CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
One would have thought that the seventh year Defence Against the Dark Arts students were marching towards the Wizengamot court room for sentencing rather than towards their Defence lesson, the way that a cold silence hang above their heads and that the nervous tension was palpable amongst everyone from every House. After all, the Boggart was no joke. They were more looking forward to their lessons on Manticores, Chameleon Ghouls and Inferi than they were to the prospect of having to face the creature who would publicly reveal their living nightmares. The only one amongst them who was only slightly relaxed was Harry, since her Boggart was known to everyone. So instead of having to worry about her own Boggart, Harry was now in the unenviable position of worrying about what her friends would be facing in the class today.
As the class took their seats on the benches around the room, most of the students looked like they were silently praying to whatever deity would listen for some kind of mercy or miracle. No one dared to look at the front of the class, where there was a cupboard shaking quite madly, no doubt with a very eager Boggart inside. However, there did not appear to be a force on Earth, in the Heavens, or in the Underworld that could dissuade Galatea Merrythought from her lesson plan, for the formidable Irish witch came marching in, robes billowing behind her, with gusto and a stern, determined look on her face. The moment she got to the front of her class, Professor Merrythought turned her eagle eyes onto her hapless students.
"You all know what we will be covering in class today," she stated crisply. "Our topic of discussion will be Boggarts, something we got an impromptu demonstration of, courtesy of Miss Evans. The Boggart in the closet is not one of the Boggarts she made you face, however. This one recently took up residence in Professor Vesper's closet and well, we have been kindly asked to get rid of it. Miss Evans' Boggarts are still refusing to leave their boxes."
There was a slight chuckle running around the class at hearing that; Harry flushed bright red with embarrassment.
Professor Merrythought cleared her throat, also trying to cough away her own amusement. "As you all know, I normally would not dedicate an entire lesson to one particular creature as I wish to have covered all the Dark Creatures before your mocks but the Boggart is in a league of its own. It needs its own lesson dedicated to it, especially since all of you will face it." She began pacing. "Now, who can tell me the spell that can repel a Boggart?"
Harry's hand was in the air, along with Riddle's, Minerva's and, to most people's surprise, Loreley's.
Professor Merrythought lit up when she saw one of her more silent students willing to answer a question. "Yes, Miss Malfoy?"
"Riddikulus," Loreley responded serenely. "It turns the Boggart into the thing the wizard finds most amusing."
"Correct. Five points to Ravenclaw," Professor Merrythought smiled ever so slightly. The Defence teacher went to her gramophone that she had in one corner of the classroom and prepared to play some music. "I want you all to forget about your youthful pride and your privacy," she continued. "If you are unable to face your greatest fears in the presence of your peers, you will not fare in the real world. The real world does not care about your discomfort or shame. And if anyone has the temerity to laugh at the fears of their peers, no matter how childish or ridiculous they may seem, they will serve detention with me from now until Yule! Now, form a line."
Harry watched as her friends and peers reluctantly but obediently got up from their seats and formed a rather messy line, with Abraxas Malfoy – to his horror – being right at the front. Just as Remus Lupin had done in Harry's own time, Professor Merrythought had put on some music: Prokofiev's 'Dance of the Knights'. Harry winced; although it was epic, it did not help ease the nerves of those about to face their worst fears.
"Ready, Mr. Malfoy?" the Defence teacher inquired crisply.
"Would it matter if I said no, professor?" Malfoy replied tentatively.
Professor Merrythought raised an eyebrow. "Not really."
With a flick of her wand, Professor Merrythought unlocked the closet and the wooden door creaked open ominously. Harry and the class watched as from the depths of the closet came drifting a gaseous mass of grey smoke that very quickly started playing various different scenes and images, causing Abraxas to turn whiter than his own hair as he, hand quivering uncontrollably, raised his wand at the odd form of the Boggart. "Riddikulus!" he incanted as clearly and steadily as he could.
The Boggart promptly turned into an albino peacock wearing a really unseemly 18th century hat on its head, causing many of the class to start laughing. Abraxas looked quite pleased with himself.
"Very good, Mr. Malfoy," Merrythought praised as the peacock began squawking indignantly. "May I ask what form it had taken? It wasn't entirely clear."
Abraxas gulped. "Professor … I … it was the gift I was born with."
"You fear a power you have," the professor repeated.
"Yes, ma'am."
"And the peacock?" she asked curiously.
"I once dressed my father's albino peacocks up in my grandmother's hats because I wanted revenge. He had refused to allow me to accompany him to a meeting when I was ten. Loreley helped me do it," Abraxas replied with a small nostalgic grin. "He was furious of course."
"Five points to Slytherin for going first, Mr. Malfoy. This is not easy feat to do. Next!"
Heron Lestrange stepped forth, keeping his gaze firmly on the peacock in front of him. As soon as it saw him, the peacock's eyes seemed to glow for a moment before it started changing its shape to show a young girl in a bed, clearly dying. Harry noted in horror that the girl could be no older than eleven. Heron too paled to an almost unhealthy extent as he raised his wand at the Boggart. "R-Riddikulus!"
The dying girl was replaced quickly by a group of very brightly coloured frogs jumping up and down and singing one of the most Merlin-awful tunes Harry had ever had the misfortune to hear in her life, but at least it was amusing.
"Well done, Mr. Lestrange," Merrythought congratulated gently. "Who is the girl?"
"My sister Nymera," Heron replied, sounding almost detached.
The Defence teacher nodded sympathetically. "You may also return to your seat. Next!"
It was Riddle's turn next, and Harry leant forwards in her seat, interested to see if her hunch about his Boggart was correct. Sure enough, as Harry had predicted to herself, the frogs began to coagulate together, morphing into dirt on the floor. Rising from the dirt like the eerie hand of a zombie, was a rather mundane-looking grey slab made of cheap looking granite. There were a few daisies at the foot of the gravestone but nothing much else. Harry narrowed her eyes to see that there was an inscription on the grave:
Tom Marvolo Riddle
December 31 1926-?
Unremarkable, unloved, entirely forgotten
While the class was dumfounded at seeing that the King of Slytherin's worst fear was his own untimely demise with no notoriety, Harry looked utterly saddened and resigned. This was why Riddle had created the Horcruxes in the first place; to try and escape the thing he feared the most.
Riddle, a steely glint in his eyes, raised his wand at the grave, not daring to blink for a moment. "Riddikulus!"
The grave was soon replaced by several snakes dancing like Egyptians, which made Harry snort quite loudly at how cute as well as funny they looked, especially the ones with the Pharaoh crowns on their heads.
Avery was up next; his greatest fear was not living up to his parents' expectations. Mulciber was afraid of his father, but for an entirely different reason. When the Boggart had turned into Mulciber Senior, the Boggart had spewed out more verbal abuse than Uncle Vernon had in one day! Harry had been taken aback by just how vitriolic Mulciber's father was; some of the words the Boggart flung out had left her reeling.
Septimus Weasley was deadly afraid of snakes, a king cobra specifically, Octavius Weasley was afraid of this spooky giant black dog with glowing yellow eyes that Harry knew had a story behind it and Ignatius Prewett was afraid of spiders. Much like Ron had been, Ignatius had a look of stricken terror as he raised his wand at the giant arachnid and cast the spell on the Boggart to put it in a rather ugly pink dress and flower crown. Then it was the turn of Dolohov.
To everyone's surprise, the Boggart promptly turned into Dolohov's friend group, the Knights and Riddle. As with Mulciber, the Boggart began speaking, tearing and cutting into Dolohov verbally. Dolohov covered his ears, closing his eyes – he didn't have the strength to regain his composure and raise his wand at the Boggart. It was so bad that Merrythought ordered Lestrange to take Dolohov back to his seat without having turned the Boggart into anything truly ridiculous.
Then, it was the turn of Loreley. The Boggart Knights and the baby Dark Lord sneered at her before beginning to shapeshift again. In an instant there were three hooded figures sitting on a chair, one spinning a wheel, one measuring the amount of wool being used and the third snipping the end of the wool after it had finished weaving. No one could see their faces but Harry knew almost immediately who these three were. Loreley feared the Fates themselves.
Loreley raised her wand with determination. "Riddikulus!"
The three Moirai suddenly were clothed as though they had stepped straight out of Alice in Wonderland complete with hats that the Mad Hatter could have worn or made. Harry laughed at their mismatched clothes, clapping a little. Loreley resumed her seat next to Harry before Merrythought could question her. Harry could hear Loreley's breath trembling, and Harry gave her a reassuring squeeze on her arm. Abraxas stared at his sister with undisguised concern.
Orion stepped forth. The three Fates looked directly at him and instantaneously shifted once more and no one could have predicted what it was. There were four coffins standing in the classroom, all of them open. One of them had Harry's body in it. Harry gaped at the image of herself, dressed in this almost virginal white gown and lying there as though she were asleep but completely unmoving. Her hand subconsciously went to her mouth and Loreley gripped her as though making sure Harry was still alive. Another coffin had Walburga's body in it, the third was occupied by a girl slightly older than they were with the same hair colour and curl shape as Orion. His sister Lucretia, Harry guessed. The last held the body of his mother, the Lady Melania Black.
Orion, with tears in his eyes as he looked at each body, raised his wand at the Boggart. "No, no, no … NO! Riddikulus!"
The coffins and their bodies were soon replaced by a version of Nessie singing operetta but the Boggart had done its damage to Orion. The young Heir had stumbled back in shock and would have collapsed onto the floor had Altair and Artemis not been there to catch him, both as pale as snow. Walburga herself hadn't tried to stop the tears streaming down her face.
Orion was a mess when he got back to his seat. Harry had taken him in a reassuring embrace and simply let the Heir to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black weep uncontrollably against her shoulder. Harry also watched Artemis step forth unwillingly and watched as the singing Nessie turned into a blonde woman in a wedding dress with elongated fangs. Harry's eyes bugged out considerably; what in the name of Morgana's Sight was the story behind that?!
Artemis dealt with the Boggart soon enough, turning the vampire woman into a pink bunny that left rainbows everywhere it hopped before joining Harry, Loreley and the still distraught Orion. "I suddenly feel like defenestrating Professor Merrythought," she growled lowly.
Orion sniffled as he sat up again, taking his handkerchief out of his blazer pocket, blowing his nose quite loudly. "I'm sorry," he managed to say eventually.
"You have nothing to apologise for," Harry stated firmly.
Then it was Altair's turn. His Boggart, as it turns out, was his fear of abandonment. Abandoned by his father entirely; abandoned by Rosier entirely in favour of Riddle and the others; and abandoned by Harry herself, who saw her own image once more disappear in a puff of smoke. Altair raised his wand almost defiantly. "Riddikulus!"
Harry laughed heartily at the three dancing pigs the Boggart had become but had quickly looked at Altair with no uncertain degree of concern as he came to sit with her, Orion, Artemis and Loreley again. He barely could look them in the eye due to the shame he clearly felt. Harry couldn't bear to see him like that and, not caring who saw, slipped her left hand into his right, despite the pain that shot through her arm at the sudden movement, and gave his right hand a reassuring squeeze. Altair immediately returned the favour and smiled gratefully, looking up to watch Rosier stand before the Boggart.
The Boggart took the form of Altair in mortal danger – specifically, being attacked by Dementors. Harry blanched at this; Merlin, Morgana and all the fairies of Avalon, what had she done to Arcturus Rosier?! Had her revenge scared him that badly? Next to her, Altair too turned even whiter than he already was. Rosier got rid of the Boggart promptly, leaving a flower bed of dancing and singing flowers behind. Rosier shot Altair and Harry a saddened look before joining Riddle and his Knights, none of whom knew what to do with themselves.
Minerva was up next. Her worst fear was her parents divorcing over the magic that she and her brothers were born with. Druella's worst fear was a red-headed Dullahan. "Bad childhood experience," Orion whispered to Harry when he saw her frown. "The Dullahan meant no harm, but she left a lasting impression on Dru."
Walburga's worst fear broke both Harry and Orion: not living up to the ideals of a pureblood wife and what it meant to be Lady Black. Harry thought the daughters Walburga imagined looked beautiful and true credits to their House, and frowned deeply at the Boggart as it started saying, "a true Lady would produce a son for her House!" Harry looked ready to get up and punch the creature in the face. Walburga used her Riddikulus to make it begin Irish dancing, much to Merrythought's own amusement.
Ophelia was scared of a werewolf, but soon had him dancing in a top hat and cane. Ygraine feared her own grandmother on her mother's side, who had more Veela in her than human. Christina Bletchley feared a fail in Potions. Caroline Harrow was afraid of dogs. Eventually Harry's head started spinning at the amount of different fears of varying severities. She couldn't even concentrate properly on Lament's fear, which was his mother and her violent temper.
By the time the bell rang to signify the periods before dinner and the Boggart had fled after being turned into a singing turnip by the final student, there were around twenty out of thirty traumatised students with what they had to be confronted with. Professor Merrythought, putting her gramophone off, looked annoyed and regretful. "I am sorry," she stated curtly. "I should have known that considering the climate we live in right now, there would have been some fears that have originated from it. This was a necessary evil I am afraid. That being said, all of you faced these fears in front of others. You should be proud of that."
There were a few mutters of assent, but none sounded very convinced.
"If any of you wish to talk to me about those fears – or anything else – my office is open until five-thirty today." Merrythought then snapped when she saw the incredulous and surprised faces, "I am a teacher, not a Mind healer."
"A good thing too," Altair muttered as everyone gathered their bags and filed towards the door. "She might make matters worse."
His friends chuckled lightly.
The girls first went to change Harry's bandages before joining the boys at the library where the mood was incredibly dower and way too quiet even for library standards. All the younger years from every House were trying to suss out what could be wrong with the seventh years but when the Weasley twins only said, "Boggarts," there were many who dropped the subject in an instant. Orion and Heron distracted themselves with Ancient Runes, Loreley worked on her essays and the pureblood heiresses were distracting each other with planning their up and coming shopping trip. Artemis and Minerva too were trying to distract themselves by already trying to read ahead for some of their least favourite subjects.
Harry and Altair distracted themselves by asking permission from Slughorn to practise potion brewing while seeing if they could play Ingredient Ping Pong without the use of flashcards that time. The Head of Slytherin had been ecstatic to know that two of his Slytherins were using their free time so well and happily gave them permission to use the potions lab but only brew some of the more tamer potions on their curriculum.
Thus, the pair had decided to practise the apt Wound-Cleaning Potion. Altair prepared the cauldron while Harry gathered the ginger root, mallow, sage, snake fangs, red pepper, hyssop, Shrivelfigs and stinging nettle.
"Right. Boil crystal clear water for two minutes," Altair began, lighting the burner under the cauldron.
"Then sprinkle ground up ginger root into the water stirring clockwise for thirty seconds," Harry answered as she got to work. She winced once or twice in pain from her wound but it wasn't too unbearable so refused to allow Altair to take over the grounding job when he asked if he should. "It's fine," Harry had answered dismissively.
"But you are in pain," Altair pointed out, frowning. "Please let me take over."
Harry regarded him for a moment and that was when her Slytherin side took over. "OK, you want to take over? Then you have to answer a question I have."
Altair seemed to know exactly what about and nodded his head in resignation as he took over the ground of the root. "My Boggart."
Harry nodded as she started already preparing the powdered snake fangs and the Shrivelfig juice as Altair dealt with the ginger root. "Yes. I can guess why you feel that way about your father, but how long have you been feeling like that about Rosier? About … me?"
Altair had opened his mouth as he sprinkled the ginger root into their potion, about to answer, when they heard a knock on the door of the Potions lab. "Hello, may I come in?"
It was Rosier. In an instant, Harry and Altair's stances stiffened and they both exchanged a look as the door was pushed open and Rosier edged his way into the lab as though he were trying not scare of two deer. Harry started sprinkling into the potion the powdered snake fangs as Rosier closed the door behind him. The click of the door resonated around the room like the sound of a struck match.
Arcturus Rosier cleared his throat nervously as he walked into the lab, clearly getting ready to do a whole lot of talking.
"What are you doing here, Arc?" Altair asked coolly. Rosier regarded his childhood friend with a deep sadness.
"Well, I … I gave what you said to me not too long ago some thought," Rosier began nervously, "and I guess I am here to apologise. To Harry, and to you."
"You guess?" Harry repeated as she began pouring in the Shrivelfig juice carefully and stirring the potion. "You are not sure?"
Rosier looked flustered. "No, no, that came out wrong! I am definitely here to apologise." Rosier solidified his stance more as well as his gaze. "I wish to apologise to the both of you, regarding how I have been acting lately."
"OK, fine," Altair put the fire under the cauldron down a little to make sure the potion did not overheat and gestured for him to continue. "Apologise."
Rosier frowned in genuine confusion. "I thought I just did."
Altair scoffed. "No, you have not! You cannot simply say 'I apologise' and then to expect that to be the end of it. We have to know that you know exactly what it is you are apologising for, so we can decide if we want to forgive you or not. Right, Harry?"
Harry grinned at this as she continued stirring the solution in the cauldron. "I could not have said it better myself, Altair."
Rosier stood gorgonised for a moment. "I … I-"
"It would appear that you do not know, so apology not accepted," Altair went back to preparing to add the stinging nettles to the potion.
Rosier sighed in frustration, running his hands through his hair. "Wait, Altair, just-" He looked to Harry, who was still stirring the potion, and keeping an eye on its colour. "Harry. Will you please hear me out?"
The Lady Regnant of House Peverell slowed her stirring and raised her green eyes to meet his. Rosier took that as an invitation to begin talking again. "I owe you my sincerest apologies for how I have acted towards you and treated you lately. It was utterly inexcusable."
"And how, pray, have you been acting?" Harry questioned snarkily.
"Like a braggard," Rosier responded candidly. "I put an Ill Health Curse on a Lady Regnant-"
"Ah yes, the petty little curse that helped to exacerbate my Fainting Sickness, which caused me more than a great deal of discomfort, and to miss lessons and help to put Altair in Professor Griffith's detention because of his gallantry," Harry sneered. "You mean that one?"
"Yes, that one," Rosier winced.
"You are lucky I actually like plants or I would have put a Mandrake next to your bed," Harry told him darkly as she began to add the sage to the potion as Altair continued to stir. "What else do you need to apologise for, do you think?"
Rosier shuffled nervously on his feet, especially since he saw the tell-tale danger of silver flashing in her eyes. "My hostility towards you."
"Well that is putting it mildly, don't you think?" Harry scoffed. Rosier gulped, hearing the dangerous undertone to her voice. "You, together with your little friends, actively tried to make my life a living hell. One minute you're polite and then the next, you treat me like dirt on your boots. As far as I remember, I was civil and amicable to you and then you help in my public humiliation, which I apparently deserve because I exist!" Rosier flinched at this. "So this is what I get for what I had to endure, a half-hearted apology with no explanation or excuse or even a shred of understanding? Sorry, but it isn't good enough. I will not accept it; no idea what Altair thinks but there it is."
"I fully support your decision," Altair stated as he added the nettles and mallow to the potion.
"So it is true," Rosier breathed. "You two are calling each other by your first names."
"You thought I lied?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No, no! It's just – Altair only ever allowed me, and Druella, to call him by his first name," Rosier explained sheepishly.
"Not anymore, Rosier," Altair responded coldly.
Even Harry flinched at this. She could hardly believe that Altair had just called his brother-in-all-but-name by his last name! This was not good at all. Rosier too could not believe his ears. "W-what?"
Altair ignored him, concentrating on the potion again. Harry reluctantly starting preparing the hyssop and the red pepper. Rosier stepped towards Altair. "Please, Altair! You – please don't push me away…"
"Why?" Altair sneered. "Because my Boggart shows I fear losing you? I don't know why it did. In a way it already happened, long ago now."
"That's not true! You are the brother I never had; you will never lose me," Rosier insisted, desperation laced in his voice.
Altair scoffed. "Yes, well, I have a brother, and a sister, already."
The moment Altair said that, Rosier looked to Harry who barely reacted to this news and simply continued measuring the red pepper into a tea spoon. It was this lack of reaction from Harry that it dawned on Rosier why she didn't. "Harry knows."
"Of course. Harry knows everything about my illegitimate siblings," Altair confirmed. Rosier stared at him, and then Harry, in utter disbelief.
"Why would you tell her about that?" Rosier asked, shaking his head subconsciously and his eyes widened with undisguised surprise.
"Because I wanted to," Altair answered simply. "She deserved an explanation as to why I was angry with her and, frankly, she has been closest to what a best friend should be than you have been in a long while."
Rosier's eyes widened with sadness, gaping slightly. "How can you say that?! We have been-"
That had been the last straw for Altair, whose normally jovial eyes had taken on a very dangerous glint that could rival Harry's or even Riddle's. "I CAN SAY THAT VERY EASILY BECAUSE IT IS THE BLOODY TRUTH, ARCTURUS!"
Potion and ingredient bottles started trembling on their shelves, Altair's magic threatening to burst out in righteous fury. Harry would have been terrified if she had not been so happy to see Altair finally stand up to his oldest friend about his unreasonable behaviour. As Harry continued with their potion, Altair had invaded Rosier's personal space. "Don't you dare treat me like a fool any longer! Ever since the end of fifth year and the whole of sixth year you have changed and your priorities shifted for all to see. For around two years now I have been battling between deciding whether I am sane or insane for noticing what I have. Orion Black and your own sister in their own ways tried to tell me I was sane for Merlin's sake and in hindsight I should have listened! Well, I am awake now and I refuse to play a game that I know I will always be the one who ends up being the loser."
Rosier stepped back slightly, his eyes almost bugging out of his sockets. "What game?! What – I don't understand-"
"You, Riddle and his little Knights," Altair clarified through gritted teeth. Harry was glad that the Wound-Cleaning Potion was almost ready to be bottled because she was staring unabashedly at them and would likely have ruined the potion because of a lack of concentration on it.
Rosier's head started shaking. "I have no idea-"
"Oh don't even try to deny it! It started even before we had arrived at Hogwarts during our first year," Altair cut across icily. "Do you remember how it was? It used to be you, me, Druella, Orion Black and Artemis Potter in the compartment. Then Dolohov, Malfoy, Avery, Mulciber and Lestrange found us and decided to introduce Tom to us and sat in that damn compartment opposite us. They periodically came in to ask you stuff and sneer at the rest of us, especially Potter. When she was Sorted into Gryffindor, it only got worse to the point Potter decided to travel with the Gryffindors in the train. Dolohov, for what reason I don't know, was all over you from the moment our parents introduced us just before first year, trying to get rid of me and become your best friend instead. It made me anxious – how could it not? You two are actually alike when it comes to hobbies and interests. You kept reassuring me that no one could replace me, but Dolohov was bloody relentless!"
Altair's hands curled into fists. "Dolohov was always there like a bad smell, picking at my shortcomings and trying to push as many of my buttons as he could, always praising you but slinging mud at me. It was pure torture to endure every single day, and yet I didn't have the bloody guts to tell you. I tried to put up with it, and the other boys, because I thought I was being ridiculous. I saw them do things I should have stopped, but didn't for your sake. Eventually, you distanced yourself slightly from Dolohov and the others to try and placate me, despite the fact you wanted to make more friends at Hogwarts. I admit that I found second and third year more bearable because of it, but then we started sitting near Riddle and his friends at dinner during fourth year because Mulciber asked us to." Altair snorted. "Once again I should have listened to Orion and Druella when they said it wasn't a good idea because Dolohov started up again."
Harry could hardly believe what she was hearing. Had this been going on for six years?! Had Riddle been behind Dolohov's behaviour or not, because it suddenly didn't seem like this was the case. It was apparently a case of Dolohov being a total cretinous butthole.
Altair continued, since he was on a roll now anyway. "Then fifth year – next to that nasty business with the death of Myrtle Warren and the possible closure of Hogwarts – during the Yule Ball, which teachers thought would distract us from a murder, you just vanished. I tried to find you, and walked and talked a bit with Druella, both Blacks and Julius Rookwood while trying to track you down. When I did find you, you weren't alone. You were with Riddle, Dolohov and the others, laughing with not a care in the world." Altair had to compose himself for a moment. "I suppose it was stupid, but I felt utterly forgotten and abandoned in that moment. Of course, I convinced myself I was being paranoid, despite Druella continuing to insist I wasn't. Ever since then, you'd stop to talk to them, and even took them up on offers of studying together. Not once did they look at me. They ignored my existence, do you know what that feels like?"
Neither Harry nor Rosier dared to move or breathe, let alone answer.
"I actually convinced myself I was the one in the wrong!" Altair laughed coldly. "That I was not making an effort in getting to know any of them. That I still had old misconceptions about them so I tried to give them a chance. But they never once acknowledged me, and when they did it was only ever to belittle me. At the end of fifth year and beginning of sixth year, you were invited to sit with them in their compartment. And I saw how much you wanted to accept but you had once again turned them down, all to spare my blushes! I told you to say yes, because I actually thought I was holding you back. I was dragged into their friendship group and started to see myself as a member of it, despite never asking to be or considering if I even wanted to be."
Altair chuckled lowly. "For a while it was fine, but then Dolohov started again. There were comments and jokes that I could not call him out on without looking like I had completely lost my mind. I was utterly defenceless! What made the situation worse, was that you started looking at me differently, and at them too. You started taking their side more and allowed Dolohov to get away with what he was saying to me."
For the first time since he exploded, Altair looked at Harry. "Then in our last year, lo and behold, a strange, home-schooled orphan is enrolled at Hogwarts who, despite all my faults and indiscreet comments, took my side, saw me for who I am and called your behaviour out without sugar coating it, like Black and Druella had tried to do. And you know what, she's right. Unlike Black and Druella, she put up with me, for some reason, despite everything." Altair looked at Rosier. "If you want to remain friends with Riddle and his Knights, go ahead. But I don't want to associate with them. It is your decision and I respect it; I have my own friends now too after all, though I will be making it up to them for a while to come for how I have acted."
Harry grinned and Rosier gaped, shellshocked by the bombshell that was Altair's confession. Altair turned back to the potion and helped Harry with bottling the potion and putting the ingredients back on the correct shelves. The both of them worked in stunned silence for what felt like an eternity.
Eventually, Rosier found his voice again.
"You're right," Harry and Altair looked sharply at Rosier, who was staring at his polished shoes. "I have been unimaginably cruel to the both of you." Rosier sighed and took a seat on a stool behind a nearby desk. "Altair … you weren't insane when you thought I was distancing myself from you. I was." Rosier combed his fingers through his hair. "I don't attempt to deny anything you said but I can explain my behaviour from fifth year onwards." Rosier closed his eyes, gathering his courage. "The night of the Yule Ball, I needed to make an escape from my date and just needed some fresh air. That was when I bumped into Riddle and the others doing the same. They were discussing the wars in the Europe, and I found myself enjoying in the debate. I admit that I did not think about coming to find you, and I apologise for that." Rosier swallowed, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "Following that night, I continued talking to them because I found them, and still do, easy to talk to. Their topics were always very interesting and they knew about various different branches of magic."
Rosier took another fortifying breath, refusing to look at up Harry or Altair in case he saw a look of judgement in their eyes. "As for sixth year, I will not deny I started feeling … resentment of our friendship. I felt like you were holding me back while I felt … free with Riddle and the others. I could talk about Dark magic and other more … sensitive topics without fearing of causing too much offence. It sounds awful, I know. I can barely forgive myself for feeling like that, but it's true." Rosier brushed some tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes. "I realise that I blinded myself to how I was treating you because I forgot how to appreciate our friendship. It wasn't until the beginning of seventh year that I was forced to …"
Rosier looked up for the first time, looking guiltily at Harry. "Harry entered the picture like a breath of fresh air and raging thunderstorm at the same time and she just won most people over without trying, including you, Altair. Her easiness with you … made me uneasy at first. But when I saw you two play and joke after returning from Herbology with Lestrange, I saw just how well you got on. You two clicked so fast – I grew jealous."
Altair and Harry scoffed in perfect unison. Rosier laughed shortly. "You see?! You are on such a perfect wave length. And I am aware of how much of a disgusting hypocrite I am, to make you feel like you're alone, almost deliberately, and then having the nerve to get jealous when I see you making a new friend in the stranger from Europe. I started acting out, feeling like I was the wrong being wronged. It wasn't until Harry saved the school from Dementors and she taught us the Patronus Charm did I begin to consider that I was actually the problem."
"You mean when I made you protect Altair from my Boggart?" Harry clarified, speaking up for the first time in a long while.
"Yes," Rosier swallowed. "I thought of finding a good time and the words to say to apologise to you but both never seemed to come. Then when Lament, Dolohov and Mulciber attacked Black, I tried to keep Altair from also becoming a target because I suspected that Altair could easily become one, given Dolohov's history. Seeing how angry you were … I knew they were going too far but I genuinely had no idea what to do about it. I knew I had to talk to you – both of you – when you disappeared, Harry. I had never seen Altair, Riddle, Orion or any of the others look as frantic as they did then. I have no idea what has happened to your arm but I know it is bad enough that you won't let a teacher see it so I thought … well, I promised to apologise to Altair and to you so might as well make it sooner rather than later."
Harry regarded Rosier for a moment. "Who told you about my heritage? Riddle or Avery?"
Rosier looked guilty once more. "Riddle did, after Avery told him."
"As I thought," Harry was happy to have at least that further confirmed, for her own sanity.
"You knew?!" Rosier nearly fell off the stool in shock. "How?"
"It wasn't difficult: the girls discussed my letters in our dormitories. Only girls are allowed in there, so it stands to reason whoever eavesdropped was female and knows Avery. And Avery happens to have a little sister with the habit of spying on people," Harry responded candidly.
Both Altair and Rosier paled. "Almost a Ravenclaw," Rosier commented with a small smile, "forgot about that for a moment."
Harry smiled brightly at him for the first time in a long while. "Plus Artemis told me about Avery's little network."
"Of course she did. Potter girls stick together," Rosier commented but quickly clamped his hand over his mouth when he realised what had just come spewing out of his mouth.
Harry smiled reassuring at him. "It's fine. But if you insist on calling me by my surname, use Evans. I am not a Potter. Fleamont is not, and never will be, my father."
Rosier nodded and smiled gratefully. He seemed to consider something before he stepped towards her, bowed to her in the customary manner for an Heir of a House when introduced to a Lady Regnant, and then held out his hand. "Call me Arcturus, or Arc, my Lady," he answered with a grin.
Harry took his hand with a bright grin, dipping her head in acknowledgement to him. "Arcturus it is."
Arcturus took his hand back and looked at the now bottled potions. "Are you guys done with your revision?"
"Nope! Ingredients next so back to the common room we go!" Harry stated happily, clapping her hands together as she and Altair gathered their things. "We have a bunch to get through. Do you want to join in, Ros … Arcturus?"
Arcturus' face brightened further. "I'd love to."
Harry, Altair and Arcturus made the relatively short journey back to the Slytherin common room, joined by Athenaïs, Sigyn, Seraphina, Frey – to their surprise – and a kneazle belonging to one of the first years, all of whom had been out hunting. While the other familiars went back to their dorms, Athenaïs joined her witch, her friend and the slightly ruder boy in their game of Ingredient Ping Pong at one of the round tables in the corner of the common room, despite the temptation for Harry to sit at the fireplace.
They were joined about ten minutes later by Orion, Druella, Walburga, Ophelia and Ygraine, who had initially regarded Arcturus rather coldly until Harry reassured them that Arcturus had apologised for his behaviour – profusely – and was on his best behaviour.
"It is about time you got your head out of your behind, brother," Druella had sneered as they took their seats around the table. "We will see how long it lasts."
"I am not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, sis," Arcturus had answered. "I know I am on thin ice. You do not need to remind me."
The girls had harrumphed but had opened their books and magazines, going back to their reading. Orion and Athenaïs joined in the revision games for a bit; Harry's familiar, however, went at some point up amongst the statues around the Slytherin common room again, clearly waiting for something.
Not too long after, Riddle, Avery and Lestrange made a beeline for their dorms, not aware that the group was sitting in the common room but Dolohov, Mulciber, Malfoy and Lament, who had joined them for some reason, did. They looked straight at Arcturus, ignoring everyone else around him.
"Rosier, you coming?" Dolohov asked rather amicably for his taste.
"No thank you, Dolohov," Arcturus answered as he winced when Harry showed him the correct answer for the properties of Asphodel. "I will see you later."
Dolohov and Mulciber could not believe their ears, Malfoy looked resigned and Lament glowered at Altair and Harry, making silent accusations. It was at that point the Gargouille sprung from her spot.
"KYYYUOOO!"
Malfoy was the only one of their group who did not jump five feet into the air and scream like a girl; in fact, a rare smile of amusement spread onto the Malfoy heir's face as Athenaïs pranced around happily, pleased she managed to scare her favourite targets again. Harry and her friends laughed heartily at the young dragon's antics. Dolohov, Mulciber and Lament's lips curled into an ugly sneer but none of them could do anything, considering the withering, warning looks they were receiving from the Lady Peverell and her friends. Malfoy dragged his friends away before they could say or do anything stupidly suicidal and not too long after did Harry and her friends dump their bags in their dorms before heading to dinner. Athenaïs went to take a nap.
Druella, Walburga, Ophelia and Ygraine went to the Slytherin table for dinner to join some of their other friends. Arcturus had tried to head for the Slytherin table too but Harry had caught his arm before he could. "You don't want to join us for dinner?" she asked civilly.
Arcturus had blinked a couple of times before grinning and nodding enthusiastically. Much to the Rosier heir's surprise, the Gryffindors had become so accustomed to Snakes in their midst that they had barely raised an eyebrow at the fact Arcturus Rosier was coming to join their table. Indeed, the moment Arcturus sat down next to Minerva and Loreley, opposite Artemis, Altair and Harry, there were quick greetings from the other Gryffindors that were so flippant, it bordered on impertinence. Arcturus silently marvelled at the fact that even the Prewetts, whose status in pureblood circles were sky-rocketing due to their new alliance with the Blacks, gave him friendly smiles and a wave before returning to asking Orion Black for more stories on Lucretia and other members of his family. It was unnerving and Arcturus did not know exactly how to deal with it.
As if he could not be surprised further, when Artemis Potter, the Weasley twins and several other Gryffindors saw Heron Lestrange heading for the Slytherin table, they began calling him over.
"LESTRANGE! Come here! There is a new model broom out; we want your opinion!" Artemis yelled.
"We need some-"
"-actually intelligent-"
"-opinions!" the Weasleys added.
Heron had flushed bright red as he approached. "Apologies, I promised my friends – other friends – that I would join them for dinner tonight, but I cannot wait to discuss it at breakfast tomorrow."
"Need a break from us Lions, Lestrange?" Ignatius Prewett teased.
"No, no," Heron reassured. He looked to Harry. "Tom will be down in a minute. He's got some good news regarding your Revision Club."
Harry smiled brightly. "Brilliant! Thank you for letting me know, Heron."
The Lestrange Heir flushed redder as he bowed to her before leaving. Artemis visibly deflated when he did, which made Harry cock her head to one side curiously. Wait … no … did Artemis … Harry looked to Loreley, who was giving Harry a knowing look. She nodded quite subtly.
Harry wanted to laugh. Well, well – this was an interesting development.
The Mistress of Death was tucking into a parsnip, pear and pecan salad, for once eating her main course before her treacle tart – mainly because the Prewetts were keeping the tart dish hostage as they had learned the lesson of leaving Harry unsupervised with treacle tarts the hard way – and listening to Altair, Arcturus and Minerva discussing whether or not Merrythought had gone too far with making them face the Boggart themselves. It was during Minerva's point that Tom Riddle approached the Gryffindor table with at least three leaves of parchment in hand. Harry sat up quite quickly when the baby Dark Lord did, greeting her with a friendly smile and holding out the leaves to her.
"As promised, I did as you asked," Riddle informed dutifully. "These are the names of the people who would love to be tutored, and the subjects in which they feel they need extra help. I also have a list of some of the sixth years who also don't mind tutoring."
Harry took the list, opened and it and quickly scanned the names. No surprises War was on the list, who wanted tutoring in History of Magic. There were also other names Harry recognised: Crabbe, Goyle, Greengrass, Flint, Higgs, Bulstrode, Parkinson, Carrow, Rookwood, Yaxley. Harry nodded absentmindedly and then looked at the subjects: Transfigurations, Charms, Defence, Herbology, Potions, Muggle Studies, History of Magic – almost everyone had put that down – Astronomy, Care, Ancient Runes (three times only) and five people struggled with Arithmancy. The sixth years willing to tutor were Rhona Percy, Henry Talbot and Calliope Carrow for Herbology, Potions and Astronomy respectively.
Harry folded the list again and tucked it away in her blazer pocket, smiling at Tom Riddle. "Thank you, Riddle."
"No problem. Good luck pitching it to the Headmaster," Riddle replied as he left to have his dinner at the Slytherin table.
It was noted that Tom Riddle spent most of dinner listening quietly to Lestrange, Dolohov and Malfoy discuss new alliance news that their parents had shared with them while trying to tune out the droning about Quidditch from Avery, Lament, and Mulciber, but no one made a remark about it. Tom barely felt the need to share anything; he was still reeling from Defence and the strange conversation he had had with Loreley Malfoy of all people in the library. Well, it had not been a conversation exactly. More like a very, very odd exchange of ... Tom still didn't know what exactly.
On the matter of his Boggart, Tom knew it had been predictable and mundane in comparison to the others', especially Lestrange, who Tom didn't know even had a younger sister who was so ill. True, family affairs were a private matter, but to be able to conceal that for as long as Heron had …
Tom's fear of death was nothing in comparison.
It had been one of the reasons Tom had decided to go to the library before dinner in the first place; to clear his head and try and track down some Slytherins who were in need for tutoring. Harry's Revision Club was a golden opportunity to try and get back into her good books, especially since she herself considered him as Defence tutor. Tom was not going to let that opportunity go.
Tom began replaying the events in his head as he, almost without realising it, took a slice of treacle tart instead of his usual pudding.
-Flashback-
He had found some fifth years who had immediately agreed that the Revision Club was definitely something they'd go to, no matter if it was an inter-House affair. Once he had taken their names and subjects, Tom had gone to the Astronomy section for a book on stars as omens, when he had bumped into the last person he had expected to run into there.
Tom had rounded the corner of the Astronomy section and almost ran straight into Loreley Malfoy, who had barely blinked her silvery eyes despite the fact he had almost mowed her down. The Malfoy heiress regarded him with those unnerving eyes, the one that always had a look about them, like she could look right into the very recesses of his soul.
It was one of the reasons Tom had never liked Abraxas' sister. There was a very low likelihood of being able to hide anything from Loreley and Tom had plenty of secrets he wanted to remain hidden. Especially if he wanted to stay out of Azkaban.
"Miss. Malfoy," Tom greeted civilly. "My apologies. My head was elsewhere."
"Indeed. It usually is," Loreley Malfoy had agreed serenely, looking and sounding rather amused. "More often than normal these days, though."
Tom had no answer to that as he had stepped around her and tried to focus on finding his book. He had found it easily enough, after all he had the library catalogue memorised by now, and when he reached for the book he was searching for, Tom sensed that Loreley Malfoy had been watching him closely.
"Your fear still rules you," he heard her ethereal voice still ring out. "But that could change – if you choose a different path."
Tom had felt his heart stop for a moment and he had straightened to look at her. "Forgive me, Miss Malfoy, I do not understand. What are you suggesting?"
"You know exactly what I am suggesting," the Malfoy heiress replied candidly. "Your tapestry was in jeopardy, yet now – uncertain."
Tom felt his eyes bleed to full red but the dotty girl in front of him didn't so much as flinch. "Uncertain?" he repeated in a dangerously quiet tone. "You are making very little sense-"
"The young deer came to a castle to redeem her greatest enemy, yet she weeps for their damaged soul," Loreley Malfoy sang whimsically. "She wishes to alleviate the pain but that is ultimately for you to decide."
Tom could hardly breathe. "I don't understand…"
"The very thing you fear is the very thing you will come to care about most in the world," was all the Malfoy heiress answered before she seemingly disappeared in a blink of an eye.
-Flashback ends-
Tom would be lying to himself if he said it hadn't unnerved him to the nth degree, but there was something in Loreley's eyes that had told him that the Three Weavers she feared so much, were deciding what to do next with his own tapestry. In all the years he knew her, Tom had never received a premonition from Loreley.
But, despite his own scepticism in Divination, Tom knew fully well he would be a fool if he did not take the Malfoy girl seriously on this singular occasion.
The very thing you fear is the very thing you will come to care about most in the world.
For some reason, Tom could not get those words out of his head. He feared death more than anything – why would he come to care for it?
#############################
That evening Abraxas Malfoy could not get to sleep, the events of today still playing like a broken record in his head. The snoring of Dolohov filled the otherwise quiet room. Black, Nott and Rosier had all been long asleep by the time Dolohov and Abraxas had prepared for bed, all taking an early night in an overt bid to avoid having to deal with both him and Dolohov. Not that Malfoy minded at all; he would rather not deal with the three of them either. Especially since the Malfoy Heir was in a mental No Man's Land between one decision and another.
Abraxas was sitting at the window, looking out into the depths of the Black Lake, as though he were waiting for inspiration to come swimming by. In his hands, was the vial that contained the blue mixture that reduced his Sight – the one his mother and his sister hated that he was taking.
"You insult your Lady Magic-given gifts," his mother had sniffed indignantly when he first started taking the potion. "You insult countless members of my line!"
Unlike some of his predecessors, Brutus Malfoy had decided to marry outside of the British magical aristocracy in order to gain new European allies. Lady Praxilla Malfoy was a scion of the prestigious Saint-Pol pureblood line, who also had semi-Squib members of their family who still had traces of magic in their veins. One member of the family, Jacquetta of Luxembourg, was an ancestor of the current Royal Family. The Saint-Pols were known descendants of Melusina, a water fairy with dragon blood, who was the daughter of the dragon fairy Pressyne and King Elinas of Albany, now known as Scotland. Thus this mythical blood flowed through Abraxas' veins. He was very proud of that, but he could not help but fear his own powers.
Abraxas knew Loreley feared the Fates, but he had never been as brave as his twin. Plus Loreley had the added benefit that she had manipulated everyone into underestimating her because they saw her as strange, thus never believed anything she said. Abraxas sometimes still had the odd chuckle at the fact Loreley had managed to get students and teachers alike to underestimate her. But she had a luxury he did not – she was a girl, and not Heir Apparent to the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy.
Abraxas was expected to seem the ideal pureblood heir, and having the Sight did not fall under that category. But it seemed that he could not outrun his own Family Magic, no matter how hard he tried. His odd dinosaur Patronus was surely proof of that.
The Malfoy Heir unsheathed his wand and put Silencing Charms around the beds of his dorm mates. Abraxas then closed his eyes, bringing his happiest memory forth. "Expecto Patronum," he whispered.
The strange carnivorous, reptilian creature burst from the end of the wand, looking around for the threat but when it saw none, padded back over to Abraxas and cocked its head at him. Abraxas smiled weakly. "Sorry, I don't have a Dementor for you to fight but … I need to talk to someone."
The dinosaur Patronus cocked its head to its other side.
Abraxas held up the vial. "This potion … it stops most of my visions. I See past events, you see. My sister Loreley Sees future events – two perfect opposites. But unlike my sister, I am … too weak to handle my visions. I have Seen so many deaths, plagues, wars, lives and seen creatures that are beyond belief and it scared me. Scared me enough to try and stop them, much to the chagrin of my mother. But recently … I don't know if I should keep taking it. There are things I actually want to See, such as what you are and from which time period you are from and I …I am just so sick of being afraid!" His hands curled into fists. "I am the Malfoy Heir and yet my sister is braver than I am. I cower away in a corner like a coward from something many would kill for."
His dinosaur Patronus regarded him in a studious manner before the creature started poking the vial with its snout, clearly trying to knock the thing out of Abraxas' hands but failing due to the fact the vial was solid.
"You don't think I should take it?" Abraxas deduced in an instant.
The Patronus shook its head vehemently.
Abraxas actually smiled at his soul creature. "I suppose you know something I do not, don't you?"
The dinosaur Patronus did not answer but Abraxas swore he saw it try and grin at him before disappearing. Sitting in the darkness, Abraxas spent another minute or two pondering. Once the time was up, he rose to his feet, put the vial on his desk and for the first time in years, went to sleep without that concoction in his system.
#############################
Fears were revealed and Altair finally had the courage to come clean to Arcturus Rosier about how he truly felt over his years at Hogwarts and about Riddle and his Knights. Harry also decided to give Arcturus a second chance; how will this affect her plan of redemption further? What will Tom do with the knowledge that Loreley knows something about his future? How will Abraxas cope with not taking his potion? We will have to wait and see!
Once more, this is JK's world and characters with the exception of Athenaïs the Gargouille. I apologise if the chapter may be a little late – I had some serious problems with Word that I tried to fix as quickly as possible. To all those who are following the story, I thank you from the bottom of my heart and hope you will continue to enjoy my work!
Orion: UMBREON! GRINDELWALD STOLE MY COOKIE!
Gellert: You were not eating it!
*Sighs*
See you guys next time!
Kingmaker'sUmbreon
