Sep 18
When the
Roses Bloom
Again - How
Times Change August 1956
He tapped the top of the desk impatiently with the tip of his
finger as he glared at his youngest son. It had been many
years since Arcturus had been so angry and disappointed in
a member of his family, not since Cassiopeia had aligned
herself with Grindelwald.
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The woman remained in St Mungo's, and though her
condition had improved considerably, she was not fit for trial
or to be released into society.
Arcturus shook his head of the thoughts pertaining to his
older sister, shifting them once more to the thoroughly
cowed Cygnus.
The boy had always been impulsive and hot-headed, but
what he had done this time was so foolish that Arcturus still
struggled to believe it.
At almost fourteen years old, the Lord Black thought he
had taught his son better, but evidently not.
He himself had never followed his father's example by
physically punishing his children, or by means of magic, but
it was tempting to do so now.
"Do you realise how monumentally you have fucked up?" he
snapped.
"I didn't think…"
Arcturus interrupted the retort by slamming his hand on the
desk.
"You never think, Cygnus!" he hissed. "Have you got shit
between your ears, boy?"
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The teen was hurt by the words of his father, but Arcturus
was too furious to care.
"Did you not consider the consequences? Did you not
consider her motivation for draining your balls?"
The boy blushed and looked towards his mother pleadingly.
Melania's nostrils merely flared in response.
Cygnus was granted a reprieve in the form of Elgar arriving.
"Lord Black, your guests have arrived."
Arcturus's jaw clenched and Melania rested a hand on his
forearm.
"Calm, Arcturus," she urged gently. "It will serve no purpose
to lose your temper."
"Show them in," Arcturus grumbled.
Only a moment later, a trio of people were led in by the elf
who vanished immediately.
Arcturus's steely gaze swept over them, coming to rest on
the sixteen-year-old girl who was looking at Cygnus.
The idiots even had the unmitigated gall to smile at one
another, though as Arcturus exhaled deeply, they broke eye
contact, both suddenly becoming nervous.
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"Did you put her up to it?" Arcturus questioned the man in
the group without preamble.
He was offended, and once more, Arcturus didn't care.
The Lord Black had not invited them for placation or
pleasantries.
"Of course not," Lord Rosier sputtered.
Arcturus grunted as he turned his attention to the Lady of
the family.
"Did you?"
The woman shook her head.
She was quite terrified, too terrified to have orchestrated
something so foolish.
"No one put me up to it," the girl huffed irritably. "It just
happened. It was a stupid thing to do, but we got caught up
in the heat of the moment. Has that never happened to you,
Lord Black?"
"Not until I was married, you stupid girl," Arcturus growled.
The girl, Druella, eyed him defiantly and was chastised by
her father.
"Enough, girl, you have caused enough problems."
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Druella narrowed her eyes at her father.
She was defiant, unafraid, and oddly, Arcturus felt his
respect grow for her.
Making a mistake was one thing, but owning it was another,
and Arcturus knew exactly how he was going to solve this
issue.
"When is the baby due?" he questioned.
"Four months," Lord Rosier sighed. "We only found out
about it a few days ago."
Arcturus waved off his excuse.
"I could do this one of two ways," he mused aloud. "I could
cut the little bastard out of her, and no one would be any the
wiser."
"Arcturus, no," Melania pleaded as the Rosiers paled.
Arcturus held up a hand to silence his wife.
"That would be the easiest thing to do in the circumstances,
but I have a better idea."
Lord Rosier swallowed deeply and nodded for him to
continue.
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"The two of them will be married," Arcturus said simply.
"Your daughter will become a member of my family. She
will have the baby, and when she is ready, I will pay for her
to be tutored for her NEWTs by a person of my choosing."
"That is very generous," Lord Rosier murmured.
Arcturus leaned forward in his chair.
"You will receive no dowry payment for her," he added, "and
that is me being more than generous, Rosier."
Rosier looked towards his wife who seemed to be pondering
the terms before she nodded.
"That is fair," Rosier agreed, offering his hand.
Arcturus accepted it and held on longer than was deemed
decent.
"If it ever comes to light that she acted on your behalf, I will
fucking bury your entire family. Do you understand me?"
Rosier nodded, wincing at the tightness of the hold
Arcturus held him with.
Eventually, Arcturus released the man.
"They will be married before my idiot son returns to
school," he declared. "He will do well, and he will provide
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for your daughter and the child. You have my word on that.
I will be in touch with a contract within a few days."
The Rosiers took the hint of dismissal, and Druella shot
Cygnus another smile before following her parents from the
room.
"Wipe that stupid smirk off your face boy!" Arcturus
snapped. "Do not think of this as a favour for you. If you
step a toe out of line once more, I will ensure that this child
will be the only one you ever produce. Now, get out of my
sight."
Cygnus all but ran from the room and Arcturus dragged a
hand through his hair.
"Fucking idiot," he cursed. "Where did we go wrong with
him?"
"We spoilt him," Melania sighed.
"We spoiled Orion too, but he's never done something so
stupid," Arcturus pointed out.
"Mostly because he is quite taken with Walburga," Melania
pointed out.
"Pollux's girl?" Arcturus asked with a frown.
Melania nodded.
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"They have been writing to each other for the past two
years."
Arcturus released a deep breath.
"I suppose his choice could be worse," he muttered. "It
would save me having to put up with the lords trying to
curry favour with me and queuing up to kiss my arse."
"The other lords won't like it."
"All the more reason to allow it," Arcturus snorted.
"So, you've given up on the idea of marrying him and Evans'
daughter?" Melania questioned as she wrapped her arms
around his neck.
"Evans would never sign a contract for her," Arcturus
sighed. "She will choose who she marries. Those are his
words."
Melania giggled amusedly.
"I think you forget that he is not a pureblood."
"And yet, he is perhaps the most influential person in the
country," Arcturus pointed out. "It's a shame he won't accept
the post as Minister."
"Why won't he?"
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"Because Harry doesn't want power," Arcturus replied with a
shrug. "He doesn't lack ambition, but he lacks the desire to
be in the limelight. You know what he is like."
"All too well," Melania acknowledged. "Do you think he will
change his mind?"
Arcturus shook his head.
"Never," he answered confidently, "but the more he refuses,
the more people want him to do it. He prefers to do his own
thing with his investments and taking the occasional year to
teach at Hogwarts when asked."
Melania shook her head confusedly.
"He's a strange man."
"But the best one I know," Arcturus said fondly.
Melania narrowed his eyes at her.
"You're going to have him tutor the Rosier girl," she accused.
"The thought had crossed my mind," Arcturus said
unashamedly. "She wouldn't do any better than him."
Melania nodded her agreement.
"What are we going to do about Cygnus?"
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"He's getting married," Arcturus pointed out. "He's going to
be a father, so he'd best start acting like a man."
"You're going to make his life miserable, aren't you?"
"The next four months will be unbearable for him,"
Arcturus replied mischievously.
Melania gave him a look of disapproval, but Arcturus missed
it.
He was too busy conjuring ways to ensure his promise was
carried out.
He would make a man of his son if it was the last thing he
did.
(Break)
Harry put an end to the magic he had been casting as a
knock sounded at the basement door. It would not do for
someone to encounter such a dangerous series of spells, and
though the room remained uncomfortably hot, it was no
longer a risk.
"Come in," he called.
It was Jack that entered, the boy resembling Harry so much
that the man often did a double-take at his appearance.
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Looking upon his son was like looking at his past self,
though Jack was not as grim nor tired looking like Harry
had been at his age.
"Dad, can you help me with my charms work?"
"What are you struggling with?" Harry asked.
"I'm not struggling, I just want you to explain something."
Harry snorted and prompted his son to continue.
Jack was a calm boy for the most part, introverted but very
protective of his sisters. The only time Harry had known
him to lose his grip on his cool composure was when
another boy had made a lewd comment about Rosa at
Hogwarts.
Harry could only assume that Jack had learned the toe
separating curse he'd hit the boy with from his library, and as
such, his son was banned from the basement along with his
older sibling.
Neither Harry nor Minerva had been angry with what he
had done, but the boy had been given a week of detention
from Slughorn who was his head of house.
Where Rosa had been sorted into Gryffindor, Jack had
become a Slytherin, a surprise for many, but not his parents.
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"What do you need me to explain?"
Jack released a deep sigh.
"In The Standard Book of Spells, it says that magic can be
manipulated when it has been cast, but it doesn't explain
how."
"What grade are you reading?" Harry asked with a frown.
"Three," Jack answered sheepishly. "I already finished
number two last year."
Harry shook his head amusedly.
"The reason it doesn't explain how is because it can be
dangerous to manipulate magic," he informed the boy.
"Even a simple spell can be volatile if you make a mistake."
"Really?"
Harry nodded as he cast a lumos.
"Do not try this," he said firmly.
Pulling the ball of light from the tip of his wand, he held it
in his free hand where he manipulated it to change shape.
For a moment, it resembled a Thestral, and then a
hippogriff before it settled in the form of a unicorn.
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"It is very easy to unintentionally change the nature of the
magic you have cast. You must have a focused mind, or
something like this can happen," he explained as he threw
the unicorn towards a training dummy.
A blinding flash, and loud explosion rent the air as the
dummy was reduced to little more than splinters of wood.
Jack stared between Harry and the damage, dumbfounded
by what he had seen.
"That's why it isn't in book three," Harry pointed out.
Jack nodded as a grin tugged at his lips.
"Well, I won't be messing around with that," he declared.
"Thanks, dad. Oh, and mum said lunch is ready."
With an amused chuckle, the two of them left the basement
and made their way to the kitchen.
"What was that noise?" Minerva asked.
"I was just showing Jack why he shouldn't attempt
manipulating magic," Harry snorted before kissing his wife
on the cheek.
"That boy is too curious for his own good," Minerva
grumbled.
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"I wonder where he gets that from," Harry replied, dodging
the swat Minerva aimed at his shoulder.
"The kids get their recklessness from you," she countered.
Harry could only nod his agreement.
"Are you planning on telling them?" Minerva asked coyly.
"No," Harry answered simply. "They will find out when the
others do."
Minerva shook her head, though she was pleased that Harry
would be returning to teach defence at the castle, for the
upcoming year at least.
"Has Albus convinced you to return permanently?"
"No, and he won't for a while yet," Harry huffed. "He's
determined, I'll give him that. I'm happy doing what I am."
"Locking yourself in the basement?"
"We both know what is coming," Harry replied darkly. "He
can't hide from me forever."
Minerva shot him a sad smile.
Although the magical world had been at peace for over a
decade now, Harry hadn't.
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Not a day went by that he wasn't preparing for another war
or following up on the ominous whispers that reached him
from across the continent.
With so much time having passed, it was as though
everyone had forgotten about Tom Riddle, but not Harry.
If he could catch up with the man before he inevitably
returned to Britain, it would be for the best, but regardless,
he would put an end to the man once and for all.
"Did you write back to Petr?" Minerva asked, breaking into
his thoughts.
Harry nodded.
"And Eleanor," he assured her.
The Russian wrote regularly and visited as much as he
could.
Petr was already being tipped to replace his father when the
man chose to retire but continued to serve as the head of the
Russian security services.
Eleanor had taught at the school for a few years before
returning home to Bulgaria where she had eventually
married.
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She now worked as a consultant for the auror department,
something that Harry found highly amusing since she was
still technically an escaped prisoner.
"Are you looking forward to it?" Minerva asked with a
smirk.
"To what?"
"Another year at Hogwarts."
Harry smiled as he nodded.
Although he wasn't ready to commit himself to the castle
full time, and perhaps never would be, the prospect of
returning always filled him with a sense of excitement that
nothing else did.
For him, it was like going home, the first place he had truly
been where he felt as though he belonged, despite
everything that had happened there during his formative
years.
"Always," he replied sincerely.
Minerva rubbed his forearm and placed a kiss on his lips.
It was her home too in many ways, and the place their lives
had begun together.
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"Do you have to do that?" Rosa groaned from where the
children were seated around the table. "We are trying to
eat."
"How do you think you got here, Rosa?" Minerva asked.
The girl grimaced, shaking her head in disgust.
"It's bad enough knowing it, we certainly don't need to see
it."
The girl had been this way since Minerva had relented and
explained the circumstances of how Harry and Minerva had
met, at Rosa's persistent questioning.
She had been horrified to think of her mother in such a state
of undress in the Gryffindor common room and her father
walking in on her.
For both Harry and Minerva, it was an entertaining trip
down memory lane at a time when things were simpler than
they had become, but they had been young enough to enjoy
a little naivety before things unfolded as they did.
"Will you still help me with some training?" Rosa asked.
Harry nodded.
The girl's love for flying had bloomed into a love for
Quidditch, and only the previous year, she had been made
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seeker for the Gryffindor house team, though she had
certainly been taken aback by how good her father was.
Harry was a natural at flying, and Rosa had grown up
watching him whilst he would supervise the children on the
Quidditch pitch in the grounds, but she had never seen him
play until the beginning of this summer.
The girl had been mesmerised by his ability and all but
demanded he trained her.
Harry did so happily, pleased to share something with his
firstborn that the others were either too young to truly enjoy,
or had little interest in.
Jack was an excellent flyer, but had no love for playing
Quidditch, and the twins wouldn't begin at Hogwarts for
another year, though both seemed to be determined to play.
"Why didn't you try to play professionally?"
That was the question Rosa had asked after their first
session, an innocent enough enquiry, but one that was not
simple to answer without Harry reliving the years that
followed his education.
"The world was a very different place then," he answered.
"The war," Rosa replied apologetically.
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Harry nodded.
It was the first time since Minerva had given the girl the
articles her first night of Hogwarts that she had mentioned
it, and having done so, she asked Harry questions about his
experiences.
It was not an easy thing to discuss, but he had answered her
honestly about his time as a Hit-Wizard, the things that
had been well documented by the media, and even the final
fight with Grindelwald.
When Rosa had run out of questions, she had hugged him
tightly.
"Thank you for everything you did."
Harry had been thanked by hundreds of people over the
years, but none meant more to him than the gratitude of his
daughter whom he had missed so much of her early years.
"I'd do it all again if I had to, for all of you."
Harry had meant it, and knowing just what was on the
horizon, he knew he would have to.
"Come on then, let's put you through your paces," he
chuckled, and Rosa sprinted from the kitchen to fetch her
broom.
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(Break)
The smell of blood was the first thing he became aware of as
he regained consciousness, and Lord Voldemort released a
groan before he opened his eyes.
He was covered in the viscous liquid, and the white walls
and floor had been sprayed during his brutal attack on the
woman.
She had not caused him offence, on the contrary, she had
been quite the useful companion, but she had outlasted her
usefulness now, and her life was better served creating his
second Horcrux.
Yes, she had provided him with some of the rarest tomes of
magic available to man, but that did not mean she had to be
spared.
She had been a curator at the library belonging to the Greek
Ministry, a building full of magical knowledge no longer
available to the public.
Voldemort had merely needed to charm the woman as he
had many others throughout his travels, and she had
willingly given him everything he required of her.
He had held on to the diadem in the hopes of unlocking the
magic contained within, but it was not to be. The relic
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would not yield what he desired, and that too was now being
put to better use.
Voldemort fought the urge to vomit as he stood on
trembling legs, a smile tugging at his lips as he rubbed his
bloody palms across his face and laughed heartily.
The excitement of a kill never failed to elicit such glee
within him, one of the very few things he felt now.
He had expected that he would one day become what he
had once been, but with the fragment of soul missing, he
simply hadn't.
Now, with another piece missing, he felt even less.
The nagging voice that would sometimes question his
intentions was absent, his mind focused only on his goals.
More power.
He wanted it all to himself, and he would obtain it.
Voldemort frowned deeply.
Power had never truly been his ambition, not outside his
own magical capabilities, and though he had pondered
grasping influence, he had never felt such a desire before
now.
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Was this another effect of creating Horcruxes?
Voldemort shrugged as he picked up the diadem and eyed it.
He needed to find somewhere to hide his Horcruxes.
It would not do to carry them around with him.
Shaking his head of the thought, he pocketed the
Ravenclaw relic.
There would be plenty of time to hide them, but first, he
needed to create more, and he knew exactly where he could
find two that were ripe for the picking.
"No," he muttered, "I am not ready yet, but I will be."
Lord Voldemort needed to be stronger before he made his
return to Britain, and though he didn't intend on
announcing his arrival, there was much more for him to do.
He needed to be stronger, to prove that he was worthy of
following, that his vision could be brought to life.
The former would be the easiest.
Thanks to his latest victim, Voldemort had acquired the
knowledge he needed to continue strengthening his magic.
When he was done with the rituals, and had acquired the
experience he needed, he would focus on his plan to return
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home where his campaign would truly begin.
With a final look at the mutilated corpse of the woman, he
left the house, his thoughts shifting to where he should head
next.
(Break)
Having attended a rather strange and unexpected wedding
of a boy younger than her and spending a considerable
amount of time on the Quidditch pitch with her father, the
summer had passed quickly, much too quickly for Rosa's
liking.
She'd always been close to him, but Rosa finally felt like she
understood the kind of man her dad was, though he was still
something of an enigma.
People loved him, respected him, and admired him, but it
was almost like he didn't want any of it.
To most, fame and fortune was everything, and influence is
what they sought, especially the purebloods, but not her
father.
Harry Evans wanted nothing but a quiet life, and Rosa's
respect for him only grew because of it.
She would miss him this year, more so than the previous
ones.
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It wasn't that she hadn't before, but with how close she felt
to the man now, it didn't feel right being away from him.
Rosa stared at her empty plate whilst the sorting took place,
and then Dumbledore giving the start of term address.
She was too busy thinking about everything she had learned
from her father.
Not just on the Quidditch pitch mind, but when she had
asked to see some of the spells he had used to kill
Grindelwald.
Much to Rosa's surprise, he had done so, and though she
knew that he was a highly regarded wizard, seeing what her
father was capable of was something else entirely.
He was an incredible wizard, and she finally understood why
he was so revered.
Rosa was pulled from her thoughts by an elbow knocking
into her ribs.
"Ow," she grumbled, helping herself to the food that had
appeared on the table.
"Are you okay?"
Rosa nodded.
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The girl who had jabbed her in the ribs was Celia Jones who
was a chaser on the house team.
She was small, nimble, and nigh on impossible to mark
when in the air.
"I'm fine," Rosa assured her. "How was your summer?"
The blonde girl beamed.
"I finally got a new broom, a Nimbus 400!"
Rosa smiled excitedly.
"Do you like it?"
Celia nodded.
"It is amazing," she gushed. "I can't see how they will top it."
Rosa couldn't either.
The Nimbus 400 was fast, and the handling on it second to
none.
"Shall we go and do some extra training in the morning?"
Celia's eyes lit up at the prospect, but the plates cleared, and
Dumbledore stood to address the room once more before
she could respond.
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"Now that we are fed and watered, I have only a few
announcements to make before you return to your common
rooms," he began. "Firstly, to new and returning students
alike, the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all. Mr
Hagrid will be watching vigilantly."
His gaze swept across the Great Hall, but there was an
unmissable twinkle of amusement in the headmaster's eyes.
Not a year went by where someone didn't venture into the
forest and found themselves in trouble.
It had become something of a game to do so, and usually
involved a dare of sorts.
"Secondly, the commodity known as a Fanged Frisbee, has
been banned within the walls of the castle," Dumbledore
continued. "Mr Pringle has affixed a list of other items to
the door of his office. If there is any doubt, please do refer to
it."
The students whispered amongst themselves, many unhappy
at the banning of the popular product.
"Finally, there is only one change to the teaching staff this
year," Dumbledore spoke over the din, silencing the
students. "Professor Finney will not be re-joining us for this
year as he has been commissioned to assist with a rather
important project, but I can assure you, his replacement will
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be able to teach you just as competently. Some of you older
students may remember him, so please welcome back,
Professor Evans who will be taking up the post of Defence
Against the Dark Arts."
There was silence in the room until the door to the side of
the top table opened, and Rosa's mouth fell agape at the
sight of her father.
The other students erupted in applause at his appointment,
but Rosa was stunned.
She had hoped that maybe one day she and her father would
cross paths at the school, and it had happened when she
couldn't have wanted it more.
Evidently, Dumbledore had dismissed them, but Rosa did
not leave the Great Hall. Instead, she walked towards where
her parents were talking to one another, her heart jolting in
her chest as her father smiled at her.
She all but jumped in his arms, and he laughed as he held
her tightly.
"Surprised?" he asked.
Rosa nodded.
"The best surprise."
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(Break)
Having taught a couple of lessons, Harry knew that teaching
Defence Against the Dark Arts was what he was meant to
be doing whilst he was at Hogwarts. As much as he'd
enjoyed teaching Transfiguration, it was not his passion.
Being in this classroom reminded him of the days when he
taught the DA, and though it made him feel quite
melancholic, his memories of doing so were amongst those
he held dear from his former life.
He looked on as the fifth years entered the room, Rosa
amongst them. The Gryffindors shared these lessons with
the Slytherins, and even those garbed in the green and silver
robes looked upon him with respect.
It was something Harry had never gotten used to. He had
become accustomed to the sneers and snide comments, and
though that had been what seemed to be a lifetime ago, it
was not something he had forgotten.
"You will not require your books today," he declared.
Obediently, the students returned them to their bags before
placing them on the floor.
"This year, you will be sitting your OWL exams," Harry
continued. "It is my job to make sure that you are ready for
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them, but it is also my job to ensure that you are capable of
defending yourselves from the Dark Arts. For the next few
lessons, I will be learning what it is I need to teach you for
both. Any questions?"
"Will there be homework?" a large boy in Slytherin robes
grunted.
Harry eyed him, recognising the troll-like features.
"There will be homework, Mr Crabbe, but how much I give
depends on how hard you work in here. Now, during your
exam, you will be expected to demonstrate your ability in
practical defence. Today, we will begin with the basic shield
charm. Can someone tell me the advantages of using it?"
"It is able to be cast quickly," a girl in Slytherin robes
answered.
Harry nodded.
"Take a point for your house, Ms Zabini. Can anyone
demonstrate it for me?"
Rosa raised her hands and Harry gestured for her to do so.
He had taught her the charm during the summer before her
fourth year, so he had no doubt she could do it.
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"Good," he praised. "Take a point for Gryffindor. What are
the disadvantages of the shield charm?"
"It is not very good against stronger curses," a Gryffindor
answered.
"Another," Harry requested.
"It limits your movement."
"Good. Another."
"It is tiring to maintain."
Harry smiled as he nodded.
"What should you do if you can instead of casting one?"
"Avoid a curse."
"Excellent," Harry returned, clapping his hands.
The chairs and tables slid to the sides of the room and
stacked themselves neatly.
"Despite its impracticality, the examiner will expect you to
be able to cast it," he explained. "You will work in pairs,
practicing shielding against minor jinxes and hexes only," he
added firmly.
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The students set to work, and Harry watched them for the
remainder of the lesson, offering tips to those that were
struggling, and also suggestions of other spells that could be
used by the attackers.
There was certainly room for improvement for the most
part, but when it was time for them to leave, there were few
that had not made progress.
"I want eight inches on the advantages and disadvantages of
using a shield charm," he instructed as they gathered their
bags and were readying to leave. "Off you go."
They filed out, most whispering excitedly, happy with the
lesson they'd just had.
"And what can I do for you?" Harry asked Rosa who had
remained behind.
"Nothing, I just wanted to say that you're a natural at this."
"Did your mother tell you to say that?"
Rosa giggled and shook her head.
"No, I wouldn't involve myself with hers and Dumbledore's
scheme to get you to stay. Will it really only be for this
year?"
Harry nodded.
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"Albus is already looking for someone else," he explained. "I
love being at Hogwarts, but now is not the right time to be
here permanently. Maybe that day will never come."
Rosa smiled sadly.
"If you love it here, then why don't you stay? We're all old
enough that you don't need to be home. The twins will be
starting next year, and Jasmine isn't a baby anymore."
Harry deflated.
How could he explain that he would need to be ready for
when an enemy that very few knew existed would return?
He couldn't, but he wrapped an arm around his daughter's
shoulder.
"There is more to my life than you lot," he snorted. "I like
my peace and quiet and working on other things."
"I know, but it's nice having you here," Rosa sighed. "You
look really happy."
"I am," Harry assured her. "Hogwarts was my first home,
but it isn't my home any longer."
Rosa huffed irritably as she rolled her eyes at him.
"Will you be at dinner later?"
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Harry shook his head.
"Nicholas and Perenelle have invited your mother and me to
theirs. We haven't seen them for a while."
"Uncle Nic is back?"
"For now," Harry snorted. "Come on, you need to be going
to transfiguration. I wouldn't put it past your mother to give
you a detention."
"She would too," Rosa grumbled before hugging Harry and
leaving the room.
Harry simply chuckled as he began preparing for his next
class.
It was good to be back and teaching what he was best at,
even if it was only for one year.
(Break)
For the past seven years or so, Nicholas and Perenelle had
spent no more than a few weeks at their home in France. As
much as both of them were fond of the country, and their
memories here, it hadn't felt the same since the war had
been concluded.
Much had changed in the intervening years. Even the
remains of the neighbouring house had been cleared away,
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leaving nothing but a patch of scarred land in its place.
Nicholas had always been against war of any sorts, but the
last had been more devastating than all the others he'd
experienced combined.
His gaze drifted to Harry who was spooning some of
Perenelle's broccoli soup into his mouth.
He truly was a good boy, and one of the few things Nicholas
and his wife appreciated in life.
Inevitably, his thoughts drifted to his four-legged
companion whom he had buried a few months prior, and
the alchemist swallowed a lump that formed in his throat.
He missed Camille dearly.
She had been with him for but a blink of the eye that was
his life, but she had left a lasting impression on him.
"What's wrong, Nic?" Harry asked worriedly.
Nicholas wiped away the tears that had unwittingly formed
before he looked towards his wife who nodded solemnly.
Without a word, he reached into his pocket and removed a
wrapped package on the table before sliding it towards the
younger man.
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Harry frowned as he opened it and dropped it on the table
with a dull thud as though it had burned him.
The man knew what it was he had been given, and his
expression said more than any words he could ever speak.
Nicholas knew he had made the right decision.
"What is this?" Harry asked accusingly.
Nicholas released a deep breath.
"It's yours to do with as you please," he explained. "You can
use it, or you can destroy it. It makes no difference to us."
Harry looked between Nicholas and Perenelle who was
nodding her agreement.
She took Nicholas's hand, her expression and following
words almost pleading.
"Take it," she whispered emotionally.
"I can't take this," Harry sighed.
"Please."
Harry said nothing, his posture sagging before he shook his
head.
"Why?" he croaked.
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"We've had enough," Nicholas said simply. "The world has
become something that we no longer recognise. In the last
century, it has changed so much, and in another, it will only
become worse. We've discussed it, and we are in agreement
that now is the right time. We are tired of burying those we
care for, and that is all we have to look forward to. Albus
will go, then you, and then your children. It will be never
ending, Harry."
"Now, we have someone we can entrust the stone to,
someone we know who will not abuse it, or allow it to fall
into the wrong hands," Perenelle explained. "Giving it to
you means we can rest easy."
"That's it?" Harry asked.
"That's it," Nicholas confirmed. "We will no longer take the
elixir, and we can pass on our own terms. The stone is yours,
and all we ask is that you respect our decision."
Once more Harry looked between them before nodding his
understanding.
"I won't use it," he said firmly, "but I won't destroy until you
are gone, just in case."
Nicholas chuckled.
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"We won't change our mind," he assured the man. "I would
encourage you to use it for yourself. The world will always
need a man like you, Harry."
"Others will come along," Harry snorted.
"You'd think that," Nicholas mused aloud, "but in all my
years, I've never met someone like you, and it has been a
refreshing pleasure. You've proven to be a good man."
"The best we've known," Perenelle chimed in.
Harry opened his mouth to speak but fell silent as Minerva's
hand came to rest on his thigh.
"Put it away, Harry, that's a good boy," Nicholas urged.
"Perenelle has made you a treacle tart."
Harry could only laugh as tears streamed down his cheeks,
and though the man was taken aback, and deeply upset,
Nicholas knew he respected their decision.
He didn't like it, but he made no further effort to talk them
out of it.
Harry placed the Philosopher's Stone in his pocket, and it
would be the last of it that either Nicholas or Perenelle
Flamel would see.
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Comments (9)
Another fantastic chapter and the ending made me tear up a
little bit
They would have a few more years of life to enjoy together,
but finally, after more than six centuries of living, they were
ready for their journey to end, and they would be forever
grateful that it would do so at their own behest.
For them, time had become nothing but a commodity, but
with only so little of it left, they could finally appreciate how
precious it was.
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AvidReader2425 2 weeks ago · 0 Likes
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Lovely chapter, now to deal with dear old Tom
Some heavy stuff, but also some nicer lighter stuff, too.
Great chapter; I really like your story a lot. I'm sorry if I'm
being rude or annoying you with my reviews; I don't mean
to be rude or annoy you with my reviews; I just really liked it
a lot.
Great story. I enjoyed the slice of life that was that Black
and Evans families. The Flamels going ws a bit sad.
@Erick, That's pretty much what I wanted to say. :) Total
agreement.
Eli Rose 3 weeks ago · 0 Likes
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When the Roses Bloom
When the Roses Bloom
Again - My
Somehow I knew that Harry would have the stone, though I
expected Flamel to make him another one, and not choose
to die so soon. But, oh well.
I really do hope that Harry uses it, if only to retain his youth
so that he can be ready for Tom. When the time comes, he
can just stop using it like the Flamels did.
Great chapter!
Indeed! And perhaps even to stay around till his old self is
born to James and Lily.
I totally agree
Erick A month ago · 0 Likes
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Author/Site Owner: Lee : TheBlack'sResurgence
Email: (For all enquiries)
Again - Two in One
Father, My Hero
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