Harry was manipulating eight spells with his fingertips when the knock came. He had asked the other castle occupants to leave him be at breakfast, thus he knew that it had to be important. Even as he continued to attempt to layer protections around the ring he was creating as his masterpiece, he stated it was acceptable to enter.
Cedric walked into Harry's Room as most had started to call it since the young man had started on his masterpiece over a month ago. Covered in scraps of parchment with dozens of diagrams and runic combinations, with vials of various potions and ingredients at home in racks in the corners, it was the circular depression in the center of the floor that interested the former Hufflepuff. In the center of the depression, a thick cushion sat, with his quarry perched upon it. Hovering above him a bright silver ring was flashing with magic as Harry twitched his fingers.
Cedric was an extremely gifted wizard, and highly educated about enchanting materials. Merely watching for a few seconds told him exactly what Harry was attempting; the complete Hornshe Protection Arrangement was an enchantment that was unique in that it was layered and anchored to the piece instead of woven into it as the piece was made. Normally only touched on briefly in seventh year Ancient Runes, as it was inspired by a runic protection found in a tomb in Norway, it was far beyond any student that would study in those hallowed halls. Cedric was certain that of the professors in the castle only four or five would be able to attempt it, let alone achieve it as he was certain Potter did as the ring flashed a dull gold and fell into his waiting palm.
"Is there something you needed Ced?" Harry asked as he looked over his shoulder, the bags under his eyes unhidden by the glamours he normally applied before meals. Cedric noted the tired appearance of his temporary boss, before nodding.
"Yes, I have news from the Auror corps. They have not discovered what was taken, though Scrimgeour suspects that it was primarily Auror rosters, schedules or memos stolen or duplicated."
Harry was silent as he mentally went through what he knew of Hermione. "It would be a duplication. Also, assume all information in the room was duplicated. Hermione is thorough, she wouldn't leave anything that could be useful behind. If she didn't know if it would be, she would take it anyway. What of the casualties? Was it established which group killed the aurors?" Auror Thomas was sadly killed by his injuries in St. Mungo's after the blood clotting curse was dispelled. The mediwizards could not save him from the cutting curse that seemingly worsened by the blood clotting curse.
"The Auror's are unsure. Brutus was too badly charred by his last-ditch effort to identify the magic used to kill him, if any was. Thomas' injuries match with a dark cutting curse that Dolohov used commonly in the previous war, however Dolohov's father learned it from Volksky and Charum, the twins of Grindlewald, and it was common for the Lieutenants to share spells like that. Speaking of the twins, a team of ICW Hunters found, and engaged them while they were scouting an island with what appears to be a team of ten. The twins died in the conflict; however, it does confirm that Grindelwald is active once more." Cedric reported the barest details of the ICW skirmish. He didn't mention that the twins were the only deaths on Grindelwald's side, or that the entire ICW team was killed. Harry wouldn't care, nor did he need to know the information.
Harry nodded his head, as he processed the information. "Any news on Voldemort?"
Cedric shook his head. "Death Eater activity has completely ceased. There hasn't even been an attack on muggles or muggleborns in the last two weeks." The former Hufflepuff leaned against the doorway as Harry proceeded to think. The duo was silent for several minutes before the youngest spoke.
"Voldemort is planning something. Something that if he pulls it off will be disastrous. Have we spoken with Snape?"
Cedric nodded, having met with the Headmaster and the Potion Master before visiting the last Potter. "He is being left out deliberately. Was told that to his face, by the big bad himself. Said that this mission was too critical for any information to make its way to Dumbledore even by accident."
Harry stood gingerly, before sighing. "He must be preparing the ritual. It is nearly Samhain, and all the previous Death Eater activities were gathering of ingredients." Harry was careful to not mention Fleur or Diagon Alley, yet he still noticed Cedric's knuckles tighten on his forearms. "We set up wards around the Fairy Circle in the Puzzlewood Forest, and the Hellfire Caves are being watched by Order members. Shade's Rock is suicidal for him, same as the Isle of Man. That leaves Azkaban and the Tower of London. Of them, Azkaban is the most likely, simply because of the Dementors being a highly effective defense if they will obey him." Harry glanced back to his room as he started to walk after Cedric.
"We will need to strike a decisive blow to him whenever he makes his move."
Neville Longbottom was, in many ways, the antithesis of your standard pureblooded wizard. He loved to work with his hands, enjoyed the feeling of dirt under his nails, and the satisfaction of watching his hard work produce greatness. It was one reason he loved Herbology. Well, that and the natural application of the Longbottom family aptitude towards terra-based magics. However, today was yet enough example of his hard work paying off with great results.
He shifted to the left as the rush of red flashed by his shoulder. A flick of his wand and the very ground answered his call; a line of razor-sharp rocks rushed towards his opponent. An opponent who transfigured a wall around her, before it was destroyed with a well-placed bombarda charm. The shards shifted in midair, turning into chains that trapped the woman firmly. Three spells impacted the chains, first making it so that they would constrict no matter the situation, one making them unbreakable and the other making them immune to further magical effects by any but himself.
The clapping of his Grandmother cut through the silence of the room. With several flicks, Neville released Minerva McGonagall from the chains and smiled brightly as she placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Mister Longbottom, I am extremely proud of the effort you have put forward these last months. I dare say that there are few in all of Hogwarts who would wish to cross wands with you, especially after that masterful display." His head of house was rarely open with praise, thus when received it was extremely impactful. He glanced back towards his grandmother.
Her smile was soft and warm, and the sentence she spoke gave him a choked feeling in his chest.
"Your parents couldn't have done better Neville."
He remembered when these lessons started nearly a year ago today. He had approached his grandmother to teach him to survive now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned. However, it was the Ministry Fiasco that pushed him to train harder than he had ever thought possible. While previously, he was possibly the third or fourth-best duelist in the defensive club that Hermione created, after dedication and some tips from Sirius Black and Harry Potter, he had grown. He was certain that he could at least survive against any singular opponent long enough to flee, which was his grandmother's requirement.
"I am curious however Mister Longbottom, what has pushed you so?" The head of Gryffindor house asked him. The question caused him to remember the conversation he had with Sirius Black; the conversation that he would treasure for the rest of his life and would eventually pass on to his children.
The Longbottom Halls were as beautiful as Sirius remembered, at least that is what he vocalized as he exited the floo two minutes early for his meeting with Neville. His grandmother was never formally part of the Order of the Phoenix in its first iteration, but even she knew exactly who Sirius Black was. The Grim was infamous in pureblood circles; the man who held no mercy for those who attacked others, and the deadliest surviving member of the Light. It was that reputation that sparked the conversation they were about to have, alongside what Neville saw Sirius do in the Ministry of Magic.
"I am overjoyed to discover that my home has failed to disappoint. Come, we shall adjourn towards the study." Turning on his heel, he led the way, noting that Sirius' footsteps were sure and steady behind him, barely far enough back to be polite. Once they were settled into the comfy chairs by the fireplace in the study; even Neville did not wish to risk touching the desk before his majority, Sirius asked the obvious question.
"So, what do you need sport? Harry mentioned that you two talked before the end of the year but didn't say much else." Sirius leaned back in the over fluffed chair, his eyes on Neville and his expression relaxed.
Neville opened his mouth to speak, paused and leaned forward bracing his elbows on his knees as he stared into the cold fireplace. "My earliest memory is of Gran taking me to see Mum and Dad. It was after a new treatment was tried, and while mum was the same, Dad… Dad rubbed my head. He ruffled my hair. He didn't say a word, but he must of recognized me at some level. That, to this day, is the only memory I have of my dad knowing who I am. My mum, even if she doesn't say anything always has something for me; a wrapper or a sheet of parchment with scribbles on it. Once, she even wrote mummy on wrapper. Dad?..." Neville paused and took a deep breath. "For years, Gran compared me to my Dad. It was recently that we actually spoke about it, and she explained that it was her way of pushing me and telling me about him. My parents were- are, war heroes." Neville finally looked away from the fireplace and looked at Sirius, "I just don't understand why."
Sirius raised a single eyebrow, urging Neville to continue. "Sirius, what is this war about? I know You-Know-Who is bad, terrible even, but why do people follow him? Follow him to the point that they'd do what they did to my parents? Why do you fight them so ferociously? Gran said that they were protecting me, but I wasn't around when they started…" He trailed off as Sirius held up a hand.
Sirius sighed as he shifted closer to Neville. "I guess I understand why you wanted to talk to me… This is deeper than just wanting to know why what happened to your family did, but it will affect if you join this war or not. Don't,"He held up a hand again as soon as Neville opened his mouth,"attempt to deny it. We both know better." Sirius smiled ruefully before he stood. He paced in front of the fireplace as he started to talk.
"To explain why they follow Voldemort, you have to understand the image he projects to his followers. He…" Sirius trailed off, before starting again. "I grew up in House Black. One of my first memories was playing with my brother Regulus in the park outside our London Townhouse and kicking a ball with a muggle neighbor. When we returned to our home, we were excited to tell our parents about the new friend we made. As soon as my mother discovered that it was a muggle boy, she slapped me hard enough that my lip split. I was then held by her and told that she only did that to make me understand… understand that muggles and muggleborn were beneath me as a member of the House of Black, and as its potential Heir. I remembered Regulus' face over my mother's shoulder, looking horrified at what he saw. As we grew up, he saw much worse." Sirius refused to look at Neville as he spoke, knowing the look he would receive.
"At the age of eleven, I received my Hogwarts letter, and I was ecstatic. I would be free of the abuse of my mother, merely because I disagreed with the idea that muggleborns and muggles should be eradicated." Neville gasped, he had been aware that the Black family were extremely anti-muggle and anti-muggleborn, but to go as far as to believe in their complete eradication… "While my family toned down the rhetoric in front of all nonfamily members, all but my Grandfather shared that sentiment. Such views, even then, would have been too drastic for even the most conservative of households. All the children were raised hearing of their superiority, of their place in the magical world and how those below them should be treated. Occasionally, one of my cousins would arrange a demonstration; those were always special occasions for the family." He sneered before moving on. "When I boarded the Hogwarts Express that first time, my mind was a mess. I knew that I didn't believe what my family did; but how far did I go on the spectrum? Did muggleborns deserve the same rights and abilities as the families that built our society? I struggled with that for the whole of first year, even as I gained lifelong friends in Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and James Potter. Even as I was sorted into Gryffindor; the first Black to be sorted anywhere other than Slytherin in over three centuries. Even as my family started to ostracize me for my house, and my housemates kept a distance due to my family name. I won't tell you what answer I came up with for myself, I think it fairly obvious." Sirius smirked as Neville chuckled. He waiting a moment before continuing. "Once I discovered what I believed in, I asked myself a question. I actually ended up asking this question to my family, my friends and even Headmaster Dumbledore himself. I asked, how far are you willing to go to see the world you envisioned become reality?"
Sirius leaned against the hearth, and crossed his arms, his eyes far away. "When I asked that question to my family, their answers were horrid. Bellatrix said that she would watch the world burn, merely to have it rebuilt from the ashes. My mother… said if it meant that all her visions were true, then she did not care what bodies piled up. I expressed my shock too openly and received my first taste of a torture curse. She believed that I was mocking her, in front of the family, thus my punishment had to be appropriate. As she lifted the curse, I disarmed her. And the argument that ended in my running away from there began. I was sixteen and went to the only place I could think of, Potter Manor."
"When I asked my friends, we joked and made it light. Yet even now, looking back, I believe that was when Peter started to think about joining Voldemort. I know it was when James started to take maturing seriously and started to study his family Grimoire more. That was also when Remus started to rein us in more; he had his moral lines already drawn you see. It was before winter break, after an incident that I won't go into that I ended up talking to Headmaster Dumbledore. I had detentions with him for the rest of the year because of the incident, and I deserved them. It was during one of those detentions that I asked him the same question that I had asked so many other people."
"Dumbledore's answer is one that I hold in my heart to this day. He said that most magical aspect of people, isn't their capability to perform magic or lack thereof, it is what they are capable of in pursuit of their dreams and aspirations. He posed a counter-question for me. If you had everything you could dream of, right now at your fingertips, would you know what to do with it? Of course not. We, on the most basic level, understand this to be true, thus we create dreams and aspirations so far out that we are unsure the steps to actually achieve them. How does a first year become the Minister of Magic? Of course, when presented with such a grandiose vision, grandiose actions are required correct? That Neville, is why those who follow Voldemort do what they do. They believe so harshly in the vision of Voldemort's future, either the truth of it or their perception, that they are willing to do whatever he bids. He claims to have a plan, a plan to create this reality. Dumbledore didn't explain that part to me, but he shifted my perspective. I shouldn't ask what I am willing to do to make something happen, I should ask myself what steps I must do to make something true." He smiled slightly at the confused look on Neville's face. He remembered wearing a similar facial expression when the Headmaster dropped that wisdom on him.
"Whatever it takes. There is no limit. Those are all false bravado saying from those who aren't willing to think about what they are truly asking of themselves. You want to know why people are fighting and have fought in this war? It is because to them, the vision that Voldemort and his followers are pushing forward is so abhorrent that they could not sit idly by and allow it to be created. Even if they agreed with the basic principles of blood purity, and some of the Order did, they felt that Voldemort was wrong. Thus they fought. It was and is the same with Grindelwald and his followers. So, Neville, I will ask you the right question, the one that your grandmother should have asked you. Are you informed enough of your own vision to decide on if their vision is something you oppose? If you are, what steps are you willing to take, to make sure their dream stays just that?"
Sirius was silent after that, leaving soon after when Neville appeared deep in thought.
Neville took a few weeks to sort out what he dreamed about in the future, and what steps he was willing to take to make that dream true. He realized then that he understood what his Gran was saying; his parents were fighting for him even before his birth. They were fighting for their vision of the future, where he could experience talking to muggles and gain new perspectives from his muggleborn friends. And that was what he decided as well; he wanted his future children to be able to choose who to be around. To be able to broaden their perspectives and their experiences beyond the strictly magical. He even laid down rules for himself; he would only kill in self-defense, he would always attempt to save innocent lives. And if necessary, he would lay down his life for that concept.
"I asked myself that same question Professor. Why is this important to me? Why was this important to my parents? I discovered that I wanted a world where it didn't matter who or where you came from. It didn't matter what your parentage was, nor what your family name was. I want a world where my children can someday choose who they interact with and choose what it means to them. I want the ability to choose my path, and that is something precious Professor." Minerva nodded solemnly as she smiled widely.
"Godric Gryffindor once said in one of his final speeches as Head of Hogwarts, that while it takes courage to choose a path, it is a fundamental right to have the ability to do so." Minerva held that belief to her heart personally. Once she was certain that Neville had internalized that quote, she nodded and bid them both farewell. As soon as the transfiguration mistress was gone, Neville turned towards his grandmother.
"Gran-" He started before she interrupted. Her face was sad, but her smile made her dark eyes twinkle.
"I know. I knew as soon as you focused after your conversation with Sirius Black. You decided the same thing my boy did. Your father would be proud of you. Your mother would hug you, and say she was worried even as she agreed with him." Augusta Longbottom turned on her heel and started to walk out of the training room. "Come Neville. Tis time for this old lady to teach you the ways of the Longbottom." A quick glance back had her add, "The magical ways. While you are well-versed in your familial aptitude, I will pass on the intricacies. Come along. I require tea before teaching as you are aware."
Adrian Frankenstein could say he was many things. He was a mind that was on par with the greatest to exist. He was a scholar, a warrior, a general, husband, mentor, and even worshipped by some as a deity. He did not enjoy the latter as much as some would expect, but that was always their issue. The general masses always judged him; first as a monster for being born with magic, then as the apprentice of the Alchemist, then as the man who Gellert made his First Lieutenant. He learned early on that other people's judgment did not serve him at all.
However, he could say without a shadow of a doubt that the man who created dementors, was a freakish demonic monster of a man. He glanced back at his legion; he shook his head slightly, they weren't his legion. The First Legion was busy protecting Lord Grindelwald. This was Sonja's legion, the Fourth Legion, and it was led by the most promising General to come out of the modern iteration of the Sternritter. As the legion or ten of the seventeen remaining magicals of the legion all shivered, Adrian turned back to the swiftly approaching island of Azkaban.
A rocky crag in the North Sea, with a fortress with three towers on the highest point of the island that served as the prison and, according to the records that his Lord had access to, used to serve as a secondary housing for the Ministry of Magic before it was hostilely taken by a Dark Lord in 1302. When it was finally recaptured, it was discovered that there was a Nest of Dementors in the dungeons.
Its role as ministry option b was quickly dropped, and it was converted fully into a prison in 1718, after centuries of waffling and attempts to remove the Nest. Adrian sneered as the boat bumped the shore.
It was typical of him to do what entire governments proved themselves incapable of. He raised his hand, two fingers pointing into the air. With a swift point, the legion quietly moved forward.
Adrian smiled as they worked on identifying the wards and a general survey of the area. While the map and schematics of Azkaban they had procured before leaving the main army were supposedly accurate, he and his general Hermione felt that a probing force was a good idea. The schematics themselves were over fifty years old, and while wizards rarely changed things that were working, Azkaban could be an exception to that rule. Adrian flicked his eyes to the dementors that were floating above them, yet seemingly not noticing them, as they were too low on the island still.
Several hours of examination of the wards and several mapping spells that gave accuracy to the map that their Lord provided; the group was back on the boat. Adrian tapped the wood with his wand, and in a blue flash, the legion was gone.
Padma smiled warmly at the sheets of parchment in her lap. She wasn't sure how it happened but she knew when it began. It started in the hospital wing as she lay there with her leg bones regrowing. She was in pain, and the only one to visit her before he showed up was her sister.
That was a consequence of being in Ravenclaw she supposed; she had friends in her house of course. However, it was exam week, and even she was panicked about missing her exams. She knew her housemates wouldn't visit; she wouldn't have in that situation. But to say it didn't hurt a little bit to not receive any visitors as she laid there, would also be a lie.
Then he showed up. Just like in the ministry, he arrived without fanfare, without any flashy entrances, he just strode into the wing as if he owned it, and sat by her bedside.
"How are you feeling?" His words were typical, but his tone held multitudes of feelings behind it. Padma could decipher only a few of them in those four words.
"Like my knee is slowly regrowing after Madam Pomfrey vanished it." The matron had offered a choice; the curse could be countered, and then intensive therapy would be utilized to repair any damage on her leg, or she could vanish all the bones in her leg from the hip down and regrow them with a few doses of potions. A choice between months of moderate to light pain, or a week of higher levels of pain. She didn't regret her choice.
He smiled a sheepish smile, and for a moment, she was reminded that he was only a few months younger than her. She smiled back and he took it as an invitation to speak more.
"I'm sorry, that was a seemingly stupid question. I meant on an emotional level more so a physical one, though… if you'd like, I can help with that." His eyes sparkled in mischievous fashion, their lush emerald taking her breath away momentarily. She felt her face heat slightly as she stuttered out an affirmative.
His wand was in his hand and a light tap on her hip, suddenly the pain ceased. Her mind suddenly cleared, and she looked at him in awe. Awe that quickly evaporated from the look on his face. A grimace was present, and even as she watched the veins in his left temple pulsed in rhythm to his breathing. Both were rapid, until maybe a minute later, it slowly eased. The tension in his body slowly unwound, and his breathing evened out. He gave a small tired smile.
"Sorry if that scared you… That was a spell from my family. It allows a person to, for lack of a better term, share, their pain with another. You are still aware of the pain, it is still present if you look for it, but so long as I am within eyesight, and so long as we both are awake, I have taken the brunt of your pain." He shrugged at her look.
Padma shook her head at him, "You really don't get how incredible that is do you?" His frown spoke better than any words he could have said.
"Basically what you just said is that your family created a spell that forms a neurological link to your target, that allows you to isolate and alleviate to an extent, the pain that target feels, in exchange for a simulated feeling of that pain on yourself, that either you have extremely great pain tolerance for, or is felt at a rapidly accelerated and possibly elevated rate. Which is it Harry Potter?" Her tone of voice went from lecturing when she began her rant, to a tone that commanded her audience. He merely smiled. "Familial Secret luv."
Her heart skipped a beat when he casually called her luv, his eyes bright and his smile soft. She didn't know it, but she smiled back, and their conversation was light from there.
That was months ago now; she could remember the conversations they shared word for word, and now, she had physical proof that it wasn't a dream. This letter was one of dozens that the two had shared over the summer. She told him of her family, and their feelings on the world right now, and he told her of his struggles to create something that he had dreamed about as a younger wizard. They touched on topics such as their favorites and she learned that he had grown distant from his previous best friends, largely because of the workload he undertook as Professor Flamel's Apprentice. He learned that she had been single for over a year; that her previous relationship ended horribly after the Dark Lord returned and her boyfriend Trevor turned out to be a blood purist. He never asked her out, though that was understandable, but they did promise to spend time with each other throughout the year.
This letter, however, was different. It was written with haste and urged her and her family to go to school early. It had arrived a little over a week previously, and due to her activities with said family, she didn't get a chance to read it. Luckily, the date that he recommended was only a few days before term started so she still had time to convince her parents.
That explained her hand raising to knock on the door to her parents' study. A hardwood floor covered in rugs, with walls covered in books, the room also served as the Patil family library in Britain and was a place she had many fond memories. She remembered being a young girl, sitting in the armchair by the fireplace as her mother read to her various stories from her native India. Her sister, always more of a daddy's girl, would sit on her father's lap as he went through the paperwork for their import and export business. A similar sight awaited her as she entered the room; her father sat at the desk, with several sheets of parchment and paperwork in front of him, while her mother read a book by the fireplace in a sliver of warm sunlight from the open window. Her sister was spread about the rug in front of the window, seemingly doing homework that Padma completed on the first week of the holiday.
"Mother. Father. I have a request." Her father finished writing his word before looking up at her, his bushy mustache and thick eyebrows making his face harsh. His voice, deeper than her own, but holding the same poise.
"So long as you aren't asking for my first born again, I think I can consider it." The serious tone was broken by the smile on his lips as he referenced a time when she was nine and he asked what he could give to make a small injury go away.
"Nothing like that father!" Her blush made her mother laugh and her sister to smile as she continued to pretend to do homework. "I wanted to go to Hogwarts early."
Her father blinked, and his head tilted. "I see. Is it concerning safety?" Padma immediately shook her head, making him nod. "I see. It must therefore be concerning that boy you have been writing all summer, yes? Harry Potter?"
Padma looked down slightly as she nodded, her face red with embarrassment. She didn't think her father knew that she was writing to a boy, let alone a boy who was as famous as Harry Potter. Her sister wasn't even pretending to do homework, and merely looked at her in shock.
"Good. When he came over and visited earlier this week while you and your sister were out, your mother and I were most confused. That was until he explained himself and asked if you could attend his masterpiece creation ceremony. You apparently had not responded in time for an official invitation to attend." Her father looked at her warmly, as her heart raced in her chest. To see a masterpiece created was an honor that few were ever granted. Her name would be on the list of those who oversaw the practice; something was commonly reserved for family, mentors and required guests.
"Your mother and I of course said you would be attending. I suspected it would be sooner that you approached me but, I digress." With an act that was more similar to her sister, Padma rushed to hug her father, mumbling thank you into his shoulder as he hugged her tight.
"I don't know if you like this boy my sweet. But he is a special one." He whispered into her ear as they hugged. She merely nodded, before her sister pulled her away.
"Come on sis, we gotta figure out what you are gonna wear! And don't think for a sec, you are getting away with not telling me about you and Harry!" Padma was dragged from the room by her sister's enthusiasm, her father and mother laughing at her the entire time.
Three days before the start of term, two days before the students arrived, Harry was pacing in his extravagant violet robes. He didn't want to do this ceremony at all if he was being frank with himself; there was a war going on, why the hell were they standing on pomp and circumstance about an item he was creating? His Master explained it as it is required for it to be a masterpiece, and to grant him his freedom. He was to invite people, people to watch him perform a magical miracle. He invited Sirius and Remus, who asked if he could bring a woman named Nymphadora Tonks, which spiraled somehow into having her mother and father present. He invited the Weasleys, who all accepted, even Bill who was still not himself after the attack on Diagon Alley. He wasn't sure why he did it, but it took all his courage to write the letter and send it off, but he invited Padma Patil. As all invitations were traditionally sent two weeks before the event, hers was as well.
She was the only one that didn't write back. He waited a week, before his anxiety about her not writing back pushed him to act. He broke into McGonagall's office, looked at the book of records that she kept during the summer holidays for the muggleborn visits, and used the floo to visit the Patil home.
Her father and mother were wonderful people, each with a sense of humor and kindness that only loving parents could have. At least he suspected that to be the case, at his admittingly small sample size showcased. They spoke about his masterpiece, and how he wanted Padma to attend, even sending a letter to her. A letter he did not receive any answers to; how that made him feel about the situation thinking that someone had realized that they were writing and thus targeted her. How he felt that was a stupid thought as he knew what both sides were doing in the broad strokes and of course it was not that.
Her mother, a petite woman with golden skin and ink dark hair smiled at him calmed him with a shake of her head. "Harry, dear, she has merely been with her sister and cousins these last few days in the homeland of India. Your letter arrived just as she left via portkey."
Her father laughed vigorously at his expression, before adopting a serious stance. "I will not have anyone who endangers my daughters around them. However, my little girls aren't so little anymore. It would be impossible to tell them to not talk to you, or to cease being around you, as one seems to enjoy your company more than she is aware and the other may just have deeper feelings than friendship for you. Feelings you share, even if you are unaware yourself." Her father shook his head and held up a hand to forestall any objections. "I am not going to dictate to my daughters whom they can date or even marry. It was done to my brothers and myself, and I was the only lucky one to end up with a loving, beautiful and intelligent wife." A warm loving looked was shared between the spouses, before he turned his gaze back towards Harry. "But I am certain that you will know exactly what an angry father is capable of should his daughters get hurt, am I understood Heir Potter?"
Harry nodded and they ironed out details on the travel arrangements for their party to Hogwarts. He was about to leave before her father told him a final piece of information. "I will not spring this on her. She must ask to go, mainly to promote her own growth. The girl doesn't ask for anything, doesn't seem to desire anything. Let us see if she is willing to ask about you."
It was three days later, that he received a hastily written letter right as he was readying for bed that merely said that the Patil family would arrive promptly at one pm three days before the start of term, two days before the masterpiece creation, and a day early for anyone who wasn't family. Hence why he was pacing infront of the fire place in his immaculate robes of violet.
In a rush of green, the floo activated and a family slowly emerged. Harry's wand was out, pointing at the lead person, his face set in a stoic expression. "Mr. Patil, what was your last words to me in our meeting previous?"
"Let us see if she is willing to ask about you." The mustache of the man twitched in anger as the wand switched targets to his wife. "Am I really suspect Harry? I called you dear during our meeting."
The Patil sisters each quickly said something that only they would know. "You showed me a familial spell that dealt with pain." Was Padma's response, while Pavarti stated that "You watched as I asked out Ron towards the end of fourth year, not knowing him and Hermione were together and laughed so hard you cried when Ron asked if I was thick."
Harry had nearly forgotten that exchange. Hermione was in the library finishing up some homework, and Harry and Ron were in the common room chatting aimlessly. Pavarti had walked up, and asked Ron to Hogsmeade for the next trip. He looked at her and merely asked if she was thick. At the shocked expression on her face, Ron quickly explained that if he said no, he would be a laughing stock because Pavarti is beautiful, but if he answered at all, his girlfriend Hermione would hex them both into next year. It was a terrible situation to put a bloke after all. Harry just laughed as Pavarti apologized saying she didn't know that they were together, and that she would explain to Hermione. Ron simply shrugged and said ,"I thought everyone knew."
Harry's wand was holstered swiftly, and a smile blossomed on his face. "I apologize for the security, but as you know times aren't the brightest now. We must remain vigilant and dedicated to the safety of those who are in attendance here." He turned on his heel and swept from the room, knowing instinctively that they would follow. He wasn't surprised at all that when they entered the Great Hall, to meet with the other Professors and his family, that they were on his heels.
Sirius and Remus were talking with McGonagall, all three laughing at something that Sirius had said. Dumbledore and Nicolas were discussing something with Severus Snape, their excitement obvious as the three discussed some project or another. Flitwick spoke with Hagrid about how charms could be used on his padlock next year to simulate some of the different environments that the magical creatures would live in. Remus was the first of them to notice them enter, and his face broke into a smile as he looked at Mrs. Patil.
"Aashi! It has been ten years since we last spoke! And Ajay,you finally grew out that mustache!" Remus strode forward, his hand outstretched.
"Remus Lupin, you are looking distinguished with the salt and pepper hair." Aashi spoke with her soft voice as she bypassed the outstretched hand to give the werewolf a hug. Ajay Patil, shook his hand and asked a rapid question in Hindi, that Remus responded with stuttering. A question that made Padma and Pavarti blush.
Harry leaned down towards Padma and whispered,"What did he ask?"
"I am not going to tell you that, family secret luv." Was the cheeky reply that wasn't able to be countered by Harry as Sirius Black chose that moment to swoop in and capture Padma's hand. He graced her knuckles with a brush of his lips as he introduced himself.
"My fair lady, I am Sirius Black, and as you know, the Godfather of this handsome devil beside you. Should he at any point cause you aggravation, allow me to punish him most harshly." The serious words were ruined by his wiggling eyebrows, and the reputation of the man.
"Sirius, we both know you couldn't punish me if you tried." Harry's voice stopped all conversations as his godfather straightened.
"Oh? Is that right Godson? You know what this means?! GROUNDED. For life. Never again will you see the light of the world from anywhere but a window!" Sirius declared with as much pomp and upturned nose as possible, while crossing his arms.
Harry in reply instantly was on his knees, pulling gently on his godfather's robes. "Please sir, not the grounding! Anything but the grounding! However will I enjoy the wind in my lush hair?! However will I skip rocks on the Lake?! Please, oh most glorious godfather, not the grounding!"
Maybe it was the begging, or the earnest expression on Harry's face, but as soon as Sirius looked down, the duo broke, laughing as hard as they could. Sirius helped him up and hugged him tight, spinning the younger man slightly as they thumped each other on the back. As Harry turned to face Padma he winked, letting her know it was just for fun, even though such a thing was obvious.
As the two separated, Minerva and Albus joined them, both bowing slightly to Harry as they entered the conversation. "Are you ready for your presentation Harry? If you pull this off, you will be the youngest Master to come from Hogwarts." Minerva smiled softly as Harry nodded.
"I am excited to prove to the world that I am a master at my craft and show off a miracle of magic." Harry was intentionally vague as the Patils and Remus joined their circle.
"That reminds me Harry, for what Mastery were you aiming? Nicolas is being tight-lipped about the topic." Albus asked, his smile and twinkling eyes showing that he likely knew what Harry was attempting, but still asking the question.
Pavarti jumped in and asked a seemingly simple question. "What do you mean? Are there different masteries?"
Minerva nodded, answering the question before anyone else could. "Of course Ms. Patil. There are several different mastery titles. You have masters of transfiguration, potions, charms, Beasts, alchemy, dueling, and runes."
Albus interjected there, "Of course, there are also masteries that are more obscure, such as the title Dominium Duorum, which literally means master of two. Then you have the distinction between Masters and masters." Everyone listening could hear the difference in capitalization just by the gravity of the tone of voice of the headmaster. "A master of their field is one that the ministry of a country deems extremely knowledgeable to the point that they are granted the title. They do not require a masterpiece and are employed by the most premier schools in the world. One such is our very own transfiguration Mistress. This is also the method that grants a mastery in a secondary subject and creates Dominium Duorum, such as myself." Albus' beard twitched as he continued to speak, his excitement growing. "However there are Masters of Two that earned the title via one masterpiece, or multiple masterpieces. One such was our very own Master Nicolas Flamel with the creation of the Philosopher Stone and the transmutation and transfiguration of the gold that it could create. But there is a title even further beyond Dominium Duorum. A title only three have held in recent memory. Dominium Magi. The Master Mage. At title only given to those who have shown Mastery over three fields of magic, with either a singular or multiple masterpieces."
"The last was Grindelwald. He held three masteries, two from a masterpiece he created while apprenticed to a runic master named Ruthberg, in Runes and transfiguration, and one from his homeland ministry that he achieved before his apprenticeship in Charms. Before him, a woman was granted the title for the creation of hydra antivenom potions, which involved alchemy, potions and intimate knowledge of the beast. The last was a man from America, Benjamin Franklin. He was a master of transfiguration, and a Master duelist, and of charms. He created the modern version of the sleeping spell." Nicolas explained the history as soon as it was evident that Dumbledore was done speaking.
It was later that night that Padma found him in his quarters mediating. It was a practice he started last year upon recommendation from his master. It eased his magic and mind and allowed him clarity before he slept. As the young woman settled into his side, seeking his body's warm in the drafty castle on this oddly cold summer evening, she spoke.
"I don't know what you have planned for your masterpiece, but I know you are going to be spectacular." He smiled softly at her, and it wasn't planned, though he suspected she may have planned it, he pressed his lips gently to hers.
It was an hour later that she was escorted back to her family's quarters for the evening, her lips swollen and a beaming smile on her face.
Harry sat in a runic circle that was etched into the Great Hall. They had decided to utilize this room so that the required people could witness what was about to happen. The audience sat towards one wall, opposite the great doors that were barred both physically and magically. They were protected by a tri-layered runic empowered shield that would stop any of their magic from interfering with the magic that Harry was about to do. Nicolas stood in the center of them all, a smirk on his face as he knew what his apprentice was about to do. The Weasleys were all nervous yet, the youngest four were also excited. It was rare for anyone to witness a masterpiece creation, let alone one from someone that they viewed as a peer. The professors of Hogwarts were all proud that one of their own would be taking this step. Even the most cynical of them all, Severus Snape was one holding a small smirk knowing that due to oaths taken this would be secure within his mind and he would watch Lily's son create history again. Headmaster Dumbledore looked to the ceiling of the Great Hall, before calling out.
"It is time young Harry."
Harry took a deep breath as soon as he heard Dumbledore's words. And he dove deep into his mind, while at the same time, his hands settled into a meditative position with the back of his fingers touching and the tips of thumb pressed together gently. He would need all he had magically for the first step.
He breathed in, deep letting his lungs fill with life, before exhaling and embracing his Crown at the same time.
Padma shuddered as the world did. Even through the wards that the professors had erected, the air felt like anvils on her shoulders as the magic erupted from her new boyfriend. He sat in the flaming aura of magic, as the Mask of his familial magic formed instantly on his face. In moments the aura was gone, condensing infront of him into an orb of magic and light that threw the entire Great Hall into an emerald hue. He stood, the movement graceful as a panther, cupping the magic gently inbetween both hands.
Harry felt at peace as his Crown slowly dissolved, its particles of magic seeping into the orb he cradled between his palms. He could feel the magic slowly forming what he desired; this was the pinnacle of transmutation and conjuration, just the creation of his artifact would be enough. But he was Harry Potter. He was the Winner of the Grand Triwizard Tournament, the Last Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, and as the Prophet had claimed recently, The Storm of Britain.
Thus as the magic started to settle, he twisted his hands, no longer cradling the magic, but now shaping it, one with his free hand and with delicate and rapid flicks of the wand he flicked into his hand. The weight of the magic increased dramatically, as did the pressure in the room.
Albus Dumbledore raised the Elder Wand just as Nicolas and Sirius did the same with their wands. The barrier that was the only thing keeping the audience safe was reinforced just as the pressure increased massively. Albus looked to his side, seeing for the first time the awe on the faces of the younger patrons of this sight even as they were forced to their knees by the pressure. The adults were all staggering, some gracefully like the professors and others nowhere near as gracefully, gently bumping against each other. Their faces were filled with awe as well, as even they were unaware of what and how a magical was doing this. Albus smiled, hidden behind his beard, and thought, 'Miracle of magic indeed.'
Harry had at this point created the various matrixes for the enchantments to layer safely, though it was time for the tricky part. He had thought of this when he decided to create a ring, but thoughts to actions was a process that took many weeks. This had an 80 percent success rate if he was slow, but he had practiced this motion too much for it to be slow. With a flick of his thumb, the Potter Family Ring that his godfather had received for him the first day of summer left his ring finger and was placed firmly in the middle of the matrix nexus. Harry braced himself, yet still nearly lost control of the shifting magic as the familiar ring entered the equation; working swiftly, his fingers flicked, even as his wand jabbed, dipped and twisted, layering dozens of enchantments while weaving the intent. Twisting his hand so it was holding the orb of magic from below, he splayed his fingers and flicked his wand up in a twisting motion. The orb shifted into a helix of magic, even as the floor below his feet cratered from the force.
Sirius Black dove into his own familiar magic as the barrier gained black lightning across the surface. He wouldn't know if that enhancement actually kept the barrier up or not, but he knew that it helped. He wasn't sure what his godson was doing, but it was seemingly breaking the world. Magical discharge was erupting randomly in the Hall, even as he worked diligently on his now helix shaped magic. The crater he was standing in was slowly deepening, each flick of a wand creating sound and light like a lightning strike. When he glanced to the sides, Albus and Nicolas smiled in prideful fashions, while the others in the audience were all seated looking on in awe and inspiration. He looked back at his godson and smirked in the manner that all Blacks shared.
"I always knew you'd be great, kid."
Harry created two circles, one with his wand, forcing the helix to double up around itself, while the other was created with his free hand, gently tugging now twin helix into a circle. As soon as the magic touched itself, it fused. A ring of a double helix circled gently infront of his chest. He closed his fingers, grasping the magic with his intent and his very identity as Harry Potter, Lord of House Potter, The Last Potter, and twisted even as he slashed with his wand. The helix responded instantly, curling into a figure eight, fusing at the point of meeting and shrinking down to the size of two rings. The wand was holstered and his now free hand joined his other in holding the now right ring just as his left held the left ring.
He pulled, and the magic responded in as much of a violent manner as it could. He had shaped it as one, he had created it to be one, yet now he separated it. Magical discharge erupted from around him as he pulled harder, his very essence fighting to create what he desired. He would have two, or he would make it disappear! He held this thought even as he pulled further apart the double helix.
With a chime of acceptance, the magic split, and a flash of golden light erupted in the room. As Harry stood panting in the crater in the middle of the Great Hall he smiled widely as two rings, both in the shape of a double helix circling a ruby or diamond center etched with runes that glowed in soft light slipped themselves on the pointer fingers of each of his hands.
Albus and Nicolas dispelled the barrier as soon as the rings slipped onto Harry's fingers. He watched as the now Master turned towards them, his body moving unnaturally gracefully. His eyes now were changed, with a golden ring around the pupil. Their emerald hue was the same, even if his eyelids drooped slightly with exhaustion. He took a single step towards Harry, before a shake of his head made him stop. He watched as Harry looked around the Great Hall and nodded. His wand appeared in his hands with a flick of movement that Albus couldn't make out before a jab towards the floor fixed the crater he had created. Several more jabs were utilized, and the Great Hall was restored. Harry looked at his hands in confusion, before he looked up at the headmaster and spoke addressing them all.
"Audience. My masterpiece is complete. I have created, out of mithril and the original Potter family ring, something new. The Lokian Links, two rings with unique names, Bellum and Pax. One, grants control of oneself. The other grants control of one's environment." With a flick of his left hand, a piece of rubble that was the only piece left was moved, completely without being touched by a spell. It moved through the air, to be placed in front of the Last Potter, who with a clenched fist, vaporized the rubble as it was crushed by the very force that held it up. Albus immediately analyzed what he witnessed.
Telekinesis with the left, and the right likely naturally pulses the magic in his body to the point that his bodily control and speed are at the height of what he could handle. War and Peace. Apt names for such versatile items.
Nicolas, being the most senior magical present nodded. "The masterpiece is functional. Tell us, what magics did you utilize to create it?"
Harry responded as the rite demanded," Four Master Flamel. Transfiguration, Charms, Runes and Alchemy."
Nicolas nodded. The four mentioned were extremely broad branches. Transfiguration covered the entirety of the creation process, the charms were covered by the enchanting and containing the magical effects. The Alchemy was covered by the fact that both of those two were done to moving magic, not physical entities or even essences. Runes however…
"How were runes utilized in the creation of the masterpiece?"
Harry answered robotically, "they allowed the creation of the mithril, condensing my magic further, and allowing the conjuration of the steel to be imbued with solidified magic without the destruction of an area. It was essential to the forming of the rings themselves as well, as the forging process was being done utilizing the runic system while also creating the enchantments and layering them."
The other magicals were shocked silent. Mythril was not only rare, but it was notorious for only being able to be enchanted by a team of magicals. Mythril was steel that was forged in the presence of solidified magic. Because of that, it was extremely difficult to weave enchantments into the piece itself, largely because of how magic interacted with the material as it was forged. That was why any enchanted mythril item had the enchantments anchored to a gem or other non-mythril item. What Harry just explained was that the runic forging process used by some materials could be modified to create mythril while simultaneously enchanting it. Thus creating pieces that were impossible to replicate as mythril had the ability to amplify magical effects. Add in the fact that the protections of the Familial Ring of the potters were woven into the items, and all familial rings utilized runic protections, Nicolas nodded.
"Thus it is with great honor, that I, Nicolas Flamel grant you the title of Dominium Magi. You have Mastery of Transfiguration, Charms, Runes and Alchemy. Congratulations my former apprentice."
Harry smiled widely as he was embraced by all the Weasleys, Sirius, Remus and Padma. He smiled even as he felt the connection with Nicolas sever and his now former master nod his head in pride. It was this moment that would live as his happiest for several months, and he would use it to fuel many a patronus.
It was a week later that found Harry frustrated as he moved up and down the room in an angry pacing motion in his former head of house's office. He had discovered a few drawbacks from his masterpiece. The first was that he couldn't turn them off or remove them. They were bound so much to himself due to their creation, that they refused to be removed. Nicolas believed that would shift after Voldemort and Grindelwald were defeated as his magic was always in a state of readiness for combat due to them being active. The other drawback was a direct complication from not being able to turn the effects off.
Harry was becoming faster and stronger.
Normally that would be fine, however he was proving to be a danger to others if he wasn't in control perfectly. Earlier that very week he had rushed to a bathroom and moved so fast that he was a blur. He nearly hit a student in his haste and if he had, the student would have been injured. As he was the secondary instructor for the Magical Combat class, he couldn't harm students!
"I don't know what to do! I need to figure out how to be in control here, and then there is the fact that I am still getting stronger. I don't think I am gaining any more speed, but my muscles are hardening with magic. I feel like…" Harry trailed off as he met Remus' eyes. It was then a single sentence popped in his head. A sentence he was certain he would have forgotten.
"I feel like a newly turned vampire." Remus' eyes widened as Harry spoke about it.
"I remember a story about a vampire who wrote about his experiences as he turned. And you are right Harry, that is exactly what he experienced! What was his name?..." Remus trailed off with his hand on his chin.
Harry had no clue why he said it aloud, but he knew he read the same book last year as well. He remembered the name of the author, who claimed to be a king of vampires.
"Cain."
In a flash of blue, Harry vanished from Hogwarts even as Remus surged from his seat. Deep in the bowels of the catacombs in Istanbul, a man with black as pitch hair that was untamable opened his red eyes for the first time in years as a flash of blue appeared in his hall.
AN: I have waited to write this portion for over two years. When I introduced the portkey I was asked by my editors what the hell I was thinking. I was thinking about this moment. I had Bellum and Pax planned since the first Crowning of Harry Potter in the First Task. I have been teasing the rings for a while, as Harry has made several. Cain... well Cain's story will be next chapter.