Hi! Chapter 8 here!

Title: The Future is Waiting

Chapter 8: The Ashworth Tradition

Several weeks later, Harry found an unpleasant surprise at the dining hall at breakfast.

"What is he doing here? He just got out of Azkaban because the dementors quit their job, and he thinks he's welcome?" Hermione hissed into her porridge. Lucius Malfoy had just walked up the marble front steps of the Bridgework castle.

"Probably nosing around, you know him," Ron said, scowling at the figure far away. "And look, his little boy's running up to see him."

For Draco Malfoy had just stood up from one of the circular tables that scattered the hall. He walked towards his father, looking around.

"What's he trying to do? Boast about his dad?" Ron said irritably.

"Y'know what? I think Lucius Malfoy's here to nose around what we're doing. I mean, we were sent here to get away from Voldemort, weren't we?" Harry said as Ron whinced.

"What? He's feeding You-Know-Who on where we are? You-Know-Who's gonna try and come here?" Ron said.

"That could be," Hermione said. "Wait – He's coming in!"

Lucius Malfoy followed his son, who had entered the mass of tables. They stopped at one near the middle, and Lucius Malfoy bowed low.

"Who're they talking to?" Ron said, craning his neck for a better view. "Aah, I can't see… Hey, isn't that Lair coming up?"

Iris Lair was marching past tables and stopped in front of Draco, who was busy watching his father talking to someone who was sitting. Lair greeted Lucius Malfoy, and he straightened up and greeted Lair as well. They engaged in a conversation, then the person Lucius Malfoy was talking to stood up.

"Hey! Isn't that…? Isn't that…" Ron said.

"Rose," said Hermione in a hushed voice.

Lucius Malfoy bowed low again, and Rose left him bowing. Harry could see Lair glaring at her back as she walked away from the table. She entered a corridor and disappeared from view.

Harry found Rose and Malfoy sitting quietly at Defense Against the Dark Arts that afternoon when lesson had not yet started. Then, Malfoy excused himself to Rose, saying that he was going to the bathroom. Harry seized the opportunity to ask.

"You didn't tell me you knew Malfoy's dad," he said quietly.

"What? Oh… Is it important?" Rose said. This made Harry smile. "What?"

"Well, I thought you were, like, close to them or something," Harry explained.

"You heard Lair before. Her nagging about family friends. The Ashworths and the Malfoys were family friends. So now I'm forced to fake smiles at the Malfoys as I'm the only Ashworth left," Rose said. "And I can't try to ignore them because my great-great-grandparents were foolish enough to bind the two families with an everlasting promise of friendship, so take off that scowl."

"'Everlasting Promise of Friendship'?"

"Ancient magic. Unbreakable. Made to doom me."

"There must be some way out of it," Harry said.

"None. None at all. When I first met the Malfoys, I was about five then, I read a whole library of books trying to find a countercharm. I spent six years on that. When I was eleven, I gave up the research since I was already going to Bridgework. I couldn't have unlimited free time then,"

"So, you're bound to the Lairs as well?"

"Yeah. I don't think there's any Seer blood in the Ashworths, or they might've realized they'll be giving their last descendant demented family friends for family substitutes," she said casually.

Harry fell silent. He'd never talked about his parents this was, as though it did not matter to him. He had always felt that the topic of his parents' death was delicate that he discussed it only with the people he thought would understand. But then, maybe Rose thought he'd understand her talking about his family. They suffered the same fate, anyway. But he still thought Rose was really brave, talking like that.

"You think that's already awful enough?" Rose said after a while.

"Why?"

"You haven't heard anything yet. There are a lot of other hideous traditions the Ashworths follow. I learned about them from the servants. Honestly, I'm glad their gone, or they'd have forced me into following those traditions as well."

Harry fell silent once more. He realized that Rose was not so much of brave; it was more like Sirius' case. She did not like her family, that's why she'd glad they're gone.

"I must sound like the black sheep now, right?" Rose said.

"What?"

"I don't blame you for thinking that way. I mean, everyone thinks my family sacrificed themselves for me to live, and now I talk badly about them."

"Well, yeah…"

"But that's the problem. I don't want to sound ungrateful as well, but they did not exactly give their lives to save me. Maybe they didn't even know if anyone was watching over me at the time Voldemort came…"

"Please take your seats, everyone…" came Yamamoto's wheezy voice before Harry could respond. Rose seemed to notice the uneasy look on Harry's face.

"Listen, I don't know what you're thinking. But don't feel sorry for me. And please don't think that I am ungrateful –"

"Is everyone here already?" Yamamoto said in front of the class just as Malfoy sat back down beside Rose.

"Save your questions for later, but I promise I'll tell you everything you want to know. Please, Harry, please don't think like everyone else does…"

"Today, we will start on lessons about Defensive Spells in both Oriental and Western wizardry. Now, defense varies in many ways, and adding the diversity in classification of Oriental and Western, we may find ourselves lost in this assortment. Therefore, in this lesson, we will identify similar defenses in Oriental and Western classification, so as to narrow down the selection, at the same time save energy. Also, in this lesson, we will…"

But Harry did not hear what else they would do in the lesson about Oriental and Western Defensive Spells. His mind was swimming in a pool of shocking, enlightening thoughts and facts. He wasn't realizing anything, yet he thought that the things he found out meant a lot. Maybe, if he talked it over with Ron and Hermione that night, it would start making sense. Maybe Hermione, as always, would be able to think up an explanation to everything.

But Harry failed to talk to them, for they were nowhere to be found that night. He sat down by the fire in the sixth years' common room with one question waiting to be answered. Why did Voldemort want to kill the Ashworths? Harry was not sure whether he'd have the guts to ask Rose about this, and he had not even decided whether he really would ask, when Rose turned up.

"Where're Ron and Hermione?" Rose asked, sitting opposite Harry. The common room was quite empty, so they could sit anywhere they want.

"Dunno… Can't find them anywhere…" Harry said, pulling up a piece of thread from the carpet and throwing it into the fire.

He was waiting for Rose to ask another question, something like "How was the homework?" but nothing came. When he looked up, he saw Rose staring into the fire, but not really seeing it.

"The Ashworths had another tradition of passing all their powers to the youngest of next generation. 'Their powers' mean the ancient powers the Ashworths have. Protection from enemies, powerful assault… You can live even if it was all you had.

"They had a policy, one child for each family. My father had two sisters and many other cousins. They had children, thus the next generation. But among that most recent generation of Ashworths, I was the last to be born. I was the youngest, so the powers were given to me.

"My grand parents did not want me to have those powers, but they had to follow their own rules. They gave in."

"Why didn't they want to give you the powers?" Harry asked.

"They doubted my mother. They thought she was seeing someone else. They thought she was betraying my father. Of course, I never knew if it was true. Not even Severus would tell me – "

"Severus? Snape?"

"Er, yeah…"

"Why – What does he have to do with – " Harry started, then he remembered Rose turning to Snape for comfort during their, Harry's and Rose's first official encounter, the day when Eugene and McGonagall told them about the theory on how to defeat Voldemort.

"Severus is my godfather, Harry," said Rose.

"God – father?" Harry said, horrified. Who would want Snape as their godfather?

"I've heard that you weren't exactly on the best of terms with Severus, but really, he's a nice person – "

"I don't know much of nice, to be honest," said Harry. He realized a second later, terrified, that this might offend Rose, but he was even more surprised to see Rose smiling, as though close to laughter.

"Well, he's not exactly the person who'd give you chocolates and mints on Valentine's Day," Rose said, laughing. "But if you get on the right side of things, he's okay."

"I don't think getting on the right side of things will ever work for me,"

"Well, if he doesn't like you, and you don't like him, that will absolutely get you nowhere," said Rose. "But I'm not trying to say that you should try and please him at all times, especially when you really don't want to – " she added quickly, seeing a scowl on Harry's face. " – and not exactly when the person does not want to be pleased. But you should try and work things out. I mean, you're both on the good side."

"Snape hates my dad, and he hates me too," Harry said dismissively.

"Why does he hate your dad?"

"They hated each other ever since school."

"Hang on… Of course! Your father! James Potter? Lily Evans' husband?" Rose said, her face lighting up.

"Er, yeah… Why?"

"Have you ever heard of Regina Wendlin?" asked Rose.

"No."

"No, I suppose not… Well…"

"Why?"

"Well, Lily Evans was my mother's best friend… Regina Wendlin."

"Are you sure?" Harry said, politely surprised.

"That's what the servants told me, and when I asked Severus about it, he told me the same story," Rose replied.

That night, Harry could barely sleep. His mind was now full with answers, he thought. He realized that, Rose saying that it contained protection, the reason why Rose survived Voldemort could be because of the ancient Ashworth powers that were passed on to her. He also felt happy to learn about her mother's best friend this time, Regina Wendlin. And the best part, he thought to himself, was that he had met his mother's best friend's daughter, Rose. He could ask her anytime how her mother was like, and since they were best friends, maybe her mother was a lot like his. But then, Harry realized, Rose had never known what her mother was like as well. Another surge of hatred at Voldemort coursed through Harry. It was his fault many families were destroyed, and now many are still suffering. Hating Voldemort, Harry fell asleep.

He was leaning against a stretch of wall beside many windows. He was looking all around the room. He was again in Sirius' house. He was seeing this dream again, the one he'd been seeing in Privet Drive. Then, he saw her again; Claire. He had to ask her name again. Just to be sure.

"Harry," Sirius suddenly said. He had just opened his mouth to ask Claire when Sirius reached Harry, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Is that really you?" Harry asked, staring into Sirius' face. Sirius nodded with a smile.

"Claire!" cried the woman Sirius was holding a moment earlier. She bent down and hugged Claire. Claire did not answer. It appeared to Harry as though she did not know the woman, nor did she care.

"Wh – where are we?" Harry asked, turning to Sirius.

"We're in my house," Sirius answered.

"I know this is your house. I mean, I'm dreaming, right? Why am I dreaming of this? What's happening?" Harry said.

"I thought you'd be able to know that by now," Sirius said.

"What?"

"Why are you here?" Harry heard Claire's voice.

He turned and saw that the woman had let go of Claire and was now standing straight. Harry saw her face. She looked British. She had fair skin, light brown eyes, and a nose dead center. If dressed properly, Harry thought she'd have fitted for a Muggle fashion model. She looked vain.

"Why are you here in my dream?" said Claire. Tears were silently streaming down her cheeks.

"Claire?" Harry said uncertainly. Claire looked at him.

"You know her?" Sirius said.

"Well, yeah… I met her here, right?" Harry replied. "Claire…" Harry said, moving toward Claire and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Claire, what's the problem?" Claire faced him and cried into his shoulder. Harry patted her back consolingly.

Everything was fading into darkness, even Harry's own body. He stared around, but everything was growing steadily darker.

"Harry, are you all right?" said a voice. Harry opened his eyes and saw Ron staring down at him.

"Wh – Ron?"

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah… Why?"

"Were you dreaming of something?" Ron said slowly. "I was already in bed when I heard you… kind of… sniffing…"

"Sniffing?" Harry asked. He wasn't a dog in his dream?

"Sniffing… like – crying… Anyways, it grew louder, and louder, like you were crying really hard… gasping… And when I got out of bed to check on you, you were crying. Tears were running down from your eyes, you were sniffing and gasping and everything, but your eyes were closed…" Ron finished quietly. "Are you all right? Were you dreaming?"

"I'm okay…"

"What were you dreaming about?"

"You remember the one I told you I've been seeing all summer in my dreams?"

"The one with Sirius, and the girl, Claire? And the other woman?"

"Yeah – "

"You dreamt about it again?"

"Yes, but it was different. Sirius came to me, and the woman approached Claire."

"Why'd you cry?"

"I wasn't crying!" Harry hissed. "Claire was crying!"