CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
"RolloRolloRolloRolloRollo, you are not going to believe this! They answered! They have actually answered!"
"Horner's people have finally taken their heads out of their arses – typhus kutzooi, who put that there?! Bloody health hazard!"
The Head Cursebreaker was having a relatively quiet and relaxing-as-it-can-be Monday morning after a weekend of stressing about Albus Dumbledore sticking his meddling half-moon spectacled nose into Gringotts business on behalf of the Resistance – no doubt – and what the Lady Hera was forced to face during her new test from the Dark Lord. The sound of Oscar almost breaking his legs and his neck over something in the hallway very quickly disturbed the fragile peace. Rollo braced himself as he heard the enthusiastic hollering of Katerina and Oscar drawing closer to his office.
Seconds later, the door crashed open and in raced two of his best Cursebreakers as though they were children hurrying downstairs to open Yule presents, Katerina clutching a letter as though it were a ticket to a Caribbean island. They skidded to a halt in front of his desk and Katerina held out the letter to him, beaming from ear to ear and positively vibrating with anticipation.
"Have you taken one too many Pepper-Up Potions again?" Rollo questioned with a raised eyebrow as he took the letter, shaking his head at the pair of them.
"No, I only had three cups of coffee, some fizzy sweets and a Muggle drink called Cola," Katerina answered brightly.
"She pulled over hours on her occult kit," Oscar clarified, with a slightly concerned expression on his face.
"Oh boy," Rollo could not help but comment as he broke the seal on the back and unfolded the letter.
There was an unspoken rule amongst the Cursebreakers: do not allow Katerina under any circumstance to have caffeine and sugar above a specific limit because then one would be stuck with an unguided missile for the rest of the day. The goblins once made the mistake of making Blessed Yule packages for all their employees with a lot of sweets in it; Katerina had not consumed one fifth of the package before she was bouncing all over the place and simply could not concentrate on a single thing she was doing.
"Hey! It is finished now! I don't see the problem!" Katerina protested, pouting a little.
"You tried to put milk into Satoshi's tea just now," was Oscar's very simply answer.
Rollo winced at that and then turned his attention to the letter, trying to ignore his friends for a moment.
Dear Heir Rowle,
Apologies for the lack of updates and general communication between my people and yours, but I assure you it was done for good reasons. We have been busy executing our plan, which involved confidential negotiations that could not risk being leaked. On this delicate matter, we have good news and bad news.
The good news is, a fair few of our negotiations have gone successfully. We have recently received confirmation that five of your people will be back in England by Wednesday evening. I am aware that still leaves at least five others still stranded, and this is where the bad news comes in I am afraid. In the cases of those Cursebreakers, we have either heard nothing regarding our offers that we made, or communication has broken down completely. Minister Spencer-Moon has had to put some of his aides on this case; we are hoping they have more luck than we have been having.
If you wish to discuss this matter further over Fire-Call, I am free this evening. I hope this letter does not create further inconveniences and distress.
Yours sincerely,
David Horner,
Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation
"Oh bloody hell," was the first thing that came out of Rollo's mouth after he read Horner's latest correspondence.
Katerina and Oscar's faces dropped a little.
"Please don't tell me the incompetent buffoon has failed again," Oscar sighed in irritation.
"No, not completely," Rollo answered as he handed his colleague the letter. "Five of our people will be back in the country by Wednesday, but the other half are still stuck due to their 'hosts' being difficult, or negotiations breaking down."
Katerina read quickly over Oscar's shoulders, her eyes widening.
"Morgana's woodland hovel, international relations; that is the Department of International Magical Cooperation's whole bloody thing! Now they have to get the Minister's aides involved? Are they genuinely that crap at executing the function the department was set up to do?" she complained.
"I don't think it is entirely their fault," Rollo reasoned, hands combing through his hair as he leant back against the back of his chair. "Things are a little testy between Britain and the other dominions."
Oscar scoffed. "That is putting it mildly!"
"So, are we giving Horner and his people yet another chance to get the rest of our people back, or are we just going to take matters into our own hands now?" Katerina wanted to know, frowning. "Because if we are going to try and vex already pissy countries I want to be sure King Ragnok is supportive of our decision in case things go belly-up."
"Yes, I think that is a good idea," Rollo agreed readily. "I will give it some more thought and let you know as soon as possible what our next course of action is going to be."
Katerina and Oscar both gave curt nods in affirmation before they turned on their heels and left to inform their rest of the colleagues of the new update from Horner and his department. Rollo took a moment to process the little headway the Ministry had achieved in getting his people back.
About a minute or two later, there was a knock at the door. One that was polite and tentative. Rollo and his guards frowned – none of the Cursebreakers or goblins knocked like that at all. The Head Cursebreaker got up and went to open his door, wondering who in the name of Merlin it could be. When he opened the door – no one was there.
Rollo blinked in surprise. "Hello?" he called out. "Kat, this isn't funny."
"I am not Kat and I am standing right in front of you," answered Meg, who quickly dispelled the Disillusionment Spell that she had cast on herself.
Rollo's eyes widened and quickly he pulled the Hit Witch into his office and closed the door before anyone could risk catching a glimpse of her. The guards blinked in surprise around two times before a steely look set in their eyes.
"Meg, what the hell are you doing here?" Rollo demanded after he put Silencing Charms on his door. "You should not be wandering the bank without your guards."
Meg rolled her eyes. "We have no intention of escaping, nor are we children. Your guards needed a break, and we were busy with our next assignments. However, Lorcan, Victor and I were in agreement that there was something that you need to be told about some of Grindelwald's favourite tricks and the other prisoners he is keeping at Nurmengard."
"You already gave us a full detailed layout," Rollo reminded her, frowning and folding her arms.
"Yes, of the dungeons and lower level prison rooms," Meg agreed. "I am talking about the high profile prisoners. We also didn't tell you about Mr. Weird Eyes' artefact and trophy room, which I am guessing is what he will be using against the Peverell girl."
Rollo's interest was piqued immediately. "Go on," he encouraged.
"Grindelwald loves his collections, as you know, but most of the truly valuable ones are kept in different countries, which is why there are a lot of raids by the Resistance to find and capture them," Meg explained as she began pacing a little. "But the ones that are home to spirits and creatures trapped within, the ones who were responsible for the death of their owners or have some other potent offensive magical quality, they are all kept in that trophy room of his." She chuckled. "There was a silver lining to Ambrose and Bradley being captured – we got to see it for ourselves. We didn't have much time to study the things, though."
Rollo nodded despondently. "So just about anything could have been sent to her," he muttered to himself.
Meg's eyes widened at hearing that but she could see from the Head Cursebreaker's expression that it was not a good idea to press him on the subject right now, so she decided to switch the subject. "Grindelwald keeps high ranking agents, informants and potential turn coats in the rooms of the castle itself. From what I hear, he is also keeping a former Resistance member and friend of Credence Barebone locked up there too. A Maledictus by the name of Nagini."
Rollo could not hide his surprise. "He is keeping a Maledictus … hostage?"
"Apparently Barebone is very fickle," Meg smirked. "You hit the right spots and push the right buttons, you could get him to defect. Grindelwald lied to him twice and the bloody idiot still did not see through it despite knowing what the man was like! Nagini was able to talk sense into him while she was still human. Let's just say, Grindelwald does not want to take any chances that she still can even as a giant serpent."
"Right," Rollo replied quietly.
The Hit Witch regarded him for a moment and cocked her head slightly. "Are you all right? You look exhausted."
"Mentally, absolutely," Rollo confirmed readily. "Living a double life, having political nonsense and trying to keep all of my Cursebreakers alive is not exactly a walk in the bloody park! Then of course I have my own family to deal with."
"They're giving you grief?" Meg guessed.
"No, more like a headache with their barely attainable standards," Rollo snorted. "I do what is asked of me by my aunt and uncle, but my own parents decide it isn't enough until I have a wife and heir of my own. Despite the fact the people whose title I am going to inherit are making zero fuss."
Meg blinked. "I thought that your aunt and uncle have a daughter," she stated.
"Ophelia is a girl, so she can't inherit the title," the double agent scoffed, shaking his head. "Antiquated ideas run rife in pureblood families here in England."
"So I gather," Meg replied quietly. She smiled apologetically. "I would not know myself. I have no family; I was taken from an orphanage by Wisp when I was three and was sent to Durmstrang, along with most of us who he took in." She chuckled. "I suppose I have been trained to battle Grindelwald from a young age, much like the Operation Sparta lot."
Rollo frowned at this point. "Operation Sparta?" he repeated. "What is that?"
"A rumour," Meg replied simply, looking conflicted. "Black Ops ghosts. People whose existence the Resistance deny vehemently to the point they will gaslight their own people. We have questioned our sanity a lot when it comes to the subject. The only evidence we have of them is from captured Alliance people who confessed to surviving an attack from them. Naturally we get told, 'do not trust what the enemy says'. However," Meg's expression darkened, "I have always suspected the Resistance could pull something like this."
The Head Cursebreaker's eyes widened at hearing this. The Lady Hera was a child soldier … could she be … surely not?
"But yeah, on the subject of families – I would not know how families work," Meg added with an uncomfortable chuckle, deciding it was best to put the train of thought back on its tracks. "I have always wanted to have one though. To be able to settle in one place without constantly to have to move around. It's why I can't wait for this accursed war to be over and done with. I have already promised myself I would retire."
"And do what?" Rollo, who was grateful for the distraction, wanted to know. "And where would you want to live? Most of Europe has been decimated and everyone would be trying to heal from the traumatic events."
"I was thinking of maybe coming back to my birth country, or heading to Scandinavia," Meg shrugged. "I don't know what I would want to do. I have no desire to become an Auror and I doubt Gringotts would want to employ someone with my background." She scoffed to herself. "I guess I will just have to see if I survive first."
Meg had taken to studying the floor, so she didn't see the look of sympathy that Rollo was giving her.
There was a moment of silence in the room until the Hit Witch looked up again. "Do you intend to comply with your parents' wishes, despite being in a committed relationship?"
Rollo's expression darkened. "I have little choice in the matter. My family is a Noble one and have a seat in the Wizengamot. We are thus held to a different standard than the average wizarding family, pureblood or not. Certain expectations must be met – one of them is having a wife and … providing heirs for the family."
Meg frowned. "But why not simply blood adopt, like some other homosexual couples do?" she inquired, flushing red at the possibly stupid question. "I heard the Shelbys have two children via the process."
Rollo smiled sadly. "Not good enough for my parents, I'm afraid," he answered with a tone full of snark. "As for my aunt and uncle, they would also prefer a biological child as future heir, but they do not rule it out completely."
"Then why do your parents still have so much sway if it isn't even their title?" Meg was utterly flummoxed.
"Because as parents to the Heir of their House, they have a lot of say, according to the our House's Blood Rules," Rollo replied grimly.
"Blood Rules?" Meg repeated.
"They are basically the ground laws of a family – rules and regulations of how a family is composed. It explains hierarchy, inheritance, and in cases, the kind of profession members are permitted to take," Rollo explained with an exhausted sigh. "Antiquated family laws that were founded in the Middle Ages. A few of them go back to the Dark Ages; Black, White and Nott are amongst them. My ancestors came to England during the vikings in the 800s but we didn't fully lose our customs."
"Let me guess: one of those is that a Lord or Lady's first born child is not the immediate heir to the title?" Meg smiled smally.
"Indeed, especially if the child is a girl," Rollo confirmed.
"So," Meg quietly questioned if she should ask the next question that was bugging her mind, "have you … got someone in mind who could … fit the bill?"
"As a future Lady Rowle? None," Rollo laughed shortly. "Most of the eligible candidates are people I have known since childhood, and I am not really too keen on. Mostly because they are too ladylike. Plus, the good options are all rebelling against the confines of marriage. I also have a condition a woman likely would have issues with: my relationship with Henry is non-negotiable."
Meg clicked her tongue and nodded in agreement. "Yes, I can see why most women would find another in the marriage a difficult pill to swallow. It usually isn't the done thing, especially with it being so public." She frowned for a moment and then lit up. "How about this Kat person? You seem to know her pretty well."
Rollo laughed properly this time. "Kat would rather bury herself in a tomb with five mummies than to marry a Noble, even if it is me! She and her family had more than enough of Nobles for the rest of their lifetimes."
Meg raised an eyebrow in surprise at this. He had no idea why, but Rollo felt he could divulge one of the more sensitive matters of Katerina's past to Meg. "Kat's family used to be courtiers to prince who had declared himself as Tsar in the beginning of this century. They lost a fair few of their members to the war with the Ottomans in 1911 and then in the First Balkan War, which was when surviving members fled to England, just before the Great War. Kat's mother and grandmother disobeyed orders from the Ministry and worked as army nurses for those four-five hellish years. Kat barely saw them during that time."
"Wow. Could not have been easy for a child," Meg commented.
"No," Rollo agreed.
Meg pondered quietly for a moment before chuckling nervously. "Thank you for your time, Rollo, I will not keep you any longer. I do still have some work of my own to be getting on with."
Rollo smiled kindly. "Of course. Tell Ghost and Goliath I said hello."
Meg grinned and put the Disillusionment Charm back on herself before slipping out of the office. Rollo closed the door behind her and tried to focus on getting some work done.
########################################################################
Griphook had hoped that he would be able to spend his lunch break reading a book or taking a nap. He had interrupted sleep for the last couple of nights due to pesky air raid sirens and fretting about what manner of artefact they had sent to the Lady Hera – those thoughts were hanging around in his head like a bad smell – and wanted to get some extra sleep before he started throwing calculators at his fellow goblins because their sneezes bothered him.
Fortunately, no one bothered him for fifteen minutes while he had his lunch and read. Unfortunately, it was when Griphook was getting to the bit where the goblin had finally managed to catch the fairy dragon he had been chasing, only to discover he had crossed into the territory of some humans when there was a knock on his door.
Disgruntled, the goblin looked up. "Who is it?" he demanded.
This had better be good, he added to himself grumpily.
"Griphook!" Rosberg called from the other side of the door. "Rava has been in touch. There has been a development regarding … that business we discussed during the Yule holidays."
Griphook caught on immediately; it seems that Regina Avery's visit to Diantha Underwood's residence had come with some goods! Hopefully. Curious to know what Rava had to say, Griphook forced himself out of his comfy chair and put his nap on hold for now.
Rosberg was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet when Griphook opened the door. The former smirked a little. "Well, then. Let's go and see what Rava has found," Griphook stated.
"She sounded excited but exhausted when she called me," Rosberg informed as the two of them set off towards the bank's sequestered hospital wing. "Perhaps also a little frazzled."
"I would be too if I were in charge of trying to find a cure for something that is not studied, thus without a known antidote or way to combat it," Griphook pointed out easily. "That we may have the curse's recipe is already something that we can work with!"
"For the courts, yes," Rosberg agreed with a slight sneer. "A definitive answer is what we need to be able to help Mistress Nymera."
"True," Griphook could not disagree with that statement at all. "Let us hope that is what Rava has for us. Did you contact Lord and Lady Lestrange?"
"Not yet. I want to see what Rava has to say before I put their hearts under more strain," Rosberg answered.
Griphook clicked his tongue. "Prudent."
When the two Accountants arrived at the hospital wing, they found Rava's Healers bustling two and fro with vials of something that both Rosberg and Griphook could not discern from the good distance they were in. Other Healers were looking at strange diagrams and simulations, making notes as though their life depended upon it. Rava herself was going through charts while pacing up and down.
She only looked up once she heard the door open and upon seeing Rosberg and Griphook, hurried over.
"Gentlemen, you are not going to believe this!" the Head Healer launched into her findings immediately. "We tested three recipes all for chocolate cake that Madam Avery brought amongst the recipes she managed to copy down with a sample of the counterfeit Blood Curse we managed to extract from Mistress Nymera. As it turns out, for whatever reason, the Curse refused to tie together with the cake and especially hated the rising process of the cakes."
Rava took a deep breath at this point, breath quivering. "We were in despair but then Xera had an epiphany and decided to try and see if the Curse would bind to the icing of the chocolate cakes instead-"
"Out with it, Rava!" Rosberg demanded impatiently.
"We have found the recipe," Rava stated, pushing the charts she was looking at into the hands of the Accountant of the Lestrange Vaults. "According to Mistress Underwood's very thorough note-taking, the counterfeit Blood Curse is composed of an amplified Deterioration Hex, a severe Weakening Hex and a curse designed to mimic the symptoms of Blood malediction. We are currently occupied with studying how this thing behaves in order to be able to untangle it completely – or as much as we are able – from Mistress Nymera."
Rosberg was suitably pale at hearing this; Griphook could not believe his ears either. Three powerful Dark magic charms had been put on the child … it was a wonder that she was still alive after all these years!
"So," Rava exhaled sharply, letting go of some stress that she had clearly been keeping bottled up. "There you have it. We have gotten some answers, but not an antidote just yet."
"I still think that is more than sufficient to inform His Lordship," Griphook stated and he regarded his colleague for a moment. "Don't you agree, Rosberg?"
"Indeed," Rosberg cleared his throat. "Indeed. I will … go and inform him at once."
As the goblin turned around woodenly and headed out of the door, Griphook and Rava exchanged knowing looks.
"He is going to be drinking tonight," Rava predicted sagely.
"Most likely," Griphook agreed wryly. "Not that I blame him. I may join him in the tavern myself."
"Well, let us hope not! You two need to keep your heads clear now more than ever!" Rava admonished crisply, sounding as motherly as ever. "His Grace needs his Council members sober, as you fully well know."
"Yes, I know," Griphook grumbled. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."
Rava's expression softened. She did realise why Griphook was on edge; the King was not very good at hiding his anxiety either, nor was Rollo Rowle. Rava had no idea how or why, all she was certain of was that the Lady Peverell was involved.
"She will be fine, Griphook," Rava reassured quietly.
A sad look came into the eyes of the Peverell Accountant. "Let us hope you're right, Rava. Let us hope you're right."
###########################################################################
Armando Dippet must have broken his own record for pacing around his office, pondering upon the dilemma that had bothered him the entire weekend: the matter of Patrick Ogden's successor. As he had expected, all four of his Heads of House had their opinions on who should be picked. Kara favoured the experienced Herbologist and Magizoologist, Gerald Alsop, with Aneurin in full agreement. Horace wanted one of his old favourites, Isla Mathers, to be taken on, and of course, Albus still wanted the child whose monster obsession very nearly shut the school down to be given the job to take care of its grounds. The Governors too had their preferences from amongst the candidates, and none of them included Rubeus Hagrid.
The irony was not lost on the Headmaster, but given the trauma – and the vehement opposing opinions from the Heads of Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin – Armando could not find it in himself to agree to allow Rubeus Hagrid back onto the grounds willy-nilly. The advice Harry Evans had given him, also played a part in the Headmaster's qualms.
She was right: the Acromantula had killed Myrtle Warren. Hagrid had been foolish, but that foolishness had cost a family their daughter. Should the child be welcomed back, it would be under someone's supervision. The issue was, Armando could not decide who just yet. Both Alsop and Mathers were ideal candidates, especially since they were still rather young.
"There are more efficient ways to try and lose weight, Armando," Phineas Nigellus teased from his frame.
"Be quiet, Phineas," Headmaster Everard sighed.
"As if you are not tired of watching him making the same Merlin-be-damned rounds!" the Black Headmaster retorted.
"I am," Elizabeth Burke agreed.
"No one asked you," several of the portraits piped up immediately.
Armando sighed in irritation. "None of you are being much help at present, so I suggest you all pipe down. Merlin's sainted father Balinor, you are worse than some of the students!"
Dilys Derwent cocked her head slightly at him. "May I inquire what precisely is polluting your decision, Armando?" she asked in that gentile tone that many of her students had adored her for.
"Rubeus Hagrid," Armando answered simply.
Elizabeth Burke pulled a disgusted face. "Oh please do not tell me you are taking that meddling old codger Dumbledore's words to heart, Armando? I thought you had more sense than that!"
Armando scowled up at Elizabeth's portrait. "I do," he answered tartly. "However, Miss Evans also has a point that the boy was foolish, and that he had to learn the hard way the price of messing with monsters. I also agree that Hagrid needs to be given a focus and not completely forgotten. However, I am … reluctant to take him on immediately as the groundskeeper – not without proper guidance and training."
"Sounds rational to me," Giffard Abbott commented.
Brian Gagwilde looked up from the chess game in front of him for the first time in a long while. "Might I make a suggestion?"
Armando halted immediately; it was rare indeed for Headmaster Gagwilde to pay anything much mind, especially when chess and other strategy games were involved. The portrait mirrored the never ceasing tactical mind of the Headmaster perfectly, so Armando knew to pay attention.
"Of course, Brian. What is it?" Armando inquired.
"Why not wait for Patrick's lawyers to read his last will and testament? Perhaps Patrick has left you some advice on the matter. After all, if the chap knew anything well, it is how best Hogwarts' grounds need to be taken care of," Headmaster Gagwilde pointed out. "Moreover, I do not think Patrick would have left this world for the next one if he didn't leave anything behind at all. Especially since he likely knew how much stress it could cause you."
Armando considered the portrait's words carefully before smiling wryly. "No, I don't imagine he would," he agreed quietly. "The lawyers wish to speak with me tomorrow, so that is fortuitous indeed."
"Ah, so we get to see if Ogden had half a Slytherin mind sooner rather than later!" Elizabeth sneered. "Splendid."
"Be quiet, Bess!" most of the portraits grumbled again while Armando began nursing a headache.
Perhaps it was best to get an early night.
###########################################################################
Tom and Altair had no idea how Harry had done it for the past months with her training regimens with her divine guardians, but by Monday evening they had not only more respect for their future Consort and her ability to juggle everything, they also found that they had been consuming more coffee than they normally did.
Sunday evening they all had extra Legilimency and Occlumency lessons, with Harry teaching a few extra psionic techniques that she had picked up from the essay she had written for Dippet. Monday morning, bright and early, Harry and Atty had tested and trained their fledgling Soul Magick as well as Tom's Shadow control. Though he was able to make a decent Soul Fire ball – with Harry's arctic fox spirit – Tom still struggled to handle the Shadows, especially when his mood spiked. Harry was quietly thankful that her Magick had helped to give Tom and Altair more control in some areas of their powers, according to what Tosti told her anyway. She had looked quite guilty, though, at being unable to help Altair with his sleep and dream based powers, but Altair quickly reassured her that it was OK. She did make up for it with another duel, though; one that Altair won that time.
That evening, Harry was hosting another lesson on Old Magic, along with Tom's duelling class. Everyone was keen to show how much progress they had made with their Summoning Spells and to see what kind of spells they would be taught next. Tom and Altair were pleased that their practise had paid off; their objects responded to them without hesitation. Artemis was rather smug that her bag also responded swiftly. Tom's Knights all achieved varying results, with Malum's object being the slowest, much to the Avery's heirs embarrassment.
"Bloody hell," he grumbled, shaking his head at his bag.
Harry, who had been watching Walburga, Druella and Ophelia's progress up until that point, smiled reassuringly. "You almost have it, though, Malum! I will help you with the last steps a little later. Atty also told me about your little experiment, Caius – for now, though, we move onto a basic telekinetic spell. There are many, all with different meanings and address objects directly, but this one can be used generally."
She turned her attention onto the objects on the floor. "Fleoge!"
One flash of silver later, the bags and weapons picked themselves up off the floor and hung in the air under the influence of the telekinetic spell. Harry then broke her concentration, allowing the objects to fall back limply to the ground. She turned brightly to her friends. "Use your magic to pick up the object. Wingardium Leviosa does the same, but is not as powerful as this one because with Fleoge, you can control the levitated object much better. Remember, visualisation and the bond between you and your Core are the most important elements to the practise of Old Magic. So – begin!"
The Room soon echoed with choruses of "Fleoge!"
Tom smiled with satisfaction as his daggers jumped into the air. Orion clapped happily when his bag responded to his magic easily as well, but the Black Heir lost concentration due to his enthusiasm so the bag crashed down quite quickly. Orion pouted; Athenaïs went to help him out and give some advice. Harry's girls also had no issues, especially Loreley. Minerva too succeeded on her first try. Tom was pleased to see his Knights doing well, but did note that Caius and Heron's objects had responded the quickest.
Altair, however, struggled to get a few of his daggers to listen to him. Three were more than happy to obey; two of them weren't. They remained stubbornly on the floor and refused to budge, despite Altair repeating the spell. Atty had noticed the daggers' disobedience and, after Orion had managed to keep his bag in the air for a good minute, padded over to help Altair.
The Gargouille frowned thoughtfully and then howled mystically. By now, Altair had developed the ability to translate what she was saying. "Perhaps you need some extra motivation? Like a target?" she suggested.
"I need extra motivation?" Altair repeated with a frown.
Atty nodded.
"Story of your life, eh, Nott?" Felix could not help but tease; Caius was definitely biting his tongue.
Altair scowled. "Shut up, Mulci."
"What? It is true," Felix smirked, a knowing glint appearing in his eye. Both Tom and Harry regarded him coldly. "You needed extra motivation to study until now, you needed extra motivation to admit that you have feelings for Harry, you needed some extra motivation to ask your own Lady to dance – Alphard Black didn't need that-"
"Felix, ENOUGH!" Harry snapped.
"You're not helping!" Ophelia added at the same time.
It was at this point that Tom could feel the anger radiating from Altair's magic. The purple sheen was back in Altair's usually warm eyes, practically neon. Everyone gulped as the two daggers that had been reluctant to obey suddenly jumped up into the air to join their brethren and with a furious, jealous cry, the daggers flew directly towards Felix.
Eyes wide, Felix just about managed to dive out of the way, two of the daggers narrowly missing his cheek and arm. The daggers continued in their path, and impaled themselves into one of the wooden dummies on the far end of the arena.
There was a moment of stunned silence.
"Damn," Artemis commented quietly. "That was a close one. Mulci, you idiot!"
Felix looked suitably sheepish as he picked himself off the floor. "It seems jealousy is a suitable motivator," he managed to reply.
"Yes, do you know why?" Harry demanded coldly. "Potent emotions fuel magic. I advise all of you not to taunt each other like this again."
Altair, still vibrating a little with left over rage and jealousy, went to take a moment for himself and took a seat on a nearby bench provided by the Room, trying to calm his breathing. "I am such a fucking idiot," he grumbled to himself. "Why did I do that?"
"Because your intent at that moment guided your magic's actions," came the gentle answer from Harry, who sat on his left. Tom took the spot on his right. Altair sighed with relief as Harry took his left hand in her right. "You wanted to pay Felix back for what he said, and instinctively used your magic to do it."
"It was stupid," Altair answered angrily, "but I just couldn't help it!"
"Because of what Felix said about Alphard Black asking me to dance at the Yule Ball?" Harry guessed quite quickly, giving her lover's hand a reassuring squeeze. Altair gave a curt nod in affirmation. "Alphard Black is Wally's brother and friend, Altair. He will never be anything more than that."
"I know," Altair answered with gritted teeth. He cleared his throat. "It's just … irrational. I know it is, but I can't help it. Alphard Black exudes power and confidence, and I … don't. I may be Heir Nott but as you have seen yourself, I have to work for every ounce of respect I get! And seeing you with him … you look like a power couple-"
Altair was silenced by a reassuring and soul-searching kiss from Harry, who when she broke the kiss, rested her forehead against his. "I love you," she told him with a warm smile. "No amount of Black power and confidence is going to change that. As for the respect you deserve, it will come and if people are too stupid to realise your potential, let them make the mistake of underestimating you. It will make proving them wrong all the more fun."
"Agreed," Tom concurred readily as made Altair look at him and kissed him fiercely before getting up and moving over to Harry to do the same with her lips.
It was at this point that the triad got ball telekinetically launched at them. The ball transformed back into a quill the moment it landed, Tom, Harry and Altair blinking at it in shock.
"Artemis, shame on you!" they heard Minerva scold.
Artemis paid her friend no mind. "OI! Love birds! You can make-out later. We still have a full duelling lesson to get through."
"Coming!" Harry, Tom and Altair called.
Harry huffed with amusement. "I am almost regretting this decision!"
Tom and Altair smirked as the three of them stood up and walked back to join their friends. Harry clapped her hands together once. "Right! Since Artemis is so keen about transforming things into balls, let us focus next on telekinetically throwing objects at the dummies. If I see any one of you throwing your objects at a human target or Atty, I will make you regret that decision."
A few of the Knights had the decency to gulp. Orion, Druella, Artemis and Loreley smirked however.
"Kinky!" they chorused teasingly, causing the boys to flush bright red while the girls laughed cheerily. Minerva did a facepalm.
Harry and Atty rolled their eyes but were trying to contain their amusement.
"OK, everyone, focus!" Harry commanded, causing her friends to sober up quite quickly. "Pick an object, cast the spell and put as much intent into your magic as you can – yes, we are trying nonverbal Old Magic, but I have a feeling all of you will be just fine."
The group split up to pick out a target from amongst the dummies in the Room. Harry began making a round around the room as she watched her friends levitate books, daggers and transfigured quills, and then attempt to throw them at their targets. Altair had retrieved his daggers and this time, had thrown two into a counterfeit Dark wizard, hitting him in the abdomen and chest.
Both Tom and Harry smirked proudly at this. The former had been equally as pleased when his textbooks flew through the air in the same manner of a discus and once they struck the dummy once – quite hard – flew back to their wizard and levitated by him, awaiting for more orders.
Minerva, Ygraine, Arcturus and Abraxas did struggle a bit; their objects did not find their mark all that many times. As Harry and Atty did a demonstration for them, the Mistress of Death and her Familiar working in perfect sync, Tom quietly chuckled to himself.
At this rate, we will have mastered basic Old Magic by the time our exams arrive, the last Gaunt commented to himself. He sobered quickly with the next thought. We will have on over on Grindelwald and his men; let them try and take Harry from us! They will have no idea what hit them!
###########################################################################
Artemis was never one to believe in omens, despite being friends with Loreley Malfoy. Perhaps it was because of Charlus and Dorea; those two were normally as no-nonsense as one could get, and it had rubbed off quite a bit on their niece. However, Tuesday morning, for the first time in her life, as Artemis went to send a letter to her deputy parents and to Hecuba about Electra's supposedly important story, she could not help but feel a sense of foreboding. The fact it was raining quite stiffly and the wind was howling almost in anger did not help matters.
Artemis pulled her cloak closer to herself and was mentally berating herself for not dressing a little bit more warmly for this trip. The Owlery was as bitter cold as ever, which made her teeth chatter. Artemis winced once or twice as she accidentally stood on the skeletons of regurgitated skeletons of mice and voles and approached three Hogwarts owls who looked extremely eager. They had been eyeing her letters like they were the next meal.
The Potter heiress was not about to disappoint the birds, so she tied each letter to the grey owl and the barn owl. The tawney looked a little bit put out at not having one, but Artemis apologised with some good old pats, which the owl appreciated.
However, the sinking and nagging feeling that Artemis had experienced all morning did not leave her as she left the Owlery; in fact, it had only increased. The fact that Electra was working way more than usual – if that was even possible – and the fact that Uncle Fleamont was actually supporting regulations on Family Magic was deeply concerning to Artemis.
Family Magic was something innate – it couldn't be regulated. Why was her uncle too daft to see that? Did Euphemia put the idea into his head?
Artemis was lost in her frustration for her closed minded family all the way back to Gryffindor Tower. It was because of this that she almost did not notice the person who was leaning against the wall, next to the slightly woozy Fat Lady. The Potter heiress almost stopped in her tracks when she did.
"Heron."
Her lover raised his head, his determined gaze locking onto her immediately. "Good morning, Artemis," he greeted formally, which made her frown. "I was informed by your Tower's portrait that you had gone out, and I thought I might wait for you."
"Why?" Artemis could not resist asking, her frowning deepening. "I mean, I am flattered but you really did not need to."
"Yes, I did," Heron contradicted easily. He swallowed a little. "We need to talk."
A sudden jolt of fear struck Artemis right in heart due his rather tense tone. Did he … did he want to end their courtship?
"About what?" Artemis managed to ask, forcing her tone to remain as steady as possible.
Heron must have seen the fear in her eyes and voice because his expression softened quite a bit, but not so much that he lost that determined glint in his eye. "About what you have been hiding from me," Heron responded.
Fear was quickly replaced by relief and then realisation and determination. She suddenly knew what this was about. Her suspicions regarding Harry being the Mistress of Death. Artemis regarded her lover for a moment. "I have no secrets to tell," she answered as casually as she could.
"Oh I very much doubt that," Heron pushed off from the wall and stalked towards her, an unreadable expression on his countenance. "You have been hiding something for quite a while; I know all your tells by now."
Artemis clenched her jaw and said nothing as her lover closed the distance between them, deciding to also fortify her Occlumency shields just in case. Heron's intense gaze drilled into hers. "Arty, you can tell me what it is. You know all of my important secrets … you can tell me. I can keep secrets, as you fully well know."
Imperius gold eyes studied Heron for a moment, guilt churning in Artemis' stomach. But Artemis held firm. "It is not for me to tell."
"Damn it, Artemis!" Heron cried out in frustration, making Artemis jump a little. "What do I need to do in order to prove to you that I will never tell another living soul unless you want me to?"
"Bloody hell, Heron, you think I want to keep something from you?" Artemis snarled back. "It is not for me to tell because it is not my secret!"
"Whose is it?" Heron demanded immediately.
"Harry's," Artemis decided she could safely divulge.
This made Heron blink twice, gape a little and take one or two steps back. For a moment, the Lestrange Heir was speechless. "Did … she … did she consummate her bond with Tom and Nott?" he lowered his tone at this point.
Artemis blinked in surprise before snorting with laughter. "You're kidding me right? Those three are made of sterner stuff than the most of us – no! Absolutely not!"
Heron breathed a sigh of relief. He then frowned. "Then what secret has she told you?"
Artemis shook her head. "If you really want to know, ask her yourself. I refuse to breathe a word. Around here walls can talk and listen."
Heron conceded that point, nodding in agreement. "Yeah … they do."
Artemis cocked her head to one side, frowning. "Why would you think that those three … transgressed?" she asked as carefully as she could manage.
Heron looked a little sheepish for a moment but sobered very quickly. "Malum and Rosier – they saw … something strange on Nott and Tom's bodies," he answered, lowering his voice again.
"Something strange? Like what?" Artemis wanted to know.
"Marks," Heron answered simply. "Strange Marks that had not been there before."
Artemis suppressed the urge to smirk. "Are they sure they weren't just hickeys?"
Heron flushed. "No, they were not hickeys, Artemis, or they would not have been overly concerned! Plus, Tom and Altair would have used Glamours. The Marks are not even on the neck!"
"Doesn't mean anything."
"Artemis!"
"Joking! Good Merlin, you're such a prude," Artemis huffed.
Her lover gaped for a moment, clearly not liking that comment at all.
"Prude, am I?" Heron raised an eyebrow, challengingly. A mischievous glint entered his eyes, along with another heated look that Artemis could not look away from. "You sure about that?"
"Very," came Artemis' easy answer.
The Lestrange Heir scoffed and pulled her closer to him, holding her in a possessive embrace. He captured her lips in one of the most searing kisses they had up until now. Heron had always been so careful with her; Artemis had been quietly jealous at how Tom and Altair never held back with Harry when it came to affection. Now, all that careful consideration had gone flying out of the window and Artemis couldn't care less.
"I'll show you prude," Heron growled when he broke the kiss.
Before she could respond, Artemis felt Heron begin to mark her neck, causing her to grip him more tightly as her knees began to buckle a little under the desire she felt build up. She knew that if a teacher or Peeves caught them like this, they would be in for big trouble. Exhibitionism wasn't really tolerated at Hogwarts, for obvious reasons.
And it seemed the Fat Lady was also getting a little bit annoyed. "All right, all right, that is enough of that!" she scolded, face behind her fan. "Don't the pair of you have school to prepare for?"
Heron detached himself from Artemis' neck, planting a kiss on the mark he made before withdrawing, looking pleased with himself. Artemis flushed; she could only imagine the state her neck was in!
"I hope you know a few Glamour spells," he teased.
"I hate you," Artemis grumbled.
"You shouldn't have called me a prude, my love," Heron grinned. "Not very nice."
"You weren't being very nice before, so I guess we are even," Artemis shot back with a pointed look.
Heron looked contrite. "Touché."
It was at this point that the Fat Lady portrait opened and Billy Prewett stuck his head around the frame. "Artemis, everything OK? We heard shouting and-"
The fourteen-year-old's eyes widened when he saw Heron and even more so when he spied the state of Artemis' neck. "Oh shit! Sorry! I … I will be going back inside now – Merlin have mercy! Your neck! Did you get attacked? Wait a minute … oh boy … forget I said anything…"
Heron chuckled evilly while Artemis whacked him on the arm before marching back to her Tower. Billy Prewett continued to look extremely red and it was safe to say that the source of the Gryffindors' amusement that morning was Artemis Potter having to ask Minerva McGonagall for several different Glamours to cover the mark on her neck completely.
###########################################################################
I hope that this does not need to become a habit, Minerva grumbled to herself as she found herself stalking about Hogwarts castle in her Cat Animagus form. She knew that her friends were keeping secrets – it wasn't difficult to tell with the amount of whispering she had noticed going on. It hadn't bothered Minerva all too much until now, especially after Artemis admitted that she and Heron had argued about secrets she was keeping on Harry's behalf.
Minerva was not one to admit it out loud, but the fact Harry had not told her a secret did hurt her a lot. However, Minerva did have her suspicions about what it could be – she just did not have as much Gryffindor courage or brashness to go and confront Harry about it. Instead, the Cat Animagus decided it was best to go and see if she could get anything from the one being closest to Harry: Athenaïs.
That meant heading to the Astronomy Tower. The tabby cat that was Minerva already shuddered at the prospect of stepping out into the cold, but she decided to suck it up and just deal with it. When she did eventually get to the seventh floor, the rain was pounding on the roof and wind was continuing its ominous song. Minerva shivered as she entered the Tower and began climbing the stairs.
Athenaïs was already at the Tower, practising some combative moves. Minerva stayed back to watch her friend's strange dragon familiar for a moment. Athenaïs had not noticed her yet; the Gargouille's eyes started glowing bright green, as did her tail, and Minerva watched in awe as Athenaïs elegantly but forcefully struck one of the tower's guard rails, cleaving it right in half. The dragon gave a triumphant chirp as she landed.
Next, Minerva was treated to another of Atty's powers. The young dragon began flapping her wings and pirouetted up into the air, letting out an eerie, mystic cry. Minerva's eyes widened when a strong wind started to pick up inside the Tower; she could swear the wind was leaving tendrils of green energy in its wake.
How in the name of Morgana was this dragon able to do this?! This was utterly unheard of!
Minerva did not have much time to contemplate rational options as to why a Gargouille, a species known for having zero elemental control, was able to conjure a wind that was forcing the Cat Animagus to cling to the nearest banister for dear life. It seemed that Minerva had been meowing indignantly because very quickly the wind died down, much to the tabby cat-witch's relief, and Athenaïs padded over to her.
"Hello, Minerva. You OK? I did not sense you arrive," Athenaïs chirped.
"I am fine," Minerva reassured as she sat up. "What are you doing?"
"Training. It's very important. Otherwise I cannot be of use to my Mistress," Athenaïs answered, her expression darkening.
Minerva frowned at this. "Of use to Harry? You are already of use to her!"
"Not if she is ever in danger," the dragon growled, hissing. "I could barely protect the Avery hatchling. I was beaten! I did not deserve all the praise I received. I could not save Mr. Ogden. Until I know what I can do, I am of use to no one."
"What happened to Mr. Ogden was not your fault," Minerva reasoned. "And you did protect Oizys! Lament did not hurt her because of you."
Athenaïs scowled, not convinced in the slightest. "Perhaps," she grumbled begrudgingly. "I will never be caught out again. I cannot allow anything bad to happen to Harry or her loved ones."
The tabby regarded the dragon with a look of sympathy for a moment.
"How is it that you are able to do … all that?" Minerva meowed her inquiry carefully.
"My powers, and powers loaned to me by friends," was the answer Minerva did not expect. Athenaïs smirked. "I am getting better at using my own powers without tapping into theirs, though."
"Your friends?" Minerva repeated.
"Yes. The ones in my necklace."
Before Minerva could press the Gargouille for more answers, both the ears of the Animagus and the dragon pricked up as they heard voices approach the Tower.
"-Atty doesn't live in the Tower, you know."
"No, but in this weather I doubt she is hunting."
Caius Dolohov and Arcturus Rosier. Minerva cursed to herself internally. Athenaïs did not look bothered in the slightest – in fact she lit up. Minerva wondered when the dragon had befriended those two. Out of all the Slytherins, those were not the two she would describe as the most sociable of the Snakes.
Minerva thought about trying to find a hiding spot but it was already too late. Both Dolohov and Rosier had come up the stairs and had already reached the top. Dolohov looked extremely pleased with himself when he saw Athenaïs beaming up at him.
"There she is! I told you so, Rosier," he exclaimed triumphantly.
Rosier rolled his eyes and turned to their draconic friend. "Hey, Atty, you enjoying the rain?" he greeted cheerfully.
"I don't mind it. It doesn't bother me that much," Athenaïs chirped in response.
Minerva had no idea if Rosier could understand the dragon, but he grinned anyway. He then turned those emerald eyes onto Minerva, causing her to flinch. "Oh, you have a friend with you. Hello there. You don't mind if we join you, right?"
Minerva blinked in disbelief. She was very nearly inclined to believe that Arcturus Rosier had been kidnapped by the fairies and replaced with a changeling. Then again he would not be nearly this polite if he knew who she was.
Athenaïs cocked her head at the tabby. "They do not know you can turn into a cat, do they?" she guessed.
"No, and I would like it to stay that way," Minerva answered.
"OK," Athenaïs answered with a smile and turned back to the boys, nodding.
Dolohov and Rosier sunk to the floor next to them and began taking out textbooks. Dolohov took out his Charms books and opened them onto the chapters to do with Creative Charms while Rosier took out a book from the Ghoul Studies section in the library. Minerva recognised it instantly – Duelling Dark Creatures: Dos and Don'ts. A Guide on How To Combat Monsters by Araska Ravenwood. She had studied it in preparation for the mock exams.
Atty padded over to Dolohov and watched him try out several different Charms on his own books and bag. Minerva could not help but gravitate towards the Ghoul Studies book, reading over Rosier's shoulder. He was on the chapter on the Adze, an African type of vampire that could take the form of a firefly and would only revert back to human form once captured. Though the human form was dangerous, it was the only form the Adze could be defeated in. As a firefly, their powers were much more devastating.
Rosier noticed Minerva reading along with him and grinned. "Nasty, right?" he chuckled. "Makes you want to avoid fireflies as much as possible."
Minerva found herself nodding in agreement.
"Must be a Ravenclaw's familiar," she heard Dolohov comment. "Smart and loves books. Plus I have never seen this one around so I know she doesn't belong to a Snake."
Atty smirked a little.
"Could be," Rosier mused. He shrugged. Rosier then regarded Dolohov was an expression Minerva could not decipher. "Just out of curiosity, have your parents been nagging you about finding a suitable pureblood match as much as mine have been?"
Dolohov flinched a little and grimaced. "No, but I do get the … odd jibe from my father," he admitted tensely, clearing his throat. "Should be used to it by now that the old man sticks his nose where it doesn't belong."
"So … you do have … your eye on someone?" Rosier was being extraordinarily careful in what he was saying. Minerva was unnerved.
As if the day could not get any more surprising already, Minerva witnessed Caius Dolohov blushing. Dolohov refused to meet Rosier's eyes as he answered. "Yes."
"Oh," Minerva swore she could hear Rosier's pulse quicken. "Erm … do I … know them?"
Dolohov, quite red in the face, met Rosier's eyes for the first time since this conversation started. "Why do you want to know?" he demanded. "What has been going around the Snake Pit this time?"
"Nothing!" Rosier assured quite quickly. It was Rosier's turn to turn redder than Minerva's blazer. "I … you know what, it is none of my business. I am sorry for prying. I will drop it."
It was Rosier's turn to hide his face from his friend but Dolohov did not look away from him. It was a look of such intensity that it made Minerva feel extremely uncomfortable even witnessing it. "It's OK," the Russian answered simply.
There was a pregnant pause for a good few moments.
"What about you?" Dolohov asked coolly. "Do you have someone you're interested in, despite all the parental nagging?"
Rosier swallowed, closing his eyes for a few seconds, as though he were gathering mental strength. "I … I don't know," he answered quietly. "It is … too early to say."
Dolohov nodded but didn't say anything else as he turned back to his Charms work.
Minerva could not quite compute what she had just witnessed. Athenaïs saw her disbelieving expression and giggled. "They're both as stupid as each other, are they not, Minnie?" the dragon stated.
"Oh Merlin," was all Minerva could answer with. "Rosier and Dolohov … they're …"
"Potential mates," Athenaïs clarified happily. "Issue is, Caius knows what he wants but is too afraid to take it. Arcturus has no idea what he wants and has no issues taking it if he can just pull his head out of his butt!"
Minerva snorted at that.
"Why do I get the feeling we are being left out of some juicy gossip?" Rosier commented.
"Because the cat laughed?" Dolohov offered easily.
The Animagus and the familiar chuckled. Rosier grinned too. "Yeah, probably."
"Loreley once told me not to interfere in human affairs of the heart, but these two make it bloody difficult," Athenaïs grumbled. "They are almost as bad as Harry was with her mates."
Minerva scoffed. "No one can beat that, Atty!"
"True," Athenaïs concurred readily. "But I have already decided that if this idiocy continues, I am going to see if I can bribe Sera, Sigyn and Frey into helping me … coax them into a decision."
"Oh Merlin," Minerva wished she could pinch the bridge of her nose.
"I don't think kitty likes her dragon friend's idea," Dolohov put in.
Rosier chuckled. "I don't think so either."
Minerva shot the pair a pointed look that made the boys chuckle further.
If only you knew, she thought internally. You're going to have a Gargouille for matchmaker!
###########################################################################
Despite a full day of classes, homework, Revision Club and having to deal with a rather irritable Dumbledore during Transfigurations, Harry decided that she had put her assignments enough on hold. Though she was tired, she still had a job to complete. After dinner, she made herself comfortable in front of the fire with the package containing the historical artefact, with Cymede and Jason next to her. As per protocol, Harry set up a suppression chamber around the package, just in case, and then began to carefully unpack it.
What Harry lifted out of the box was a strange, blue geometrical orb. Frowning in thought, she cast several magic detection spells on it, in order to see if there could be some nasty surprises lurking within. The results came back quite quickly: there was some potent magic in this thing, but nothing that could immediately be described as malevolent or dangerous.
Well, it's comforting to know it won't immediately kill you, Harry thought to herself snarkily.
Next, Harry cast her History Revelation spell to get an idea of what it actually was. However this time, her spell – without the aid of her upgraded scythe – showed her more than one image in its golden simulation. Some of the images passed by so quickly Harry could not get a proper look at them; all she knew for sure, was that this orb had more than one function. From what the Cursebreaker did see was that the orb could provide a map of the stars, and that sometimes Cymede coiled around it – on her own, and with Jason.
Harry looked at the snoozing automaton grimoires. Her hunch had been correct – the snakes were the key to this strange artefact. As she began studying the simulations again, this time trying to focus on minute details, the rest of Slytherin House returned from dinner and went to finish homework or relax. Harry barely noticed the hustle and bustle around her as she took notes. Her friends and family either went to gather the work they wanted to do or book they wanted to read and then joined her in their usual spots.
"Anything useful yet, Harry?" Druella wanted to know as she looked up from the essay on laws of Transfiguration that Dumbledore had set during his petty mood.
"Yes and no," Harry replied as she studied the intricate pattern on the orb. "The good news is, this orb is not designed to kill someone. The bad news is, it is multifaceted and thus multiple spells that I am trying to suss out."
"How is that bad news?" Caius asked, frowning in confusion.
"Because all of those spells somehow involve Cymede and Jason, and I just noticed that each spell is also activated by sequences of symbols – again," Harry huffed. "Seriously, these priests of Hekate would have been amazing at coding."
"Coding?" Ygraine repeated, cocking her head curiously. "What is that?"
I'm an idiot, Harry stated to herself once more. Not even the Muggles of the 40s would know what bloody coding is!
"Term I heard … growing up," Harry answered carefully. "Was used to describe the process of making a machine or spell do what you want it to."
"Huh. I half expected it to be a Muggle term," Felix commented, not looking up from his rather useless Divination homework. He was getting visibly annoyed with it. "Though I would swap doing your job with this useless assignment at any moment, Harry. We have to somehow get a bloody prophecy from reading fish guts! I mean, really!"
"What is one of the orb's functions?" Tom inquired curiously, looking up from the fantasy book that he had borrowed from Harry, and was apparently almost finished with.
"Well, if Cymede is positioned correctly, it is supposed to show one a map of the stars," Harry answered with a frown as she put the orb back into its suppression chamber. "Issue is, I have no idea how I am supposed to get two automatons to respond to the orb, or what spells need to be used."
"Maybe you just need to ask nicely?" Abraxas suggested without a hint of a sneery, snark or irony.
This made the Cursebreaker frown thoughtfully.
Orion, who was practically vibrating with anticipation, eyed the orb eagerly. "May I have a look, Harry?"
"Go for it. Maybe you see something I don't," Harry answered easily, looking through her notes.
The Black Heir lit up and carefully lifted the orb from the suppression chamber, Heron getting up from his spot between Caius and Malum to come and have a look. Meanwhile, Altair had woken up Cymede and Jason and was discussing his Herbology homework with them – the grimoires tried several times to try and 'take in' the magical information by biting into the books but Altair would not let them for fear of something untoward happening to some of their more historical and valuable knowledge.
Cymede and Jason appeared a little put out, until they seemed to sense the orb. Their heads turned not subtly to it, their mechanical heads cocking to the side a few times as though registering what it was. Orion and Heron did not notice them, nor did they notice that the automatons were slowly slithering their way to them.
"It is going to sound completely mad, probably, but the ways these lines run – I think it could be a three dimensional Wheel of Hekate," Orion mused as he turned the orb in front of him, rotating the orb in his hands.
"I think you may be right, Orion," Heron agreed, tracing the pattern with his fingers.
"Wheel of Hekate?" Harry repeated, flushing a little at her own ignorance.
"A visual representation of the goddess, consisting of a maze with three distinct whirls that are connected to the middle," Heron clarified. "Magically speaking the Wheel harnesses the power of knowledge and life as well as a journey and inner discovery."
"One of the most powerful ancient magical symbols," Orion grinned. "One that is unfortunately seldom used these days. "
"Mostly because of the Light and their petty paranoia," Malum sneered, looking up from a book on advanced Magical Theory. Harry frowned; she was pretty certain Malum was not taking an extracurricular class. So why was he reading a book on one of the most heavily theory based classes that not even Hermione wanted to take?
"Priests of Hekate using the Wheel of Hekate as the basis of their orb," Arcturus clarified for himself with a grin. "Yeah, that makes sense."
It was at this point that Cymede and Jason had reached Orion, eyeing the orb in his hands and then Jason started hissing in Ancient Greek again.
"I understood 'assistance' but that is about it," Orion told the snake apologetically.
"Good reason for that," Altair spoke up. "He asked if you needed his help, or Cymede's, or both."
"Erm … Cymede's?" Orion answered with a slightly wavering tone.
The automaton in question wasted no time slithering up Orion's leg and then up to the orb and began coiling herself around the orb, following a certain pathway of the Wheel carved into the orb. Before anyone could react, Cymede sunk her fangs into the centre of the orb, causing a sequence of symbols on the orb to start glowing brightly; it activated the sigils on the grimoire's back. The Slytherins watched in awe as the path Cymede took also started to glow and they heard a feminine voice ring out of the orb.
"Tell me what you need," Altair translated.
Harry knocked herself out of her stupor. "Can … you show me some important information?"
Altair translated to the automaton. Cymede repositioned her body slightly around the orb as she injected some kind of magic into the orb – the sigils on her back were glowing in different sequences yet again. Everyone watched as the surface of the orb seemed to ripple, revealing an inky sky with constellations and planets, then what looked like shipping routes, an ancient blue print of the Temple – most likely – and papyrus rolls in Greek with drawings of something that looked akin to a Dark creature.
When Cymede tried to switch to the next 'file', Harry began flapping her hands a little. "No, no, stop, Cymede! Go back please!"
Cymede complied quite quickly when hearing the translation. The images honed in on the documents and the drawings. Harry had no idea what the documents said but they were about these creatures who looked like beautiful humans one minute and then the next transformed into fanged creatures with glowing yellow eyes, wings and what looked like bronze arms and legs.
"What in the name of Merlin…?" Ophelia whispered.
Druella gasped from behind Harry. "Avalon have mercy … those are empousai."
"Empo-what-now?" Malum frowned.
"Dark creatures older than vampires," Druella explained. "They are said to be the daughters of Hekate and Mormo, a female spirit some believe to be the patron goddess of vampires. Mothers and nurses used to tell stories about her to get kids to behave apparently. Anyway the empousai seduced their prey in order to drink blood. They were master shapeshifters, but their real forms were … quite hideous."
"Why was Cymede's priest or priestess studying them?" Walburga wanted to know.
Cymede answered that question herself, with Altair translating. "There were suspected empousai attacks in the Temple. Followers of Hekate were being drained and getting strange dreams. Some were trapped in their dreams. Our Witch and Wizard tried to hunt the culprit down and trap them."
"Trap them?" Harry repeated, looking up from her rapid note taking.
"Empousai can teleport. The creature needed to be contained and then destroyed."
"Did they succeed?" Orion inquired eagerly.
"Containment succeeded. Destruction – unclear," was Cymede's answer, according to Altair's translation.
"Unclear? You mean, you don't know if your Witch and Wizard succeeded, or if the creature stayed dead?" Caius questioned with a frown.
Cymede did not answer – either she had no idea how to answer the question, or she perhaps did not know the answer. Which ever it was, Harry was already getting a headache, despite her excitement. The Temple had faced a supernatural threat! This was definitely worth leaving dinner early for.
Whilst taking this information in, Harry switched her attention onto Jason. Cymede unplugged herself from the orb as Jason slithered up Orion's leg, up onto the orb and coiled around the orb too, sinking his fangs into the middle of the three dimensional Wheel of Hekate. Where Cymede seemed to be the grimoire with all the knowledge, Jason was the grimoire with information on the people who had lived in the Temple. Harry and her friends – all of whom had all but forgotten their own work and books – could not take their eyes off these witches and wizards of the past.
The priests and priestess of Hekate were all dressed in colour schemes of silver, red, black and green. More than a few of them had been accompanied by large black hounds. Jason went through a lot of the names and faces – Aikat, Silas, Spyridon, Eunoia, Xanthe, were the ones Harry managed to pick out quite quickly – but Jason had the most focus on one priestess and one priest. Hali and Otis, both no older than seventeen in some images, and then a little older in others. Considering how well recorded they were in Jason's system, Harry quietly theorised that Hali and Otis were the creators of the automatons.
It was no surprise that everyone lost track of time and it had been Oizys, Eileen and Octavian who reminded the seventh years that they had to go to bed soon or risk oversleeping and missing breakfast.
###########################################################################
If there was something Andras was very proud of, it was the fact that Lord Nott had not figured out that his son's Northern Inuit had been spying on him for two days straight. True, the man was more occupied with his paperwork, shouting at his butler and talking to himself but still. On this occasion, however, it was not because of human business or venting at butlers that had the Nobleman distracted.
Andras did not dare venture too close to the slightly open door in case Altair's father did finally notice him but made sure to lie as close to the door as possible so that he could hear everything that was going on. It seemed on this occasion, Lord Nott was talking to his fireplace. Most of the call was very hush-hush but very soon he and the person on the other end of the line broached a subject that got Lord Nott angry.
"-I have not the foggiest idea who could be behind this!"
"Perhaps you should consider that wife of yours, Mattheo?"
Andras frowned. He did not know the owner of the voice, but all he knew for certain was that it was a human female.
"Amaris would not do this, Diantha. She does not have the spine for it," Lord Nott answered coldly. Andras had to suppress the urge to growl at that insult to his Wizard's mother.
"Well, someone is behind this and whoever it is, they are not giving up," this Diantha person retorted. "I got another letter, this time one that is asking me to meet with this degenerate! Either I meet them, or they would take everything they have to the papers."
"You are not going through with this surely?" Lord Nott demanded.
"How else are we going to figure out who is doing this? Has your precious little P.I. come up with any results yet?" Diantha sneered. "Because Annie knows that something is wrong and so far I have been managing to keep her out of this."
"Yes," Lord Nott agreed sadly. "She knows I am lying to her as well. She is currently ignoring me because of it, and I have a feeling even Amaris and Altair's familiar know something is wrong. I got some strange looks from the pair of them two days ago."
"Fine. I will not meet this person, but I swear to Merlin, Mattheo, if this gets my career soiled simply because the pair of you could not control yourselves, I will not save you," Diantha warned icily. "I will not have everything I worked for be undone by your foolishness!"
Lord Nott clenched his jaws. "Do you have the address about where this person wants to meet?" he demanded coolly.
"I do. You want me to send it over?"
"Yes."
"You planning going in my stead? Because if you are, I think you should be very careful. We don't know anything about this person!"
"Just send it over and leave the rest to me," Lord Nott stated tartly. "When are you supposed to meet them?"
"Friday."
"All right," Lord Nott gave a curt nod. "I will be in touch, Diantha."
"Didn't expect anything less, Mattheo," the woman answered coolly before hanging up.
Andras frowned to himself. He did not know precisely what it was, but he knew that it concerned the other woman and children in the photos he had seen. And the person who took those photos. It seemed that someone was threatening Lord Nott and this Diantha with them.
The Northern Inuit got onto his feet and began to quietly pad his way back to Amaris' chambers, ignoring the looks from passing servants and elves as he did. Andras had his mind on something else: revenge. Revenge for how the man had treated Altair and Amaris all these years. However, Andras knew he would need the help of humans to get it.
Andras frowned. But who could help? Wait … Altair's mates! They would perhaps know what to do. But then again they were just children – powerful, but still children. Still, it was worth a try.
But first, he needed to get his paws on that address. Andras smirked wolfishly to himself. Oh he had not chased a mail owl in so long! He was quite looking forward to it. He just needed to make sure Lord Nott was not at home to receive his mail.
###########################################################################
"Ich bin gelangweilt! Why is nothing fun happening? Why is everyone behaving? When is Hera going to open her present? Ich brauche Unterhaltung! … I DO NOT NEED THAT KIND OF ENTERTAINMENT YOU IMPERTINENT PIECE OF WORMWOOD!"
This outburst had been quite common for a good few days now. Grindelwald's raids and missions had been going very well indeed, Queenie, Vida and Credence were working as a team again and Carrow's informants in the Resistance had reported that Meg, Ghost and Goliath have gone missing. This was music to Grindelwald's ears. Finally, one less Seer to worry about! Pity the Weavers did not give him an indication of where they were or where they were buried so he could bring some flowers, but oh well.
However, everything going well soon had gotten on the Dark Lord's nerves and he was itching for some more 'action and excitement', as he put it. He almost had half a mind to attack a few of those 'labour camps' the Germans had been running, just to see what kind of chaos he could cause. This idea had been quickly killed in its infancy by the Elder Wand, which had taken up its campaign of Let's Drive Grindelwald Further Into Insanity once more.
"I knew this peace would not last," Vida grumbled as she looked up momentarily from her magazine, shaking her head. She and Credence were keeping Queenie company in her chambers, since the Legilimens had put some intricate Muffling Charms on her room. Vida and Credence had not had time to reinforce theirs.
"I think he will order us to bully Nazi high command just for somethin' to do," Queenie agreed. "I mean, bullyin' those swines is always fun but it loses its lustre after a while."
"Do you know what Gellert has sent the Peverell girl?" Credence wanted to know, looking up from his book on Blood malediction.
"Not the foggiest idea, sugar," Queenie sighed. "If I did, I would probably send the girl a warnin' that she is about to face a world of trouble."
"All we know for sure it's some kind of Undead," Vida added. "What kind, we can only guess at." She smirked. "Hera is going to have some fun, that's for sure. I hope the Undead gives her a world of pain."
"I doubt any old vampire, mummy or zombie stands a chance against a Peverell," Credence grumbled. "They will be turned to ash, bones and bandages before they can make a mark on her."
Vida smirked. "I am pretty certain Gellert has thought of that. I believe that whatever has been sent to the girl, will be more than a challenge for her!"
One that she will hopefully come alive out of, Queenie commented to herself internally.
###########################################################################
So Mr. Horner's office is finally getting somewhere, the strange geometric orb-cube has apparently got secrets of its own and it seems now Lord Nott has a familiar to worry about in addition to a blackmailer. With Atty planning on 'helping' Caius and Arcturus, there will no doubt be more mischief yet to come! Stay tuned to find out how it plays out.
Oh boy did I have a rough week – momentary writer's block (I had no idea the precise sequence of events that needed to take place) plus being ill really sucks. Fortunately I am feeling quite a bit better.
*Waits to see if her characters decide to pop in*
OK, I think they are distracted for once! I will see you guys in the next chapter!
Kingmaker'sUmbreon
