Reviews:
Pyromania101: Yeah, I'm trying to keep everyone as close to their real personalities as I can, the change really comes from interacting with other characters, having revelations, and changes to the story by adaptation. And I get what you're saying about the Midland side of things, it does have relevance, but compared to Casca being back, it kind of takes a back seat. And thanks for pointing out that this story has a TV Tropes page. I checked it out and I'm just amazed that this story has grown that much to get to that point.
Greyjedi449t: It certainly is one of the ways that situation could happen, but we won't know for certain until Miura comes out with the official chapter. I hope this chapter holds up as well.
PrinceZarok: Rumors about Guts start to fly around this chapter courtesy of the youngest Greengrass and Creevy brothers. But one Hogwarts student will be meeting them next chapter.
Tero7323: Thanks. It's hard to say what her actual problems would be like in canon, but I am trying to keep them as real as possible and focus on the consequences of what would happen if she does try to rush her recovery.
Necrogod: Thank you! I hope you enjoy this one as well.
Greer123: Thank you so much. Since those are the three main characters, I try to give them the most time together and have them build and grow off one another and I hope you enjoy the development of them and the others as well.
Hairul The Nightrage Beast: Casca has begun to realize the consequence of rushing her recovery, for sure. Writing for Guts and Casca is always a joy even if the mood is ruined. If Guts ever does let Casca wear the armor, it would have to be in a dire situation since he knows what the effects will be.
erica phoenix 16: I PMed you about it, but Rickert and co are still alive and away from Falconia now. And sorry for the misunderstanding, but if Snape did know, he would certainly be less keen to bully since he would feel guilty that the last link to Lilly had been through such a traumatic event. I hope that helps.
Disclaimer- Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Berserk is owned by Kentaro Miura. I own nothing.
Out of all the tables in the great hall, the Slytherin table was usually the quietest and reserved out of all four. That had, of course, changed a bit with the inclusion of the Durmstrang students who had selected to sit there during meals. It was made even livelier when one of those Durmstrang students was the world-renowned Quidditch player, Victor Krum. Draco was never a fan of Bulgaria, but even he recognized Krum as being an exceptional player. Oh, it had given him great satisfaction when he got to sit next to the star player when the visiting schools had selected their seating; he even shot that Weasley a victorious smirk when that had happened.
Indeed, Krum had been the highlight up until the name Potter had come out of that goblet. Everything had changed after that event. The whole school had done nothing but talk about it and once that ship arrived the talk got even worse. But leave it to the Hogwarts rumor mill to work its magic and all of a sudden, Harry Potter was apparently in Hogwarts.
Once that particular bit of information had leaked, every student from every house and every year were trying to go and get a glimpse of their "savior." While Draco did think the title was a waste, he wasn't above trying to go and see for himself if the rumors were true or not. He wouldn't have put it past the Weasley twins or any other foolhardy Gryffindor to try and gain a moment of fame.
But once arriving at the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey had dismissed him and Crabbe and Goyle, telling them that the infirmary was strictly off limits for the time being. That was without even setting foot inside, too. Yeah, something had been going on there for sure, but if that actually involved Potter or not was a complete unknown.
In all reality, the only ones who had actually gotten a somewhat glimpse at what was going on were the Weasley twins, another set of Gryffindors, the Creevy brothers, and Daphne Greengrass' younger sister, Astoria.
Unlike Daphne, Astoria didn't carry the same distant attitude as her sister and seemed rather friendly, a term not usually associated with their house. She had been tagging along with those Creevy brothers, after all, even if it was just by something she overheard. Draco wasn't about to trust anything out of a Gryffindor mouth and Astoria seemed keen on telling the story to anyone who was willing to listen.
An action she was recalling yet again to her sister, Daphne's friend Tracey, and a few other younger Slytherin's of her year. She was doing so in a normal, quiet Slytherin voice to keep up the public appearance of house unity, but the way she was moving her hands showed that she would be talking much louder if she were back in the common room.
"I still can't believe that you went with two Gryffindor boys," Daphne said to her sister, lightly chastising her.
"Would you rather I had run to get you, too?" Astoria asked. "I just overheard them talking about going to try and see and wanted to tag along. I thought you would be more proud."
"Oh? And why is that?" Daphne asked, her tone cold, but not how it usually sounded since this was her sister.
"Because I also went along to try to keep them check in case they started fawning all over him," Astoria smiled for her benefit. "It would have given Potter a pretty positive view of us Slytherin's."
As if he'd actually bother listening to some random girl, Draco thought with a discreet eye-roll.
Davis decided to chime in at that point. "Ah, I see. You have a fangirl crush on a national hero. I never would have pegged you for the stalker-type, though."
"I-I was acting very Slytherin-like!" Astoria defended, her cheeks turning a bit red from the implication. Her fellow peers lightly snickered at her embarrassment. "I mean, if he does end up attending, he'll at least know that Slytherin is a house that has decent witches… and wizards!" she quickly added that last part.
Draco fought very hard to stop his snort form escaping. Astoria had ambition with her idea alright, but she lacked the common sense of how to apply it. In truth, there were neutral families in Slytherin that would accept Potter, but a great many came from Death Eater parents, or those that believed in pure-blood ideology. Potter was a half-blood and one who caused the Dark Lord's downfall. If he entered Slytherin, he would either be seen as the next Dark Lord, or as an outcast who did not belong. Maybe even both.
"Too bad you never got to see him then," Daphne said to her sister, not sounding sorry at all.
"What happened, Astoria?" one of her young friends asked.
"I was getting to that before I was sidetracked," she sent a pout to her sister and friend. "So when the Creevy's and I show up there, the doors opens, but it wasn't Madam Pomfrey, it was this big guy and mean he was tall! Not Hagrid tall, but he was tall, and he had muscle to him." she held up her arm and used her hand to try and show how big his biceps would have been. "He had black hair and a scar on his face." This caught Draco's attention. Potter was known to have dark hair and that scar that made him famous to begin with. He held his tongue and waited to hear more. "The scar ran across his nose…" so it wasn't Potter then, "… his right eye was closed and there was a patch of white hair right above his closed eye, and his left hand was metal, like Professor Moody's leg. He looked like a dark knight from some old story."
"A knight?" one of the younger students asked. "Did he have a sword?"
Astoria nodded her head in excitement. "It was on his back and it was massive. I wouldn't even call it a sword, more like a heap of raw iron. It was probably taller than he was."
Draco knew she was probably exaggerating on that. While his knowledge of the muggle world was limited, he did know a bit about swords as fencing was a semi-popular pure-blood hobby. In all sense of practically, no one would actually carry around a sword that was useless and they couldn't even swing. It this… Black Swordsman really did have something like that; it had to be for show only. No wizard would ever have a sword over a wand.
"And what did this dark knight say to you?" Davis asked, sounding like she already knew.
"He… told us to leave." Astoria hung her head low in defeat. "He had this look in his one eye, it was like… I don't even know how to describe it. The Creevy's and I just bolted out of there after that."
"Wow. A couple of lions actually ran away?" Davis asked. "I'm surprised that they didn't try and go back after."
"They probably did," Astoria confirmed. "And I would have liked to go back too but someone," she sent an accusing glare at her sister who calmly sipped on drink, "wouldn't let me."
"You were being obsessive," the elder Greengrass said. "It's unbecoming of you, Astoria. If you talked any more about this man I would be concerned that you fancy older men."
"He wasn't that old," Astoria defended, going a bit red. "Even if he had some white in his hair he was probably only twenty-something."
"Exactly, an older man," Daphne said like that proved her point.
Having heard enough, Draco chose this moment to slither into the conversation. "My, what an amusing story that was."
The elder Greengrass eyed him warily. "I don't seem to remember you being a part of this conversation, Malfoy."
"Then maybe you lot shouldn't talk so loud. I was sitting right here, I could hear everything you were saying."
"It's just you?" Davis scanned the table for any sign of Crabbe and Goyle. "It's not that often we see you by yourself."
"They wouldn't have anything to contribute anyways." While Draco was use to their company, the two of them really were as thick as could be. It was probably only due to their parents influence that they ended up in Slytherin to begin with. "What's this you were saying about a swordsman?"
"If we were talking so loud, you would have heard it all, Malfoy," the eldest Greengrass told him. "I thought you were already in the know as it was."
His lip twitched a bit at that jab to his status as self-proclaimed Prince of Slytherin. "I was just surprised that a family of your standing would be associating with Gryffindors of all people."
"It is customary to be ambitious," Daphne told him with a hint of ice. "My sister was merely using them as a means to her own end. That's very Slytheirn-like to me."
He chose to let that one slide. It was beneath him to get into an argument with a Slytheirn in a public setting. House unity had to be presented. "If that's what you believe, Greengrass. But your sister didn't actually see Potter, did she? From what I heard, Madam Pomfrey opened the hospital wing up again."
"Then he's already left, hasn't he?" Davis weighed in.
A new voice cut into their conversation walking up along the Slytherin table. "One ov my classmates saw a boat going to that ship." The deep, accented voice belonged to none other than the world-famous Quidditch player, Victor Krum. He stood off to the side a bit awkwardly, his brow heavy and his feet spread a bit like a duck. "He thought that it vas Potter, as vell." His accent really showed.
The once talkative Astoria seemed to get more bashful at the arrival of the Quidditch star, making Draco wonder what she would have been like had she actually seen Potter. Davis wasn't faring much better, looking like she was going to say something but her normally quick wit seemed to be lost at the moment. The only one who chose to speak up was the designated "Ice Queen" of Slytherin, but even then the elder Greengrass lacked most of her usual tone.
"It probably was. But I can't blame him all that much given how some," she glanced at her younger sister, "view him as."
"He is famous even in my 'omeland," Krum added. "He vas the one to defeat You-Know-Who." And now he's back, Draco thought idly. "Fame bring many good things." He really was trying to speak properly as best he could. "But some bad as vell. Being Quidditch player, I know vhat it is like. I do not blame him for sneaking out."
That probably spoke volumes about Krum's character outside of how he was publically perceived as a star player, but to Draco, it added to a bit of bitterness he had inside of him. Potter was here in secret for less than a day and he had already won Krum over to his side. With his money and status, Draco had only had a few words spoken with Krum at dinner and even most of Krum's answers had been either "yes" or "no" as evident of his lack of full understanding of the English language. But now, he seemed more than capable of having a fully fledged conversation now that the topic was Potter.
"I vonder, now that Potter is here, vill he be competing in the third task?" Krum seemed to ask the question in general. "Ve all 'ear stories about him, I vould like to see if they are true. Your Hogwarts Champion, Diggory, he is very good, ve get along vell."
Great, now a badger like Diggory was getting more attention from Krum. Diggory might be a more than competent wizard, but compared to a line like the Malfoy's, he couldn't bring nearly as much influence to a Quidditch player. Although, Draco did see a gradual decline in his allowance. He was prepared to write home angrily about it, but thought better knowing that any lost galleon was likely being used by the Dark Lord. He didn't like it, but… what could he do about it?
And that was what made it all the worse.
The deck of the Sea Horse was lively at this time of day. While most of the crew still went about their daily business as usual, the passengers were present as well. Harry and Schierke were off to the starboard side rail, talking amongst one another and going over a few things in what magic texts they had as well. Serpico was standing close to them, but was more focused on hanging some wet clothing on the rail to dry off from being washed. Farnese was taking the scene in from the helm of the ship and Guts was more toward the bow, silently watching as usual, his attention drawn to the scene that was playing out near the center mast.
Casca, much like Isidro had been doing previous, was practicing in a mop spar with the Moustache Knight – AKA, Sir Azan. The older knight still kept his full armor and helm on maybe as a sign of repentance for everything that had happened back at the Tower of Conviction and his own drive to live up to his status as a knight. Or maybe the man just liked to wear his armor at all times, Guts really didn't know much about the man.
But what he did know was that even though Sir Azan was a bit over the top in his zealous nature of knighthood, he was no easy pushover either, at least, when it was time for him to spar. Since Sir Azan was used to using a two-handed metal spiked staff, twirling a much lighter mop around was an easy task for him.
Spinning the wooden tool above his head, Azan brought it down for a more defensive stance. "Come now, no need to hold back against an old hedge-knight like myself!"
Casca stood opposite him, holding her own mop and swinging it in the air like she was getting a feel for it again. The effects of not holding a sword for so long was made very evident. "This feels so different," she muttered to herself, her eyes narrowed at the faux weapon she was dealing with.
"Improvisation is an essential skill for any knight in training," Sir Azan heard her speak. "Live steel on the deck of the ship would be far too out of the question, someone innocent could get caught up in it. And even if you are my opponent, it would go against the knight code to shed the blood of a respectable woman."
Guts tried to gauge Casca's reaction to that. "…Right, of course." She looked almost deadpan. She assumed her own stance with her torso turned to the side and put one foot in front of the other. It was very much the one she had adopted from her time in the Hawks. He shouldn't be surprised by that, even if Casca had been out of action for some time, she still knew what she was doing. It was all just a matter of getting back to that; or, as close as was possible.
The memory of last night was still fresh in Guts' mind. The warm, content feeling he had been feeling with Casca was cut off abruptly by concern after she had reacted the way she did. He had just let her cry it out before taking her back to the cabin she shared with Farnese and Schierke. Although the two other girls did not stir a bit when he brought her back, he had a feeling that they knew she had been missing.
But if either of them was awake, they were keeping to themselves about it. Maybe it was for the best if they did. He had yet to talk to Casca about that incident, but she seemed to just need her space right now. Sure she had still greeted him during the morning but the guilt she felt was still present in her eyes when she did so.
He maybe would have tried stopping her from sparring now considering the kind of reaction she had had last night, but this could end up being just what she needed. There was clearly a repressed anger inside of Casca that had reared its head last night so maybe if she was able to better understand it, focus it even, she would feel more in power than she was. Guts had been in a similar state when he was a kid among older mercenaries and the incident with Donovan.
Choosing not to think about that right now, Guts turned his full attention back to the spar going on between Casca and Sir Azan. The older knight proved to still have his speed about him as he swung his "weapon" down to knock Casca's strike aside as she had lunged for his stomach area. Casca was taller than the slightly stunted knight and clearly faster due to her youth and build. But Azan was still hefty and had more of a driving force behind him.
Casca took half a step back before going for a lunge once again. Azan went to intercept, but she had feinted instead, moving around to deliver a strike to Azan's neck, her weapon was knocked aside once again as Azan had to bring the other end of his stick up to counter her would-be hit.
"A simple yet effective combo," Sir Azan called out. "But a seasoned knight knows the basics."
Casca took the offensive again, this time moving her strike up instead of aiming down, trying to disarm Sir Azan by further stepping closer and trying to get him to trip on his own footwork. Instead, Azan pulled his stick back and used it to push the advancing Casca back a few steps before he used one end to skim across the floor, pushing her back or make her risk getting tripped up.
"She really seems to be getting into this," Schierke said to Harry, stepping back so Casca could have some more room.
"Yeah, but this isn't nothing compared to what she can really do," Harry told her, recalling some of the moves Casca had once performed. "She's just getting warmed up." he really hoped he was right on that because Sir Azan was slowly gaining more ground on her to the point where Casca was almost at the rail.
The two combatants were approaching where Serpico was and the blonde youth had to swing himself over the rail and back around to avoid a sudden jab Azan sent at Casca who ducked under it.
"Sir Aza-, er, Black Moustache Knight, isn't it part of a knight's code to always be aware of your surroundings?" Serpico asked, trying to raise awareness for some of the people around them.
No one could see Sir Azan's face, but they all imagined he must have looked pretty bashful at his mistake. "Ah, yes, of course! I should have expected my opponent to avoid that last one. Good on you, young lady!"
"…Thank you," Casca said to the knight, using this opportunity to take a swing at him and start to push back toward the center of the ship where they had more room.
"It is a bit jarring, though," Schierke continued as she and Harry watched the spar go on. "I know that Casca was a commander and all, but actually seeing her more around like one…" Schierke left the thought go unfinished as Casca went low to swing at Sir Azan's stumpy legs, forcing him to step back on the defensive.
"Well, what were you expecting?" Harry asked her, wanting to know more of what she had been thinking. He figured she stopped short because she was thinking of the Elaine version of Casca.
"Just that I can see why she actually gained that title is all," Schierke confessed watching Casca nearly land the first blow only to be pushed back once again. "She has a way about her, I guess."
"Thinking of picking up a sword yourself?" Harry asked, only half teasing the green-haired witch.
"That isn't really my style," Schierke answered, tapping her fingers on her staff. "This… magic is all I've ever know. I have an understanding of it, I've studied it, I practice it. Besides, you've got a balance of both fields. It's best if I stck to what I know."
"Okay, that's fia renough," Harry agreed before asking, "What about a dagger?"
"Isidro has one and I wouldn't want to just practice with him." Schierke said so without real malice. While she still found the other boy annoying, she didn't hate him. but still, Harry knew she probably wouldn't want to take any lesson where Isidro was the teacher.
"What about handling a shield?"
"Well… no."
"A mace then?"
"That's heavier than a sword and…" she saw the small smirk he had. "You're very amusing." She lightly glowered. He lightly patter the back of her head as apology.
Farnese watched the small teasing exchange between her two teachers, her attention flickering to and from Casca's little spar she was having with Sir Azan. The knight had done his best to be the embodiment of knighthood from the time they spent together as part of the Holy Iron Chain Knights. Even so, he didn't seem to be going easy on Casca either as he went ahead and followed through with three hard blows that had the young woman changing her stance to block each strike as they came down toward her head.
Knowing how protective and volatile Guts could get when Casca was concerned, Farnese was actually surprised that the swordsman had not yet intervened and snatched the mop from Sir Azan's hands and whacked him over the head with it for being too rough in this spar. She spotted the dark shape of Guts on the opposite end of the ship toward the bow. He was keeping his eye trained on the spar, but showed no signs of looking to interfere.
If Farnese was to hazard a guess why, she would say that Guts didn't want to embarrasses her. Despite only knowing the true Casca for a very short time, Farnese was able to pick up on a few things about the other girl. The first being that she was wasn't afraid to be a bit different as shown by her new hair. It wasn't customary for women of Midland to have long hair, but it was a sign of maturity and a way to let men know they were at a marrying age as most girls kept their hair short until a certain age, the exception being noble women who usually grew their hair out at all times.
And since Casca had once been a commander, it showed a certain degree of conviction that was uncommon except for soldiers. The main reasons Farnese had gotten into a position of the Holy Iron Chain Knights was due to her father's influence and the fact that they had a tradition of always having a female leader present. If Casca had been born or even lived in Vritannis, she probably would have been chosen for that position instead of Farnese.
But Casca doesn't strike her as being a religious girl at all, especially considering that they were standing opposed to beings and monsters that could only fit the mold as being from either heaven or hell.
"You seem invested in the spar, sister." Farnese turned her head to see Magnifico leaning over the rail to her right.
"Magnifico, you're out of your cabin."
"It was getting too stuffy," he brushed aside one of his golden curls. "We won't be on this ship for that much longer, I take it."
"I honestly wouldn't know," Farnese told him. "You speak with Roderick, he's the captain."
"He is, but he does not have…" Magnifico struggled to find the words, "…magic. Of all things, magic had to be involved."
"I am studying to become a witch, as you're aware of," Farnese felt the need to remind him of that fact.
"Yes, Father would be very proud." It was hard to tell if the bitterness present in his tone was directed at her or toward Father, maybe both. "Not that he'll ever find out, of course."
"What do you mean?" it wasn't like Magnifico to keep a secret if he could use it to his advantage. There was no way that he wouldn't tell father about this if he got the chance.
"Oh, come now, Farnese, don't tell me you haven't figured it out yet."
"Figured out what, exactly?"
Magnifico heaved a sigh before walking over to her. "We're stranded; lost, trapped, we have no idea what we're doing." She was able to see his face much clearer now that he was closer. Magnifico seemed to have aged half a decade or so in such a short time. He didn't have any white hair like Guts had above his eye, but his face looked more haggard than it had any right to.
"Magnifico…" Farnese had never really been close to any of her three brothers as they were almost always away doing their own business, but she did not want to see any of them suffer or stress themselves like Magnifico was clearly doing.
"I thought we would be finding a way back as soon as the woman was cured, and look," Magnifico directed their attention down to where Casca was locking her mop with Sir Azan who was slowly pushing her back while keeping the lock intact. "She seems more than fine to me. And yet, here we all sit like everything is fine and dandy. It isn't!"
"Magnifico, please, calm yourself."
"I would love nothing more, Farnese, believe me." Magnifico ran a hand down his face. "There is just so much going on at once. Can't you just… just… create some magic tunnel back, or something?"
"I don't believe that's how magic works," Farnese told him. If it did, she didn't know about it.
"Uugh!" Magnifico groaned in displeasure like a whiny child would.
"Ah! I thought I heard your frustrated groaning, Magnifico!"
"Roderick," Magnifico greeted his friend as the captain walked up to the helm.
"At your service," Roderick bowed at the waist with an arm behind his back. "Any assurances I can grant to ease your worries, old friend?"
"Uhhh, none you haven't given already," Magnifico slowly blinked. "Maybe ask the Black Swordsman when it'll finally be time to leave, that would be grand."
"He seems ready for any sort of action at a moment's notice, like a shark waiting to strike," Roderick made the comparison. "If you want to ask him yourself, you're more than welcome to."
"Umm," he no doubt recalled seeing what Guts was capable of doing during the escape from Vritannis. "If a fight ever arises I'll pay him handsomely to handle it. Until then… I'll just excuse myself." Magnifico left to head back to his cabin, leaving the captain at the helm with Farnese.
"Ah, your brother really is an interesting fellow, you know?" Roderick asked her.
"You think he's interesting?" Farnese asked. Magnifico was usually only talking about the family banking business and about loans and funds and things only having to deal with money. Interesting would not be the first word she would use to describe Magnifico.
"Well, interesting in a sense," Roderick admitted, patting the wheel of the ship, staring out at the scene unfolding on the deck. "He becomes quite lively when he's upset or distraught, always making you wonder what it is could have gotten him so worked up. But in this case, I think that the answer is more than apparent."
"Hmm," Farnese could only nod in agreement.
"But, he does raise a valid question," Roderick continued. "When do you suspect that we will be underway?" he looked at her, the usual playful smile was still there, but his blue eyes were firm.
"I… I cannot honestly answer that question right now," Farnese confessed to him. "I'm sorry, I wish that I had more of an answer, but my teachers are trying to figure out a way. We don't mean to make you feel that you or your crew is being taken advantage of."
Roderick let out a chuckle. "We haven't been here that long, you know. Besides, I have faith that you and your teachers will be able to figure something out."
While Roderick always came across as a friendly individual, it was still surprisingly refreshing to hear him give out complements when they were earned or needed. "You have that much faith in us?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Roderick asked. "I'm not going to pretend that we haven't had that many interactions so far, but that doesn't mean I haven't seen the fruits of the work you put in." he looked back down to where Casca narrowly dodged a jab from Azan before slashing her mop weapon up knock his next attack aside. "Before, she was making half words and chasing sea gulls around. I don't know what part exactly you helped play, but you did, and there she is."
Farnese really didn't know what to say to that. Sure, her teachers would praise her when she muttered an incantation correctly or drew the correct runic symbol, but hearing it from someone other than those two was… nice, in a way.
"Well… I'm flattered that you think that way, Roderick. But it was no easy task."
"Those are usually the best kind," Roderick said boyishly. "Maybe you could tell me about it sometime."
"You must have quite the collection of stories then," Farnese added.
"A fair few to say the least," he gave a self-confident smile. "If you tell me about yours, I'd be more than happy to delve into some of my own past adventures."
"I…" she thought it over. "…I'm sure that could be arranged."
"Well… I'll certainly have something to look forward to then, won't I?" Roderick asked. "But, in the meantime, I do believe something else takes precedent at the moment." He inclined his head down to where the spar was still going on.
Both combatants had gotten more than enough time to wear the other down and size the other up but it looked like things would soon tip in favor of Sir Azan. Casca could have normally made short work if she had been in better practice, but her stamina was not yet accustomed to being used in high levels just yet and it showed with how her movements were starting to become a bit sluggish.
Sweat glistened at her brow and her breathing was starting to become heavier. Sir Azan could be heard huffing and puffing from behind his helmet as well, the toll just as great on him as it had been to her. "My, you put up an extraordinary good match, fair lady. But, the time has come to end this little mock battle of ours."
Sir Azan went to disarm Casca, but he was surprised when his strike was intercepted and knocked to the side. "Not so fast, old timer!"
"Isidro?" Casca asked at seeing him jump in with his own mop in hand. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" Isidro asked. "I'm backing you up, of course. I owe this bastard back since he last sparred with me."
"You have gotten faster since then," Sir Azan overcame his shock at having another join in. "Your interference would normally be considered an honor less act, but… seeing as I am a seasoned knight, I will make an exception."
"What do you say, want to beat this guy?" Isidro half whispered to Casca.
"I…" Isidro heard a hint of protest present in her voice. "I… sure."
"Hell yeah! That's what I'm talking about!" Isidro got ready to charge.
Casca just nodded. "Fine. You go in slowly on the left and I'll-,"
"-Let's do it!" Isidro yelled, making his charge only for Casca to grab the back of his shirt to hold him in place.
"Slowly. On. The. Left." She punctuated each word.
Isidro pouted a bit before agreeing, "Fine. But only because you're a commander, or something."
Sticking to what he had been told; Isidro circled Azan from the left flank, Casca slowly advancing from the center. Spinning his stick around in a defensive nature, Azan made ready for either of them to make their move. And, of course, it was Isidro to move first.
He saw Casca give a glance that seemed to say, "go for it," and so he did. Azan saw this development and made ready to follow through with a sideways strike. But seeing Azan pull this move forced Isidro to duck his head and roll directly under the swing.
Having passed safely under, Isidro made ready to follow through with a jab of his own. But Sir Azan was prepared for the much younger boy to have enough energy to follow up with a quick attack so he was forced to step back in order to avoid getting hit.
However, what Sir Azan had neglected to do was, check where he was backing into. Using the last bit of stamina available to her, Casca raced behind the short knight to use her mop handle to trip him up. "Oof!" Sir Azan exclaimed as he landed on his back. Before he could even attempt to rise or to raise his makeshift weapon to defend himself, Casca had already slapped his wrist with her own mop, forcing him to drop it to the deck. He lay there disarmed.
"Do you yield?" Casca asked, some of her hair sticking to her forehead.
"I yield," Sir Azan accepted his defeat and Casca and Isidro helped him back up to his feet. The crew that had been watching laughed and passed a few coins around, the bets they had made were being collected. "But I must say it was an honor to have been bested in a way that has humbled an old man like myself. I will never forget to look where I step!" they couldn't see his face, but they all imagined he was beaming with pride for his successors and self-motivation to improve his own skills.
"Yes… well… thank you for agreeing to it in the first place, Sir," Casca set her own makeshift weapon against the mast.
"Yeah! Ha ha! We totally did it!" Isidro exclaimed. "Did you see that move I pulled back there?"
"I did. That was some quick thinking on your end." Isidro couldn't help but soak in the praise he was receiving.
"Yeah, I guess it was, wasn't it? But still, that was the most fun I had since we got here. I've basically been sitting around waiting for some action to happen."
"I'm glad I could help then," Casca somewhat hesitantly replied.
"You don't think you'd be able to show me any of those moves, would you?" Isidro asked with little shame. Based on what he had seen, her style of fighting was something more based on speed and resource, something he excelled in himself. That wasn't to say he still didn't secretly view Guts as being the single strongest fighter he knew, or even that he thought Harry was lame. But both of them had something else he didn't; Guts had muscle and strength, and Harry had magic. He… had neither of those things. The closest to either of them was Serpico, but the blonde youth didn't really spar on occasion and his style was more refined like how a noble would fight and Isidro was far from being high class and refined. If he could find someone else… and Casca was back after all.
"I guess I wouldn't mind…" Casca trailed after thinking it over. "…Too much," she quietly added.
"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Isidro pumped his fist. Finally, he was making progress. Puck was fun and all, but if really wanted to be the best swordsman there was, why not get help from a pro?
Night seemed to have fallen unnaturally fast in Kingsley's opinion. The sky was cloudy, typical for the Scottish weather, but it wasn't to the point where the light of the moon couldn't breach through. It was… calming, almost. He honestly wasn't sure. There was a lot on his mind at the moment and most of it revolved around how he had been assigned to escort Umbridge that day to Hogwarts. He had been against it personally, he really could not stand the woman, but in terms of the Order and his duty as an Auror, he had to.
If Harry Potter really had been there, only Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey knew for certain and he trusted Dumbledore enough to make that information public with the order when he deemed it necessary.
But… he kept thinking back to that man, the one with the ebony armor and massive sword on his back. That man's very presence put every hair on the back of his neck on edge, years of Auror training warning him of an impending danger. His suspicion was proven true when Umbridge had her lights knocked out with a single punch. Dawlish had wanted to arrest the man, but Kingsley knew a lost cause when he saw one. There was no way they would have been able to take that man; their best option had been to just leave and take Umbridge to St. Mungos for treatment.
But that was in the past now. It was time to focus on the here and now.
Currently, he and a few other Aurors, including Moody's young protégé, Tonks, were at Stonehenge. The debut of the Dark Lord was still fresh in everyone's minds and the site was still closed to any public visitors, the muggle repellent charms having been enacted around the site. It was still made unclear what exactly the Dark Lord had been up to out here other than to make his entrance known loud and clear, but it had to do with those runic symbols drawn all over the ground and on the pillars themselves.
"Brrr," Tonks shiver next to him from the bit of chill in the air. "I should have brought a jacket to wear under my robes."
"You are lucky Moody is still recovering from the battle," Kingsley told the young Auror. "You know what he would say if he were here."
"Yeah, I know, 'Constant vigilance!'" she performed a half-way decent of the aged Auror. Her mimic was only enhanced by her natural metamorphagus abilities that made her face sag a bit making her look much older.
"He always has a point when he says that," Kingsely advised. "You would do well to listen."
"I do listen," Tonks defended her pink hair turned a shade darker. "It's just that – what is it?" she tensed seeing him take his wand out and point it toward on of the pillars.
"I thought I saw something move." Kingsely thought he saw a small, dark shape move past all of a sudden behind the stone. "Go and get the others."
Tonks went to circle around to the perimeter where the rest of the team was. The light of the full moon helped light the way for her.
Wait. Full moon?
Indeed, the moon was bright and full in the sky above. In fact, it looked almost too bright. But that couldn't be possible. The full moon wasn't due yet, there was no way it could go from being half full to full in just one night. Even with magic, it would not have been possible. While some wizards could make illusions appear in the sky, like the illusions stars were moving, the moon was tied to magic in that it helped enhance it. Magic was always strongest when the moon was full.
But thlight from the moon also cast its rays on the small, furry black creature that took off after Tonks as she ran to get the other Aurors. Kingsley's instincts kicked into high gear as he shot off a stunner at the creature.
"Stupify!" the jet of red light soared and high the beast in the back of its head. Tonks paused momentarily, her clumsy nature almost making her trip over her own feet.
"Kinsley, what is that? Some sort of gremlin?"
"It must be," Kingsely rushed over to examine it. The nose was large and had some whiskers coming out from the sides. The arms were covered in black fur and were much longer than the legs. It carried a wooden club in its hand to be used as a weapon and Kingsley dreaded to think about what would have happened if he had not stunned it in time.
"It came from down by the site itself, from behind one of the pillars."
"I think it travels in packs," Tonks pointed to where the ancient stones were. From behind the pillars, more hairy creatures were poking their heads out, some had wooden clubs and others had bones. Each of them had predatory look in their eyes.
The largest of the gremlins let out a cry and they all began to charge in full, maybe more than a dozen or so altogether.
"Stupify! Impedimenta! Incarcus!" Kingsley shot spell after spell at the advancing horde of gremlin-like beasts. Tonks fired off her own series of curses next to him, not all finding their mark, but a great deal did.
For those who wound up tied in rope, they began to use their large teeth to begin to chew through it, ready to advance until… Kingsley felt it. The hairs on the back of his neck were all standing up again. The wind seemed to race past him and Tonks both, their eyes catching a glimpse of white, grey and black before it sped off and with a single pass, all of the creatures that were approaching fell to their knees, blood pouring out of a cut that had been made in their necks.
They barely had time to cry out before the last of their blood drained from their body, their killer and the wizards' assistant sat on a horse almost motionless. The blade he held in his large, mailed hand was coated with but a thin line of blood.
"Kingsley…" Tonks sounded nervous. "What… what is that?"
"That…" Kingsely looked at the skeletal horse and to the figure wearing bone-like armor and a matching skull helm. But behind those sockets, a pair of glowing reddish- purple eyes seemed to gaze into him. This was like the feeling he had at seeing that swordsman. Almost the exact same feeling.
What was going on? Why was this happening? Why now of all times?
Those were the questions going through Narcissa Malfoy's head as she slammed the door to her and Lucius' bedroom shut. Her breathing was coming out hard and Lucius was in a similar state of panic as she was. He took out his wand and began putting protective enchantments over the door.
"How?" Narcissa finally found the voice to speak. "How could this be happening?"
Lucius was white as a sheet, having no real answer except for, "The moon. It's a full moon tonight."
Narcissa had seen it too and instantly went into a panic. Not because they weren't due for a full moon, but because of one very special guest their manor was hosting, and it wasn't the Dark Lord. No, it was Fenrir Greyback.
The werewolf was notorious for intentionally attacking his victims, especially children, but one of the conditions Narcissa had made Lucius make before allowing that beast inside their home was that he must be outside and far away from their home when the full moon was at hand. To have it sneak up so suddenly meant that they now had a full grown werewolf prowling around inside their house.
"Arooooo!" they heard the wolf howl from a lower level, some of the Death Eaters could be heard trying to cast spells to restrain the beast as the Dark Lord wanted Greyback for the pack he controlled.
"AH! Ah! Ahhhhhh!"
"Shit!"
"Stun the bastard already!
"Not so close!"
"Nooooo!"
"Grrrrgghhhhg! Arooooo!"
Narcissa covered her ears at the carnage the werewolf was causing all throughout the house. "Dobby!" she cried out.
With a loud pop! The family house elf appeared in their bedroom. "M-mistress Cissa called Dobby?" the elf sounded terrified out of his mind.
"Dobby, take me and my husband and get us somewhere safe out of the manor." Lucius was too stunned at what was happening in his own house to give the order himself.
The elf took hers and Lucius hand and with another loud popping noise, they disapparated. Let the Dark Lord handle the mutt, he was the one to bring it in to begin with.
Back at Hogwarts, Dumbledore perked up at the sounds of one of his instruments going off. "What in the heavens?" his blue eyes widened when he saw that it was one of the instruments used to detect a breach in Hogwarts' wards. "No, no, this can't be." The only person with the strength and means to even attempt this was Voldemort and Dumbledore knew exactly why he would strike now. But the instrument was not wrong.
There was one person on Hogwarts grounds that should not be there.
Turning to Fawkes, Dumbledore prepared his message. "Go, alert the members of the Order. Start with the teachers here and then go to headquarters." The majestic bird nodded his head and took off, flying right into the fireplace.
With his message sent, Dumbledore made ready to go investigate himself. He was well aware of what happened last time, but he wasn't going to underestimate Voldemort again. But as he passed by his office window, an odd sight stood out to him causing his blue eyes to widen even further and making him almost drop his wand.
The moon was full.
"Remus…"
"You're certain about this?" the sun had just gone down and the moon had already risen high into the sky. The night really came early this time, Guts noted.
"I'm certain," Casca said with unfaltering conviction. He noticed that any feeling of guilt she had been feeling since the night previous was gone, replaced by a drive that he was all too familiar with. "Don't you feel it too?"
"I… not in particular. Casca, will you just hold up for a minute?" she had come to his cabin as soon as the moon had risen and demanded that they go and find Roderick straight away.
"You'll see what I mean when we get there."
"Where?" Guts demanded, nearly yanking his arm free of her hold. "What's this about?"
"The moon, Guts, the moon." It was full. "Back at the sea-side shack, it was a full moon when he appeared. It was only half full last night. Something is going on."
"I'm not saying that it isn't. Maybe just talk to Harry or Schierke, they would know."
"They're up on deck trying to map the stars to see what's happening," Casca explained, stopping in front of the captain's quarters and knocking on the door until Roderick answered.
"Chief?" Roderick saw Guts. "Casca? What's all the excitement about?"
"Can you take us to shore?" Casca wasted no time in asking, and it sounded like less of a question and more of an order.
"Is there a problem?" Roderick sounded serious.
"Just, please," Casca pleaded with the captain. "I just… have a feeling."
Roderick looked at Guts to see if he had anything to add. "…If she say's something's up, it probably is," Guts told him. "We're not going to know unless we go and she'll swim there herself if she isn't allowed a boat." He was being dead serious about that last bit. Whatever it was Casca was feeling, it was entirely isolated to just her.
"…Alright. I trust your judgement, Chief. If you think there's something going on, I'll get some hands and take you ashore."
"Thank you, Captain," Casca thanked him before hurrying off to the deck.
Roerick watched her go. "She's… tenacious."
Guts wasn't going to argue or say anything more on that, he just followed after her, working to catch up to her with his long strides.
With a few hands lowering their boat down into the lake, the passengers consisted of Roderick, Guts, Casca, Harry, Schierke and the two elves. If trouble did arise on the shore, it would help to have magic on their side and to help Guts in case he went in berserk mode.
Guts' sole eye focused up at the moon. It seemed much too bright tonight and much too close than it had any right to be. But Casca had been right about the lunar cycle, it made no sense for it to just change overnight.
The wood of the hull dug into the pebbly shore and Casca wasted no time in hopping out first, scanning the shore for any signs of things that were out of the ordinary. "Did she say what it is she's looking for?" Harry asked his staff already in hand.
"She'll know when she sees," was all Guts had to offer. While he did find the moon thing to be strange, he had no actual theories himself. But if Casca wanted to believe that it was somehow connected to that boy they had come across… he really had no right to deny her that.
"Still, it is a bit risky coming here," Harry helped Schierke climb out of the boat. "If a student comes along-,"
"-We tell them to beat it," Guts casually said. "That, or, you could handle it yourself." He saw Casca moving toward the edge of the forest that was near the shore, she seemed to have paused and be looking at something. "Come on." He moved his legs to carry himself over to where Casca was standing. "Casca, what is?"
"Sssh!" Casca raised a hand to signal for him to be quiet. "It's okay, you can come here."
"Casca…" Guts trailed off.
Standing behind one of the trees was a young boy wearing an oversize white tunic with a blanket thrown over his shoulders and head like a cloak. And in his one hand, he held a figurine that reminded guts of the ones Sirius had given to Harry. But there was no mistaking the boy. Casca's feeling had been right.
A/N: So I hope everyone who lives in the States ahd a nice 4th of July. And as of the fifth, this story has reached its one-year anniversary. Thank you all for favoritng and following and helping this story grow. Thank you for reading.