Reviews:
Pyromania101: Thanks! And I had initially planned it to end similar to that but thought that having the mystique surrounding Harry and the rest reach a certain point before they are inevitably faced with the students. I wanted Luna to be the first one they made contact with since she is the only one with real knowledge of Sonia and Midland and thought it would serve as a parallel between both worlds. And with an ultimatum presented this chapter, a big event is inbound next time.
Quartermass: Not a problem, and yeah, I have seen a recent influx in terms of views, favs, and follows, so thank you for that! Best of luck with your story and I hope your continued interest in the series will lead to more inspiration.
Guest: Yup, Guts may not be on full terms with it yet, but that is the true family he has. and considering Guts' past, it does make for a bittersweet feeling indeed.
kaxipoptos: Thanks. If Guts had been aiming to kill, Lupin would have easily been cut in half in a second. Going hand to hand is often an overlooked trait of Guts' since he always has his sword, but it is a skill he possesses. As for the Hogwarts staff, there is always room to give some more background for certain characters it's just more of figuring out at what point to add it in since this is a part of the story that is heavily focused on Casca's recovery. Guts probably would be a very caring father to the boy as long as he is able to look past the whole fetus part of its life and how it came about. Their reactions to Umbridge and her plan will not be very forgiving, to say the least. I'm happy you like how Luna was portrayed, she really is a mix of childlike innocence and complex emotional understanding.
Necrogod: Thanks! Hope you enjoy.
Tero7323: Yup, Guts isn't afraid to go hand-to-hand when the time calls for it. And it's good to be back.
Greer123: Thanks. I had more time to work on it so I'm glad it was able to live up.
Hairul The Nightrage Beast: The Dementors will be coming soon, I guarantee that. As far as Patronus' go, those would be pretty accurate if Guts and Casca had magic, but for someone like Schierke, I always pictured her having an owl for a Patronus. And Guts did get a chance to show off his combat moves this time and he won't be turning into a werewolf, one beast is enough for him to handle.
Disclaimer- Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Berserk is owned by Kentaro Miura. I own nothing
Voldemort had thought the night would have been an easy one. He had temporarily left the safe house that was Malfoy Manor to travel north to meet with some of the last remaining tribes of giants currently alive in the United Kingdom. He knew that giants, no matter which tribe, respected strength above all else and he would meet with them personally since none of his followers magic could possibly compare to his own.
It was something that could be considered a menial task for someone of his power and status, but aside from strength, giants did value a leader who would fight their own battles instead of relying on followers. It was a trait that these giants had carried over from their close relatives in the more Nordic territories, the once great giants of frost and ice. But these giants were far less cultured than their Nordic brethrens.
Their camp, if it could even be called as such, was feeble, an easy target for another tribe of giants should the other attack. There giants were still massive, but seemed innately dumber than he would have ever expected. No doubt, it was due to actions put forth by the Ministry; killing giants had reduced their population by so much that they seemed to have taken to inbreeding to sustain their population. Or they might have even mated with humans like the mother of that great oaf of a gamekeeper, Hagrid. It was disgrace enough to have to be a creature of such low intelligence, being a half-breed of such would be an unbearable humiliation.
But, the thing that did impress Voldemort, albeit only slightly, was their tenacity for violence. In terms of strength, they could make up an entire division of his growing army alone, with only a few of his Death Eaters having to stay on as guards and shepards to make sure that they stayed on point with their given assignment. On the contrast, it was the reason behind the violence that led to his skepticism of using such creatures; they were violent over just about everything.
By Merlin, he saw one rip another's head off for supposedly stealing a goat. And that led to the mother of the now dead giant coming out and bashing the head of the other giant in with a club. It was really no different than seeing a couple of trolls hit each other with their clubs, and that had been the first sight he had seen upon arriving just outside of the camp. But from what legends and old folk tales told of giants, these actions were relatively tame by those standards, and it wasn't as if they were all that surprising to him anyhow.
Yes, they could be useful and surly a match for anyone who was trying to safeguard Potter. Voldemort briefly reflected on what the other apostle, Zodd, had told him before he had left the city of the God Hand to return back to headquarters; how Potter was supposedly in the company of one called the "Black Swordsman" who could fight like a vicious hellhound. What's more, this man was just a mere mundane human, nothing special about him in the slightest. Yet both apostles Zodd and Locus seemed to speak in tones that conveyed implication of an unknown danger, and in the former's case, a sense of admiration.
Voldemort had not pestered either of them before leaving the city with his followers, but if he was so dangerous he could make two other apostles waver in their own power and confidence, they were either weaker than they cared to admit, or, the Black Swordsman was the real deal. But if this swordsman was truly just an ordinary man, he could be killed just as easily as one, albeit, with some difficulty.
The thought of his pseudo-apostle Death Eaters being so easily humiliated came to the forefront of his mind as well. Loathe as he was to admit it, the hulking apostle did have truth to his words when he said that Voldemort and his followers possessed great power but lacked the skill and knowledge to master it. And with that, came the other reason for his visit here tonight.
Being an outsider in their camp, Voldemort was escorted by two lumbering giants to the hut where their chieftain stayed. Bones of various goats, cows, and pigs were decoration for the throne where the biggest of the giants sat. The chieftain had a head that resembled a rock stacked on top of a pile of other rocks and hardened clay. Like the decorations of his hut, he wore armor made from various bones, and a large club lay across his lap with bones protruding from the end; some splotches of red tainted the faded white of those bony spikes.
The giant chieftain pointed at Voldemort and began speaking in a series of grunts that seemed to comprise the giant language. It wasn't really difficult to understand what was trying to be said since a translation charm would be useless in trying to decipher a tongue with no meaning. Voldemort understood that the chieftain was asking who he was, what he was doing here, and that if he did not answer soon, he would be killed.
As if a primitive being could actually harm him, especially one as dumb as this one.
Voldemort made a sweeping gesture of his arm to indicate the giants gathered around the tent, then to the chieftain, and finally, to himself. The implication could not have been more direct and to the point. The reaction was as expected.
The chieftain snarled down at him, a hand reaching for his massive club weapon. The other giants in attendance growled as well, some beat their chests and others yelled insults in that guttural language of theirs. It was all put to an abrupt end when the chieftain rose from his seat, his club pointed down at an unfazed Voldemort. All other noise stopped for the chieftain to yell his own personal growls and grunts of insults down at the Dark Lord, ultimately culminating in him taking a step toward the dark wizard and making good of his threat to squish him like an insect.
And it was all the action Voldemort had needed.
His wand slid into his hands from the sleeve of his robe and with a powerful reducto curse, shattered the wooden weapon before it even got the chance to strike him. The shattered pieces of wood and bone alike fell to the ground, but stopped short when Voldemort reached out a hand to hold them in suspension. Thanks to the deal he made with the God Hand, his body was magic incarnate, feats like wandless magic were of little consequence to him and wielding a wand was only for familariety sakes. It was like in his brief duel against the old fool, Dumbledore back at Stonehenge.
With a flick of his finger, the pieces of debris angled themselves facing up and shot back at the chieftain like a shower of wooden hellfire. Some pieces bounced harmlessly off of his bone-plated armor, but others found the soft, exposed flesh that surrounded his eyes. The chieftain.
"Grrrrgaaahhh!"
Roaring in pain and defiance, the giant chieftain powered trough the pain and went to swipe down at Voldemort. Seeing the incoming hand, Voldemort decided to borrow a spell from Severus' own make.
"Sectumsempra!"
It was like a dozen invisible swords had suddenly appeared from nowhere to slice at the fingers of the giant chieftain, spilling large droplets of his blood. But they didn't stop there; with the kind of magical power he had put into the spell, the giant lost much more than just some of his blood. Three of his massive, meaty fingers were severed as well as a result.
As the giant howled and clutched at his bleeding stumps, Voldemort smiled in self-satisfaction at his handiwork. It had taken some manner of… negotiating to get Severus to reveal some of own crafted spells, and now, Voldemort could see why the potions master would be so reluctant to share a spell like this one. Maybe Severus was afraid someone would put it to better use than he ever did. And he would be right.
The other giants gathered around seemed too shocked to even comprehend what was going on right now. No doubt, they were used to seeing their chieftain at the top of his game, easily killing anyone who dared to insult or look at him the wrong way. It would probably be the way some of his Death Eaters would look at him if he ever faced defeat.
Speaking of which, Voldemort supposed it was time to finish off the giant for good; no use in prolonging a fight that means so little, even if it was serving as a way for him to grow more accustomed to his new powers Clenching his fingers together, Voldemort extended his arm toward the wounded giant.
"Depulso!" Voldemort let his fingers spread out.
It was as if five different forces of pressure invisibly exploded outward at once. The force of it was so great that the chieftain did not just fly back and hit the wall of his hut, instead he flew all the way through it.
Due to the force of which he had been flung and the impact of landing, the chieftain's armor began to crack and fall apart. One such piece was the rib of animal that must have belonged to a bear of some sort given its size. With a swish and flick of Voldemort's wand, the bone was levitated from the ground and hovered in the air, awaiting instruction from its master. Voldemort spared a brief glance at the downed giant, seeing the disbelief in its eyes.
Voldemort lowered his wand and the bone stabbed right through the giant's eye, burying itself to its length in his skull. The chieftain could only twitch as his brain as his brain was pierced, his mouth gasping open wide like he was trying to take his last breath, his arms and legs shuttering from one last involuntary command before he stopped moving completely.
Turning back to face the on looking giants, Voldemort pointed to the body of the dead chieftain and then to himself. He raised his wand hand in the air, a clear sign of triumph over the fallen giant. The reaction was near instantaneous; the giants all gave a bellow of victory, raising their fists in the air as well, a sign that they had accepted his victory. The now dead chieftain must not have been the most well-liked of rulers; or maybe it was must part of giant culture. Either way, Voldemort did not care.
What mattered now was that this bunch of giants would follow him now. And if any attempted to usurp his position, they would easily meet the same fate as the one that lay dead outside. Now, he would return to Malfoy Manor and-!
He felt it. The feeling of an influx of the magical energy not just in the area, but in himself as well. This was a feeling that would normally only be experienced once a month. Looking up to the clouds overhead, Voldemort cast a spell that dispersed of the overcast and shining very brightly overhead was a very full moon.
With haste, he apparated back to Malfoy Manor, knowing the type of guest that they were housing. The moment he apparated outside of the manor gates, the chant of the giants was replaced by the screams of terror and pain accompanied by an animalistic howl that could only belong to a werewolf.
By the sounds of it, Greyback was really making a mess of the place.
Fools!" Voldemort cursed to himself as he cast the gates open, taking long strides toward the manor doors; the howls and screams getting louder as he got closer. Even if this change of lunar cycle was unexpected, his subjects should still have enough reason to contain a beast like Greyback.
The doors to the manor nearly flew off the hinges as the Dark Lord strutted his way into the luxurious manor. From the entrance hall, the damage did not appear to be too bad; aside from some obvious claw marks on a few of the marble columns, and some paintings of previous Malfoy ancestors having been torn up; the people of those paintings no doubt sought refuge in another painting within the manor. But it seemed the commotion was mainly coming from the second floor as indicated by the howling.
Taking the steps two at a time, the Dark Lord passed along the railing of a balcony looking down into the foyer, rounded a corner to find a large, matted wolf sinking its teeth into the forearm of Barty Crouch Junior.
The sandy-haired man writhed from the pain of the fangs digging into him coupled with the knowledge of what he would become come the next full moon. Crouch would have raised his wand to push the werewolf back, but that was the arm Greyback was turning into his personal chew toy.
Voldemort took notice that the werewolf did have some ropes wrapped around his paws and hind legs, an indication that some Death Eaters had tried to restrain the deadly beast. Fools! When he said that Greyback was a valuable asset, he didn't mean to go lightly on him if he were to transform into a wolf. Werewolves were tough creatures and only a suicidal idiot would take one on alone, especially if they didn't have the power he did.
"Crucio!" Voldemort cast his second favorite curse, striking the wolf on its back.
With a whimper of pain, the wolf released Crouch's arm from his jaws, turning to face Voldemort with those amber eyes of his. Sensing a new threat, Greyback sprinted on all fours toward the Dark Lord. Greyback pounced at him, his jaws open wide looking to sink his fangs into the Dark Lord's flesh.
But as Greyback neared, Voldemort stepped aside, pointed his wand at the wolf's open jaw and hit it with a quick bone-breaker hex. The wolf landed off balance, making small whimpers of pain as it tried to properly close its mouth only to find that it was useless to try and do so. Seeing the weakened wolf, the Dark Lord decided to quickly end things before the wolf would try any other foolish actions.
With an almost lazy flick of his wand, Voldemort casted his next spell. "Levicorpus!"
The werewolf Greyback was lifted from the floor by some unseen force, suspended by his hind leg. Feeling the sensation of suspension, the werewolf fought and struggled wildly to try and break the invisible hold upon its hind leg, but the struggle was futile. Voldemort had begun to walk back toward the railing, the werewolf Greyback still dangling by his hind leg a little in front of him.
When he reached the railing looking down at the first floor, Voldemort raised his wand, lifting the wolf higher before cutting the spell off, letting the wolf fall the rest of the way down. Brrrk! From the sound of it, he had shattered multiple bones, but as he peered down, he saw that despite effort, Greyback was still attempting to rise.
Voldemort hit him with another levicorpus jinx and followed up with a second bone-breaker aimed directly at the ribs. Greyback could still be useful, so it wouldn't bode well to have him sustain any mortal wounds, ust ones that could be easily healed once the sun rose.
With Greyback still suspended, Voldemort sent a banishing charm his way, knocking him out of suspension and flying directly into one of the marble columns. He could tell the wolf was getting worn down, so as a finishing move, Voldemort sent three stunners in quick succession down at the wolf. Each bolt of red struck true, finding his ribs, back and head.
The werewolf collapsed, defeated.
And even with his newest victory, Voldemort felt no real sense of satisfaction. He knew for an absolute certainty that tonight was not suppose to be a full moon and while magic was powerful, it would be near impossible for any one wizard to accomplish, even for Dumbledore and himself. But… perhaps not for someone with god-like powers.
But what would one of them even be doing here to begin with? He didn't like being kept out of the loop, especially if he was the only apostle in this world. If they were up to something, he ought to have knowledge of it. Voldemort was tempted to hurl a killing curse down at the stunned werewolf because of what he considered a slight against him by the God Hand, but that would just be nonsensical. There was still Potter to deal with; he just had to take this one step at a time, then he could worry about whatever the God Hand was up to.
Come the next morning, Hogwarts was abuzz with all sorts of chatter and gossip and it was no secret as to why that was. Every student, no matter what house or year saw the odd lunar occurrence that had occurred last night. And for those who knew about Professor Lupin's condition (which was the entire school) were worried out of their minds for their safety, and his own. Neville had never seen Professor McGonagall in a more anxious state; granted, she was always the strict teacher out of all the staff, but she had been in full lioness mode, a term coined by Fred and George once she too caught on to what was going on. Her Scottish accent sounded as fierce and commanding as ever as she had ordered the prefects to watch over the common room after she went to go try and subdue Professor Lupin. And none of that would have been too surprising, if the Ravenclaw students hadn't noticed that one of their own was personally escorted back to the common room by their head of house, Professor Flitwick.
And for the first time Neville could remember, Luna Lovegood was the center of attention not for her unique personality, but for more information about what had happened last night. Only a bit of information was really known for certain, but for those curious enough, they had skipped on breakfast to go and find the spot where Luna had been last night. They seemed to be talking about a statue shaped like a centaur and a large set of heavy prints that looked like the user had been wearing a set of armor.
So with that coupled with what the Creevy brothers had said about briefly seeing a man in armor that day outside the hospital wing, it of course, led a vast majority to believe that it was this swordsman and Harry Potter who managed to subdue the werewolf Lupin before the rest of the professors arrived on the scene. Not to mention that when Professor Lupin did show up later at breakfast, he seemed totally winded, with his fingers wrapped in gauze and looking like a piece of his earlobe had been bitten off. In short, he was shabbier than ever; even after being properly treated by Madam Pomfrey. From down the staff table, Professor Snape was directing a hateful stare at Professor Lupin. No surprise considering he was the one to get Lupin sacked last year by leaking that information.
Neville did not fault Professor Lupin for whatever had happened last night, no one could have predicted that it was going to be a full moon all of a sudden and anyone who knew Professor Lupin knew that he was the farthest from a beast as there could be. And Neville doubted he would comment on what actually happened since he probably had no memory of it, but one thing was for sure, this event was only contributing to the wild theories running around about Harry Potter and this Black Swordsman.
"So if Harry actually fought a werewolf, that means he must be a Gryffindor, right?" Dennis eagerly asked his elder brother next to Neville at the Gryffindor table.
"I'd say so!" Colin answered back with an equal amount of entheausm. "It matches everything about the stories written about him in all those books. He's like an actual hero! The swordsman must be like his bodyguard, or a sidekick."
Neville could only imagine, but he wouldn't judge for certain on account of not actually knowing Harry, but Neville did have to admit that helping capture a werewolf Lupin did seem on the list of things that a hero would do. But if their previous description of the swordsman was anything to go by, Neville highly doubted a man like that would be anyone's sidekick.
"Is that what the Lovegood girl said?" Angelia Johnson leaned asked from where she sat by the other Gryffindor Quidditch players. Neville noticed she sounded skeptical about it, she was an older year, after all.
"She only said so much," Colin said. "But she couldn't have meant it about anyone else. All the other students were in our dorms and she said Professor Lupin was already restrained when the other teachers found her." True, Luna never once said the name Harry Potter when she was being continuously hounded like she was right now as she was trying to enjoy her morning pudding with those colorful glasses of hers.
But the Hogwarts rumor mill seemed to be running a bit behind as news of Lupin's transformation was not even mentioned in the Daily Prophet as the press instead was more focused on the mystery as a whole and what the muggle world must be making of the whole situation. Even now, letters were being delivered by the usual owl post. No doubt they were from concerned parents who knew of Lupin's condition and were writing to see if their kids were okay.
Neville suspected that his gran would be sending him one at some point, so taking the initive, he finished up his breakfast to go and write her a letter at the owlery to let her know in advance. No sooner than he left the great hall, than he heard his name being called.
"Hey, Longbottom!" the voice was familiar enough. Halting in his tracks, he saw it was the Slytherin who he had managed to built a secretive and tentative friendship with, Tracey Davis who was joined by a younger Slytherin girl.
"Uh, hi there, Tracey," Neville greeted. "Did you need to see some of my notes about herbology?"
Tracey fixed him with the most deadpan of stares. "Do you really think that with what just went on last night, I wanted to talk to you about plants?"
"Look, I know as much about that as you probably do," Neville reasoned. "I don't see what you would be coming to me for about that."
"You're right on that," Tracey agreed. "It's just… ugh, just follow me, I don't want to be overheard." Most of the students were still in the great hall sans Dumbledore, but that didn't seem to matter much to the Slytherin girl. She led him and the other girl to an empty classroom on the first floor.
"This should be good."
"Are you going to explain what is going on now?" Neville asked. "And uh… why is she here?" he referred to the younger girl.
"You know who she is," Tracey said like it was obvious. "This is Daphne's adorably annoying little sister, Astoria."
"Hello," the younger Slytherin offered a kind smile, unlike her sister who kept a mask about her.
"Hello there," Neville greeted back in a shier manner of speaking. "So, what is it? What's going on?"
"We don't know," Tracey said rather bluntly. "And like you, all we've been hearing are a bunch of wild rumors. Astoria, however, seems keen on believing that one about Harry Potter and that Black Swordsman somehow being involved in all of this."
"You didn't see his sword, though," Astoria told the older Slytherin. "He could have fought a werewolf and won."
"See what I mean?" Tracey deadpanned once more.
"Well, that's… fine, isn't it?" Neville really didn't see much problem is she believed the rumors or not.
"Do you believe them?" Tracey asked.
"Well, I've never seen or met Harry or this other fellow, so I can't really answer that." He tried not to get involved in rumors or any sort of drama.
"Hm. Then you sound more Slytherin than Astoria," Tracey teased. "Believing rumors may not be a big deal for you Gryffindor's, but information – real information – is valued in Slytherin. It wouldn't be becoming if my best friends sister started falling prey to wild rumors without any way of knowing if they were true or not."
"Even though this one probably is," Astoria muttered so Tracey wouldn't hear.
"The point is, there is really only one person right now who knows what really happened last night."
And it began to fall in place for Neville. "Well, that really is more suited to Luna than me. I haven't asked her about it at all."
"But you're one of the few people who talk to her?" Tracey asked like she already knew.
"I've spoken to her a few times, yeah," Neville admitted as much. "But not enough to be considered a friend or anything. And even if I was, I would just feel like I would be using her to get information, and I wouldn't do that to satisfy curiosity."
"And there's the Gryffindor nobility," Tracey noted. "And I thought you would say as much. So if that bothers you, just tell her you were asked by someone else; save yourself the burden of lying about it to begin with. Lovegood has that open personality about her, as long as you're honest about it, you should be fine."
"I haven't even agreed to this," Neville made a manner to point out.
"How about we appeal to your Gryffindor sense of honor then?" Tracey asked. "Show him, Astoria." She gave a small nudge to the younger girl. Astoria dug inside her robe to pull out a small letter of some kind.
"What's that?" Neville asked, not expecting that of all things.
"Just a silly little letter she wrote as thanks if Potter or that one man did help in restraining Lupin," Tracey explained. Astoria pouted at the use of the word "silly."
"But, of course, it would have all been in vain if it really is just some wild rumor generated from a noisy Ravenclaw or those two Gryffindor girls, Patil and Brown. You really wouldn't want Astoria to have wasted her time on that, do you?"
She was playing him, and Neville knew it. Outside of Tracey, no other Slytheirn really so much as even acknowledge he even existed; except for Malfoy and his goons in their attempts to humiliate him in front of their peers. But just looking at the younger Greengrass sister, she didn't strike him as being like that, just an overexcited kid who was being kept under control, really.
"I guess not," Neville ultimately admitted defeat. "But, if it matters so much, why don't one of you ask her?"
"It seems you have learned to not just go along with whatever someone tells you, good. But to answer that, you have to know Slytherin has a very strict social circle. We think we're the elite, so to just go and ask someone like Lovegood whom we've never spoken to before, it would be social suicide in a way. But acting through a middle-man, that fits the guidelines."
"So you admit to using me, too?" Neville wasn't too surprised even, even if a Slytherin was nice to him, they still had their own set of plans.
"I'd be willing to make a deal with you," Tracey defended her honor.
Now he was just downright suspicious. "What kind of deal?"
"I'll just say it'll be worth your time," Tracey answered. To that, Astoria snickered, but it was directed toward Tracey and not Neville. The youngest Greengrass decided to speak up on it.
"It's because she-,"
Tracey quickly covered the other girls mouth before she could finish. "Like it said, it'll be worth your time." She dragged the now silenced Greengrass sibling out, leaving Neville alone to think things over. But whatever he was going to do, he still had a letter to send himself. However, the entire walk to the owlery, his thoughts kept getting sidetracked.
Once he did arrive in the tower, Neville scribbled his letter out on a spare piece of parchment, trusting a school owl to make the delivery since he only had his toad Trevor as a pet. He thought he was alone in the tower, but a sudden voice almost made him jump out of his skin when he heard it.
"Oh, hello, Neville."
He put a hand on his chest as he recognized the speaker. "Merlin, Luna, you scared me."
What were his chances, the unluckiest boy in the year, running into the center of attention of this morning's gossip?
"Sorry about that," Luna apologized. "I thought you knew I was here."
"What? No. I got here first, how could I have known?"
"You could have heard me walking up," Luna countered. "But it does get noisy with all the hooting that goes on up here."
"Yeah, I guess it does."
Luna pulled a letter from the sleeve of her robe and gave it to one of the school owls, similar to what he had just got done doing. Neville felt really awkward just standing and watching her go about such a normal routine, but he found the words already leaving his mouth.
"You must feel relieved to get away from all the gossip in the great hall, huh?"
"Yeah, I like it better up here, being with a friend."
"You… think I'm a friend?" Neville asked. He was on good terms with his fellow Gryffindors and even a few Hufflepuffs like Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott, and Ernie, but he had only had a few conversations with Luna in the four years he's been at Hogwarts.
"Don't you think I'm a friend?" Luna asked, tilting her head like a child almost.
"Well… um, ah, if that's what you want to call it, sure," Neville nearly stumbled over some of the words.
"That's good," Luna simply said.
"Uh, I know you probably got asked this a lot, but why exactly were you out last night?"
"Huh? No one really asked me why I was out there, just what I saw," Luna thought it over. "I had just gone to feed the thestrils. You know, the ones that pull the carriages."
"Oh yeah, those." Neville could see the strange horses, but always kept quiet on account that no one else seemed to be able to see them. But Luna seemed to be an exception to that.
"Since you're my friend, I'd tell you more, but I promised my other friends that I wouldn't say too much about it."
"Oh, yeah, I can understand that," Neville admitted. Professor Lupin was probably ashamed enough as it is. Professor Flitwick had probably asked her to keep quiet so not to frighten some of the younger years.
But then again, what other friends did she have? Luna was a real nice girl, but given her unique personality, a lot of people tended to avoid her because of that. And a strange thought popped into his head; was this Luna's way of basically telling him that the one rumor was true? Had she actually met Harry Potter last night?
"Well, I'm sure your friends would like their privacy about them," Neville tested to see if she would comment further on that.
"Yes, I think so, too."
Yeah, she actually did.
While Dumbledore was considered to be the most powerful sorcerer of the time, he was still just a man. And having been up all of last night and now skipping breakfast to have the Minister of Magic meet with him were slowly taking their toll of the aged wizard. His blue eyes, which were lacking their usual twinkle, glanced down at the paper of which Cornelius had laid down on his desk. The Minister paced about, twirling his green bowler hat as he did so.
"This is certainly troubling indeed," Dumbledore could only say.
"Oh, I expected you to say more than the obvious!" Fudge exclaimed, briefly pausing in his pace. "Of course it is troubling. Owls! Flocks of owls are plaguing the Ministry as we speak, Dumbledore! Dolores can only do so much to help me keep things running smoothly. But this is something that cannot be easily exclaimed to the muggle government. I just got done meeting with the Prime Minister, he's been getting bogged down in all this as well. Tides have changed, astronomers are baffled, news networks are running the story all day long. Historic sites like Stone Hedge were all abuzz and Aurors Shacklebolt and Tonks reported hallucinating of some knight of skeleton." That caught Dumbledore's attention, and he made a mental note to discuss that with the both of them.
"This is not something that can just be swept under the rug, this is a global impact!" Fudge briefly paused. "Not to mention the reports of the multiple werewolf attacks that happened. Dolores wanted to know how you handled that particular situation."
Of course, Umbridge would be looking for an excuse to have Remus sacked again. "The incident sneaked up on all of us without warning. Remus Lupin, like most who seek a cure for their curse, did not know such an event was going to occur. If they had, they would have taken their wolfsbane potion as standard."
"Yes, but was anyone attacked?" Fudge asked. "After last night, werewolf population has surly skyrocketed! Some of which now include muggles, I might add."
"No," Dumbledore assured the Minister. "No harm came to any student or faculty alike. Remus was successfully restrained."
"And it was your staff that managed to capture him?" Fudge asked.
"Remus had been restrained outside the castle and we were able to properly sedate him until morning."
"Hm. And they did so without any outside interference?" Fudge was clearly suspicious. "Harry Potter didn't have a part to play in all this, did he?"
"If Mr. Potter did have some role to play, I did not see it." Of course, Miss. Lovegood had explained the whole story to him, but Fudge seemed up to something, more than usual.
"If you say so," Fudge said with clear disbelief. "Regardless of that, this is still a serious situation. Something has to be done! The people need to be assured that there is still something they can be assured of for a certainty."
"You speak with much conviction, Minister," Dumbledore nodded. "I take it you have something in mind?"
"Yes," Fudge stopped twirling his hat around. "The Triwizard Tournament still has one task left to go. Two other magical schools are well aware of all the craziness that has been going on and with You-Know-Who on the loose, they will be wanting to get back to their native countries as soon as possible." Where was he going with this? "I have owled the other judges to propose that the date of the third task be moved forward to an earlier date."
"This is your idea?" Dumbledore asked, thinking there were much bigger issues at hand than the tournament.
"Dolores suggested it, and I happen to agree," the Minister told him. "And what better way of finally introducing Harry Potter to the public?"
Dumbledore let out a sigh. "Cornelius, from the initial meeting with Mr. Potter, he has no intention of participating in this task."
"And what about the needs of the rest of the magical community?" Fudge asked. "What about the people who have no idea what to think, who look to the Ministry for strength and support and see us doing nothing, too confused by everything going on? Do you know what happens then, Dumbledore? Disorder, that's what! We're already dealing with a dark wizard, a shift in power would only allow him to gain more influence. And who is the one person, aside from yourself, that can oppose You-Know-Who? Harry Potter. Now, Mr. Potter may not have asked to be a cultural icon, but he is and he has a civic duty to help the magical community the same as any other wizard in England. Not to mention he has a legal obligation to participate; his name did come out of the Goblet of Fire."
"A name entered by a Death Eater is disguise," Dumbledore argued. "I would say that constitutes an exemption."
Fudge was shaking his head. "Champions have had their names entered by others in the past and they still had to compete. Death Eater or no, Potter's name was still drawn. Now, enough time has passed for Potter to know what is going on here from wherever it was he was being kept all this time. I doubt he will speak with me, but you may have more luck. Let him know that he can either compete as the rules dictate, or a team of Aurors can be sent to take everyone on that ship into custody for failure to comply." Before he turned to leave, the Minister had one last thing to say. "And make sure to bring the Sorting Hat to the task. Even if he doesn't attend, the public has a right to know which house he would be sorted into."
For Harry, the night had been taxing, and it had nothing to do with the whole werewolf Lupin scenario; Guts had been the one to physically wrestle with the wolf, he and Schierke had only perfomed the spell to hold him for after.
No, it was more to do with trying to decipher the mystery surrounding the child that had appeared for a second time now. He and Schierke compared it to the first time they had encountered him back at the seaside cottage. Both instances involved the full moon and that led to them talking about the influx of magical energy that came along with it. Such energy could be what allows him to come into physical existence; or so they believe.
But to do that would mean that he would have to be something more than just a human child, and based on Harry knowing what he did about the fetus Casca had following the Eclipse, it was safe to assume that they were one and the same, ust different in appearance.
And so, that led to them trying to figure out why that was. The closest would have to be everything that happened at the Tower of Conviction. If that behelit apostle had done something to bring the Neo-Griffith into existence, it stands to reason that it would operate like a regular behelit; a sacrifice was needed. So by that logic, the fetus-being would be dead, lost to the abyss. But Schierke had suggested that it might be a symbiotic relationship between the Neo-Griffith and this boy.
Neo-Griffith used the fetus as a host body to be reborn, and as such, the fetus was leeching off some of that power. It would help to explain how Guts had been pulled from the Berserker Armor back at the cottage as neither of the mages had any pull in that. And if that was truly the case, it got Harry thinking of a very strange topic; would any child be like that if it came from a God Hand? It wasn't a welcome thought, but it still got Harry thinking about it. Griffith's dream had to possess his own kingdom, and kings usually left heirs. But the God Hand were immortal, it would be senseless to have an heir of any kind; not to mention Griffith wouldn't waver in his path of achieving his dream, he would want it for himself.
So was the Neo-Griffith perhaps nervous about this child then? Is that why he sent him here, to perhaps be rid of him and have him deliver that message about staying away from the city known as Falconia? As much as Harry wanted to believe what had been said was a lie, he knew there had to be some truth to it all. After all, what were they to the God Hand? Just a bunch of pests who probably should have died long ago and just continued to be thorns in their side of whatever grand plan they had for both worlds. But bar Lupin, they had not succumbed to one attack. It had been Schierke to suggest this, if the God Hand were planning some kind of attack on this layer, they would have to have some sort of direct access maybe like a bridge between the two like the boy was to Guts and Casca and Neo-Griffith.
Even with all that theorizing, they were still no closer to finding out what Gaiseric had to do with any of this. Skull Knight was probably the one who could do any real damage to the God Hand so perhaps the boy was trying to warn them that they were going to try and kill Skull Knight which would be no easy task. The explanation they both came to was something that looped back to the theory that the boy was leeching off of Neo-Griffith. If he was leeching, he might have some glimpse into the mind of the God Hand and what they had planned.
And for all that time spent, sleep eventually came for them as they mapped and wrote this entire out on a small desk in Harry's cabin aboard the ship. Evidence that the morning was actually here was made clear when a ray of sunlight passed through Harry's glasses, hitting his closed eyelids. Harry groaned as he became aware of his neck bent at an awkward angle on the uncomfortable wood of the small desk. His glasses were a bit askew, poking into the side of his temple. He found himself slightly unable to move his left arm on account that Schierke was resting her head on his shoulder, her hat as askew as his glasses were.
Harry had to rearrange himself very carefully so he did not disrupt her from her slumber, and while he was successful in making sure Schierke kept asleep, Ivalera who had been asleep on the witch's shoulder was not so blessed.
"Don't go getting frisky," the elf warned. "I got my eye on you."
"You scare me senseless, Ivalera," Harry assured Schierke's closest friend as he stretched to help get the pins and needles out of his stiff body. He would let Schierke get a few more moments of sleep before coming back to wake her up; the sounds of wood clashing against one another drew his attention from up on the upper deck of the ship.
Wiping a few crusties out of his eyes, Harry made his way to the upper deck.
"Yeow!" Isidro yelped as his makeshift weapon was knocked from his hand from his partner's attack. "Cutting it a little close, dontcha think?" Isidro rubbed at his swollen fingers.
"You were getting distracted," Casca's voice was incredibly lacking. She looked and sounded well-rested, but her tone was that of disinterest even. With the night having past and the sun out, the boy was undoubtedly gone until the next full moon. And because of that, Casca seemed well… she was trying to handle it as best she could. More than anything, she probably wanted to get her child back from wherever he had gone and along with that, protective instincts seemed to be working in full for her.
So if she seemed snippy or disinterested in Isidro's performance, it was only to really toughen him up to actually be serious about what he wanted. Or so Harry suspected.
"Rough night?" Serpico asked as Harry walked past, taking notice of his stiff and tired appearance.
"Guts probably had it worse," Harry replied.
"Hm. Yes, that does sound like him." Serpico pointed to the bow where Guts was watching everything. "He told me about what happened. Both you and Schierke are alright?"
"Yeah, just tired. Where's Farnese?"
Serpico looked up at the helm. "Speaking with the captain."
Harry looked as well. Farnese was listening to a story Roderic was telling. He seemed to think it was funny and Farnese smiled along to it, mildly amused herself. "She seems happy."
"Yes, I have noticed that," Serpico turned his gaze. "In fact, she has been much happier since we started out journey with all of you. You all gave her a new reality to cling to after leaving the Holy See behind and now, as a witch, I fully suspect she is understanding more about the world with every lesson."
Harry spared another glance up at her and Roderick. "And she's still balancing that with her position as a Vandimion."
"I wouldn't have thought it possible, but, yes, Roderick does seem like a good match for someone of her personality. I don't think Lady Farnese's brother had that in mind when he made this deal, but seems to be working out all the same."
"And if he wasn't a good match?" Harry had never asked the blonde man about his opinion on Farnese's marital life.
"I am but a servant," Serpico admitted. "There are forces that will be out of my control. However, if he were someone who would treat Lady Farnese unfairly, a noble family would have found themselves short of an heir." Serpcio quickly went back to his usual aura. "But luckily Roderick does not seem the type so there is no point in pondering the rhetoric."
"Couldn't agree more."
For now, he was content to just have a moment of peace, no matter how short.
"Hoo!"
An owl swooped low overhead, dropping a letter at Harry's feet and flying up to the top of the crow's nest. Having seen this, Guts was making his way over, his eye darting from the owl to the letter at Harry's feet.
"What's going on?" Isidro asked, distracted once again, this time with Casca's foot on his torso.
"A letter?" Serpico inquired, looking down at the dropped letter.
"What do you got?" Guts asked, eying the letter with clear suspicion.
Harry picked it up to see the light writing on the outside of the envelope.
To my friends on the ship in the Black Lake
From, Luna Lovegood.
"It's from that Luna girl," Harry had not been expecting a letter from her so soon. He opened it.
Hello, friends! I know I promised to write back once I got in touch with Sonia, and I did. I had to wait until very early in the morning, but I managed to catch her at a good time. We talked for a bit about how our day was going (she's doing well by the way) and I was able to ask what you were curious about.
She says that she has never seen that boy around the Griffith figure at all, but believed me when I said that he was able to bring him here. She now wants to ask him if she can come to visit me next time, which I would love so long as it isn't through him. She really has no idea where that boy could have come from or what he is, but she seems to think whatever he is, is like a bridge of some kind. That tree already exists, but it only seems to have real power if there is a connection between here and there. I don't really know, and thinking about it makes me feel like I have brain freeze.
Anyway, I was able to ask her if she knew anything about the name Gaiseric and all she knows is that he was once some great emperor whose kingdom vanished overnight. It would make for an excellent story in Beetle the Bard, but that's really all she knows. She also said Griffith never mentioned that name before so I'm sorry if that isn't much of a help.
But she did say that during her last sermon, Griffith said something about the divine right of kings and how it was a manifest for being able to rule. Neither of us really know what that means, but it sounds like something an emperor would say if that somehow connects.
Also, I did my best not to tell anyone, but Hogwarts does have a rumor mill and there are a bunch of things being said about last night. Some of them involve Harry and Mr. Guts fighting Professor Lupin as a werewolf. I'm sorry for not being able to stop some of them from spreading, but that would only make them more believable, I hope you aren't too mad because of it. Professor Lupin is fine as well and back to being the teacher we know and love, so thank you for what you did last night. The nargals have not infected your brains.
Your friend,
Luna Lovegood.
P.S.
I found my missing socks. Hey were hanging from some rafters.
Well, it did help to some capacity. The legend of Gaiseric seemed as close guarded as ever. And with this "divine right of kings," it only added to the growing list of clues he and Schierke were working on piecing together to decipher.
"Aye, Chief!" Roderick called down from the helm to them. "I don't mean to be the one to break up the circle, but we seem to have a visitor inbound."
Approaching from the starboard side was a lone rowboat being propelled forward by magic. In it was a lone occupant, one with a long, silvery beard and outlandish lavender robes. It seemed the headmaster would be paying them a visit. So much for having a moment of peace.
A/N: Fudge is reaching his tipping point and the Third Task draws closer than expected. On a side note, since I mentioned Patronus' last chapter, does anyone else see Schierke having an owl for hers? It was always a headcanon of mine that that's what it would be for her. Thank you for reading