Welcome back to another chapter, dear reader. As always, consider joining our discord server, where I'm happy to chat about any questions or comments you have. The code is: Jew89k8Jp8. Otherwise, I'm also happy to address any questions here, though you'll have to wait until the next chapter's author notes.
Alana forced a smile as she excused herself from the party. Many of the scientists, initially intimidated by the thought of 'partying', had quickly relaxed when they learnt it was just some light hearted dancing, karaoke, and trivia, even if the latter got really competitive in the blink of an eye. Most had indulged in one or two glasses of wine, but nothing more. Discussion flowed freely, and many of the divides normally present between various teams was missing, as the lowest scientist and the highest administrator mingled, sharing various fun stories and bouncing ideas around.
Christmas, or Yuletide as Alana preferred it, had always grated on her sensibilities. A tradition once based on the ritualistically powerful alignment of the winter equinox had been bastardised into a capitalistic exchange of gifts and an excuse to indulge in excess. Yet with the followers she had acquired, Alana found herself not minding as much. They had been pushing hard all year, and oddly enough, she found herself having to instruct them to pace themselves with breaks rather than encouraging or nudging them to hurry up. Usually she was among the most zealous in work, yet here, she was probably average, if not slightly below, something that awed and humbled her.
Yet for all her admiration of her teams, and their respect for her authority, she found herself sorely disappointed and in little mood to celebrate. It was silly of course, he had so much to do, and probably was too busy, yet Alana dearly wished Harry had sent her something. Even a card would have meant so much; she had kept every single piece of writing he sent her, locked in a safe deposit box under her bed. For the first time, it seemed he hadn't bothered, and that had killed off much of her desire to celebrate.
It was petty. It was stupid. It wasn't like she had gotten him anything special, just an order of chocolates she thought he seemed rather fond of, and yet...it did hurt, far more than she cared to admit.
Trying and failing to mend her thoughts, she was about to enter her quarters when she noticed the lights in her private lab were turned on. Immediately snapping out of her morose thoughts, her wand slipped into her hand as she cautiously crept through the door, eyes narrowed and scanning for any anomalies. Pieces of equipment were strewn about, and several strange pieces she had no ownership of were spread on the workbench, radiating power.
Cautiously stepping forward, her brain froze as a pair of hands wrapped around her waist, and she prepared to strike, when his damned soothing voice enthralled her. "Not bad, you still remember our training, I see."
"Harry...you came," Alana breathed out with emotion, trying to suppress the desire her body projected. The way his warm breath tickled her ear was sending her nerves into overdrive.
"You thought I would forget about my special woman?" he chuckled, spinning her until their eyes met. She found herself lost in those green eyes as he traced her jawline with a finger, sending shivers down Alana's spine.
"Well you're always so busy, I thought that...well I know it's silly, but…"
"Alana, so long as you remain loyal, you never need to fear being abandoned by me," Harry reassured, pulling the woman into a warm embrace. Alana startled, so unused to him initiating contact, yet basking in the comfort he provided all the same. Far too soon for her liking, Harry broke off the hug.
"You've been doing so well, that I thought I'd share with you something I've been working on," he chuckled, leading her over to the workbench. "I hope you don't mind, I've set up a few things."
"No, no, it's fine," she assured hastily, her voice higher pitched than normal, before blushing at his low chuckle. Alana desperately hoped that he didn't notice her thighs pressing together.
"I'm glad. I do miss the time we got to spend researching together in the past," he mused sadly. The admission caused a clench in her heart and a feeling of relief at the same time. Harry's admission easily meant the world to her; he missed her too! "You've been performing so well that I thought I ought to give you something special this year. Go ahead, try and decipher it. I know you love your puzzles."
Eagerly, she grabbed the nearest object, which was a honeycomb pattern wrapped into a cylinder. Her eyes narrowed, a slight glow betraying the pump of magic to enhance her sight as she skimmed the hundreds of three dimensional runes carved, forming the pylons between the vertices. "This is...a magic capsule?"
"Of sorts," Harry nodded with a proud smile, squeezing her shoulder like a proud father. Alana beamed at this affirmation, listening raptly as he elaborated, "it's based on an interesting titbit of magical knowledge. When an object untransfigures naturally, it actually releases some magic stored within it from transfiguration. Are you familiar with the concept of pumped storage hydroelectricity?"
Alana shook her head, ducked in shame. Harry gently lifted her chin with a reassuring smile. "You don't need to know everything, Alana. There's no shame in learning. Are you aware how an object gains potential energy as it is elevated? Good, so during the day, when less energy is needed, water is pumped up to a higher elevation, after which at night it is allowed to flow back down past turbines, generating electricity at night when it is needed more. This device operates on a similar concept. Try pumping some magic into it."
Concentrated, Alana focused on her magic, willing it to pump out. After several moments, she felt slightly woozy, though two strong hands firmly guided her into a seat. Looking up, she saw Harry looking at her with fond exasperation. Suddenly, she felt a rush of power as he placed his hands on her head. Somehow, Alana knew that Harry was channeling magic to her. In the few seconds it took, she went from borderline unconscious to fully energised.
"Now then, tell me, what do you see?" he encouraged, Alana looked back at the object and gasped, for where it was once hollow, now it had become fully solid silver.
"Is that…"
"Yes, you pumped quite a bit of magic, but it's designed to hold quite a lot. As you pump more, it channels itself into a transfiguration, which when untransfigured releases some of its power. Its applications are endless, imagine having these as walls in a room, such that any magic cast would be instantly rendered useless. This, of course, and that it does make a decent defence against magical surges," Harry confirmed. "Watch, it's slowly reverting."
Alana looked to see that the silver, while still present, was indeed beginning to shrink in on itself, as though peeling to reveal a fruit. The magic pouring out seeped into the air, creating a thick, dense feeling over it. "How efficient is this?"
"Sixty seven percent," Harry admitted. "It's not refined in any way."
Inwardly, Alana snorted. Anything Harry brought for show was at least polished to the standard of a perfectionist like her. She had seen what he considered 'acceptable' and it was truly humbling. Outwardly, however, she merely nodded along, raising a delicate eyebrow as he reached into his pocket, grabbed out several piles of shrunken parchment and placed in on the desk, tapping his hand on it to revert the charm and revealing several stacks of notes at least several hundred pages thick.
"Have a look," Harry encouraged, to which Alana immediately did so, scanning through the notes. They were extremely comprehensive, likely only so for her sake, and she soaked in each detail, flipping page after page as the realisation of what she was reading dawned on her.
"These are your three dimensional runes," she breathed out.
"Built on your universal runes, yes," Harry nodded. "I thought you'd be interested in having a look, I-"
She wrapped him in a tight hug, interrupting whatever he was about to say. Trying to contain her sobs, she projected feelings of gratitude, hoping that he could somehow sense it. With his passive legilimency, she was almost certain he would.
"Thank you," she professed, emotion thick in her voice. "This...this trust means a lot to me."
"I'm glad," Harry nodded, placing a kiss on her forehead "You're very important to me, Alana, I want you to know that."
"I...I have something for you as well," she admitted shyly, gaining some confidence at his encouraging smile. Taking his hand, she led him deeper into the workshop, where there was a large metal frame and several jets. At his confused look, she waved her hand at the machine, "3D printing!"
"I admit I'm not familiar with the technology, perhaps you could enlighten me?" he inquired. A part of Alana wondered whether this was for her sake, to encourage her confidence, but the main part of her mind was too happy at an opportunity to share her knowledge to care.
"This is the latest advancement in robotics. A printer basically takes a known design and produces it out. In the past, this has been with 2d print on paper, yet in the eighties, some people began to experiment with the idea of making it three dimensional. Essentially, a model can be sliced up into layers for analysis, and by stacking layers, produce three dimensional shapes," Alana lectured. "Normally, the main issue is the computing power required to generate these designs, the accuracy of the machine, as well as the weakness of the melted plastic used. However, with the advancements we've made, all three have been resolved to a satisfactory extent. I theorise that we could...well, we could mass produce runic designs."
Alana looked up hopefully to Harry, who merely stood still for several moments, unblinking. Just as she worried about having made a grievous miscalculation, he seemingly regained his composure, looking at her curiously.
"How long have you been looking into this technology?"
"Well...ever since you told me about your dream for three dimensional runes, really," she blushed. "Are you…I didn't do anything wrong, did I?"
"No, in fact, you have pleased me beyond what diction can dictate," Harry smiled, causing Alana's heart to skip a beat. "Is there anything you want? I'm feeling very generous right now?"
'A chance to be with you', Alana so desperately wanted to say. It was a pipe dream, of course. Men like Harry were driven by a greater purpose, a greater destiny, and could hardly afford to spend time thinking about family, which would inevitably turn into a liability, a weakness. Yet Alana knew that she would be willing to suffer through that, be it loneliness, humiliation or danger, just for a chance to be by his side. Instead, she merely shook her head. "I have everything I could possibly want, and it's all thanks to you, Harry."
"Hmm," he pursed his lips thoughtfully, a decision clearly weighing heavily on his mind. Alana wished she could somehow ease the worry lines that formed at this, but knew the best course of action was silence. Thus, she waited patiently until he spoke again. "Where's the containment chamber?"
"Just down this elevator," she answered, pressing a button under her desk, causing a wall panel to slide aside and reveal a waiting elevator. The two walked in, the doors quickly sliding shut and lowering them deep into the Earth. Alana was bubbly, knowing that she was in for something special, and tried to contain just how much her excitement showed.
As the door opened, the two stepped out, past an air lock, to arrive in a large, circular chamber, thirty meters tall and fifty meters in diameter. The wall was lined with tungsten, and unseen, there was a layer of lead, along with several more consisting of various super materials. That was not to mention the magical protections that were placed. Harry looked around, eyes glowing slightly, before he nodded approvingly.
"Tell me, Alana, what do you believe I am doing all this for?"
"To make the world a better place?" Alana postulated. Harry shrugged noncommittally.
"In essence," he conceded, "but more specifically, I want to proliferate magic. Think about it, every problem in both the muggle and magical world is fundamentally predicated on the lack of magic. In our world, we see inequality because some individuals are more powerful than others. There will be talents such as parseltongue or metamorphus that are simply a matter of being born to a particular lineage. Aptitude for magic, dependent on luck more than perseverance. In both worlds, a scarcity of resources that drives destructive conflict. All because of the lack of magic."
He took in a deep breath, giving Alana precious seconds to process everything that had been dumped on her. "What is magic? We've always assumed it was finite, and yet that doesn't seem to be the case. Ley lines have lasted far longer than recorded history, still continuing to pump out magic. And regardless of what blood purists say, it seems that muggleborns can develop the affinity for magic without costing society. This imbalance, challenging the very notion that scarcity is necessary. Are you aware of the basic economic problem?"
"Satisfying infinite wants and needs with finite resources."
"Good, good. And Maslow's hierarchy of needs?" Alana shook her head reluctantly. "Understandable. It's a muggle psychological analysis that suggests we have various types of needs, starting with the physiological ones such as food and water, moving up to safety, belonging, esteem and self-actualisation. We assume that the basic economic problem must be true because we constantly have needs and wants, yet delving deeper, it might be possible that we're actually lacking in higher needs such as self-actualisation, which means the problem is fundamentally not predicated on a scarcity of material resources, and thus rendering the axiomatic assumptions incorrect. Essentially, we limit our solutions because we fail to define the proper problem. I believe this is the same for our outlook on magic. We assume it is this constant, finite resource like energy, simply moving between states, despite the evidence to the contrary. On a macro level, we've seen magical spread across the world expand and contract over periods of time, and yet so focused on micro-issues, we assume that the scarcity and difficulties on a micro-level scales up to apply in the macro-outlook."
"And you believe that magic can be...created? Destroyed?" Alana frowned. "So it's not like energy, then."
"Ah, you must be referring to the first law of thermodynamics. Well, let me ask you this, how many places can an atom be at once?"
"One," Alana replied uncertainly. Harry shook his head.
"For most of our history we believed that, yet quantum theory begs to differ. Just like we believed atoms were the smallest fundamental unit until we now believe it to be quark. If these axiomatic beliefs can be proven wrong, then why not our current beliefs on the inherence of energy?"
"But the laws...they…"
"Are merely reflective of our current interpretation and extrapolation of patterns. The reality of nature does not care what we believe, it just is," Harry reminded. Alana nodded in acceptance.
"So you...you want to create magic?"
"In essence, yes," Harry nodded. "It is my belief, and I could be wrong, that magic is not bound by the concepts of finiteness. Much like the soul, it has elements of limits, yet it cannot be abstracted into our concept of numeration and division."
"You know something more, don't you?" Alana observed curiously. Harry nodded.
"Everything I've told you so far, I have told in full to only one other. But what I am about to tell you, while I might share fragments with others as necessary, will be kept strictly between us." Alana nodded in acceptance, and Harry continued. "Most believe magic to be an evolutionary quirk in muggles long ago. Yet this is false. If one searches the most ancient scraps of knowledge, they will find that long ago, when muggles were neanderthals, there was another race of beings, who I term as primordials, who wielded magic that would be incomprehensible today. Fundamentally, this was predicated on the seven base forms of magic, being Energy, Air, Water, Fire, Void, Earth and one lost to time."
"How do you...know this?"
"Harmonic resonances. Are you familiar with the concept?"
"In passing. I know this fringe theory suggests that magic has attunements that diverges from a central core."
"Sufficient for our discussion today," Harry assured. "Essentially, the theory was somewhat correct, except there are seven bases, not one. Each piece of magic can be distilled into a combination of seven values dictating its closeness to any base of magic."
"That...fundamentally changes our understanding of magic," Alana frowned. "What of...well, the mind arts, for instance?"
"A fair point," Harry commended, assuaaging her fears of having offended his sensibilities. "And I suspect that it has to do with the final pillar of magic, but before we even get to that, there is a more pertinent discussion to be had. Tell me, what has been the greatest problem in trying to extrapolate magic composition, aside from the assumption that there was one base rather than seven?"
"Error propagation," Alana answered easily. "It made any attempts in the field useless, because our magic was so far from its raw form that any trend could be wildly off. It basically made the theory non-falsifiable, and lost most of its credibility in mainstream academia."
"Stand behind me, would you?" Alana did as he bade, watching curiously as he tapped his wand to his throat, before producing a series of clacks that no human should have been able to make. Out from hands, two beams of black matter shot out, radiating a sense of wrongness so powerful Alana would have passed out were it not for occlumency, despite being somewhat shielded by Harry's magic. He made several different noises, eventually producing beams of different colours and feelings, until six orbs of near pure magic, for nothing else could replicate such an effect, orbited them.
"Harry?" she eyed worriedly as he wobbled slightly. He waved off his concern.
"Just a bit tired," he chuckled, the admission shocking Alana. In all her memory, he had never appeared remotely tired, let alone exhausted. "Tell me, what do you feel?"
"Magic," she breathed out. "This is...incredible...how…"
"Primordial magic, or what remnants are left on this planet," Harry confirmed. "The magic of the ancients."
"So this is...pure magic?"
"No," Harry shook his head. "All six magics are documented to have influenced history at various points. It's why ancient cultures worshipped such deities. There had to be something more...something greater, that caused those beings to ascend."
"Ascend?" Alana frowned. This was bordering on religious rhetoric, and were it not her adoration and respect for Harry, she might have disregarded what he said in its entirety.
"I do not believe it a coincidence that so many mythologies explore the concepts of heaven and hell. This is pure speculation, yet I believe that there are multiple planes of existence. The disappearance of the primordials could have been due to their ascension to another plane, much like the high elves supposedly did. But again, this is not pertinent to our discussion. What I'm focused on right now, is the possibility of further base magic."
"But you just...didn't you just say there were seven base elements?"
"I did," Harry smiled mysteriously, his look encouraging. Alana re-ran through the conversation, before her eyes widened.
"Like the quark theory?" He nodded simply. "And you...want us to investigate this?"
"I do," Harry nodded to Alana's question. "Perhaps these are the words of a madman looking for a prophesied land that doesn't exist. Perhaps, despite my best efforts, all of this will be in vain. I have naught but speculation and a dream. So I suppose there is only one question left."
"To the gates of hell and beyond," Alana swore. "In this life and the next, I'm yours, Harry."
Harry frowned as he felt his magic ripple slightly. Observing her, he could see Alana's magic almost...phasing, for a lack of a better word, forming an almost haunting parallel of his own. It was as though her magic were shifting to better compliment his...yet this should not have been...it merited further study, but for now, gave him the confidence he needed.
"Enter my mind," he instructed. Alana frowned, looking uneasy at the prospect, yet sent a legilimency probe. Latching on, he gently guided her to his mind, and began channeling his learnings in Taiwan and subsequent experiments. All the evidence, all the knowledge, he channeled to her, knowing full well she could one day rival or surpass him. It was a gamble, yet with so few people he could trust, he knew he could retain control of Alana securely.
When he finally finished, she gasped, clearly in pain at having to assimilate such knowledge. He conjured a chair, pulling her into his lap, stroking her hair with artificial affection as he whispered meaningless nothing to soothe her while he gently pressed his magic against hers, soothing the pain of assimilating foreign memories and thoughts. When she became coignant again, her look at him was one of pure adoration.
"My dear, I'm sorry you had to go through that," he whispered, lacing his voice with injected pain. She panicked, shaking her head.
"No, no, milord, the pain was nothing with your soothing. I have never been better in my life!"
"Truly, Alana, I must thank you. I doubt any other is so loyal," he praised, stroking her cheek, leaning down. Her eyes widened in anticipation, as he gently pressed his lips onto hers for several moments before pulling back. "I may never be yours, but know that I care for you, so very much."
There was a glaze in her eyes, adoration now bordering on fanaticism, if he deduced the gleam correctly. It was at that moment, he knew Alana Croft was truly his, and neither would have it any other way. Inwardly, Harry crowed.
-Break-
"General Ivarin, I-sergent, what is th-"
"The lines have been breached, you need to eva-" The room exploded into shrapnel as the roof caved in. All the missiles had been used up early in the war, either fired or destroyed, so naturally the Reds had decided to find some and use on her forward command centre. This was a problem for several reasons.
First, most of her senior command staff were now dead or severely injured, buried under a significant pile of rubble. This meant that she was basically going to have to take charge herself.
Two, the Reds' strength had been underestimated. This meant that their intelligence networks had failed, and that they were in far greater danger than initially thought. Unsurprising, given the assassination attempt on the Reds and Whites had failed spectacularly. They had also somehow gotten knowledge of her supposedly secret visit to this particular command centre, which was constantly shifting around, which meant the Reds had scarily accurate and up-to-date information.
Three, the Reds were determined to take her sector. Missiles were a valued commodity, and could have easily been used on high priority targets like the ministry of defence or parliament back in Warsaw. For them to use it on her command centre meant there was inevitably going to be a huge push here. Which meant she had very limited time to get some sort of defence ready.
Observing her surroundings, she quickly vanished most of the rubble around her, silently saying a prayer of thanks to Harry for drilling the instinct of casting a passive shield at all times into her. Climbing out, she stood atop the roof of the building, noting that there was heavy shelling of the front lines a mere few kilometers ahead.
More concerningly, a push of tanks and infantry that were likely going unnoticed by the defenders taking cover, not helped by the smokescreen deployed. Leaping off the building, she grabbed a startled sergeant, slapping him out of his shock. A pang of legilimency gave her the man's name. "Czarnecki! Go to the front and tell them to pull back. They're going to get encircled! You, get me a radio!"
The two other soldiers quickly grabbed a unit, handing it to her. Dialing in the frequency, she barked, "This is Ira, code three-three-four-two, sector five is under attack! All available units to reinforce!"
Not waiting to confirm, she turned to see the sergeant still frozen into shock. Slapping the man, she barked, "Go!
The man sprang into action, instincts taking over. Thankful for that, she quickly rushed through the communication trenches. Entering a medical section, she barked, "Every person able to fight, grab weapons and follow me now!"
She repeated the process several times over, bursting into bunkers and yanking men out by their collars to follow her. Combined with the trickle of soldiers retreating from the front lines, it meant she now had probably just shy of a thousand soldiers in various states of readiness.
"Listen up! The Reds are throwing everything they have into this sector. If they break through, they'll make it to Krakow within a week. That will happen over my dead body. We don't have the resources to stop them, so here's what's going to happen. We're going to break through the Russian lines, and we're going to fuck their rear so hard they'll be limping back to Moscow. Who's with me?"
"Hoorah!" her men cried out, and she smiled despite the guilt weighing in her. There were tens of thousands of men still in the forward trenches, likely completely unaware they were about to be slaughtered. There was still the wounded back at the command centre she just escaped from. But Ira knew that if she didn't act now, then all would be lost.
Allowing several moments for various NCOs to quickly grab various men and women into make-shift units while scrambling for any equipment within the vicinity, she took out her binoculars and looked forward to see that the first elements of the Russians were leaping into the trenches. And while it was impossible, Ira swore she heard the screams of panicked Polish defenders being massacred. But she steeled her heart. They would have to hold out until reinforcements arrived. If she could just punch hard enough to cut off this section of the Reds, they would buy time so desperately needed for the other sectors to recover from the brutal attrition.
They moved parallel to the trenches for several minutes, the resolve of many of the soldiers cracking at the sound of panicked screams and fighting, yet none dared disobey, continuing the march until they were in a section with only sporadic fighting.
Nodding resolutely to her second in command pro-tempore, a colonel, they quietly crept through the smoke, until passing it entirely, to see empty plains. Turning to her soldiers, she nodded resolutely. "Burn everything. No prisoners."
Nodding in understanding, the various NCOs led their units into separate directions, knowing most would not return. But from their determined looks, she knew that the Russians would pay dearly for every Pole they managed to kill. She herself looked for a moment of opportunity when she was alone, and quietly disapparated back to her ruined command centre. Looking around, she saw a shocked officer and immediately sent a bullet into his head. Despite the slight guilt, she could not afford to be exposed.
Continuing down the rear trenches, she found herself in a small alcove with artillery officers lounging about, clearly unaware of the battle going on ahead. "Up!"
Several lazily turned, before quickly snapping to attention at the sight of her. "To your stations, fire when ready!"
"Targets, ma'am?" the battalion commander questioned. With a grimace, she answered.
"Our trenches."
"You heard the general, lads. To your stations!" the man barked after several looked mutinous. Knowing that the officer would ensure her orders were carried out, she hurried along the trenches, giving several other artillery battalions the same command. Soon, the air was thundering with the sound of shells being fired.
This was going to be a long day, but she forced herself onward. Her soldiers were counting on her.
Bloody Christmas.
-Break-
'Harry, would now be a bad time?'
'There are worse moments. I confess my curiosity as to why you decided to attack the ICW. I admit I'm not sure what you hoped to gain from it,' Harry penned, a smile forming on his face. The journal projected anger, radiating annoyance in spades.
'As strange as this may sound, I did not orchestrate that. My influence in the body was significant, and much as you pointed out, there was little to gain for me. I was hoping for your angle on this.'
'The most obvious suspect would be Grindelwald. The ICW represents a current threat, and you a future threat. Very few others actually would be willing to involve themselves.'
'That is my belief as well.'
'Have you considered the Russians? This does fit their M.O., even if I'm at a loss of how they managed to infiltrate the ICW. It's obvious to anyone with half a brain that you were going to attack them.'
'That is...an interesting point. However, I don't think that is likely. The Russians, as you say, do not have the resources to pull such a feat off, nor would they risk it, already being on the decline. My spies have confirmed their weakness.' Harry smiled once again, pleased that the Russians would not be attacked for now. He had plans for them in the future, afterall. That Voldemort thought she was successfully bluffing him also confirmed that she remained unaware of their true strength.
'Then I defer to you on that matter. I admittedly haven't the resources to penetrate the Russians' anti-intelligence," Harry penned. There was a slight pause before the ink formed again.
'Have you any leads on his magic?'
'Some ideas. I had the pleasure of looking at some ancient Chinese artifacts over Yule. Nothing definitive though, I suspect that Anatolia or Iberia will contain the true clues. My connections in those places are lacking, which means I've been struggling to get access to what I need.'
'Curious, I've been looking at Anatolia myself, with little success. Perhaps I shall consider a visit to Iberia, if that is your suggestion?'
'I do. I myself will try to have a look at Africa. Uagadou's wandless magic seems the closest hint.'
'Africa? I confess myself disappointed that you're now chasing rumours,' the ink flowed. Harry chuckled inwardly at the goad. He was far above such petty emotions as pride, and she'd practically admitted to her helplessness with that single taunt.
'Then I'm sorry to disappoint you. I simply don't have the resources you possess.'
'True. Too often I forget your position. I apologise for that.'
'I'm rather flattered. Do keep me updated.'
'Likewise.'
-Brelast two scenes were definitely k-
Lily Potter woke with a start as she realised there was something bouncing on her chest. With a groan, she opened her bleary eyes, to be met by mischievous brown eyes. "Ugh, Rose, what do you want?"
"Christmas!" the young girl cheered, the loudness causing Lily's ears to ring slightly. "Wake up!"
"What time is it?"
"Four!" her daughter giggled happily, causing her to groan again.
"And pray tell, why couldn't you wait until a sane time? Where's your father anyways?" she asked with a drowsy voice. Immediately, Rose became more morose, some of the festive cheer disappearing.
"He's stuck in France, remember?"
"Oh," Lily mused dumbly, now fully awake as she saw Rose fighting off tears. Guiltily, she realised her daughter must have been trying to replicate James' tradition of waking them up early every Christmas. "Well then, let's go get presents."
Lily wasn't certain whether Rose heard the crack in her voice and simply brightened for her sake, or whether she had truly bought her paltry act, but mother and daughter walked hand in hand to the living room, where a small christmas tree had been set up, and a variety of presents had been set out by the house elves into neat piles. Lily frowned when she saw there were four, blinking twice to see if her sight was failing her. Rose clearly saw her confusion.
"Dad and I...we thought…" her voice cracked, "we thought we'd keep presents for Harry every year. That way he knows we always thought of him."
"Oh," Lily nodded morosely, tears welling up in her eyes. She blinked them away, though it was a struggle. She knew her daughter was counting on her to be strong, and Lily refused to fail the only child she had left.
-Break-
"I'm really sorry about this," Celeste shook her head sadly as James continued to pour through reports. She wondered if he even heard her enter the office, ever since he had been told he would have to stay for Christmas, he had locked himself in his office. She hadn't even been able to drag him to the small party those in similar situations were hosting at the ministry to commiserate.
"It's not your fault," the man shook his head. "Someone needs to stay, I'm just glad the others got to celebrate."
"I tried to tell them I could hold the fort, you know?" Celeste continued. She needed him to know she had tried everything to get him home for Christmas. But even the shitstorm she conjured didn't dissuade the unsympathetic ministry bureaucrat, and the chief had merely given the two sympathetic looks before leaving for his own family.
"I know," James smiled tiredly, looking up from his papers. "I appreciate it, but we have each other, right?"
"Right," she nodded, grabbing a seat and pulling it next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. "So anything I can do to convince you to get out of this office? No one should be working on Christmas night."
"Might as well," James shrugged. "Keeps my mind occupied, don't need to think about anything else."
"James…" Celeste tried to find the words. Unable to, she merely hugged the man, who stiffened at the contact before relaxing.
"No, it's our duty. We stay here so other families can celebrate in peace," James shrugged. "I just hope this bloody war ends so we can go back to our lives."
Celeste sighed. "Don't we all?"
Author Note:
Welcome back to another chapter! This one was definitely a challenge to write. So many things I could have shoved in Yule, I ended up having to prioritise certain scenes over others. Slightly behind where I hoped we would be, but definitely by the second week of August we'll be starting on the tournament arc, yay! This was definitely more intimate and personal compared to the prior chapter, so I wanted to take a bit of time to explain what we saw.
With Alana, we see more of Raven coming out, with him laying the bait, pretending to hesitate and even kissing her at the end to tempt her. I intentially wrote it from Alana's perspective for most of the segment to highlight how she feels towards Harry, which is why you might feel there are bits missing. She isn't as observant as Harry, which means details we assume, she doesn't notice, especially being so emotionally charged from Harry's surprise.
Ira and the Russians gives us some insight into the rather chaotic state of the muggle world, as well develops Ira's character. She's ruthless, not hesitating to kill or abandon her comrades for a 'greater good'. It also serves as a good tease for phase 3. Alas, with her now being a general, she's rarely going to be in the thick of fighting, which is why scenes involving her have declined compared to prior.
The diary scene between Harry and Emily, while short, illustrates both the tension and deception both employ, yet also hints of a mutual trust and respect. The relationship between the four titans is going to start seeing major wordcount in the future, because fundamentally its a struggle between the four and their visions for the world.
The two final scenes were some exploration at the reality of war. War isn't pretty, it isn't meant to be. It isn't some glorious struggle as portrayed in propoganda, and anything that tries to tell you otherwise is deceitful. I'm not saying you can't fight for something greater, or something right, but war isn't clean and honourable. With this section has been remarkably light in such scenes compared to phase 1, I thought, what better chance will I have to explore the emotional toll of war. Seeing loved ones, something many of us take for granted, could just as easily be deprived in war. It isn't a matter of life and death, but important nonetheless, and something I hoped to bring up.
With all of that said, thank you all for your continued support, both on here and discord! To address Ignotus Redwood's point, I definitely agree Taiwan could have been something much better, but I wanted to avoid Game of Thrones syndrome and end up spending 3-4 chapters just exploring it, when in the grand scheme of things, it isn't needed for the plot. I promise that some of the research I did will be incorporated in the future, notably in phase 3, so it isn't a total loss! I'm admittedly not familiar with the Assassin Creed series (I assume that's what you're talking about?), but I don't think that's the direction I'm necessarily heading in right now. I haven't planned any mcguffin hunts, so this isn't going to turn into a four way race to get an infinity stone or anything like that. I'd be curious to learn more about the assassin precursors though, the only experience with the series I had was the really confusing movie, so needless to say I probably have an unfairly negative impression. Thanks for the comment!
Before I sign off, I want to encourage everyone once again to join the discord. To sweeten the deal, I've revealled all eleven tier 1 schools and given a brief bio of them, along with an extra twelfth. There's already been several interesting discussions, and I look forward to many more!
As always, if you enjoyed, consider following and favouriting. It shows your appreciation for the hard work that goes into writing this fanfic. Your encouragement is what makes writing through certain slogs bearable, so keep the positive vibes coming! Liked something? Disliked something? Just want to say hi? Leave a comment, be it here or on discord! Engagement and discussion is half the fun! Until next time, toodles!
