Chapter Twelve
Tongues

The date of the next Hogsmeade weekend rolled around, and Harry was stuck, saying goodbye to Ron and Hermione, as they stepped out of the castle for a new adventure, to Hogsmeade. She stalked away, intent on heading back to the Room. Cecilia had promised her an entertaining afternoon, to take her mind off what she was missing out on.

She was just rounding the corner on the third floor when she heard a hissed, "Psst!"

She glanced around. "Potter!" George - or was it Fred - Weasley was whisper-shouting from behind a tapestry.

She took a guess. "George?" she asked.

"Close, but no cigar," he replied, smiling. Harry was getting better at sensing other people's minds, but someone clever could still get the drop on her, and she had to be able to see them. "Come on. We want to show you something."

It wasn't a trap - instead, it was looking rather promising - a pranking tool, or something to do with secret passages? Either way, she was intrigued.

Harry nodded, intrigued, and followed him through a number of secret passages, all the way to the other side of the castle - a trapdoor hidden beneath a rug, an invisible set of stairs, and a suit of armor that only opened a passageway when tickled. Harry grinned to herself. The Weasley twins clearly had something of a sixth sense for finding places like this.

He eventually led her into a room, sequestered near the front of the castle, where George waited, with an old, well-worn piece of parchment rested on the desk.

"So what's all this, then?" Harry asked, glancing at the piece of parchment.

"This," Fred said, sweeping his hand over it, "is the secret to our success."

"The one, the only," George added. Their amusement was sharp, prickling over Harry like needles.

"What?" Harry asked. "You're having me on, aren't you?"

"Of course not," Fred said, smiling. This was far more than just a piece of parchment. "It would be good, wouldn't it? But no. This is serious business."

"Well, you've never revealed your secrets like this before. What gives? I mean, we're friendly, but I'm just your brother's mate."

"Well, ickle Harrykins, there's a bit of a story here. In front of you is one of the heirlooms of Hogwarts pranksters, from the previous generation. A treasured artifact, from ages gone by, a reliquary of rule breaking, the grail of nighttime wanderings-"

"Alright," Harry cut in. "I get the picture already."

"You laugh, but there is far more to this innocuous slip of paper than you can imagine," George warned.

"I'm sure."

"Right!" Fred said, whipping out his wand and tapping the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Ink swirled out from the tip of his wand, flowing into thick lines, illustrating - a map, of the castle. At the top, words spun into being, reminding Harry briefly of Cecilia's diary. Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are proud to present The Marauder's Map, it read.

And, most importantly, little dots, labelled with names, showing the exact positions of everyone in the castle, even the three of them.

"This is awesome," Harry told them.

They grinned, identical smiling grins. "We thought so too," they chimed, together.

"But - I mean, do you want Galleons? This is… this is worth something."

Fred's grin turned a little bit sour. "We don't want your money, ickle Harrykins. We just want to pass something on to the younger generation."

"And that's me, and not Ron?" Harry asked.

George pursed his lips. "It isn't Ron, no. We like you more than him."

It was a joke, but it was also - well, Ron could go to Hogsmeade. They weren't about to say that, but it was enough to tip the scales. Harry sort of needed it more. Well, they theoretically could've just shown Harry one of the secret passages, but this was, admittedly, better. Gift horses in the mouth, and all.

"Brutal," Harry commented, laughing.

Fred nodded, sagely. "And you'd use it more, let's be honest."

"Many things, our dear brother is, but creative? Clever? Someone who doesn't get caught?" George asked.

"No," Fred answered for him.

Harry nodded, still dumbfounded at the entire idea of a magical map that told the locations of everywhere in the castle at once, at all times. The possibilities were enormous - it maybe wasn't quite as useful as an invisibility cloak, but it definitely gave the cloak a run for its money.

Curious, she searched for people she knew. Snape was lurking around the dungeons, and Dumbledore was pacing a tower up on the seventh floor.

"I'll share it with him anyway," Harry told them.

"Good," Fred agreed.

"Maybe if you go now, you can catch up with him."

"You mean…"

George pointed out. "Near as we can tell, these seven go out to Hogsmeade. These are blocked off, and this one's beneath the whomping willow. So your best bet is this one, through the one-eyed witch's rump at the end of this passage."

"Right, right," Harry said. "So, boys, if you don't mind, I'll be off."

"As you say," George agreed.

"Now, now, Harrykins, don't do anything we wouldn't do!"

"That leaves quite a bit open then, doesn't it?" Harry asked, grabbing the map and scampering.

"Harry," Hermione said, handling her essay. "I can't read this."

"What?" Harry asked, looking up. The common room was half-full, tonight, with a bunch of older years drinking from some smuggled firewhiskey.

"This essay. It's not - this isn't English, Harry."

"What?" Harry repeated dumbly. Ron looked up, confused.

"Did you do your homework in Runes, Harry?" he asked.

"No, this isn't… these aren't runes."

Harry looked at it, staring. Her head ached, from the strange characters. She could understand them.

"Is it… parseltongue?" Ron asked, in a whisper.

"No," Hermione cut them off. "I looked it up, after you told us you knew it. Parseltongue has no written component. This is… this looks like a language."

Hermione spent almost entirely too much time reading trivia, Harry thought. She did some reading, definitely - Cecilia directed her through most of it. But Hermione clearly devoured books whole, for fun, on whatever she could find.

"It's… I don't know, actually," Harry admitted. "But I can read it?"

"How?" Hermione demanded. Harry wasn't sure she wanted to know what she was thinking.

"I don't know," Harry said, the pain in her head spiking. "I didn't even know I knew. I didn't even know I wasn't writing in English until you pointed it out."

"Hold on," Hermione said, frowning. Her mind skipped through books she'd read, recently, almost too fast to track. "I was doing a bit of light reading and… hmm…" She rummaged around in her bag, and withdrew an enormous book. Runic Practices of East Asia, it read. "Here!" she shouted, triumphantly, holding Harry's homework next to the book. "Doesn't that look similar?"

"Blimey," Ron said. "Looks similar enough."

"Here," Hermione pushed the book towards Harry. "Try and read this."

She looked over the book - a long string of letters were there that suddenly made sense. It wasn't really like Parseltounge at all. When she spoke with snakes, it just sounded like English. This didn't. This was distinctly something else.

"I can," Harry said. "I mean, it's translated in the book, so there's no point in telling you what it means."

"Good," Hermione replied, decisively. "It's Korean."

"Hangul?" Harry asked, confused about where she'd gotten that word.

"Hangul? The language people speak in Korea?"

"It's the writing system," Harry explained.

"Is that like, a Muggle country?" Ron asked.

Hermione just rolled her eyes. "Yes, it is. It's part of the Empire of the Rising Sun in the Wizarding World, but in the Muggle one, it's two countries, actually. North and South. The distinction is interesting - the writing system was created, artificially, by their king. So I've been reading about it for Runes, because it's absolutely fascinating."

"Weird." Ron was frowning, staring at the parchment. "But Harry - think about it. You know Parseltongue too, right?"

"But this language - this isn't magical," Hermione stressed. "Look, I thought about it - Harry, what if you got your ability to speak to snakes from You-Know-Who?"

Ron burst out laughing. "What, are you thinking that Harry can speak Korean because You-Know-Who can? That's a bit of a stretch, innit?"

"I mean, how do we know Voldemort can even speak Korean?" Harry asked. Then she considered it. "I mean, is she British? Does anyone know?"

"She's definitely a Brit, mate," Ron put in. "Cos she's a pureblood, right? Death Eaters wouldn't follow her unless she's got the pedigree, innit."

"But her name is French, I thought," Harry said.

"Is it?" Ron asked.

"Well, yes, you can translate it, but I thought it was a family name, like Malfoy," Hermione muttered.

"What does Malfoy mean?" Ron asked, perking up.

"Bad faith," she said. "Don't laugh, Ron! But names like Granger or Potter are old words in English, but that doesn't mean that Harry makes pottery."

"Right, right, that's still hilarious. So you think V-Voldy's an old family name?" Ron was contemplative. "I mean, I've never heard of anyone like that. Sure, the Malfoys and the Lestranges have names that are french, but we know most of the major wizarding families. So why not use that name, if she had it?"

"You think it's because she can't use an established wizarding name?" Harry suggested. "That's pretty interesting."

"It's possible," Hermione said. "Maybe she's illegitimate, or something, and she doesn't want anyone to know. But we're getting distracted." She turned, primly, to Harry, her thoughts about Harry's irresponsibility as clear as if she was holding up a sign. "This is really concerning, you know, if you're learning these languages that you didn't know that you spoke."

"Well, I've always been able to speak to snakes," Harry told them. "I just thought it was weird accidental magic until this summer."

"But the Korean is new?"

"I think so," Harry said. "At least, this is the first time I've seen it. Magic's kind of wild, huh?"

"I think it's more accurate to say that your life is wild, mate," Ron put in. That was one of the nice things about Ron. He had very uncomplicated thoughts. "You've got no idea, huh?"

"No," she agreed. She didn't even know anyone who was Korean. And she hadn't had any recent changes to her brain. She had done that ritual, back in the summer, but Cecilia wasn't Korean either.

She opened her journal.

Do you know Korean?

What a strange question. And, Cecilia wrote something else, but crossed it out. I, another pause, do not believe so.

That's okay, Harry replied. It's just that I found out today that I was writing in Korean.

That is somewhat alarming. Have you participated in any rituals to give you unknown powers?

Harry frowned at that. Excluding the one I did this past summer? I have not.

I can't recall learning that language. You say that you were writing in it without realizing?

Yes. I thought I was writing English, and when I gave my notes, Hermione couldn't read them.

Cecilia's response took a second to come in. That is concerning.

You don't know what's causing it? Harry asked. Cecilia had never before not known something.

I do not. Do you know anyone who is Korean?

Harry pondered this. No? I mean, I might, but I don't know for sure that I know anyone, if that makes sense.

I suppose it does. This leaves us without likely suspects. However, we are not working from nowhere. You have knowledge of this language. Clearly, this knowledge didn't come from nowhere. Thus, someone must have this knowledge in order for you to gain it from them. Thus, it is exceedingly likely that the person who did this to you knows Korean.

Seems straightforward, Harry replied.

Hermione reached forward and snapped the journal closed, right in front of her. "Harry, don't disappear into that thing. This is important." Hermione's eyes bored into her. Harry could read her annoyance, clear as day, with Legilimency. Hermione really had a lot of emotions, didn't she?

"I know," Harry said, "but do we even know anyone that speaks Korean? It had to come from somewhere. Malfoy can't exactly curse me with something he can't know, after all."

"But how do you know that it was a person who did this to you?" she asked.

"I mean, it's not much of a curse, is it?" Ron put in. "Most people would find it pretty useful to learn a whole new language."

"But we don't know if anything else might have happened! What if it's malicious?"

"It hasn't been yet!" Ron said. "We don't know that it's necessarily going to be a bad thing!"

"But who would bother?" Hermione shot back. "Who would bother going around enchanting something to teach people languages without their consent?"

"Maybe someone is like, super enthusiastic about Korean?"

"Who?"

"No clue," Harry admitted. "I don't even know anyone that speaks Korean."

"That's a dead end, then," Hermione muttered.

"What about that rose you lent my sister?" Ron asked.

"That was just old Black family junk," Harry protested.

"But you just have Sirius' word on what they do, and let's face it, he's not the most stable guy around, is he?"

"But the Black family is real fancy pureblood, right?" Harry asked. "Why would they care about some language on the other side of the world?"

"Who knows? But unless you can think of other dangerous magical artifacts you've come across, we should investigate the ones we know. Right, so what artifacts do you have from Sirius' birthday present?"

"The rose, the ring, the boots," Harry listed. "But I've not really used the ring much."

"Hey," Ron put in. "Do you know any other languages? Maybe you've got a ton of them, rattling around in there, and we're just seeing Korean?"

"Why Korean, then?"

"Dunno." Ron shrugged.

"Right. Do you know any other languages, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think so," Harry answered. "But I'd have told you an hour ago that I didn't know how to speak Korean. Do you have any more helpful books that I can try to read? Maybe I know a bunch of languages?"

"Then why write your notes in Korean, of all things?" Hermione asked. "It's not exactly common, is it?"

"Dunno," Ron said.

"There's got to be a clue somewhere!" Hermione declared. "Alright. Here's what we'll do. Harry, give us those artifacts, and we'll each try out one. Ron can have the ring, I'll have the rose, and…"

"The shoes are probably not going to be teaching me any languages," Harry supplied. She could read Ron's amusement at that flick through his mind, like a firework going off.

"You could ask Ginny," Ron offered.

"That's not a bad idea."

"She's not here, though."

"We'll find her," Hermione said, promptly. "Now, here, Harry. Can you read this?"

Harry glanced over. More strange symbols that made a strange amount of sense. This was getting ridiculous.

"Yes," she told Hermione.

"Est-ce que tu parles français?" Hermione asked. Do you speak French?

"Oui," Harry replied without thinking.

"Blimey," Ron said.

"Right," Hermione said, half to herself. "There has to be a sensible explanation for all of this. People don't just learn languages automatically. You had to have done something! Think!"

"I have," Harry said, tightly. She avoided their minds, not wanting to know what they were thinking. It was not strictly true, but she trusted Cecilia's recollection - and her word. "Just let me write it down, maybe then I'll be able to do better."

"Why would writing help?" Hermione asked, sharply.

"My diary is enchanted for recall," Harry lied, through her teeth. "It's supposed to help me remember, so writing out a list of events that affected me magically will help."

"If you say so." Harry didn't need Legilimency to know that she was dubious at best about this. "Where'd you get it?"

"A second hand shop in Diagon Alley. I'll show you it next time we go. I think they had a bunch of them."

"I'll take you up on that," Hermione promised, primly.

Harry returned to the diary.

Français?

Oui. There's something up, then. Languages. And a possible bleed-through from the Legilimency ritual. But Korean doesn't add up. I'll need to think. And we'll need to run through languages I know, to see any other overlapping ones that you know and I don't.

Yes, Harry wrote. Cecilia always had a plan. It was reassuring to see.

Lupin was waiting, in his classroom, as she stepped in. He looked worn, and tired, today, his scars standing out in pale relief. He had moved all the desks in the room to one side, a loose space in the middle.

"Come in, Harriet."

She did so, softly stepping up to the middle of the room. "Hullo, Professor." She glanced around.

He smiled, looking vaguely pained, as usual. "How has your week been?"

She shrugged. He was awkward - almost as awkward as Sirius, but… well, a teacher, instead of her godfather. She didn't really have the same reason to put up with it.

"Alright," she said, slowly. It was sort of funny - she was, well, frankly a lot better at school these days. Cecilia was almost entirely responsible. A lot of the time she spent in class was sort of wasted - she'd spent a lot of her time learning stuff from Cecilia, and, well, she was an excellent teacher.

And that was the thing - Cecilia might not have been all that much better than Lupin or Flitwick or the rest, but personalized attention was worth its weight in gold. It was sort of more like she had a tutor, than a teacher. An apprenticeship, or, something like it.

It pertained mostly to Defense and Charms, although Cecilia did teach her a little bit of Transfiguration to go along with it. Herbology, Potions, and Astronomy weren't quite on the same priority.

And here, there was something a little bit…

Well, she was hoping Lupin had something good, because he had a fraction of the time that Cecilia had to teach her.

"Good, good," he said. "I assume that, well, you have enough practice learning curses. But I imagine actually simulating combat is new, for you. So, I thought we could start by measuring your abilities."

"Okay," Harry agreed.

He nodded. "So, begin when you're ready."

She glanced over at him, curious. Cecilia always started their little duels.

And, well, the pool of water behind his eyes wasn't really a pool of water as much as a storm of furious, many-limbed anger. So one of her biggest advantages in a duel was useless.

She raised her wand. She wanted to try a relatively new trick, one that Ceclia had just started teaching her. A way to cast, well, rapid-fire duplicate charms, in succession. So, instead of just one Cutting Charm or Bludgeoner, more than one, all in a cluster. Much harder to block, as it was. Eventually, it wouldn't be just one or two, it would be dozens, and then triple digits, and then it would be something to truly worry about.

But for now, she cast two identical spells, ones that tossed themselves up from nowhere - a quick loop and a twist, downward, with a slash, to the left, and -

"Deonjida."

A pulse of blue, and Lupin paused, for a half-second, before he dove out of the way. He paused, staring, wand held loosely.

"What was that spell? Where did you learn it?"

She frowned. "Somewhere."

"I've never heard of anything like it," Lupin admitted. He lowered his wand.

"Ah," Harry said. "Oh." Then she thought about it. "Oh."

"Yes?"

Her secrets were getting annoying. She didn't want to admit that she could randomly speak Korean, since, particularly, since that spell had come from the same thing. Which, if she thought about it, was very important for this sort of thing.

Shit. She folded her arms.

"Well," she explained. "It's Korean."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Korean is, well, did you know that the written form was invented?"

Lupin's eyes were wide.

"Well, see, in that region of the world, most people, magical and no, used the Chinese alphabet. But Korea didn't like that, so they did something about it. It's not that similar to Mandarin, so it makes sense - the muggle Emperor designed it in the 15th century, by hand. It took a while to sink in, of course, because the rich opposed the poor becoming literate, as all rich people are wont to do. So, well, the magical side adapted that, since the Imperials still ruled there. So, actually, using Hangul to create spells is actually very simple, arithmancy-wise, since it's designed to be easy to learn, and use. As languages go, it's remarkable..."

"I didn't know any of that, Harry," Lupin said, mildly.

"It's interesting." And it was - she wouldn't have looked into it, but she was considering doing a project for Runes on it now. It was much easier to start with that, if nothing else. "But anyway, most spells have multiple casting motions, that affect the properties, based on spelling. I used this motion," she demonstrated it, "so my spell was arrow-shaped. More force for less speed."

"Ah." He rubbed his head, awkwardly. "Well, I have to apologize. Here I offered to teach you, and well, you're teaching me."

"You wanted to see where I was," she pointed out, shrugging. "If you'd, er, like me to go…?"

"No, no," he protested, holding up a hand. "I was just curious."

"It's not something I think most people know much about," Harry said. "Well, at least, not here. I imagine they know all about it in Korea."

He snorted at that. "Right, right. Okay. Let's try again?"

"Okay," she agreed, and raised her wand. Maybe she'd just stick to curses that Lupin would recognize, this time.

In the Room, Cecilia was poking at Harry, magically. A staticy bit of magic, like a live current through a socket, ran over her.

"And you said that you knew spells?"

"Yeah," Harry admitted. "I mean, unless you've taught me them."

"No," she murmured. "So, instead, maybe we should list all the things you do know, that you're not supposed to."

"Uh, so far, it seems like, uh, foreign languages and foreign spells," Harry said.

Cecilia drew back, eyeing her. "Hmm." She stroked her mouth, one thin, elegant hand pausing on pink lips. "I hadn't considered that."

"What?"

"Well, I had been assuming that most of the languages that you could speak came from me, as a sort of bleed-over from the very effective sympathetic blood ritual we did," Cecilia explained. "And that Korean was an outlier. But, if we flip that around, and assume that you learned nothing from the ritual but what we intended to give you, things become rather more complicated - and possibly easier to understand."

"I don't follow. At all," Harry admitted.

Cecilia poked her, with her wand, rather aggressively, this time. "It's not that hard. Of course, I'm just guessing, so you probably have as much idea as me. But frankly, there are a collection of languages that anyone traveling in magical Europe and Asia ought to know. French, Demotic, Farsi, Japanese, the like. Although, India, linguistically, is… not so simple. There are dozens of languages there. And Sanskrit is a language commonly used for glyphs, like hieroglyphs and Futhark." She paced back and forth, adopting a lecturing tone. "But I digress. So if you're learning languages from me, then it makes sense that you'd know what I'd consider a good selection of languages in the magical world.

"But if you're not, then it stands to reason that whoever you're inheriting these languages from had a similar experience to me - although Korean is generally, an outlier, much like English would be. And Parseltongue, but that's a magical language. As in, it can't be learned. You're born with it, or you're not. Anyway, if we're thinking of a person that knows this collection of languages, it's… distinct, in terms of what they know and don't."

"Okay," Harry said, only sort of following. She took the opportunity to sit down, while she could. "I was mostly annoyed that I learned a whole bunch of new languages and only one was applicable to Ancient Runes. I mean, I want to do a project in Korean, but apparently Babbling doesn't know it, so she would struggle to grade it."

"Yes, well," Cecilia grimaced. "Runic languages seem to be more a function of where someone learns, than anything else. All this means is that our mystery person didn't go to Hogwarts. But it's good - we can identify this combination much easier. We just need to find someone that speaks Korean."

"Oh. Why didn't you say that already?"

"Because," Cecilia said, folding her arms. "I'm supposed to be teaching you. While this isn't necessarily something I'd expect you to solve on your own, doing the whole thing for you means you won't learn anything."

"I could have told you Korean was weird," Harry pointed out, rolling her eyes. "I wasn't exactly writing notes in Farsi, was I? And - well," she said, frowning. "Spells are like, muscle memory, too, not just knowledge."

"Pronunciation is muscle memory, too, don't forget." Cecilia paused, and rubbed a finger along her chin. "And yet, there is no obvious trigger for its manifestation. There is the ritual this summer, but why did it take so long to manifest?"

"Maybe it was just… you did say that I might get more of your abilities, didn't you?"

"Yes, but this isn't my ability. Neither me nor the original Cecilia learned any Korean. I'm certain of that. Which means…" She frowned. "Considering the ritual we did - it's not something that should happen. If it was, well, some rituals are designed to appeal to a higher power - Magic, itself, if you believe in that. Conceivably, it would be possible. Magic can do unusual things, after all, whether you think it has feelings or not. This wasn't one of them. This was designed to create a sympathetic link between two things - my diary, and you."

"And you said you don't speak Korean," she supplied. "And I didn't speak anything, since I've never left Britain."

"Yes," she agreed. "Well, English, obviously, but I take your point. Which means - this is either not the ritual, in which case we need to be on our guard, or there's something more to the diary than we know."

Harry felt a pit, open in her stomach. "What do you mean? The diary is just you, right?"

For once, Cecilia's cheeks had a hint of red. "It's… possible… that there is something hidden to me. It's the only thing I can think of. I've meditated on it, but there's very little I can do. I've had many years to come to terms with the makeup of my abilities, and I am relatively confident I know them comprehensively. If this is something else, it's entirely possible that it's been hidden from me."

"Oh," Harry said, slowly. She leaned forward. A part of her wanted to extend a hand, but she didn't want Cecilia to take it badly. "You did say, before we did that ritual, that there was a possibility of unknown effects. Could it be that the languages and the spells and such are just… knowledge, filtering through from somewhere else?" She shrugged. "Maybe the other Cecilia has taken an enormous interest in Korea."

"Yes," Cecilia said, stiff and awkward. She leaned over the back of a chair, too agitated to rest. "It's possible, but unlikely. Whole languages - the knowledge and manipulation of spells - these are no simple things. I designed that ritual to avoid them - I didn't want to unduly influence you, limit you by giving you skills. I wanted to give you talents - abilities that would grow with time."

"So this is just… unusual?"

"Yes. As with all rituals, it is… possible, but unlikely, considering that it has done more or less the opposite of what I intended to happen. Hmm." She paused, rubbing her hands together. "Something comes to mind."

"Oh?"

Cecilia frowned. "The last time the real Cecilia - my creator - wrote in her diary, she was in Alexandria, 1958. I had always intended to go there to find her, and retrace her steps. I had imagined that she had simply lost me, or… something else." She glanced down. "But… maybe she didn't. For some reason, it's possible that she erased some of my memories."

Harry felt goosebumps prickle up her spine. "Erase your memories?"

"Yes," Cecilia admitted. "It's possible that the language that I don't know comes from a time that I don't remember."

"Why would Other Cecilia do that?" Harry asked. She couldn't imagine the motivation. It seemed very cruel.

"I don't know, Harriet." She glanced away. "There are… normally I'd say that she'd never do that, but I can't say that for sure, anymore."

Harry sighed. She wasn't really much of one for hugs, but she wanted to… do something. She leaned forward, and folded her hands, staring Cecilia in the face and conveying all of her sincerity.

"We'll figure it out, okay? I'll make Sirius take us to Alexandria, and we'll find out. I promise."

"She was planning to come back to Britain, eventually," Cecilia admitted. "She might be dead. I don't know. But the fact that you're inheriting a strange ability I don't know about? That's… something else. There's also the question of how I got back here, to be written in by you. It's unlikely that it was just luck, I'd think."

"She'd better have a good reason, for hurting you like that," Harry growled. "I don't care how old she is, I'll thrash her."

Cecilia chuckled. The surprise and warmth of it hit Harry. "I'm sure you will, little weed. But let's not worry about such things, no? I think if you wish to defeat my counterpart, you have much training to do."

She stepped forward, and poked Harry in the chest.

Cecilia's eyes were dry, and bright, with something hard in them. "Don't think I'll go easy on you. We have a lot of work to do."

an: The Korean stuff is going somewhere cool, primarily feeding into this summer's subplot. I'm pretty excited for it.

You might have noticed a real gap in posting, but I was pretty violently opposed to anything in this fandom for a while because of Rowling's bigotry. She's awful for many reasons, don't get me wrong, but for me, there's a real difference between having problematic themes in your work and openly publishing hate speech and pretending you're oppressed for people attempting to stand up to you.

fuck terfs.