CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
Rollo had a funny feeling Friday morning that he was going to have to brace himself for the day to go completely awry very quickly. He was already happy that his morning coffee with Henry and Melanie had gone rather well, with no coffee being spilled or glass spontaneously breaking, and hoped that the moment he stepped into Gringotts, he would not be hit with a tidal wave of problems. Or at least, one giant tidal wave that was practically a tsunami.
The Head Cursebreaker found that, other than being called in to help Katerina with her cursed occult objects and then having to host an intervention with a few of his Cursebreakers close to a nervous breakdown, he was having a rather relaxing morning, in comparison to many others. Dealing with the nerves of his people, Rollo had more than enough experience in – considering everything, he was surprised he didn't have to do it sooner, or host more of them.
When the last Cursebreaker left his office, Rollo took a moment to breathe and decided to make himself a cup of tea – his head was spinning from the amount of stress and worry he was reading from his people. It was almost as though people could smell when he was free, or at least with not so much on his plate, because it was at precisely this moment that there was a rather enthusiastic knock at his door.
Judging by the jaunty rhythm used, Rollo could tell the person on the other side had some good news for him, so it was much easier for him to smile a little. "Come in!"
The door opened and in toddled Griphook, beaming from ear to ear with a letter in his hands as well as a neatly compiled dossier. The goblin was waving the letter around as though he had just won one million Galleons.
"Rollo! You need to see this!" Griphook exclaimed, eyes gleaming excitedly.
The Head Cursebreaker's smile expanded as the goblin reached up to put the dossier and letter onto his desk and then climbed onto one of the chairs in front of Rollo's desk, still vibrating with jubilation. Rollo first picked up the letter.
Dear Griphook,
Apologies once again for no sign of Cymede and Jason – the two automaton grimoires – but I have had this funny feeling there is more to them than just being simple grimoires. Don't ask me how or why; I think I am just a bit barmy. However, thanks to Altair, two of the spells they divulged were painstakingly translated and I thought it was best to send the translations – together with all of our notes – to you in advance while I try to figure out what it is my gut is telling me about these automatons.
I do not know if I am overstepping a mark or interfering above my station, but if it is possible, could you send me another of the artefacts discovered at the Temple of Hekate? I am hoping one of them could perhaps help me with my little funny feeling.
May your enemies always fall at your feet,
Lady Hera Peverell
Rollo smiled fondly at the letter. "Cymede and Jason – the automatons have names," he stated with amusement.
Griphook gave him a pointed look. "That isn't why I brought this to you!"
"I know," Rollo grinned. "But I already knew the Lady Hera would deliver, even if she did have a little help." He put the letter down. "I say we send the strange geometric box to her. Perhaps she or her friends can figure out what it contains?"
"Indeed. These children have knack for thinking of possibilities we haven't considered or stumbling on something, almost by accident," Griphook smirked a little.
"I doubt they managed to get their hands on ancient spells by accident, Griphook," Rollo had to suppress an eyeroll at that.
"Of course not, but most of our people would simply have been contented with knowing that the snakes were grimoires and made a report, leaving it at that and the actual research to academics," Griphook pointed out. "I hate to speak ill of any of our employees, but not all have Katerina's or Miles' work ethic."
"Most are also trained and suited to the field," Rollo easily defended, keeping his tone light. "Research usually is not needed there."
"True," Griphook concurred readily. He frowned thoughtfully. "Perhaps it is time to consider if it should be prudent for our next Cursebreakers to also know a few other subjects, other than Ancient Runes …"
Rollo chuckled lowly. "I hardly think now is the time for revolutionary thoughts, Griphook."
"Perhaps, but we also have to keep an eye on the future and ensure that our standards do not slip," the goblin answered. "Slipping standards could cost us more time and money wasted than we can afford. It is not something the King can countenance easily, either."
Rollo knew Griphook had a very good point there.
"Perhaps we can take the temperature of the Cursebreakers again, once this war is over?" Rollo mused himself.
Griphook grinned. "I am glad that you are not entirely averse to the idea, Rollo."
"I am not, but I am also wary about the potential of making someone who could be qualified or has potential to be great to not want to apply, or somehow become ineligible," Rollo responded with a sharp exhale. "I do not want to miss the chance of having another young prodigy somewhere in the future."
"Well, I suppose if Lady Hera and Heir Black's business takes off, that is definitely something we need to consider," Griphook stated musingly. "As much as I am certain Gringotts will do a lot of business with the Lady Hera, we still want Cursebreakers under contract with us, not Scythe and Raven. They will not want to work with a company who is out of date or makes them feel excluded."
"Exactly," Rollo agreed.
Griphook was about to reply, when there was a tap, tap, tap at the window.
The pair of them froze and the goblin guards looked up sharply, immediately on guard. Everyone turned to see a handsome hawk lurking on the ledge outside, eyeing Rollo very closely with a package in its claws.
Rollo's expression fell.
Oh no. He knew that hawk anywhere.
"Bert," he stated solemnly.
"You know that bird?" one of the guards spoke up for the first time that day.
"Unfortunately," Rollo sighed. "He belongs to Mr. Weird-Eyes."
Griphook's eyes widened immediately; all good mood had gone flying out of the window in an instant. He quickly composed himself and waved his hand to open the window. As soon as the window opened, Bert flew to Rollo's desk with the package and stuck his leg out to the double agent. Rollo tried his level best not to glare at the bird as he did so.
The hawk's wingbeats as it left sent in a parting wind that felt rather cold to the Head Cursebreaker and the Accountant of the Peverell Vaults. Rollo glared at the note as he unfolded it.
You know who we have been shopping for. See that it gets to her.
Rollo's jaw clenched and his hand curled into a fist, the parchment crumpling.
"If the gods are willing and there comes a day I see him again, I am going to enjoy punching that bastard in the face!" Rollo snarled, eyes blazing.
"Only a punch?" one of his guards teased nervously.
"He does not deserve an ounce of my magic," the Rowle heir sneered.
"Fair enough," Griphook stated. He eyed the box with suspicion and no certain amount of trepidation. "What do you think that is?"
"No doubt some manner of Dark artefact that he thinks will test the Lady Hera's powers," Rollo responded icily, glaring at the package as well. "Only Mordred knows how accursed it actually is."
"Perhaps we can ask our new Hit Wizard friends if they know what it could be?" one of the guards suggested.
"To be honest, I think on this occasion it may actually be safer to leave whatever it is in its paper," Griphook answered, swallowing a little. "Besides, I think it would be better to make it look as interfered with as possible, just in case."
Rollo nodded once curtly in agreement. "I will alert His Grace and the Lady Hera's family to the situation once I have sent this thing and our own artefact to Her Ladyship. We might as well kill two birds with one stone while we are at it. I will do it first thing tomorrow – buy the girl some more time to just be a normal teenager."
Griphook winced a little but he didn't disagree. He sighed deeply to himself. "I had actually begun to hope that we were past this kind of nonsense."
"When it comes to Grindelwald, one can never allow the barriers to come down for a single moment," Rollo answered coldly. "Not for a single moment, or you could be dead."
"Well, let us hope the children have their wits about them," one of the guards stated derisively. "Because I doubt Hogwarts will survive if there is yet another student death on their hands within two years of the last one!"
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Tom found himself staring into the still lit fire in the fireplace of the Slytherin common room, seated in his high-backed chair, at an unearthly hour of Friday morning, vibrating where he was sitting, his mind racing.
He had not been able to get back to sleep for hours; the night before the last Gaunt had slept just as badly but he thought it was because of Felix's snoring and his paranoid mind refusing to rest. Unfortunately, this night had proven that his inability to sleep had nothing to do with Felix's snoring or his mind.
Tom had awoken from a nightmare – one where he had watched his accursed dark side try to kill Altair and Harry – and when the Heir of Slytherin had awoken with a start, it was as though all the shadows in the room were alive. They had rolled around his four poster bed like water around an islet, and when Tom had gone to splash water in his face, they had parted for him like the Red Sea.
The Gaunt Heir thought he had imagined it all until he had – in a brief moment of anger – slashed into the shadows, accidentally sending a blade of indigo at his own bed. Tom's eyes had widened in disbelief when he saw that he had decapitated the wooden snake carvings atop his four poster bed.
As if that wasn't bad enough, Tom could have sworn that he could sense the living and dead presences at the school – he had noticed that over a couple of days but he dismissed the feeling as him being ridiculous.
It was this confusion and surprise that was keeping Tom from going back into the Realm of Hypnos; he wanted to know what the hell was going on, and why it was happening.
What he didn't know, was that he was not the only one experiencing something similar.
"Tom."
The Heir of Slytherin looked up sharply to see Altair, dressed only in a sleeping shirt and trousers with slightly dishevelled hair, standing close but still at a safe distance. Tom noticed immediately that his lover's eyes were also ringed by dark lines.
"Altair," Tom greeted softly. "You can't sleep either?"
"No," Altair confirmed quietly, shuffling his feet and ducking his head a little. "I … There has been something going on with me for the past few days that I … just can't explain."
Tom's brow furrowed a little. "You as well?" he couldn't help but state.
This made Altair look at him directly with a frown of his own. "Things have been happening to you as well? What kind of things?" he wanted to know, eyes slightly wide.
Tom could not help but smile teasingly. "I will tell you mine if you tell me yours," he bargained.
Altair rolled his eyes but couldn't help chuckling. "I should have seen that coming."
"Yes, you should have, my dear," Tom agreed as he stood up from his high backed chair and took a seat on one of the nearby sofas and patted the seat next to him. "So, come and sit with me, and tell me what has been going on."
Altair obeyed. The moment he sat down, though, he ran his hand through his hair ponderingly, giving a short, mirthless laugh. "I have not the foggiest idea what is going on with me. I have either tried to ignore what has been going on, or freaking out internally because the books in the library can't explain what it is either."
Tom frowned in concern but didn't say anything in case Altair had not finished. His future Consort continued, breath shuddering a little in fear. "I have been having dreams that are not my own … I have hopped from nightmare to nightmare … vision to vision … in some cases I was able to … add or take away from the dreams," Altair stopped for a moment, shaking his head despondently. Tom instinctively took Altair's right hand in his left and began caressing the back of his hand with his thumb.
It gave Altair the confidence to continue, at least. "I saw your nightmare …" he whispered.
This made Tom flinch a little and give Altair's hand a squeeze. "Altair-"
"No, I won't hear it. I know that thing was you but it wasn't you," Altair stated firmly, giving Tom a fierce look that made the last Gaunt's heart skip a few beats. The Nott Heir continued. "I have also been feeling … the presence of everyone around me – living or dead. It's like I am able to tell where everyone is in the castle at any given moment. I don't know how or why or even if I am just imagining things but that is how I describe it."
Tom's eyes widened at hearing that. "That sounds like one of the sensations I have been experiencing as well!"
Altair paled. "What?"
"Yes," Tom swallowed a little, squeezing Altair's hand. "My own situation is a little different to yours. I have been able to sense the presence of people, living and dead, in the castle – almost to the point that it becomes overwhelming, but I thought I was just being my usual paranoid self." He laughed mirthlessly at that. "But I discovered something this morning that … I simply cannot explain away."
"Tell me," Altair urged.
Tom laughed derisively. "You are going to think I am mad."
"That ship has long sailed, my love," Altair teased lightly.
There was a moment of silence while Tom plucked up his courage to voice what had happened. "I made the shadows in my dorm come alive … and I accidentally used them to vandalise my bed."
This was not the answer Altair expected, judging from the gaping that ensued as well as the eyes that were almost bugging out of their sockets. "Sorry, come again? I thought I just heard you say that you used shadows to vandalise your bed."
"Yes," Tom confirmed with a sharp exhale. "I decapitated two of the snake sculptures on the front posts of my bed."
"How come?" Altair inquired, eyes widening.
"Because I was angry at myself, and at the nightmare," Tom deflated a little. "I just lashed out at the shadows but I … accidentally turned them into a weapon. I have no idea how I did it or why it is happening now."
Altair took a moment to process this and then frowned thoughtfully. Tom saw the gears in his lover's head whirring and cocked his head at him. "Altair, what is it?" he asked as calmly as he could manage, trying to keep the nervousness out of his tone.
"Did the shadows look like Harry's shadows?" was the question that came out of Altair's mouth.
Tom was taken aback for a moment before he frowned and began to consider what Altair meant. Come to think of it, the shadows did act in almost the exact same way as the shadows did with Harry when she was about to Shadow Transform. The shadows in his room had reacted to his own whims and emotional state.
"A little," Tom eventually answered once he was done pondering. "Well, they moved in a similar manner."
Altair nodded thoughtfully, biting his lip for a moment; Tom felt his desire spike dangerously for a moment with that move but started to count in Parseltongue in order to stay in control. Fortunately, he was knocked away from his sinful thoughts with Altair's next statement.
"I think this has something to do with our Marks."
Tom froze and considered for a moment for himself. Harry was the Mistress of Death; her Soul Magick was bound to more potent than of a normal Peverell or Soul Mage. Their beloved had used her Soul Magick to fix Tom's broken soul and some of it had also gone into Altair.
Tom knew that magic followed the Laws of Nature – energy, even Magickal, could not be destroyed. It needed somewhere to go, and apparently some of it likely lodged themselves onto the Magickal Cores of Altair and Tom.
"I think you may be right," Tom replied quietly. "Perhaps we need to ask … Thanatos for help?"
"If anyone knows what is going on with us, it is likely Death himself," Altair agreed with a small nod. "But I also think we need to talk to Harry about this. I know she will not want to be kept in the dark."
"Agreed," Tom concurred readily with a sharp exhale. "We will just need to find a good moment to talk to her today."
"Before her double History lesson," Altair added. "We both know Harry will very likely be extremely knackered by the end of the day, especially since she also has that essay from Dippet to finish."
Tom smirked a little. "I heard Mallory got an earful from his whole House – Smith included – and a week's detention from Professor Griffith for insulting Mr. Ogden and pushing Harry's buttons. Everyone is treating this as accidental magic."
Altair snorted. "Of course they are! Because that is better than having to admit that one of their students is actually able to wield the same kind of magic as Merlin, Gaius, Nimueh, Morgause, Mordred and Morgana. Not exactly something someone wants to parade lightly!"
"Understatement," Tom commented dryly. "The Light would try and have more than ninety per cent of Hogwarts' book collection and potentially the whole archive removed as a so-called precaution!"
"Exactly, so let's hope Harry learns a lot from that essay; her own Family Magick may depend on it," Altair sighed. "Which may be ours now too."
Tom nodded but didn't answer. He stole as many kisses from Altair as he could before the pair sensed the Slytherin dungeon being let out of the Realm of Hypnos and had to escape to their separate dorms in order to give the illusion that they had simply been early risers.
Both Tom and Altair took at least one Invigoration Draught before breakfast.
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Me and my bloody Potter temper.
This thought crossed Harry's mind at least five hundred times during the course of the break and one of her three free periods on Friday. The Lady Regnant had wanted to get on with her Ancient Runes work and just spend some time in the archive, but she had ended up in the Restricted Section with the books Professor Dippet suggested to her. It wasn't as though the books were not interesting or useful – Harry was already thankful none of them had screamed at her – but still.
Plus, she had no idea how long Professor Dippet expected it to be. She had already spent three leaves analysing the Mind Magick techniques most effective in combating accident magic due to emotional imbalances – a few of which Harry was actively going to try and use. She had also spent two leaves, writing on the role of Legilimency and telepathy in new studies on magic control. The issue was, Harry knew she was no Hermione; the walking library that had been her sister would know exactly what needed to go in as well.
As a result, Harry alternated quickly between putting her head on the table, talking to herself in Parseltongue, then going back to the books to re-read the pertinent chapters just to make sure she had not missed anything. When the words started swimming in front of her eyes again, the Traveller was promptly back at Square Head on Table.
"Ah there you are, Miss Evans! Oh, are you all right?"
Harry did not know how long she was working – she had made it a point of principle not to check the Tempus too often because time seemed to slow in her head when she did that – and that was potentially the reason why she sat up bolt upright, eyes wide with fear as she looked at Dumbledore.
The man was dressed in robes covered by dahlias and giving her a warm smile. Harry gulped. "Sir, did I miss a lesson?" she asked nervously. "I have hit a brick wall with the essay Headmaster Dippet has set me, so there is a huge chance I have just lost track of time entirely."
The Head of Gryffindor chuckled. "Oh, no dear girl! You haven't missed a lesson. No, I was searching for you because I was wondering if I could have a word with you over a nice cup of tea about something? You are not in any trouble."
Something told Harry that wasn't entirely the case, but she also couldn't come up with a valid reason to refuse. So, the young Cursebreaker packed up her essay and her books, then followed Dumbledore out of the library and to his office.
"Did you learn anything useful from the books?" Dumbledore asked civilly.
"Lots, sir," Harry answered truthfully. "That isn't the issue. I just want to make sure I am not missing something important."
"Good. I admit that I initially had reservations that an essay would do the situation much good, given how much trauma we are likely talking that you are dealing with, but I am very glad that you are keeping an open mind," the Deputy Head responded, ignoring the whispers from students walking by about the Queen of Slytherin potentially being in trouble with the Head of Gryffindor.
Harry wisely choice to hold her tongue.
"Mr. Mallory has not filed an official complaint against you, if you are wondering," Dumbledore continued. "In fact, he – and the rest of his House – stated that your … unique brand of accidental magic cannot always be helped. I think Aneurin may have had more than one firm word for him." Dumbledore chuckled. "Indeed, I myself can attest to that your magic reacts on its own from time to time!"
Harry flushed a little in embarrassment at that.
"Given everything you have been through, I am rather surprised you did not break sooner," the Transfigurations professor continued talking as he led her through his classroom and up to his office. He gestured for Harry to take a seat, which she did.
"I am still kicking myself for it, sir," Harry responded easily, fumbling a little with her signet ring.
"Oh, I do not doubt that, Miss Evans," Dumbledore reassured easily as he began boiling the water. "I also do not doubt that there was a very good reason why your magic viewed Mr. Mallory as a threat."
"There was," Harry readily agreed, swallowing a little. She chuckled mirthlessly. "I had a bit of a … tiff with some of my friends just after we … watched Mr. Ogden die." She closed her eyes for a moment, making sure to keep her countenance and control her tone. "My familiar knew Mr. Ogden well; was friends with him. She was there before we were – his death hit her really hard. And … erm … Felix, for whatever reason, couldn't stand or understand her grief and snapped at her."
Professor Dumbledore's face fell at hearing this. "Mr. Mulciber?"
Harry continued as her former mentor in another timeline poured her some tea. "Yes. I got angry at Felix for his utter lack of empathy, and … it got worse when I realised that most of my friends, Tom and Altair included, actually held some similar views to him."
The Traveller had to wash the bile in her throat with some of the tea.
"Which views, Miss Evans?" Professor Dumbledore asked carefully; very carefully, for his doing.
"That Mr. Ogden wasn't family and was just the groundskeeper of the school, so wasn't really worth Atty's tears," Harry summed up quickly, her hands clenching for a moment, her jaws setting momentarily. She scoffed. "I don't know if you know but Artemis was there too and was a member of our group who used to visit Mr. Ogden for tea. I just couldn't stand to look at my friends that evening so I had an impromptu sleepover with some of your Lions."
"I did hear of something like that," Dumbledore confirmed in his usual grandfatherly tone. "I just did not know the reason as to why."
"Yeah," Harry whispered. She exhaled sharply. "I talked to Loreley about this before History not too long ago and I still can't understand how some people can think that because someone is not as well off or do a job that some consider to be servant's work, that they are somehow lesser and deserve less than a Noble or a student do."
"What did Miss Malfoy say?" Dumbledore asked curiously, sipping his own tea.
"Essentially, that not everyone has my life experience; my outlook on life," Harry chuckled mirthlessly.
"Which I think is very true," Dumbledore agreed. "Miss Malfoy has always had a good head on her shoulders."
"Yes," Harry agreed readily.
"Have you had further … issues with your friends? With Mr. Riddle and Mr. Nott?" the Deputy Head inquired curiously.
"No, sir," Harry smiled smally. "In fact, they apologised. Well, my girls, Tom and Altair apologised."
The half-moon spectacles moved a little down Dumbledore's nose in surprise. "Oh?"
"Yes," Harry found herself grinning for a moment. "I was as surprised as you are, sir."
"In hindsight, I should not be. I do not say this to most people, Miss Evans, but I will say this to you. I have been continuously surprised at the changes I have seen in the Slytherins ever since you graced our halls," Dumbledore smiled genuinely. "A very big change for the better."
"Perhaps," Harry replied as politically as she could manage. "I would not know. I have only heard different accounts."
"Fair enough," Dumbledore added some more sugar to his tea. "Have you heard from your employers lately?"
The alarm bells in Harry's heart started ringing. Meddling alert, meddling alert!
"I have been in close contact with them, for the first time," Harry decided to just give the man the bare minimum. "With new and unidentified artefacts, I thought it was best to give regular updates because they have given the historic task of investigating historical finds to a freelancer and her friends. The research of the automaton grimoires has been slow but definitely worth it!"
"Automaton grimoires?" Dumbledore's eyes shone at that.
"Indeed," Harry grinned. "In the shape of snakes; they only speak Ancient Greek, which isn't too surprising so Altair has been doing most of the translation work since he knows some Ancient Greek."
"Fascinating! But they have not told you anything that sounds untoward?"
Harry frowned quite deeply at this point, her alarm bells ringing a little louder. "I do not know what you mean by that, sir, sorry."
"Such as unannounced guests?"
This was an answer Harry did not expect at all, but, practically hearing Queen Anne's words in her head, she kept her countenance as composed as she could. "No, sir," she shook her head, making sure to sound a little bit bewildered at least. "To be honest, 'unannounced guests visiting' does not fall under my job description, so Gringotts do not keep me up to date on those unless they are pertinent to my family."
"I see," Dumbledore sipped his tea.
Harry did the same and gathered some of her old Gryffindor courage together. "Why do you ask, sir?" she inquired curiously.
The Head of Gryffindor swallowed. "An old friend got in touch with me, regarding his people in the Resistance," Harry was rather surprised she was getting a truthful answer. "They have gone missing on mission."
Harry's eyes widened a little. "Missing?" she repeated. "Ghost, Meg and Goliath have gone missing?"
Dumbledore looked surprised. "You know them?"
The Traveller kicked herself mentally for a moment. "Not very well," Harry replied. "They tried to get into contact with me regarding their friends' cursed mental states, but I couldn't help them much. They were here for a mission – don't know what – and then the last time I saw them, they were heading somewhere. No idea where; a bunch of us met in London for Tom's birthday."
"I see," Dumbledore pursed his lips. "Thank you for that information, though, Miss Evans."
"No problem, sir. I am sorry I can't be of much help," Harry smiled smally as she poured herself another cuppa.
"It is quite all right. Now, I think we still have time for one more cup of tea before we both have to get back to work," the grandfatherly smile and twinkle were back again. "Shall we listen to some music?"
Harry lit up and nodded emphatically while making a mental note to contact Griphook about these apparent three missing Hit Wizards.
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"It's begun."
Melinoë stopped sipping her afternoon coffee and bobbing her head to the music she was listening to. She frowned deeply, a mixture of confusion and concern. Thanatos handed her the letter he had only just received from Tom and Altair. As the Goddess of Ghosts read, the God of Death continued.
"Their gifted powers are beginning to awaken."
"So it would seem," Melinoë answered musingly as she continued to read the letter from Harry's lovers. "Judging from this, they both have the potential to become Soul Mages. Altair's powers seem to be closer to Hypnos', which is interesting … and Tom's are closer to yours." She grinned. "Oh the delicious irony!"
"I am glad you find this so amusing," Thanatos stated derisively, shaking his head at his cousin. "Untrained those two could pose a problem!"
"Then get in contact with Harry and enlighten her to the situation!" Melinoë shot back. "We can also start including those two in our training sessions with Harry. We have a solution at the ready; there is no need to panic, Tosti."
Thanatos scowled. "Tom already weaponised the shadows, Mel!"
"Yes, and luckily no one got hurt," the Goddess of Ghosts agreed. "Which means we need to have those two trained sooner rather than later. So, I say you tell Harry the moment you can pluck up the courage to."
The God of Death spluttered in indignation at that. "I have plenty courage to tell her, thank you!"
"You didn't when it was her own status as Mistress of Death at stake," Melinoë countered easily. "Hypnos and I practically had to threaten you into doing it, and the Moirai kindly gave you no choice but to come clean to her by waking her Uncles up."
Thanatos glowered at his cousin but didn't answer. He knew she had a point there.
"Yes, well, I learned from that mistake," he stated, folding his arms.
"We shall see," Melinoë responded crisply. "Because Harry can be forgiving when it comes to herself since she barely cares about her own life, but when it is Tom and Altair, I doubt she would be willing to show much clemency for not being involved sooner."
"I know," Thanatos reassured. "I will tell her before the day is out."
"Good. Or I will do it for you," the Goddess of Ghosts promised, before returning to the book she had been reading.
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Athenaïs was up on the Astronomy Tower, after a good hunt, with an Arithmancy book that Loreley had given her to study during her break. The Gargouille had thrown herself into the book – studying the funny numbers and equations actually helped the young dragon to forget her grief for a bit.
For the fun of it, Atty had attempted to try and use the funny equations to see if she could predict some of the events of the day and the movements of some of the people. The results the stone dragon got was that Harry was going to get surprised more than once, Tom and Altair would discover the answer to their problems by the end of Sunday, Dippet was still indecisive on an important decision and Aragog was going to wake up a few days before Imbolc.
Athenaïs didn't fully understand how she was able to get these results but she didn't mull it over too much. She was just having some fun.
Her ears pricked up when she heard the door to the Tower open downstairs.
"-I know it is stupid, but I hate that I need more practise."
Atty knew that voice; it was Arcturus Rosier!
"You know my opinion on the matter. It isn't shameful. There is a reason why I attend the Revision Club for most of my subjects!" Atty heard Caius Dolohov snort as they began climbing up the stairs.
"I get that – you're right on all counts; Old Magic is tough. But I was always taught that we wizards and witches just learn everything naturally because it is how we were made," Arcturus sighed.
"Some ways, it is true, but not everyone has talent for all branches of magic," Caius pointed out as they reached the landing. He stopped with what he was saying when he spotted Atty looking at him solemnly and then turning back to her book.
Arcturus had frowned at the fact his friend had stopped talking, and then noticed who he had seen. "Athenaïs," he greeted cordially. "We didn't expect to find you here."
The Gargouille chirped, but didn't lift her eyes from her book. Caius and Arcturus exchanged a look before Arc tried again. "What are you doing?" he asked amicably.
Atty showed Altair's best friend her book. Arcturus and Caius were surprised to see the Arithmantic equations. Caius could not help but grin. "Arithmancy. Of all things! That is pretty neat," he complimented. "Where did you get the book?"
Arcturus had pre-emptively given Atty some parchment, quill and ink to use. The Gargouille was very thankful for that.
LORELEY
The dragon almost grinned at Caius' shock when he saw that she had the ability to write in their English tongue. Caius recovered quite quickly. "Why are you up here on your own?" he wanted to know.
LIKE IT. PEACEFUL.
"Fair enough," Arcturus replied with a warm smile. He found himself suddenly feeling rather nervous for some reason. "May we … may we join you? We promise to try and not disturb you too much."
Kkkyyyyuoo! Atty answered as she pulled her book back towards her.
"Rosier may not be able to keep that promise. He may shout at the objects he is trying to summon," Caius informed with a small grin.
Arcturus huffed with annoyance, but there was something in his eyes that made Atty cock her head a little at the friend of Harry's mate. She then looked at the eyes of Caius – there was something there. Definitely! Atty knew the look, but she didn't know if the emotion was as strong as Harry's was for her mates.
SHOUT AT OBJECTS?
"Rosier is trying to get his objects to respond much more quickly to his Old Magic summoning spell," Caius explained. "It doesn't always work."
"It's maddening," Arcturus stated.
The young dragon frowned thoughtfully. Telekinesis and moving objects were pretty easy for her, mainly thanks to Lara and Eve, but Atty has been getting better without their help. Perhaps she could help the humans with their little problem? Yes, her magic was not the same as this Old Magic, but still – the principle was the same, right?
Atty decided to at least offer.
WANT SOME HELP?
It was not what Caius or Arcturus had expected, because they both gaped at her. It was Caius who recovered first. "That's very kind of you, Athenaïs, but this is not something that a dragon can help with," he answered kindly.
Athenaïs gave him a sassy look and a grin before she turned her attention onto his and Arcturus' school bags. She closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on gathering enough power, and then opened her eyes and spread her wings. The young dragon's onyx eyes were as bright as Harry's peridot eyes; the bags shot up into the air and began dancing mid-air, following Atty's every direction.
The young dragon chirped happily; her control had more than improved! All that training was paying off!
As for Caius and Arcturus, they were watching their bags in utter disbelief, their eyes bugging out of their sockets.
"What in the name of Mordred's mud-covered boots – how is Athenaïs doing this?!" Caius exclaimed once he managed to find the ability to talk again.
"Telekinesis. She's using telekinesis," Arcturus was still in a state of disbelief. "How in the name of everything magical is she able to use telekinesis?!"
It was at this point that Atty put the bags down and her eyes stopped glowing, looking extremely pleased with herself. She turned to the two wizards with a sassy look; one that they were able to translate on their own. Still think I can't help you with this?
Caius and Arcturus were still shellshocked for another minute, gaping and blinking. They exchanged a look once they recovered, with the Dolohov heir gulping a little. "I don't see how we can refuse now," he managed to state, still sounding like he was in disbelief.
"Yeah," Arcturus agreed and then the Rosier heir started chuckling. Atty and Caius frowned at him in concern.
"Everything all right, Rosier?" Caius asked with a great deal of concern.
"Yep, perfectly fine," Arcturus answered as soon as he managed to compose himself. "I was just thinking that I should stop expecting anything around Harry to be remotely normal. Familiar included."
Atty rolled her eyes at that. Caius snorted at that; he didn't disagree.
Arcturus turned back to his friend's draconic familiar. "If you really want to help us, Atty, we would love that," he smiled warmly at her. The small only retracted a little when he added, "I also think we owe you an apology for how we … weren't more understanding of your feelings about Mr. Ogden's death. You didn't deserve to be treated like that."
"Yeah," Caius rubbed the back of his neck, taking a very sudden interest in the floor of the Astronomy Tower. "I am sorry for … being an O-grade butthole," he added awkwardly. Atty smiled a little; apologising really did not come naturally to this wizard, but he did try.
Atty thanked the both of them for their attempts by pouncing on them and nuzzling them warmly, causing the pair to protest loudly, though laughing through each exclamation.
"Athenaïs, stop! That tickles – hahahahaha – you are a little heavy – hahahahahahaha!"
"Merlin – Atty, please don't flatten us – hahahaha – yep, that does tickle – no, no, no, not again, Atty! – Hahahahahaha!"
The Familiar of the Mistress of Death eventually let the pair sit up, looking triumphant while the pair composed themselves. Very soon, everyone turned to the business at hand. Arcturus and Caius closed their eyes, focusing on their magic, while Atty watched them very carefully. The boys incanted the spell and opened their eyes; Atty admired the bright colours in their irises as they did so.
She watched Caius' bag zoom towards him, while Arc's bag kept rolling over very slowly on its way to its owner. The dragon would have laughed if she didn't see Arcturus' extremely disgruntled expression.
"I don't think my own bag likes me," the boy stated sulkily as the bag flopped to a stop in front of him.
Atty giggled but picked up her quill.
IS YOUR MAGIC PULLING THE BAG, OR PUSHING?
Arcturus frowned at this. "Pulling or pushing?" he repeated. "I … I don't know. I think pushing, since it feels like I have to put a lot of effort into the spell even after the incantation."
Atty nodded sagely and then picked up the quill again.
VISUALISE YOUR MAGIC LIKE A LASSO
USE ONE OF YOUR HANDS TO PULL THE LASSO
Arcturus' brow furrowed further. "Lasso? What lasso? I don't get it."
Caius did seem to understand. "I think she wants you to use one of your hands as a focal point for the spell to drag the bag to," he translated.
Atty nodded emphatically.
The Rosier heir's face lit up a little. "Oh, OK! I'll try it."
Athenaïs moved Arcturus' bag a bit further back again and then howled mystically at him to try again. He closed his eyes again, drawing on his magical core – Atty almost started jumping up and down with glee at the amount of magic she sensed him drawing on this time. Arcturus raised his right hand and his eyes flew open. "Onbregdan!"
This time, the bag slid across the ground as though it were on ice – it didn't jump up to try and meet Arc's hand as Atty had hoped, but the bag stopped firmly in front of the Rosier boy, which she did count as a win.
Arcturus counted that as a win as well.
He moved his bag back on his own this time. "I want to try again!"
Caius chuckled and then turned his attention back onto his own bag; Atty kept her unblinking gaze on him. She watched him close his eyes and hold his right hand out in front of him. "Onbregdan!" he incanted as his eyes opened, flashing with his magic.
Athenaïs watched in surprise as the bag began to shake. She watched as two books jumped out of the bag onto the floor next to the bag; judging by Caius' expression, that wasn't entirely meant to happen. The Russian was scowling at the books and clenching his jaws slightly. The dragon padded over and cocked her head before writing,
WHAT WERE YOU TRYING TO DO?
Caius flushed red and started rubbing the back of his neck. "Erm … I was trying to get my Divination books from the bottom of the bag."
Atty knew immediately what he needed to do, but didn't know precisely how the spell needed to be precisely worded.
HARRY WILL KNOW WHAT TO DO.
I KNOW WHAT ISSUE IS
DON'T KNOW HOW THE SPELL NEEDS TO BE CHANGED, THOUGH
Caius gave a nod and flashed her a smile. "Thank you, Athenaïs."
Meanwhile, Arc was celebrating for summoning his bag even faster the third time around. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes – I think I actually have the hang of this now. I think – ooooffff."
Atty started giggling madly as Arc clutched his stomach after the bag he had summoned did the last leg of the journey through the air and made direct contact with his stomach. Caius was for a moment more concerned about Arc's welfare, until the Rosier heir started laughing madly too, sprawled on the floor.
"Bloody hell, I am an idiot. Atty, Dolohov, please don't tell Altair about this!" Arcturus begged.
The Gargouille chirped, but quietly, decided to save this story for another time.
Caius chuckled. "Don't fret, Rosier. He will not hear it from me, but I think we do need to head out soon, unless we want to risk the ire of Professor Evans."
###########################################################################
"Harry, we need to talk."
Uh-oh, those words are never good, Harry's Gryffindor voice commented. The Traveller had just finished checking all of her simulation sigils when the concerned but melodious tone of one of the halves of her heart sounded in her ears. Her Mistress of Death powers had alerted her to Tom and Altair's presence nearby; she just didn't expect them this early. The lesson was not going to start for another fifteen minutes.
Harry rose to her feet, her gaze on her two lovers. "Tom, Altair. I take it this is not a case of you wishing to be early to class," she half-joked, trying to lighten the tension that she was sensing building between them.
"No," Tom agreed as he quickly put a privacy charm on the entrance of the History classroom. He and Altair exchanged a look before he turned back to her. "We … we have a problem and we have no idea how to fix it."
Harry frowned. "What kind of problem?" she inquired.
"Strange things are happening to us. We … we can suddenly do things we couldn't do before," Altair answered, his voice shaking. "I am able to … hop from dream to dream. Control dreams."
Harry's eyes widened. "What?!"
"I am able to control and summon shadows," Tom continued. "And the both of us are able to sense living and dead presences in the castle."
This made Harry's heart skip several beats.
"I thought it was just some kind of weird coincidences and that I was being an idiot," Altair was pacing by this point. "But this morning it happened again, only it was so obvious that I couldn't ignore it."
"I couldn't get back to sleep because of it," Tom confessed readily.
Altair continued to ramble. "I mean when I had a moment of clarity I theorised it could be because of our Marks. Because of … what we did. Your Magick travelled into us and left an imprint. There is no way that doesn't have some kind of consequence!"
"Indeed," Harry agreed readily. She leant back against her desk and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I was warned that this could be a possibility of happening …"
"Thanatos?" Tom guessed readily.
Harry nodded. "With the kind of Magick I had to tap into, there was no way that it didn't leave something behind. The issue is, we likely need to train you before your powers become a danger to you and everyone else around you."
Tom chuckled nervously. "Almost too late. I accidentally defaced my bed with the shadows in anger this morning."
Harry's eyes almost bugged out of her sockets hearing that. "OK, I am getting in touch with Tosti and the others tonight. We need to sort this out sooner rather than later."
Her lovers nodded in agreement. Harry shook her head despondently and scoffed. "I am so sorry about this."
"Harry, no!" Altair protested; Tom shook his head in disbelief.
"This is literally my fault," Harry pointed out. "It's my Magick that's lodged inside you." She scoffed. "I am supposed to be protecting you, not putting you in danger-"
She didn't get to say anything more on the account of Tom, who had marched over during her rambling, kissing her fiercely. He plundered her mouth for good twenty seconds before breaking away and regarding her with determined, lust-filled eyes.
"Altair and I do not blame you; we simply need to know what is going on," he stated firmly, his tone a little hoarse. He carded his fingers through her curls lovingly. A cheeky grin formed onto his lips. "You may need a haircut again soon. Your hair is getting wild again."
Harry playfully smacked him for that comment, but the three of them were soon laughing heartily. Tom and Altair – after Altair stole his own kiss from Harry – helped her fo through the last checks before the rest of the class arrived.
###########################################################################
Malum was aware that perhaps he was slowly descending into a hole of paranoia, but also knew that his eyes were not deceiving him. Currently, he was with his friends at dinner, prodding his stew with his spoon and his mind racing. He had spent the majority of Harry's continued lesson on Magical Mischief focusing between his notes and his suitor, trying to perhaps see if his funny feelings had no basis in anything. What the Avery heir actually got to see, was that there was more going on between his friends and loved ones than he first thought.
Rosier and Caius were spending much more time together in private study sessions – they said it was just extra Old Magic practise, but Malum did not fully believe it. After all, Rosier had been spending an entire afternoon researching Marks in the library because he thought Harry, Nott and Tom had breached protocol at the most intimate level. While the Malfoys had been convincing, Malum doubted that Rosier would have simply let that go, especially since Nott was involved. Perhaps Caius was helping him now?
Another thing that bothered Malum, was how sedate Ophelia was. He had noted that the girl he really liked and cared for was a whole lot less chatty and a bit more jumpy than usual for the past few days, and ever since yesterday, the Rowle heiress would stare into space a whole lot more. Unless of course she was spoken to, and momentarily turned into her old self. Ophelia was also far more reluctant to make eye contact for a longer period of time, which really did not sit right with Malum.
Plus, he noticed she refused to look in Loreley Malfoy's direction, nor in Harry's, for an extended period of time. It was this that practically confirmed to Malum that Ophelia was being bothered by something, and was not talking about it. To anyone. And what shocked Malum even more, was that no one – except perhaps Loreley – noticed.
Well, the conflicted expression that Malum wore on his countenance was also noticed, unfortunately.
"Oi, Avery. You're supposed to eat the stew, not poke it," Octavius Weasley joked.
"You look like it has offended you somehow," Ignatius Prewett added with a smirk.
Septimus Weasley gasped dramatically. "Oh no, I am betting the stew is a Gryffindor supporter!"
While people around him began chuckling, Malum forced himself to smile. "Oh, ha-ha-ha-ha! Very funny, Weasley!" he stated snarkily as he forced himself to eat.
"Everything all right, Malum?" Harry asked kindly.
The Avery heir raised his eyes to meet hers and smiled smally. "I am fine. Just got a lot on my mind."
"Anything we can help with?" she inquired as she pricked a tomato on her fork.
If only it would mean getting a straight answer, Malum internally commented to himself.
"No, but thank you for the offer," he answered, going back to his stew.
"Worried about your strategy for the finals, Avery?" Artemis teased. "You are going to need all the strategic thinking you are capable of with Wood's mania turning us into super fliers."
Malum found himself grinning. "No, indeed, I think I will just wait for all of you to drop off your brooms like flies, Potter. Might make our lives a whole lot easier."
"And our commentary boring!" Orion protested, Harry also pretending to be affronted. "You Lions had better stay on those brooms, for all our sakes."
"Making jokes about players dropping like flies would become redundant very quickly," Harry agreed easily. "Our style would be cramped in seconds! Not good."
"I don't see how anything could 'cramp' your style!" Druella snorted.
"I see you adapting to that situation very quickly," Billy agreed, grinning madly.
"Yes, well, I would prefer if it didn't happen and the Lions actually put up a fight," Orion grinned, exchanging a look with Harry. "We have something really fun planned that we hope won't get disturbed by Dark Lords or Dementors or players trying to murder each other."
Harry laughed shortly. "Or Dumbledore getting a whiff of what we are up to and trying to pre-emptively top us!" she added.
"Aaaaiiii, yes, that could be a big problem indeed!" Orion grimaced at that thought.
"You already have more ideas?" Minerva sighed in exasperation, shaking her head at her two diabolical friends. "Do you two ever stop plotting to give the Deputy Headmaster a heart attack?"
"Not really," the commentators chorused happily, causing their friends to chuckle. Malum felt he could join in; he was happy he had managed to deflect the topic to something far more safer than his own suspicions.
However, he later discovered that he had not entirely deflected everyone from what was bothering him. While everyone else focused on finishing homework, last bits of coursework and having some fun after dinner, Malum decided to go and take a shower and see if he could get an early night in.
Unfortunately for the Avery heir, someone had noticed his own strange behaviour over the last days and at dinner, thus decided to seize the next opportunity they could to confront him. Malum had just discarded his blazer and shirt when Heron marched into the room with purpose in his step and closing the door firmly behind him, eyes blazing.
"What's been going on? The truth, if you please?" the Lestrange Heir not-so-subtly demanded, which took Malum completely off guard. In all the time he had known Heron, the usually soft-spoken boy had never addressed him in this manner.
Malum was so shocked he forgot the ability to speak for a moment. " I … What … I … What's gotten in to you?"
"You do not get to ask me that!" Heron countered fiercely. "First, I have Tom momentarily turning into his old self because he believes you have been talking to me about some kind of Mark that he has. Second, I overhear you two arguing about that damn Mark and him demanding to know about Travellers of all things, and then there are all the damn secrets being kept!"
Malum swallowed a little at this. "Secrets?" he repeated, trying to keep his tone neutral.
"As if you don't know!" Heron laughed mirthlessly. "All of our friends go into corners to whisper about Merlin-knows-what! Tom and Nott are keeping something secret – Harry has too many to count! Artemis knows something, Loreley knows more than anyone, Caius and Rosier go off together these days, Harry's girls know more than just something and even McGonagall knows something we don't! And then there is you."
"Me?" Malum raised an eyebrow.
"The way you keep looking at Ophelia," Heron clarified. "And no, I am not referring to your pining, which is just as irritating!"
"I don't think you get to lecture me on that subject, old friend," Malum shot back easily, his own eyes flashing.
"Do not attempt to worm your way out of this," Heron warned. "You were staring at Ophelia as though you were waiting for her to either keel over and be taken to the Hospital Wing, or you know she is keeping something from you. I know that look because I actually have caught myself looking at Artemis the same way."
Malum snorted. "What secret could Artemis possibly be hiding?"
"That's what I have asked myself for months," Heron replied with a sigh. He shook his head despondently and then shrugged. "All I know is that she is insanely protective of Harry."
"Which I think isn't too surprising," Malum pointed out. "Harry is her cousin by blood. Potter girls stick together."
"It's more than that," Heron answered back, tone sharp once more. "So, you see, I am getting a little bit annoyed with all these secrets being kept. I am bloody worried and I already have enough to worry about!"
Malum's expression softened a little. He exhaled sharply. "I know Ophelia is hiding something from me. I am worried about her, but I don't … feel like I have the right to confront her about it because I am a ruddy coward and haven't offered official courtship to her yet."
"Which makes you doubly an idiot," Heron smirked.
"Yes, I am aware," Malum huffed. He ran his hand through his hair. "I wouldn't even know what to send her!"
"Well, if I know Harry and her girls," Heron grinned, "I think they may already be up to something in that regard."
"I am doomed," Malum commented dryly as he grabbed his towel and went to go and take his shower.
###########################################################################
"I take it that you finished Dippet's essay?"
Ophelia had tried to keep the excitement out of her tone when she spotted Harry on the way back towards the Slytherin dungeons. The Rowle heiress had just returned from the Owlery; she was sending a letter to Rollo and the walk on the way helped to combat her worries and new supernatural crisis. It was almost as though there were forces who were fed up with Ophelia mulling her problems over in silence, because she soon crossed paths with her demi-immortal friend, who looked like she had a lot on her mind.
Harry had whirled around and grinned. "Yep! Hopefully Dippet doesn't mark it too harshly. I did try my best."
"I am sure you did," Ophelia smiled warmly, looping her arm with Harry's. "I think it was more to help you find a way to try and temper your volatile magic, though."
"I know, but I … still want to do my best. I haven't made life easy for Dippet or the staff, so I do kind of owe it to them to put effort into it," Harry pointed out with a small mirthless chuckle. She forced a smile onto her face, which made Ophelia frown a little. "So, you sent a letter?"
"Yes," Ophelia allowed Harry to change the subject. "To Rollo. I figured he owes me another letter. I have not badgered him for an update on his relationship with your guardian's brother yet so I thought it was time to do something about that."
Harry grinned. "Well, let me know. I have thought about asking Tosti and Mel about their relationship but I would rather get the details from the two people involved."
Ophelia laughed too. "Yes, gossipers are not the most reliable of sources."
"Understatement," Harry agreed dryly.
The Rowle heiress gave her friend's arm a small squeeze. "How has Atty been holding up since … Mr. Ogden passed away?" she inquired carefully.
"As well as she can be," Harry confessed readily. "I know she is putting up a brave face, but she just isn't as care-free as she used to be. Lorri has been helping her as best as she can, but Atty's heart is just going to take some time to heal."
"Which isn't surprising," Ophelia commented. Her frown deepened. "I still can't believe Felix had the nerve to say such horrible things to her directly after seeing her friend die."
"Yeah," Harry whispered. "I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised … I had my eyes open to who they are the moment I met them, but I …" she shrugged and shook her head.
"Just didn't expect them to be that callous to Atty and to Mr. Ogden," Ophelia finished, knowing exactly what Harry was going to say. The Mistress of Death nodded despondently. The Rowle heiress frowned. "I heard Dumbledore wanted to see you about something."
"Yes. It was … odd, to say the least," Harry scoffed and laughed shortly.
"In what way?" Ophelia could not resist inquiring.
"I thought I was in trouble with him because of … what happened with Mallory," Harry replied candidly. "But instead it felt more like a weird counselling session crossed over with an interrogation about something else entirely."
Ophelia had no idea how to answer that; she really didn't want to poke her nose where it wasn't wanted any more than she was already doing. Harry chuckled coolly. "I should have foreseen it, but I am not Loreley," she joked. Ophelia only smiled momentarily; Harry seemed to notice. "Shall we take a walk before bed?" she asked.
"Sure," Ophelia couldn't deny that she was in desperate need of fresh air.
The January evening air was cold and crisp; when the wind blew, it's cold was bitter and biting. Ophelia pulled her cloak closer around her, and was thankful indeed when Harry put a Warming Charm around her.
"Is everything all right?" Harry inquired once they were a good distance away from the castle.
The question took the Rowle heiress a little off-guard. She swallowed and forced another smile onto her face. "Everything is fine. Why?"
"Because Malum had a look on his face as though he had eaten something bad," Harry responded candidly. "You may not have noticed that he was practically waiting for you to faint, but I did. I also know that he is doing it with good reason; you have been sleeping poorly of late and you are not the same chatty Ophelia I know. Something is badly wrong."
Morgana, why does Harry always have to be so observant? Ophelia grumbled internally.
"Is it your family?" Harry wanted to know. "Are you worried about my friendship with Malum?"
Ophelia blanched at this. "Absolutely not!" she reassured immediately. "It isn't about my family either – well, my family is involved but not my Rowle family. It involves my Steward family, my own paranoia, something Loreley told me and … you."
It was now Harry's turn to look surprised. "Me?"
"Yes," Ophelia whispered. She closed her eyes, plucking up her courage. "I realise that it is none of my business but I just kept getting a funny feeling there was more to … you and your powers than just simply being Mistress of Death."
Harry didn't answer; Ophelia decided to continue before she chickened out. "My Steward family were the greatest folklorists of our world; they studied magical stories that even time forgot about. One of them I got to hear stories about ever since I was a child: the Travellers." Ophelia chuckled nervously. "I haven't looked at those books in years until the Yule holidays and when I started to get a crazy theory about why everything feels so weird about you. I felt like I was going bonkers the entire time! I was driving myself mad and Loreley somehow seemed to know. She mirror-called me to tell me that I needed to trust my instincts."
There was a moment of contemplative silence between the Rowle witch and the Mistress of Death. Ophelia continued. "I confronted her yesterday, hoping upon hope that she would say that she was tipsy and that she had no idea what I was on about but … that is not what happened. Anything but."
"She confirmed your suspicions," Harry stated with such surety it scared Ophelia for a millisecond.
"More than that," Ophelia scoffed quietly. "She told me that you're from 1997."
"Is that all she told you?" Harry asked quietly.
Ophelia's eyes widened. "Yes."
Harry nodded pensively. The Rowle heiress could see the gears whir in her friend's head behind her eyes and she was not going to lie – it scared the crap out of her.
"And you haven't told anyone else?" Ophelia could not believe the sad look in Harry's peridot eyes.
"No! Of course not!" Ophelia's eyes widened. "Wait … are … are you telling me … it's true?"
"Yes," Harry confirmed readily.
Ophelia felt like the wind had been knocked out of her stomach for a moment. The Rowle heiress detached herself from Harry's arm and had to take a seat on a nearby rock with her head in her hands. She felt every heartbeat echo in her ears, and she tried her best to keep her breathing in control.
"I am sorry, Lia."
This contrite, sad statement knocked Ophelia out of her shock quite quickly and her head shot up. Her gaze met Harry's. "For what? For not telling me?" Harry gave a sharp nod. Ophelia shook her head at her. "Harry, this is not exactly the kind of secret you just go around telling people! I am not angry at you. I … am just trying to get my head around the fact I am not mad."
Harry smirked mischievously. "We are all a little mad here."
"Touché," Ophelia laughed shortly. She composed herself. "I have to ask. Your friends … the war-"
"All true," Harry confirmed quickly. "It just didn't happen in this timeline. I had a different Dark Lord to fight."
Ophelia's eyes widened. "There was another one? After Grindelwald?" her heart started racing. Harry nodded. "Who?"
A dark look crossed the countenance of the Mistress of Death.
"No one dared to speak his name," Harry answered lowly. "For those of us who were brave enough, we knew him as Lord Voldemort."
Ophelia could not help it: she started snorting with laughter. Soon she started clutching her sides. "What … what … what kind of name is that?!" she managed to exclaim once she managed to gather her breath. "Lord Flee From Death! I mean, how did anyone take him seriously?"
"Maybe because he was deranged beyond belief," Harry informed with a conflicted tone. "His fear of death drove him to commit heinous acts and because he committed those acts, his mind started to erode. Anyone who stood up to him, ended up dead."
That sobered Ophelia up very quickly. Her eyes widened. "Your family stood against him, didn't they?"
Harry nodded but didn't say anything else. Frankly, she didn't need to – Ophelia had gotten more answers than she had wished to obtain. The Rowle heiress fumbled with her hands. "Thank you … for telling me."
"You're my family too," Harry stated simply.
Ophelia found her eyes water at hearing that. She quickly wiped them away before they could fall. "Just promise me one thing."
The Traveller cocked her head at her friend.
Ophelia smiled sadly. "If you Travel again, promise to come back. I don't think any one of us can countenance losing you forever."
Harry looked flabbergasted for a moment before a smile spread onto her countenance. "I am not going anywhere," she promised. "But if I do, I promise to come back."
"Good," Ophelia got to her feet and looped her arm with Harry's once more. "Shall we see if we can spot the kelpies before heading back?"
Harry smiled brightly. "Good idea!"
###########################################################################
Atty was relaxing in the Slytherin common room after a surprising day. She had gotten apologies from Caius and Arcturus and on top of that, she had managed to get a decent human grade for her Arithmancy work – an A, almost EE, apparently – and Atty had managed to sneak food from the kitchens without the elves noticing.
Most of the kids had already headed to their dorms; her only company were Tom, Altair, the Flint boy and his Greengrass friend, Oizys Avery, Eileen Prince and Octavian Rookwood. The crackling of the fireplace and the singing of Altair were the only audible sounds around the common room.
Well, it was like that until War marched into the common room, dragging an embarrassed and protesting Felix behind her, steam coming out of her ears. Antonia Grey, Bletchley, Pucey and several of War's friends, followed looking amused.
Tom raised an eyebrow at this picture. "War, what is going on?" he asked in his best Head Boy voice.
The walking fireball that was the Slytherin Prefect pointed at her very red mate, which made Atty bite into her cheek to stop herself from laughing. "Well, Riddle, I think you will agree with me when I say that this dipshit is going to apologise to Atty before I even contemplate going on a date with him!" she exploded.
While the young hatchlings started to laugh and Tom blinked in surprise, Altair grinned. "Finally plucked up the courage then, Mulciber?" he teased. "Pity it comes with a stipulation."
"Shut up," was Felix's only comment.
"Ooooo this should be interesting," Flint added with a smirk. "Is dating War worth putting your pride aside, Mulci?"
"You keep out of it as well, Flint!" Felix huffed.
"He won't do it," Greengrass stated with confidence.
"He had better! We have fifteen Galleons on the line," Antonia Grey informed him with a smirk.
Felix was redder than a Gryffindor's blazer at this point, which made Atty smirk a little.
"Well, Felix, my friend," Tom stated silkily, trying to keep the smirk of his face. "I say you had better get on with it, if you still want to stand a chance of winning War over."
The Mulciber boy scowled for a moment before turning hard and cold eyes onto Atty, who had her head cocked expectantly at him. The Gargouille noticed his jaw clench for a moment but relax quickly.
Yep, Felix Mulciber still needed to be taken down a notch.
"I … I am …" Felix growled to himself. He eventually forced himself to just spit it out. "I am sorry, OK? I am sorry."
"For what?" War demanded, arms folded and one foot tapping.
Felix looked like he was internally praying to the gods at this point. "For being an O-grade butthole and for being as sensitive as a plank."
That was clearly rehearsed!
Altair spluttered with laughter, as did the young hatchlings. Tom attempted to hide his amusement behind his hand, but wasn't really succeeding at it. Flint and Greengrass were also struggling to breathe due to laughter.
Atty took her time to consider his apology. The young dragon was not going to kid herself; that was as best as she was going to get from Felix Mulciber, but she was not just going to simply let him off the hook. Thus, Atty took some parchment from Tom and his quill, and dipped the elegant feather in some ink.
I FORGIVE YOU
Felix looked slightly relieved.
ON ONE CONDITION
That was relief was promptly gone.
The young Knight tried not to gulp. "What condition?" he dared to ask.
Atty smirked. She turned her attention onto the big Ancient Greek dictionary that Altair was going through while doing some translation work for himself. The witches and wizards watched in awe as those onyx eyes turned a bright green – almost as bright as the Killing Curse – and Atty spread her wings, her body outlined with that same bright green aura.
The dictionary floated into the air, and then promptly began to whack Felix Mulciber on any part of the body Atty thought of hitting – from his backside to his head. The boy tried to dodge the dictionary's strikes as best as he could. The witnesses were either gaping in disbelief – Tom, Altair, War, Antonia and War's dorm – or laughing their heads off, as in the cases of the first years, Flint, Greengrass, Pucey and Bletchley.
"OWWW! – Merlin, I said that I am sorry – OWWWW! For fuck's sake!" Felix complained loudly as he batted the book away with his right arm.
"You were right, Avery, Atty's powers rule!" young Rookwood exclaimed as Flint, Greengrass, Pucey and Bletchley laughed only harder.
"I did say so," Oizys stated primly. "Not my problem that you didn't take my word for it."
"Nymera would love to see this!" Eileen giggled.
Tom allowed Atty to have a few more whacks in before he gave her a pointed look. "I think that is enough, Athenaïs. You have made your point."
Atty gave him a faux-angelic look as she got one last cheeky hit in and then broke her hold over the dictionary. Altair rushed to catch his dictionary before it could hit the floor.
"Well, that was unexpected," War stated dryly. "But then again nothing is ever fucking normal around Hera Evans so we shouldn't even be surprised at this stage!" She then turned in the direction of Felix and smiled serenely. "I look forward to our breakfast date, Mulciber!" she stated as she happily headed towards her dorm, Antonia and the other girls after her.
Felix was still in a state of shellshock, so he didn't reply. Flint and Greengrass, once they had recovered, did help him to his dorm where he could nurse his bruised ego in the company of Malum and Heron.
Meanwhile, Tom and Altair were still regarding Atty as though they were looking at a complete stranger. The young dragon was back to relaxing on the sofa, not caring about the strange looks she was receiving.
It was safe to say that when Harry and Ophelia returned to the Slytherin dungeons not too long afterwards that the young hatchlings had a very interesting story to tell!
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So Atty got a bit of payback on Felix, Harry has chosen to take Ophelia in her confidence and our young Cursebreaker has now more than one project to deal with at a time! What is going on with Tom and Altair, and how will it progress? Stay tuned to find out!
Orion: Hehehehehehehehe Felix got his butt handed to him by Atty!
Tom: Never mess with a dragon, even one without a breath weapon.
Harry: As Gellert and his bruised ego discovered when he tried to steal a cookie from Atty's cookie hoard.
Gellert: *incoherent upset Dark Lord noises*
Queenie: Oh dear …
Gellert: IT WAS JUST ONE!
Tom: 'Oh dear' is correct.
We will see you in the next chapter!
Kingmaker'sUmbreon
