The Past stirs The Future

Chapter 12

Max wasn't one for idle chat, Hermione ascertained. He just quietly walked beside her. They were circling through the fourth tier, where he was looking for a present for his grandmother. They came across a shop with a long queue of wizard, goblin, dwarf and elf children and Max frowned. "I don't remember this place."

Hermione smiled. The sign above the shop read: Zonko's & Weasley's Concordian Joke Shop. "It belongs to a friend of mine…he's a major shareholder in the joke shop chain. Would you like to go in?"

"I think my grandmother is a bit too old for jokes."

"Come on! What's the harm?" She grabbed his hand to drag him into the shop, but she felt resistance as his pose stiffened. He was looking down at their joined hands apprehensively. Hermione let go of his hand. "Sorry."

The tall Ranger's cheeks flushed. "It's okay," he mumbled.

He proceeded into the queue, the crowd of children parting for him, and Hermione followed in his wake. She'd noticed that many people gave him plenty of room to pass as he came by. He did have some sort of a predatory air about him, and Hermione guessed that was what caused people step aside for him.

"Hey you, wait in line just like everybody else," she heard George's voice say. Then the tone changed. "Wait, I know you! The distant cousin…Wolfe, right? Well, well, Sleeping Beauty… up and about again. When did you wake up?"

"Umm…I…well," Max was stammering, when Hermione came around from behind him. "Hi, George."

"Hermione! What brings you here?" George asked.

Hermione nodded to Max, who had stalked off and was now examining a bag of Ton Tongue Toffees. "Max and I are looking for something for his grandmother."

"I think I've got just the thing." George said, as he ducked beneath the counter and came up with a small box. Hermione saw a bunch of small containers. One far salt, one for pepper, and a bunch of unmarked ones. "They're for spices," he explained. "You fill them up with the spices, and they're charmed to recognise what's in them. The cook just has to say what he wants and the container floats over to him. But you've got to tickle the containers to get them to release their spices."

"Sounds funny." Hermione smiled.

"Have it on the house." George nodded. "As a thank you for that dinner she made us." He handed it to a short woman who looked remarkably goblinesque, to wrap up.

Max came up and stood beside Hermione. He nodded at the goblin woman. "Didi."

"Ranger Wolfe," the woman replied. "It is nice to see you are conscious once again."

Max nodded again, and stalked off into the store once more.

"A ray of sunshine, isn't he?" George whispered. "Is he Ron's replacement?"

Hermione blushed. "What makes you say that?"

"Just joking!" George grinned. "My, you're easy to bait lately."

After leaving the joke shop, Hermione and Max decided to walk to the sixth level, instead of taking a portal. The weather was a bit cloudy, but it was a relatively warm day.

Max was quietly walking beside her again, with the package tucked under his arm.

"So…" Hermione began. She hated to walk in silence, so she was feverishly searching for a topic. Then it came to her. "Tell me, how exactly do you do all that wand-less magic when you're fighting?"

He gave her a bewildered look. "What do you mean? I just do it. Are you asking how I learned it?"

"When…where…from whom!" Hermione continued. She hoped that he would indulge her, because she didn't really know anything about this. She had read some books about wizards who were able to do what Max did, but the information had been rather vague.

Max seemed to think it over. Then he exhaled. "Okay, my Master Lei…that's my great grandfather, taught me the art."

"Does it have a name?"

He shook his head. "No. It's just martial arts with the added dimension of magic."

"How come so little is known about it?" Hermione asked.

Max gave her a shy little smile. "Well, if you stop interrupting me, I'll tell you," he mumbled.

Hermione blushed. "Sorry. Carry on."

Max nodded. "The reason so little is known about it is because few wizards practise it. I guess it isn't really necessary for most wizards. I do it because it can come in very handy in a fight. I don't want to rely on my wand. The sad truth is that many wizards are vulnerable without their wands. When faced with a Muggle, they could probably Apparate to safety, since you don't need to be holding your wand for that. But I need to be able to win a fight without my wand."

"And why doesn't it have a name?"

Max smiled. "The practitioners of the art met about 200 years ago…to come up with a name. They couldn't agree on a name, and it nearly became a free for all brawl…or so Master Lei told me."

"So, how long does it take to master this art?"

"It depends. I started learning magic really early, so I had an advantage. You must have mastered many forms of wand-less magic before starting to incorporate magic in your fighting. Many people are a bit older, say in their thirties, before they start to learn the art. Most of them have day jobs, so their progress is slow."

Hermione took a moment to absorb the information. She was also getting a bit frustrated, because he was being very vague about all of it. Then she continued. "Right…but which aspects of magic, would you say, should someone know before starting to learn this art?"

"I'd say you'd have to be highly skilled in wand-less charms. Most of the techniques are wand-less charms. But I guess I doesn't hurt to be highly adept at transfiguration. Charms always came naturally to me, but I had to work very hard at my transfiguration in Salem, despite the fact that I had a head start on most other students. I guess you could say it's my weakness."

"Really? But Galatea told me you had three ordinary wizarding skill credits for transfiguration," Hermione said. These were the ordinary wizarding levels by the American name. She'd read about it in An Appraisal of Magical Schools World-wide. "You've reached the expert level in your fifth year, and you skipped a year too. I'd hardly call it a weakness."

Max blushed. "Well, you got three O.W.L's as well."

Hermione blushed in turn. She was rather proud of it. It was exceedingly rare that a student got three O.W.L's for any given subject. If this was accomplished, the N.E.W.T's would just be a formality regarding that particular subject, since it could be considered mastered by the individual in question.

Many students got no O.W.L's for their weak subjects, one for their average subjects, and two for the ones they were good at. The highest totals would usually be twelve or thirteen. This could be considered a very good result. Sometimes, once every ten years, there would be a particularly brilliant student who'd get fifteen or sixteen. But getting more O.W.L.'s than that was considered madness, even though it was theoretically possible to get thirty O.W.L.'s if you had ten subjects. In retrospect, Hermione still wasn't sure how she'd managed to get twenty-two.

"So I may assume that you got three credits for Charms too?"

Max nodded. "Without any problems. I could have taken my Charms O.W.L's before going to Salem."

"So what was your total score?" Hermione asked. Galatea hadn't told her that, and she really wanted to know.

"Sixteen. Three for Charms, Dark Arts Defence and Transfiguration, two for Astronomy, and one for my other subjects. Master Lei wasn't happy that I only got one O.W.L. for Herbology. He became a herbologist after he retired from the Order of Illumination," Max explained. "He said I should have gotten at least two."

"Oh," was all Hermione could say. Max's great-grandfather sounded like a very tough taskmaster. "What choice subjects did you take? " she then asked.

"What is this? Rita Skeeter's one hundred questions?" Max frowned.

Hermione looked down at the cobbled road, embarrassed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

Max shook his head and smiled bashfully once more. "Well, if you must know, I took Care of Magical Creatures, and Ancient Runes."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Ancient Runes?" Max never struck her as the bookish type. "Why Ancient Runes?"

Max shrugged. "I wanted to take Muggle Studies, but Master Lei wouldn't let me. He said I wouldn't learn anything. I reckon he was right."

"But you're a pure-blood, aren't you?"

"I am." Max nodded. "But Master Lei and I always lived among Muggles. Whether in Hong Kong, New York, Manaus, or Amsterdam."

"You lived in all those places?"

"Yeah. Master Lei owned an herb shop in Amsterdam. We lived there until I was six. Then we moved to Manaus where we'd go out into the jungle to find some herbs…we spent a year there. After Manaus we lived in Hong Kong for another three and a half years. Then we moved to New York. Master Lei is still living there."

"Let me guess, he's got an herb shop." Hermione ventured a guess.

Max nodded and smiled, and they continued to walk in silence for a while, giving Hermione time to contemplate all this information.

She was really pleased that he'd opened up to her a little. But something was still bothering her. Why had he reacted so strangely why when she'd been examining his hands? Did her fancy her? There was nothing else for it. She could torture herself over it, like she had with Ron in her sixth year. But she was older and more mature now. It would be much easier to just ask. The worst thing that could happen was total humiliation, but that was nothing compared the torturous insecurity. "Max?"

"Yes?"

She tried very hard not to blush. "When I was patching you up? Why…err, why did you…well…"

"Why did I what?"

"WhydidyourheartbeatfasterwhenItouchedyourhand?" There, she'd said it!

"What?" he asked, looking completely bewildered. Then he caught on, and Hermione saw his deepest blush so far. "I…um, I don't know."

"D'you fancy me?"

He looked down at his shoes. "I dunno. Maybe?" he ventured, carefully glancing up from his shoes and looking at her.

Hermione couldn't help but to laugh at the answer. "Maybe? That's the best answer you could come up with?"

He shrugged helplessly. "You're a girl."

"Yes, thank you for noticing," she chuckled. Then she frowned. "So that's it. I'm a girl."

"Well…a woman, actually," he corrected.

"My, aren't you sharp!" Hermione laughed.

"You're smart…and…pretty…and your hands are really soft," he explained, "And you're really brave. I know all about how you helped Harry fight Voldemort." He paused before continuing. "But I don't think I fancy you! I can't really explain my reaction. I guess…I dunno. Maybe I thought I fancied you at the time. You're the only girl ever to hold my hand like that…except for Galatea."

To her relief, Hermione wasn't nearly as disappointed as she thought she'd be upon rejection. She'd just realised that despite the attraction she felt, she really didn't like Max like that. "You fancy Galatea…don't you?" she asked, with a knowing smirk on her face.

Max shook his head and Hermione's eyes widened. "You don't?"

"I love her," he said softly…more to himself than to her.

Hermione smirked again. "Then why don't you tell her?"

He suddenly looked panicked. "I can't! And I need to swear that you won't tell her either."

"Honestly…"

"Swear it!" His voice had suddenly turned into a menacing growl, and the mask was back in place. He had erected his barriers once more. But Hermione wouldn't be deterred this time…she wouldn't be fooled by the facade.

"But…"

He grabbed her by the arms and pushed her against the side of a building. "You can't tell her," he repeated.

"Max, you're hurting me!" she whimpered. His grip was so strong she felt he would crush her arms.

Startled, he relaxed his grip at once but repeated pleadingly. "Please, she can't know!"

"If you tell me why, I'll promise not to tell her."

Max thought it over and then nodded in agreement. He took a deep breath and started speaking. "Master Lei has many enemies. They are my enemies as well. Athanasios Anastasiou is one of them. He killed my mother and grandmother when I was two days old. Master Lei said Anastasiou would have killed me too if he hadn't reached me in time. I can't drag Galatea into my life…it would only endanger hers. I don't want anyone to know how I feel about her."

Hermione regarded him steadily. "I think that should be Galatea's decision. Harry did exactly the same thing, and he never got a chance to tell Ginny…and now look…"

Max suddenly moved very close to her, bent down and covered her mouth with his. Hermione stiffened at first, but his warm lips felt good…and cursing her weakness, she relaxed into the kiss. She didn't know how long it lasted, but she was definitely dazed when she came out of it. Then her resolve returned, and the alley they were in resounded with the sound of the slap she gave him. "You bastard!"

Max cradled his cheek. "I didn't mean anything by it, but you were about to talk about You-Know-Who."

"What does Voldemort have to do with this?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

"Not him!" Max groaned. "Who were you talking about before I…err, interrupted you?"

Hermione's eyes widened. She'd been talking about Harry, and they weren't allowed to talk about him outside the Citadel lest someone mention his survival by mistake. She'd nearly said too much, and Max had stopped her. "But that still doesn't explain why you kissed me," she said accusingly.

Max blushed and nodded to a sign. Sensu Alley, it read. And Hermione knew it to be the infamous snogging alley for Concordia's young citizens. "I think I saw someone following us. It could have been a spy. I thought this was a good way to send them a bogus signal…I'm sorry!" he said, rubbing his cheek.

"A spy? What kind of spy? Shouldn't the city's screening process keep people like that out?" Hermione whispered

"Anastasiou is extremely intelligent," Max whispered back. "I'm sure he has one or two spies in Concordia."

"Oh!" Hermione said. Then something occurred to her as she looked into Max's dark brown eyes. If it had indeed been a spy, he now believed she was Max's girlfriend. That would probably make her a target by association!

Max winced. "You're right. I've endangered you too now! See why I can't let anyone else get close?"

Hermione realised that he'd read her mind again. She shook her head. "Don't worry about me. I'm used to being a target by association…Harry Potter's friend…remember? And you shouldn't shut anybody out because of this. Then she stirred, looked down and frowned. Max was still pressing close to her. "That had better be your wand!"

*

Hermione was relieved when she found that Galatea was at the Citadel, when she and Max had arrived at the town house. Even though the kiss hadn't meant anything, she was feeling a bit guilty about it, and Galatea would have picked up those feelings of guilt immediately, leaving Hermione to come up with an explanation. She knew she'd have to tell her friend eventually, but at least she had a bit more time to ponder how exactly she'd tell Galatea.

The door recognised Hermione and swished open. Hermione stood aside to let Max go in first, letting the door know that he was welcome. "Go on ahead to the dining room Max," Hermione said, taking his cloak.

Max nodded, not looking her in the eyes, and walked into the parlour. Hermione sighed. He was still uneasy about that moment. She couldn't believe what he'd told her later…that it had been his first kiss. Apparently he was a natural then, because there hadn't been anything clumsy or awkward about it. Not that Hermione had had many examples for comparison. Ron had been the only man she'd ever kissed before! In fact, kissing Max couldn't be compared to kissing Ron at all, Hermione decided. Her first kiss had been magical, the culmination of nearly two years of dancing around one another and harbouring deep feelings for each other. She remembered, with a dull ache in her chest. This kiss had been just a kiss. A very exciting kiss that had made her knees buckle, true, but still.

The followed Max into the dining hall, finding him thoroughly embarrassed as his grandmother hugged him. "Oh, my baby! I'm so glad you're all right, sugar!"

"Grandma…you're embarrassing me!" he mumbled.

"You're never too old to give your granny a hug," Tempeste admonished. "Now sit down, and I'll go fix you some lunch."

Max nodded. "Thanks Gran."

Hermione looked at Commander Ironheart. "Commander, I've been meaning to ask you something earlier, but I didn't want to ruin such a touching moment," she said, referring to the reunion of grandfather and grandson.

"Ask away."

I was wondering. Do you read people's minds all the time, or can you shut your gift off at will?"

"I can shut it off at will." He smiled. "I'm not using the gift right now. It's quite a burden to read people's minds all the time. That's how a mind-reader learns to shut off his power in the first place…to prevent all the buzz from driving him insane."

"Isn't there a faster way to accomplish this?" Max frowned. "I don't want to intrude on people's privacy like this."

Ironheart smiled. "What do you mean?"

Max shook his head. "Not in front of Hermione."

So Ironheart concentrated briefly, and looked into his grandson's eyes. Then he started laughing out loud. "I'm sure Hermione already knew that."

"What?" Hermione asked. She hated to be left out of discussions, even though that had been a discussion she couldn't have participated in even if she'd wanted to, for lack of the mind-reading gift.

"That Matthias is seeing Janice!" the Commander chuckled.

"Oh, that!" Hermione giggled. Captain Faust and Lieutenant Cliff were in love, and though they tried to keep it a secret, nearly everybody in the Citadel knew about it. "Everybody knows that, Max."

Max grimaced. "I just came out of a coma…and while you know they're together you don't know what they were up to last night." He shuddered as he seemed to remember.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Do I want to know?"

"Not likely," Max grumbled.

It was too late. Her curiosity had been piqued. She was really developing a bad habit, but while she'd worked with the analysts, she'd developed a taste for ferreting out people's secrets. Hermione shuddered. She was turning into Rita Skeeter…she had to fight this with all her might.

"You really don't want to know!" Max said, and that gave Hermione the strength to overcome her curiosity.

Ironheart laughed and patted his grandson on the shoulder. "You know…I really didn't expect you to inherit the gift."

"Why is that, Commander?" Hermione asked.

"His father didn't inherit the gift." Ironheart explained. "Mind-reading is passed down a bloodline, like being a beast-master, empath or Parselmouth. All these gifts are passed down certain bloodlines, but they are known to skip generations."

"They can also be transferred magically," Hermione said, thinking about Harry's status as a Parselmouth.

"Yes, but those instances are exceedingly rare and often occur accidentally," Ironheart pointed out.

Hermione nodded, and Ironheart continued. "We don't really know why, but only one descendant of the gifted person in question inherits the gift." He looked at Max and smiled. "So now that Max has manifested the power, I can stop watching my other grandchildren for signs. Still, I'm a bit surprised that the gift has manifested itself in you so late. It should have manifested itself during your childhood."

Max frowned. "Why didn't it?"

"I have no idea." Ironheart shrugged.

"Maybe he repressed it sub-consciously," Hermione offered. She didn't presume to know Max very well, but she thought she knew enough about him to make that assumption.

"Why do you keep talking about my repressing stuff," Max grumbled. "I don't repress."

"If you say so!" Hermione smirked.

"And don't patronise me."

"Who's patronising?" Hermione said, her smirk growing.

"Stop it," Ironheart interrupted, grinning from ear to ear. "You're behaving like a married couple!"

"We are not!" Hermione said shrilly, feeling her face grow warm. She glanced at Max and saw that he wasn't doing a good job hiding his blush either.

"My, I think I just struck a nerve here!" the old Ranger teased.

"That's not true…I like Hermione very much, but I…" Max began, but then he stubbornly closed his mouth.

"You like Hermione…how sweet!" Tempeste, who was levitating a huge tray full of pancakes behind her, said. Plates and cutlery also came zooming out of the kitchen, and the table magically set itself.

Max helped himself to a large stack of pancakes. "I don't like Hermione like that." He finished his sentence shyly and looked at Hermione, who suspected that Max was only this loose when he was with his grandmother. "I don't really know you very well, but you've been helping me a lot, even though I've been a pri…" A warning look from his grandmother made him decide to change the word he'd been about to use into: "…prat…to you before. I'd like to be friends."

Hermione blushed a little. "That's okay." She was used to it. Ron's childish behaviour had really made her suffer at times. He'd always made up for it one way or another, but it had still been painful. "And we are friends."

"Well, I didn't want to presume anything."

"Honestly…" She shook her head and smiled. "I accept you friendship proposal, Maximilian Wolfe," she said pompously. "There was that formal enough for you?"

Max smiled his usual shy smile, and nodded. "I guess." Then without further delay, he started wolfing down his pancakes.

As he progressed, Hermione found herself surprised at the fact that someone could eat so much so quickly. He was positively stuffing himself, and she guessed that table manners were one thing he'd never learned about. She felt another ache in her heart as the image strangely reminded her of Ron.

An owl flying in through a window caught Hermione's attention. It landed in front of Max and stuck out its leg which had an envelope tied to it.

Max swallowed down his food and wiped his mouth before reaching for the owl and untying the letter. The owl took off immediately after being relieved of its burden, and Max read some strange glyphs on the envelope. "It's from great-aunt Mei," he said, before opening the letter. He then carefully read the letter and put it down with a shaking hand. "Master Lei…he's dying. He wants to see me."

"Dying?" Ironheart frowned. "He's only one hundred and six."

Max drew a shuddering breath. "When we went into the Amazon, we got into a bit of a scrap with a Vipertooth that was obviously a little way out of its primary habitat. In fact, Master Lei heard stories from the natives about a large flying serpent, so he decided to take it out. He succeeded, but not before the Vipertooth's fangs grazed his shoulder and left a bit of poison in the wound. His survival was miraculous, but he never completely recovered his health."

"Why was I never told about this?" Ironheart frowned.

"He didn't want anybody to know. He thought I'd be taken away from him if his failing health became known…Commander, I have to go to him!"

Ironheart frowned. "That may be a problem. No one may go on leave right now. Not even for a deathbed visit. I wouldn't want to show favouritism."

"Please!" Max said, his voice cracking, and for the first time Hermione saw his eyes misting up.

"Commander…isn't there any kind of danger in that area…anything with which you can justify Max's departure?" Hermione asked.

"Well, the Jersey Devil has been stirring up some trouble lately, but it isn't anything the local Ministry wizards can't handle," Ironheart said thoughtfully. He started pacing about. Then he smashed his fist onto the tabletop. "That's it!"

"What's it?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"Well, you haven't registered that improved cerebral revival potion yet, have you?"

"I thought I'd test it a bit more first. Galatea did the necessary tests before giving it to Max, but I'm still not completely comfortable with it."

"You could test it properly in Salem's Magical Medicine Institute, and insist that you want to supervise the procedure. I could send you and Galatea…and Max as evidence of the potion's potency…and your bodyguard."

"Will that stand up to the Order's scrutiny?" Hermione asked, feeling doubtful. After all, she was a Ranger. Shouldn't she be able to beat a host of foes? "It isn't really that dangerous."

"Well…" Ironheart said cautiously. "Until that thing that did a number on Petra is found…I don't want two of my brightest Medical Rangers to go out unescorted, especially because there are so few of you already. I'm sure Nehanda will support me on this. Lei used to be her mentor as well."

Hermione had to smile at Ironheart's deviousness. That could actually work…it was believable! "When do we leave?"

"How fast can you pack?" the old Ranger asked.

*

It was amusing to see how Max held Galatea's hand like she were a little girl, as he guided her through the crowds of the densely populated city. The only times the witch had been in an area that was even remotely similar to New York City, had been when she'd visited Paris with her family. New Caledonia was quite sparsely populated, and the Southern Cross School of Sorcery and Spell-casting, the school she had attended, was also in the middle of nowhere on an unplottable island in the South Pacific. Southern Cross was the alternative to Bunyips Wizarding Institute in the Australian outback, Antipodean Academy for Witchcraft and Wizardry in New Zealand and schools on the Asian mainland…like Bap Lung, which meant Eight Dragons. Hermione had read about it in An Appraisal of Magical Schools World-wide. Many Polynesian and Melanesian students attended Southern Cross, and even Chinese and Australians chose to attend Southern Cross instead of their own schools sometimes.

Max walked to the storefront of an old herb shop and pushed the door open. The scent of incense washed over them, reminding Hermione of her brief time in Divination. An elderly man came up to them. Hermione guessed him to be in his early eighties.

"Uncle Long." Max nodded.

"Maximilian," the man said, returning a similar nod. Hermione noticed he had the same stiff pose that Max so often adopted. "Father is expecting you," he continued, in remarkably good English. "May I have the names of your companions?"

Max looked at Hermione. "Hermione Granger from England."

The old man gave her a curt nod. "May I assume that you attended Hogwarts?"

"Your assumption is correct, sir."

"I attended Hogwarts too." The old man nodded. "Hufflepuff House, like my mother."

Something clicked in Hermione's mind as she remembered. This man was Rose McKinnon's son. He was related to Mrs Weasley. "I was in Gryffindor."

"Good house to be in…Gryffindor…but Hogwarts is a good school. My father was in Slytherin," Long said evenly.

Hermione couldn't cover her surprise as she looked at Max. "Your great-grandfather went to Hogwarts? You never told me that."

"You never asked." Max answered evasively and nodded towards Galatea. "This is Galatea Angelou, from New Caledonia."

"Nice to meet you," Galatea said nervously, prompting Hermione to smile. To Galatea, this probably felt like being introduced to the family.

"Angelou…now why does that name sound so familiar? From New Caledonia, hmm? Ah yes, you father is a Herbologist, isn't he? Armand Angelou?"

"Yes sir," Galatea said, her face lighting up.

"Good man…Armand," Long said evenly, not betraying any emotion. The he gestured towards something that looked like a storage closet. "Well Maximilian. Don't keep him waiting!"

Max walked over to the closet and opened the door. Hermione saw it was a secret passageway with stairs leading down.

He lead them through a corridor lined with doors and finally came to a halt outside a door at the end of the hall. He took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock on the door.

"Stop wasting time and come in, Maximilian," a raspy old voice said.

Max's face contorted into a grim smile. "He sounds just fine to me," he mumbled and pushed the door open. On the other side, they encountered a stooping little Chinese man with rather large ears, a long moustache drooping down his face, and a few wispy white hairs on his head. He was leaning heavily on a cane, but his eyes were shining with determination.

"You don't look very good," Max observed.

"You won't look this good when you reach my age," the ancient man challenged. Then he exhaled, and the shine left his eyes. "I've been living on willpower, Maximilian," he continued as he hobbled to his bed, where an elderly lady was waiting for him patiently. "I've become sick…old and weak!"

Max took the cane as the old man reclined on the bed. "Master Lei…Aunt Mei these are my friends, Hermione Granger and Galatea Angelou."

The old man coughed uncontrollably, and the woman Hermione assumed was his daughter had tears welling in her eyes.

"Hermione Granger," Lei said, after he'd stopped coughing. "I read about your achievement. Impressive!" He looked at Max. "This idiot could have gotten at least twenty O.W.S.C.'s, but he wasted too much time in getting that third credit for Transfiguration"

"I don't need this!" Max grumbled as he turned around and prepared to leave.

"No, Max…please…don't leave!" Lei said feebly. "I'm sorry!"

Max's eyes widened in surprise. Hermione guessed that Lei Li had never apologised before, and he'd said Max instead of Maximilian.

"Please…" He gestured to the chair next to his bed, and Max sat down reluctantly.

Lei took a deep rattling breath, and tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes as they lost focus. "Won't be long now…I'm sorry for all the things I put you through, in your childhood. But I had to prepare you, you see." His thin old hand grabbed Max's. "I failed…I'm so sorry."

"You didn't fail…Master Lei." Max said, his voice strangely strangled. "You did a good job. I'm very good at what I do, and have some good friends!" He looked back at Hermione and Galatea and smiled.

"I guess you turned out all right, despite the things I did to you," Lei said, his breathing becoming more laboured. "But there is something you don't know…something only I know. I've kept it to myself…all these years. A heavy burden…so heavy!" he said tiredly.

"What are you talking about…Master Lei?" Max asked apprehensively.

"When Anastasiou and his foul creatures killed my dear Lin…and you mother, on Christmas Eve in 1976, I was too late! I wrote everything down in a journal, for you to know…you need to know." He patted a small green book on the bed. Then Lei took another laboured breath before continuing. "Read it…"

"I will." Max said solemnly.

The corners of the old man's mouth turned upwards as his eyes came to rest on Galatea. He pulled Max closer and whispered something in his ear.

"What?" Max frowned.

"Never mind." Lei heaved an exasperated sigh. Then he looked at Max. "Son…I've done some things I am not proud of. I've been touched by darkness too many times."

"It never consumed you…Master Lei. You don't have anything to be ashamed of."

Lei shook his head. "I made some horrible mistakes, Max, it's all here," he said, patting the green diary again. "Forgive me!"

"I'm sure it can't be that bad, but if it is forgiveness you need, I can forgive you," Max said quietly.

"Thank you!" Lei said. Then he looked at Galatea again. "Come here, young lady."

Galatea took a tentative step forward.

"Yes, come over here…stand beside Max…don't be afraid."

Galatea went and stood beside Max.

"Now give me your hand," he said, and he took Galatea's pale hand in his. Then he brought his other hand over and put Max's hand in Galatea's. "Take care of him! He thinks he doesn't need anybody…I taught him that. I was wrong…I never gave him the love he deserved…he needs it…love. Please…love him!" Then Lei released his last breath, and his hands fell back limply onto his chest.

"Master Lei?" Max mumbled, looking on in disbelief. His lips started quivering and a few sobs managed to escape him, accompanied by a few tears. Galatea sat down in his lap and put her arms around him, stroking his hair softly his tears wet the collar of her shirt.

Aunt Mei's reached over and closed Lei's eyes. "He waited for you to get here…so he could die in peace," she said, speaking for the first time since they'd entered the room. Then she picked up the green diary and gave it to Max. "I don't know what's in it. He'd been writing quit a lot in it the last few days. I think he had a lot on his conscience. I suggest you read it as soon as possible."

Max nodded and asked, "What will we do now, Aunt Mei?"

"Now we mourn," the woman said. "You are his sole heir. Long and I thought that you had the best claim, since he raised you like a son, so we gave up our shares. We didn't need it." She gave Max a sad smile. "He really did love you, you know."

Max nodded and looked at Hermione. "I guess we'd better go to Salem."

"No." Hermione shook her head. "You and Galatea can stay here. I'll go to Salem by myself," she said, wanting to give Max the chance to mourn his great-grandfather properly…something he needed to do, for his own sake. It seemed that the old man had given him a nudge in the right direction, as far as his situation with Galatea was concerned. Maybe he'd listen to his mentor, where he'd ignored Hermione's advice.

"But…"

"Don't argue with me, Max. I'll be fine. I'll just Port Key to Salem and come back after I'm finished."

"You can stay here after you come back," Mei offered. "All my grandchildren are grown up. It'll be good to have some people in the house once more."

"That's very kind of you," Hermione said. Then she took out her Port Key, tapped her wand to it and told it where she wanted to go and half a heartbeat later she felt that sensation in her navel, and she was off to S.M.M.I.

***