As more about James's complicated past unravels itself, Harry is beginning
to learn more things about his late Godfather. But when he discovers too
much about the Marauders, Harry's life is thrown into a fatal vortex.
Voldemorte is back, he's already failed countless times in killing Harry,
and he doesn't intend to fail again.
Between The Heavens, a Trial of Faith: Chapter 15, Crossroads of Life
"Bloody hell," Michelle said slowly as her eyes wandered to Tawny flying through her window, dropping off a small letter at her desk.
It was lunch time, and the rest of the school was, or at least should be, in the Great Hall, and one week into the semester, and Michelle was already back to her old anti-social behaviors. James had hated it, he complained about never seeing her, about how Sirius saw her more often than he did, but at the time he was blinded by his ignorance to Michelle's life.
Michelle, I can't say too much in the letter, but somehow Lucius knows you're around, we can only assume that others may know as well. I got an owl from Hermione three days ago telling me that they have a Hogsmaede trip coming up, since I haven't heard from you since our meeting before the term began, I figured that you somehow missed the announcement. Interested in meeting for tea? There's still a bit to discuss. Remus
As an old precaution, Michelle read the letter out loud to herself, just to make sure it sounded like Remus, it did. She closed her eyes tightly, this had not been a formal letter, therefore did not demand a formal response. He was correct in thinking that she had missed the announcement, and he had good reason to, she was sure.
"Remus," she said aloud, "Three Broomsticks, at noon. I'll supply the drinks, if you supply the info."
It sounded genuine enough. The problem was that if Remus read it and thought that Michelle was trying to buy information with alcohol, or worse yet that she was giving him some type of charity. Both were true enough, but that didn't mean that she wanted him to know this.
For the first time in several years, Michelle had felt some type of writer's block. This is a disgrace, she thought violently, manipulation through writing was what got me through school, and now I can't even write a letter inviting Remus to drinks properly.
"Remus," she said again, this time imagining him the room with her. "Three Broomsticks, don't fancy meeting up in the Hogs Head. Tea sounds fine, but hard tea sounds better, I'll supply the drinks, you supply the information. Noon fine for you?"
Yes, that was better. It was longer, and took time to explain her a bit more, it ended with a question rather than a demand, so any concern he might have about being bought with liquor would evaporate in his mind when he was forced to answer.
She attached the letter to Tawny's leg, and sent her back, she should get a response by tomorrow, it wasn't a long fly from her office to Remus's cabin; she knew this. With nothing to do, and a good forty minutes until her next class, Michelle stood up and walked out. Shadow would be fresh by the lack of riding, and she took a gander and figured that a good gallop would do them both good.
Walking outside, Michelle was hit hard by the scent of life slowly coming to an end. Fall was coming up, and fast, the trees were turning, the grass was no longer as green and sweet as it had been only a few weeks ago, and flowers were no longer swaying vibrantly in the air.
She looked far and wide, but Shadow could not be seen. Shrugging this off easily, Michelle headed for Hagrid's hut instead.
Shadow had never stayed around Hogwarts for long periods, magic scared him, it brought something out of him that Michelle figured not even he understood.
"Hagrid," she called knocking on his door. The dog's bark threw her back in mild fright.
The door swung open, "Hagrid," Michelle said exasperated, "when the hell did you get a dog?"
"Hullo Michelle," Hagrid said, "spot of tea? Jus' put some on."
"Yeah, sure," she said, still looking cautiously at the dog.
"Fang's 'armless," Hagrid said, continuing to grin happily, opening the door wider, allowing for her to step in slowly.
"Hello, professor," Ron said from the table, Hermione sitting across from him.
Michelle shook her head slowly, her right leg muscle twitching slightly; then she focused her attention back to Hagrid. "I can't stay too long, unfortunately," she said, "but I had a bit of time to kill, and my mustang, it appears, has taken off on me."
Hermione suddenly looked up, "no he didn't, Michelle, we came out here about three minutes ago and he was just standing outside the door, I remember because Harry pointed him out."
Michelle shook her head, "Where did he go?"
"I don't know," Ron said shrugging, "probably wanted to do some grazing, or maybe-"
"Not the horse, Ron," Michelle cut him off abruptly, "where did Harry go?"
"Oh, he just said he was tired and went back to the castle," Hermione said lightly.
"Fuck it," Michelle breathed, "bloody hell, just a quick question, Hagrid, what the fuck, from his past actions, brought you to the conclusion that Harry doesn't do stupid things on the spur of the moment?"
"Now Michelle," Hagrid started, "he's made mistakes-"
"He hasn't 'made mistakes' Hagrid, he's taken off with my horse. You know the one, right? You know where that horse could take him if Harry asked properly!" She was beginning to get more and more hysterical with every passing moment. The fact that she knew that Shadow would respond to having Harry on his back almost as well as he'd respond to her was frightening.
"I'll be back," she said slowly, and left the cabin.
Stepping back outside, Michelle knew where Shadow would take Harry had he the choice, the matter in question was whether or not Harry would allow himself to be taken there, if Harry took control of the steering, there was no thinking how far Shadow would run.
If you hit a dog hard enough, he will never come near a raised fist again, and Shadow was the same way. Shadow remembered more often than he forgot, and Shadow knew a Potter when he felt one. He had tasted Michelle's blood, and he knew James's scent, but the boy was neither, instead he was a mixture of all of them, or Sirius, James, Michelle and the muggle-born that Shadow had never allowed him near. Muggles were evil, and even worse were the muggle born wizards.
Despite this all, Shadow recognized the same urgency in the young Potter child as he had sensed in another young Potter child fifteen years ago.
Harry had never been allowed on Dudley's rocking horse as a child, but this must have been what it felt like. He desperately regretted not grabbing a saddle or reigns, but it had seemed simple enough. There was something about him; something that Harry felt when he looked at Sirius, or when people spoke of his father. He felt safe, even though he was holding onto the mane for dear life as Shadow galloped along.
Between The Heavens, a Trial of Faith: Chapter 15, Crossroads of Life
"Bloody hell," Michelle said slowly as her eyes wandered to Tawny flying through her window, dropping off a small letter at her desk.
It was lunch time, and the rest of the school was, or at least should be, in the Great Hall, and one week into the semester, and Michelle was already back to her old anti-social behaviors. James had hated it, he complained about never seeing her, about how Sirius saw her more often than he did, but at the time he was blinded by his ignorance to Michelle's life.
Michelle, I can't say too much in the letter, but somehow Lucius knows you're around, we can only assume that others may know as well. I got an owl from Hermione three days ago telling me that they have a Hogsmaede trip coming up, since I haven't heard from you since our meeting before the term began, I figured that you somehow missed the announcement. Interested in meeting for tea? There's still a bit to discuss. Remus
As an old precaution, Michelle read the letter out loud to herself, just to make sure it sounded like Remus, it did. She closed her eyes tightly, this had not been a formal letter, therefore did not demand a formal response. He was correct in thinking that she had missed the announcement, and he had good reason to, she was sure.
"Remus," she said aloud, "Three Broomsticks, at noon. I'll supply the drinks, if you supply the info."
It sounded genuine enough. The problem was that if Remus read it and thought that Michelle was trying to buy information with alcohol, or worse yet that she was giving him some type of charity. Both were true enough, but that didn't mean that she wanted him to know this.
For the first time in several years, Michelle had felt some type of writer's block. This is a disgrace, she thought violently, manipulation through writing was what got me through school, and now I can't even write a letter inviting Remus to drinks properly.
"Remus," she said again, this time imagining him the room with her. "Three Broomsticks, don't fancy meeting up in the Hogs Head. Tea sounds fine, but hard tea sounds better, I'll supply the drinks, you supply the information. Noon fine for you?"
Yes, that was better. It was longer, and took time to explain her a bit more, it ended with a question rather than a demand, so any concern he might have about being bought with liquor would evaporate in his mind when he was forced to answer.
She attached the letter to Tawny's leg, and sent her back, she should get a response by tomorrow, it wasn't a long fly from her office to Remus's cabin; she knew this. With nothing to do, and a good forty minutes until her next class, Michelle stood up and walked out. Shadow would be fresh by the lack of riding, and she took a gander and figured that a good gallop would do them both good.
Walking outside, Michelle was hit hard by the scent of life slowly coming to an end. Fall was coming up, and fast, the trees were turning, the grass was no longer as green and sweet as it had been only a few weeks ago, and flowers were no longer swaying vibrantly in the air.
She looked far and wide, but Shadow could not be seen. Shrugging this off easily, Michelle headed for Hagrid's hut instead.
Shadow had never stayed around Hogwarts for long periods, magic scared him, it brought something out of him that Michelle figured not even he understood.
"Hagrid," she called knocking on his door. The dog's bark threw her back in mild fright.
The door swung open, "Hagrid," Michelle said exasperated, "when the hell did you get a dog?"
"Hullo Michelle," Hagrid said, "spot of tea? Jus' put some on."
"Yeah, sure," she said, still looking cautiously at the dog.
"Fang's 'armless," Hagrid said, continuing to grin happily, opening the door wider, allowing for her to step in slowly.
"Hello, professor," Ron said from the table, Hermione sitting across from him.
Michelle shook her head slowly, her right leg muscle twitching slightly; then she focused her attention back to Hagrid. "I can't stay too long, unfortunately," she said, "but I had a bit of time to kill, and my mustang, it appears, has taken off on me."
Hermione suddenly looked up, "no he didn't, Michelle, we came out here about three minutes ago and he was just standing outside the door, I remember because Harry pointed him out."
Michelle shook her head, "Where did he go?"
"I don't know," Ron said shrugging, "probably wanted to do some grazing, or maybe-"
"Not the horse, Ron," Michelle cut him off abruptly, "where did Harry go?"
"Oh, he just said he was tired and went back to the castle," Hermione said lightly.
"Fuck it," Michelle breathed, "bloody hell, just a quick question, Hagrid, what the fuck, from his past actions, brought you to the conclusion that Harry doesn't do stupid things on the spur of the moment?"
"Now Michelle," Hagrid started, "he's made mistakes-"
"He hasn't 'made mistakes' Hagrid, he's taken off with my horse. You know the one, right? You know where that horse could take him if Harry asked properly!" She was beginning to get more and more hysterical with every passing moment. The fact that she knew that Shadow would respond to having Harry on his back almost as well as he'd respond to her was frightening.
"I'll be back," she said slowly, and left the cabin.
Stepping back outside, Michelle knew where Shadow would take Harry had he the choice, the matter in question was whether or not Harry would allow himself to be taken there, if Harry took control of the steering, there was no thinking how far Shadow would run.
If you hit a dog hard enough, he will never come near a raised fist again, and Shadow was the same way. Shadow remembered more often than he forgot, and Shadow knew a Potter when he felt one. He had tasted Michelle's blood, and he knew James's scent, but the boy was neither, instead he was a mixture of all of them, or Sirius, James, Michelle and the muggle-born that Shadow had never allowed him near. Muggles were evil, and even worse were the muggle born wizards.
Despite this all, Shadow recognized the same urgency in the young Potter child as he had sensed in another young Potter child fifteen years ago.
Harry had never been allowed on Dudley's rocking horse as a child, but this must have been what it felt like. He desperately regretted not grabbing a saddle or reigns, but it had seemed simple enough. There was something about him; something that Harry felt when he looked at Sirius, or when people spoke of his father. He felt safe, even though he was holding onto the mane for dear life as Shadow galloped along.