harry offered a slow nod, pulling her into his lap as the two hugged each other tightly. "What was that?"
"A communion ritual, one that intermingles the souls of two individuals. There are variations of it to cement brotherhood, sisterhood, marriage and friendship. Normally, most would only feel brief flashes of the other's emotions, and it was a means to bear yourselves to each other."
"We've taken that to the next step, though," Sarah observed. Harry nodded, waving his hand carelessly and relighting all the candles, which began burning once again. "Makes my gift seem stupid in comparison."
"You didn't have to get me anything," Harry assured. Sarah merely chuckled, fishing a small vial of blood out of her pocket. Harry's eyes widened, but she placed a finger over his lips.
"This is my vow to you, Harry," she whispered softly, placing the vial onto his trembling palm before gently lifting his fingers to close them into a fist. "My pact, to always remain loyal and devoted. By my life, my soul, my magic, in this life and the next, I am yours."
"I…"
"Say yes then," she echoed. He chuckled fondly at the remembrance.
"You honour me, Sarah. One day, I hope to do the same."
Author Notes:
A longer chapter than usual. Hopefully you enjoyed the various perspectives on what happened during the week long holiday. A note on Harry's conversation with Sarah, I added it in here even though it might be a bit early because there was originally meant to be another plot point, featuring Jade recieving a letter from General White. The draft is below:
Jade sighed tiredly as the last dignitary left her office. It was yet another regular Friday for her, but hopefully she would finally be able to get some much needed rest on Saturday. Her floo chimed, and those hopes were dispelled, as she forced another smile, moving to the floo to answer it.
"Dad!" she exclaimed in surprise at the sight of the minister's face.
"Darling, it's been far too long. How is the MBU treating you?" the elderly man asked kindly.
"It's fine," she waved off. "Growth is starting to really slow, and problems are beginning to rise. Many are wary about the rents being too high, and the tide is turning against further immigration. The president is going to have to truly prove himself now."
"So he will," the man agreed, "but I did not call you to talk about that. You've not answered several of my letters, daughter, it makes me most distressed."
"There was nothing to say," Jade ground out. "I've made my position on the matter quite clear."
"Is there no room for compromise? You're reaching the age where you really need to consider settling down," the man asked worriedly. Jade resisted a biting retort, knowing that her father only meant well, even if it infuriated her at times.
"I'll know when the right man comes," Jade assured, even if internally, she sighed. There was only one man she would even consider, and it would not work out. "Are the conservatives pushing you again? I can come back for a few days, show up at a few parties, put down some rumours."
"Don't you worry about dad," the Chinese minister shook his head, "I can take care of the upstarts here. Though if you want to really make me happy, I would like to see some grandchildren before I die."
"Dad!" Jade exclaimed embarrassedly, causing the man to chuckle heartily.
"What about that boy, Harold, wasn't it? You seem quite fond of him."
"He's just a friend," Jade dismissed quickly, feeling the creeping blush crawling up her neck. Thankfully, she knew the floo would not accentuate such details. "Besides, he's far too young. Ten years is too much.""Oh, is that a critique of my marriage, dear?" her father asked lightly. Jade blushed, scowling.
"That's different! I just...you know what, I just don't want to think on that."
"Just don't dismiss the idea," the minister pleaded. "You'll find that true love is hard to find, often, even to have a solid friendship is remarkable for a long and prosperous relationship."
"Dad, I still have a long time. I'm only thirty two! And no, I don't want to hear about mom's age."
"She was twenty one and I was twenty nine when we married, dear. Just...think on it dear.""I will dad, I promise.""That's all I can ask," the man sighed before disconnecting the floo. Jade sighed as the green flames disappeared, slumping into a chair. She was about to call it a night when there was a knock on the door, and her secretary's head popped in.
"Ambassador, you have a package."
"Just give it to me," she nodded, accepting the small parcel and placing it on her desk. Casting several detection charms on it, she found nothing insidious and opened it, frowning when there was a photo of...Harry's kid? But...Jade shook her head, deciding to read the letter in it, which had a small raven embroidered on the parchment.
Raven
It's been a while. I find myself in need of your services again. The New York Federal Reserve will play host to a very valuable object which I find myself desiring. The stone of heart. You are to acquire it and pass it to me. In return, I shall give you your first born. I suppose you wouldn't know, but Orobus gave birth to your son in 1984. I will say, he is the closest to matching your potential.
The window of opportunity will be the twenty fifth to the twenty seventh of July. When you have acquired the stone, an owl will find its way to you. Attach the stone, and you will have your child back.
"What the fuck…" Jade murmured as she saw a second letter.
Miss Lin,
We met only briefly, but needless to say I am aware of your closeness with mister White. It is imperative that the letter attached here makes its way to him. I will know if you do not deliver it, and the consequences will be dire.
"Agartha!" she yelled, and the secretary popped her head in worriedly. "Who left this package?"
"A raven, ma'am. We tried to trace it but it just...well it died after we took the package from it," the woman shook her head in disgust.
"Thank you, you may resume your duties," Jade waved her off. The secretary bowed before quickly vacating the room, leaving her to thoughts. She couldn't help but eye the photo. "What the fuck, Harry…"
A crazy plotline, I know! There's a reason why Orobus disappeared in the earlier chapters: because she was pregnant with Harry's child. I had planned for this to be a plotpoint sometime between now and at the conclusion of the tournament, but after some deep thought, despite this being (in my opinion) an interesting twist that could tie in the first and second arcs, I didn't want to bring back in General White after his final conclusion in the first arc. If the arc had happened, I imagined General White and Voldemort having struck a deal to blackmail Harry into stealing essentially a philosopher's stone in exchange for his firstborn, who also suffered the same training as Harry did. However, in the end, I decided against doing this, which has admittedly left the first and second arcs slightly disjointed. This ties in perfectly to Albert Hughes' (Did this name come from Marquis Black's Emperor, btw, if not it's an amazing coincidence) question on whether General White is still alive. I kept this open for a long time, but as of right now, I have no plans to bring General White back. Harry mistakenly believes that the General is still hunting after him, though this is not the case. I won't definitively say he won't come back, but it's very unlikely. Thank you for the question!
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