Harry frowned as he followed the Immortal Nicolas Flamel after dinner that night. The man was silent, unlike the hall they had just left before the beginnings of evening pudding. They roamed the corridors, as the ambience of the castle, a magic of itself, settled over their shoulders. The only sounds were their footsteps on the flagstones, the whisperings of the portraits as they spread the news that the Last Potter was the Apprentice of Flamel.
The duo walked into the Defensive Wing, as the Marauder's Map labeled it. It apparently housed every Defense oriented class, club or event in the castle's history, baring large whole school events the required the space of the Great Hall. It was three doors past the Magical Combat classroom that the duo slipped into a room that was sparsely decorated; the only furniture in the room was a partner's desk and two chairs on either side. A cot was tucked into a corner, obviously transfigured half walls forming the "bedroom".
Harry asked the obvious question of "What is this Professor."
Flamel smiled, his eyes gleaming in the torchlight of the room. "This is your room my Apprentice."
Harry was speechless. He quickly looked towards the immortal and met his eye. "Excuse me?"
"Ah, I assumed you knew… pity." With a flick of his wand, the door shut locking the two in the room. Another flick, a couch appeared. With a sigh, the centuries old Alchemist sat on the ugliest couch Harry had ever laid eyes on.
"I trust you can make your own seating." Nicolas said after he called for a house elf to bring them tea.
Harry nodded and flicked a blue fluffy chair into being. He sat just as tea appeared on the arm of the chair.
"Now that we have all we need for a discussion; it is time to begin. What do you know of apprenticeships?" Nicolas asked the teen as he sipped his tea.
Harry racked his brain and then began to speak, "you teach me everything, you basically become my guardian. Right?" Harry continued on,"You'll teach me things like Alchemy as I study here and gain my OWLs and NEWTs."
Nicolas nodded slightly as he listened to the boy. He then held up a hand instantly stemming the rambling.
"You're wrong." Harry opened his mouth to counter when Nicolas glared slightly. Instantly, Harry shut his mouth. "The reality is that I will not become your guardian. That is still Sirius Black. However, as my apprentice, I do gain a significant aspect of control over your life. For example, you are no longer a student of Hogwarts."
Harry gasped as his robes flashed and the red trim and tie disappeared, leaving velvety black. He felt the magics of the castle itself press against him for a moment, as the school registered his transfer. As the magic lifted from his shoulders, he gasped.
"I- I'm not a Gryffindor anymore?"
"No child, you are not a Gryffindor anymore. You will find that the castle will reject your entry to the dorms baring invitation." Nicolas frowned slightly as he saw Harry's eyes.
"Why? Why the hell did you do that?!" Harry sputtered as his shock turned to anger. "My friends are in Gryffindor! And you just took away the protections of this castle! WE ARE AT WAR!"
"Shut up Potter." Nicolas' voice broke through Harry's and silenced him in an instant.
"Let me be clear. Your status as a student here has changed. The staff, baring myself, has no means of meaningfully punishing or rewarding you as you are my apprentice. Points don't matter, as they wouldn't go to Gryffindor. The castle already would have barred your entry into the tower, and that ignores the social implications of your apprenticeship. In essence, according to the castle, you are an employee of the school, under my direct supervision."
"But, I don't have my OWLs, I'm not an adult yet!" Harry protested as he gripped his teacup.
"Correct. You will sit your OWLs and your NEWTs in time, possibly by the end of the year. However, your Godfather has agreed that this is the best tactic to handle this delicate situation." Nicolas sighed as he finished his cup of tea. Harry took that opportunity to speak again.
"You mean the fact that the school thinks I am too powerful to be a student here?"
"That is merely one facet of the issue. Allow me to explain. You, a fourteen-year-old wizard won the Triwizard Tournament, which was modified by the Goblet of Fire. Not only that, but such a modification should not have happened as it was believed to have been edited out of the enchantment. Yet, you were still chosen as the best possible champion for your school, and each task, you dominated utilizing magic unseen in over a decade. Yet that pales in comparison to the Final Task."
Harry's eyes were wide as the Alchemist continued, Nicolas' eyes never leaving the young wizard.
"You dueled Voldemort himself, as a fourteen-year-old wizard, and not only did you survive, you survived longer than most Auror Squads, and manage to drive him away with only two casualties. It is not just the school body that questions if you should be here, it is the entirety of Wizarding Britain. You are unaware of how much effort and political maneuvering it required to ensure that there was not a Ministry official here to moderate you."
"But how is that even a debate? I'm not even-" Harry began before Nicolas cut him off.
"You aren't even what my apprentice? You aren't that important? You are Harry Potter, the Last Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and the winner of the Triwizard Tournament. You aren't a threat? Of course you aren't, especially comparatively to the threats that are looming, however Governments are always terrified of loose cannons and the unknown. In fact, my being the newest addition to the staff of Hogwarts was the deciding factor on if you would be allowed to return to this castle in the first place."
The pieces started to snap together for Harry.
"The duel. I was right when I said to Hermione and Ron that it was a power play on your part."
Nicolas smirked and nodded. "Yes, it was. It allowed me to show that I can provide protection in case you are a threat to the student body, a check on you if you will." The smirk fell from his face as he frowned. "However, it still was not enough. I knew when I offered the duel, there was still two issues. The first being the Goblet of Fire's Protection. Anything that you viewed as an attack would be incinerated with the black flames. The second was that though I beat you, and I was confident I would, I did so without your family magic amplification, your crown as it were."
"There was doubt that you were an effective balance to me. So, you offered me an apprenticeship." Harry continued to the line of thought he had begun with his revelation of correct assumptions.
"Yes, I offered you an apprenticeship, hoping that you knew what I was offering and recognize the benefits- "Nicolas got cut off by his furious apprentice.
"Yes, master, tell me what the benefits are of this new yoke around my neck?! Tell me the features of my new collar?" In a flash, the teen was up and pacing the room as he struggled not to attack the immortal.
"It really is simple. Once you pass your NEWTs, you will no longer be my apprentice. This is a place holding measure. Until such a time that the Ministry is too concerned with the war, this provides the illusion of control." Nicolas calmly replied.
"Illusion of control?"
"Illusion of control. If you were still an orphan with no guardian baring the school, the illusion would cease and it would be a reality. However, your guardian is Sirius Black. While I maybe your master, Black is your legal guardian until such time as you pass your NEWTs or reach your majority. That means, that Black, at any time, can declare the apprenticeship null and void." Nicolas raised an eyebrow as Harry grinned.
"Then I'll just ask him to do so right now."
"This is why Voldemort beat you in the Final Task." Nicolas' voice froze the teen in his tracks.
"Further, this is what Cedric and Sirius both attempted to teach you, and now you have no choice but to learn. Foresight and tactics are extremely important in war, politics and life. The three things so intertwined for you that they are one and the same. If you ask Sirius right now if you can be free of this apprenticeship, he will say no."
"He wouldn't do that! He doesn't want me to be controlled like a beast by an old man!" Harry spat.
"No, he doesn't. He wants his godson to have control of himself, something I can teach. He wants his godson to stay in the safest location in Britain while there is not one but two Dark Lords moving. He wants his godson to be able to live. If this apprenticeship ends, even if you are reinstated as a student here, you will be removed from the castle within a week by the Ministry. You would be locked away either in the Department of Mysteries or in Azkaban on trumped up charges, because the Government of this country doesn't think you are safe for the public. Not only that, but it is likely that you would be dead by the end of the year due to Voldemort assassinating you." Nicolas' voice was harder than steel as he finally stood. As Harry stood rooted in place, he paced around him and continued to speak.
"So, stop and think boy. It was an issue I saw in your duel with me, in the memory of the Final Task, and when I spoke with Sirius. Every moment, you have to be aware. You make up finesse and control for power and blunt force."
"If we were perfectly honest with each other, Nero is so dangerous because he is exactly what you could be. Precise, controlled power."
"I don't want to be like Nero! He is a monster!" Harry snapped. He waved his hand in the air, creating a face that laughed at a ruin of a castle made of smoke. "That is his form of entertainment!" He ignored the feelings of hurt that came from deep inside himself.
"Here you go again, making a mistake that I assumed that you of all people understood. The difference between actions, intent and philosophy. You, who studied your own history, clearly know nothing of the Darkest Potter. Until such a time as you and he understand each other, you will not Crown." Nicolas sat back down on the couch and steepled his fingers.
"You cannot do tha-" Harry gasped as Nero wrestled his control away, and the mask slowly started to form. Harry slumped slightly, as a high-pitched giggle started to come from his lips.
"Hehehe. Good. Nicolas, we never met, but I am-" Nero spoke as his control solidified.
"I know who you are 'Nero'." The tone of Nicolas left no illusion of his thoughts on the being. "Now, why have you taken control of my apprentice?"
"Because he is going to either go mad, or accept the reality. He chose his rule, and he refuses to abide by it." The being frowned using the boy's body.
"Is that all?" Nicolas' eyes narrowed.
"No, but you are aware of the connection. So far, I have stopped nearly a dozen meetings between them…" Again the body shrugged.
"One has happened hasn't it?" Nicolas sighed as he rubbed his temple.
The being nodded Harry's head. "Yep. Gave some shit about how he was justified and it was a misunderstanding. The lad doesn't believe it per say but he doesn't disbelieve it either."
"What do you believe Voldemort stands to gain from this?" Nicolas questioned.
The being smiled horrifically. "Voldy thinks that the boy's a Horcrux of course. And if he can control him, he has a horcrux that could arguably be the strongest weapon in this war of his."
Nicolas smirked and asked one last question. "We both know who you are. But why did-"
The being laughed hysterically cutting off the alchemist, "Because! It was fun and it bought the boy more time. He needs to understand control before he Crowns again. I won't be as willing to hand back the reins next time Old man." With a smirk and a final giggle, the mask shattered and Harry fell to the floor as if he was a puppet with his strings cut.
Harry woke with a piercing headache and sat up in a cot he didn't remember falling asleep in. He rubbed his forehead as he felt around for his glasses. He found them on the table beside the cot and slipped them on.
Sitting across the makeshift bedroom, in an obviously conjured couch, as it was squished into an opening that was clearly not meant to house a couch, was Nicolas Flamel.
"One of the first things we will do is teach you how to brew an eye elixir. Sight is one of humanities greatest gifts, and if yours can be summoned away…" The man wrote in a small notebook with an equally sized quill as he spoke, causally taking notes on something. He continued to mutter, "That will also teach a semblance of control… yes that's what we will do."
"Professor, what happened?" Harry asked as he righted the glasses on his nose. He would have to see Madam Pomfrey soon to fix how his glasses sat. Luckily that matron of Hogwarts was an adept hand at small alterations.
"Nero decided to speak to me." With a snap, the notebook closed, the quill disappeared and the man's amber eyes met Harry's green. "I was correct. You're lack of control is causing an imbalance in your familial magics, possibly due to a misunderstanding when you created your limiter."
"My limiter?" Harry's confused question only got a sigh from the Alchemist, an a brief muttering of "I thought I picked a smart one…"
"I think you call it the Rule? To be blunt, I wasn't paying that much attention to such a trivial thing as the name of the limiter." Flamel shrugged, before he reached for a glass of water on a table that Harry just noticed was beside the couch.
"Oh. I don't understand where the misunderstanding could be though…" Harry trailed off as an errant thought popped into his head. That couldn't it… He dismissed it swiftly, as he knew the history of his family inside and out. He read the Grimoire after all.
"Well until the misunderstanding or imbalance is corrected, we will be working with fundamental control. Pop quiz, why do you study potions at Hogwarts?" Flamel leaned back in his conjured couch and watched as the confused teen reeled from the impromptu quiz.
"Er… I don't know? They are magical so we should study it at magic school?" Harry spoke as if it were obvious.
"Well yes, but no. You see Potions and to an extent herbology, serves a greater purpose in your education other than well roundedness. You could be taught as Durmstrang or the Chinese Magical Institute teaches, and have only a year of required potions class, with a further three to six optional for those who show talent in the field. They would instead offer a selection of classes, such as geomancy, magical crafting, and even animal training. You see, each of these have something in common. What do you believe it is?" Flamel asked his apprentice and watched in quiet contemplation as the boy ran through his knowledge of those subjects. Thankfully, due to his familial magics, such knowledge was not slight, and he swiftly came to an answer.
"They aren't not magical, but they aren't as reality shifting as the core wand arts right?" Harry struggled to phrase what he was saying but Nicolas understood and nodded.
"Correct. The correct terms are hard magical disciplines and soft magical disciplines. Before the rise of the Roman Empire, nearly all magicals practiced soft disciplines. Nearly every magical could brew potions, created their own magical foci and tamed their own animals. Their magic, by today's standards, would be considered primitive weak and borderline nonmagical. That changed when Caesar invaded Britain, then known as Gaul. You see the druids and natural magical born, were well versed in forms of hard magic such as charms and even some transfiguration. They would utilize rituals to activate those effects, laying grand traps along Hadrian's Wall for any unlucky Roman to trigger. However, even by our standards of today, those would be first to third year level spells. At best transfiguring swords into pieces of wood and people into lions or pigs. Something which our studious third to fourth years could do with enough force." Flamel smiled as he saw his pupil enamored with the history. He took a breath and continued. "It wasn't until wands became popular in the early 600s, that both hard and soft magic became possible for any magical. That didn't change until Hogwarts was founded. It was then that the common thought of magical education was decided. It was also discovered the effect of studying hard and soft disciplines." Nicolas paused slightly for the dramatic effect, forgetting that his only audience was an already interested and invested young teen. "It makes for better magical practitioners."
"How is that?" Harry asked as his brow furrowed.
"It allows control of your magic. It is similar to how a knife can cut more precisely than a sword. Both cuts, but one is more controlled, with less obvious uses, while the other is obscenely functional." Nicolas looked at his young pupil. "Your magic is like a claymore. Effective and massive. You make large strokes, when simplicity and small incisions are just as effective."
Harry looked at his hands, spread wide as if to grip a ball, and tried to understand his new master's words. He thought of his duels with Sirius, where power and strategy were the key to victory. He thought of his duel against the facsimile of his father that the Goblet formed, how he effectively matched him blow for blow. His confusion was evident for Nicolas simply sighed and smiled softly.
"It is something we shall practice. Now sleep my apprentice."
Harry, for the first time, obeyed his master without question.
Grindlewald eyed the walled castle that was hidden from muggle view with some of the most powerful enchantments known to magical kind. It had taken months, but his forces had finally laid siege to the castle of Alexei Churnal, the Prime Chancellor of Magical Russia. Situated in the middle of Moscow, the castle was well defended, and if he extended his senses, Grindlewald knew he would feel Alexei himself.
A man who was nearly as old as he, Alexei was the premier Russian magical. It was his planning and leadership that pushed Grindlewald's forces from the Russian front during his first war. His skill was such that two of his lieutenants together could not best him in combat. He frowned as he thought of Voltsky and Charum, the two brothers that served him so faithfully. He was curious about their fates, and would have to ask Klaus.
He made a mental note of that as he refocused on the castle. With a flick of his wrist, his wand appeared in his hand. He was lucky that none knew where he hid it away when he acquired the Elder Wand, and it worked as well as it ever did. With a series of smooth flicks, runes were carved into the concrete around him, and he eased his body into a sitting position, coming to rest beside a gleaming iron spike. He pointed his wand at the castle and started to chant the ritualistic spell he had prepared for this moment.
As his chanting grew, the spike beside him started to shudder and shake before raising into the air and hovering in front of his wand. Slowly, particles started to rise from Grindlewald's bare arms, latching onto the spike. Each flake of skin that rose from the man's arms exposed sigils, seals and runes on the man's flesh. Soon, his hair started to shimmer as pieces fell from his scalp, and wound around the spike. Slowly, the spike started to crackle with magical energy as the ritual poured power into the object. As the chanting started to die down, the spike flashed twice before erupting into a lance of magical power, cratering the concrete as it blasted towards the castle. With an earth-shattering explosion, the enchantments protecting the walls and very wall itself, crumpled and shattered.
A cheer erupted from Grindlewald's forces as they stormed the castle, leaving their leader to be helped to his feet by Scarvosky. An older gentleman, wearing the grey battle robes of the Grindlewald Military Forces, Scarvosky was one of the youngest of the original Lieutenants. Originally a spy for a foreign Ministry, Scarvosky grew enamored with the vision of his Lord, a vision he still believed in over a half century later. As he helped his Lord to his feet, he asked of the origin of such a powerful ritual.
Grindlewald eagerly explained as the two strode towards the castle that the ritual was an invention of his, for these moments exactly. Sacrificing merely his own dead skin and hair follicles, along with a railroad spike of pure iron, it created a lance of magical energy capable of piercing even the strongest of magical defenses. As the duo walked through the castle, they witnessed many of their men fighting the entrenched forces, yet they paid them no mind. Flicking away any stray spell that happened towards them, they walked to the gate of the main building, Grindlewald grinning at his lieutenant's eager face upon seeing the makeup of the gate. He began to laugh when the man proceeded to rush towards the obstacle.
Scarvosky smiled and tapped the gate with his stubby wand, the iron flowing like water into two large carved blades, that hovered by the man's shoulders as if they were demented wings. Grindlewald smirked slightly as he strode past, his pace never changing. As he walked by his lieutenant, he spoke to the man who was happily moving the iron blades with subtle movements of his fingers.
"Come Scarvosky, we must thank the Prime Chancellor for his gift. After all, it is not often an Iron Angel gets his wings."
Alexei sighed as the wizard who was tied to the wards of the castle crumpled to the ground, holding his head screaming in agony. He spoke to his son, Michail."He is here. Send a message to Dumbledore. Moscow has fallen to Grindlewald. I shall engage the invaders, you escape."
With a frown, the young man nodded, and hugged his father tightly. "I love you father." He spoke before running down a secret escape that opened at a wand touch. In seconds, he was gone, and Alexei was alone. He took a deep breath and prepared himself for his plan.
He tore the sleeve of his luxurious robe, exposing a runic tattoo that he received over four decades previously. With a jab of his wand, the tattoo started to glow. With a flick, the robe was repaired, hiding the glowing runes. He then prepared to wait.
He calmed his breathing, and started to move his magic through his veins. If he knew Grindlewald, he would attack nearly instantly, and would likely have at least one lieutenant with him. As he meditated, his mind flashed back to his duel with Voltsky and Charum, the Bastions of Berlin. He remembered the tactics the two brothers used, the constantly shifting terrain as they fought in this very room. He remembered the feeling of dueling two of the strongest wizards he had ever met simultaneously, and coming out victorious. He smiled as he remembered his wife, then just a wealthy witch, kissing his cheek when he had won the day. That single moment defined his life, and this room would define his legacy. With a sigh he opened his eyes as Grindlewald and Scarvosky entered.
Scarvosky's wings, clearly made of iron, stretched across the length of the room as he flared them outwards. The razor-sharp tips easily cut into the stonework on either side, blocking the only exit of the room. With a soft grunt, the man walked forward, leaving the majority of the iron wings behind to form a barrier.
With a flick of his wrist, Scarvosky formed a rod of iron that he pointed at Alexei.
"In the name of my Lord, Grindlewald, we ask for your surrender."
Grindlewald chuckled before speaking softly, "Now now, lets be more polite. Prime Chancellor Chunal, I humbly request that you surrender. My troops are not currently killing if they can avoid it, however…" He stopped, knowing the intent of his statement was clear.
"You, who would slaughter millions, wish me to believe that you would let my loyal men survive this assault simply for my surrender? Nurmengard must have robbed you of your sense, Gellert." Alexei spat as his wand rose to point at the wizened Dark Lord.
Grindlewald's smile slowly fell from his face as he shrugged his shoulders, the rich purple cloak falling to the floor. He stood in pressed black robes, framing his bare arms covered in shifting sigils, forming dozens of runic matrixes. With a flourish, the wizard's wand was out of a holster and resting in his hand.
"I recommend you rethink your answer Prime Chancellor. You have lost Moscow, please do not waste your life as well." The man's cultured voice spoke with an inherit sadness, as if the thought of killing Alexei was painful.
"Hrupht." With a grunt, Alexei attacked, banishing Scarvosky back towards Grindlewald, who elegantly pivoted allowing his lieutenant to fly by him without issue. A flick, the smooth marble of the floor shifted into razor sharp spikes that sought out Alexei's blood. Chunal snarled and jabbed his wand forward as he started to flip over the spikes. A hazy smoke billowed out of the Russian's wand as Grindlewald swirled his wand around, creating a circle of purple light that started to spark menacingly with black electricity. The smoke swiftly condensed into a gigantic black bird, and shot towards the Dark Lord.
With a snap of his fingers and a whispered word, the purple circle unleashed a massive blast of black lightning forward, and a sigil on Grindlewald's left arm winked out of existence. The lightning tore through the smoke, igniting it like confetti, only to dissipate against a highly fortified shield spell.
Chunal smirked,"Now, Gellert, if this is the best you have, I will be taking back my ci-" His speech was cut off as a rod of iron ploughed through his shield and blasted into his torso.
Grindlewald glanced to the side at Scarvosky, who's iron rod was missing from his hand, now buried in the Prime Chancellor's chest. "Was that necessary? I was just about to have fun."
"Apologies My Lord, I just really wanted to hit back after the banishing stunt." The lieutenant replied, as Grindlewald shrugged.
"He isn't dead yet, so I suppose I can get the last word still."
The weak voice of the Prime Chancellor replied as he reached across the rod that pinned him to the floor in a reclined position, "I… I will get the last word… Gellert…um..umeret." With a grunt of agony, he tore the sleeve from his robe exposing a brightly glowing runic tattoo.
Grindlewald's eyes widened as he swore.
Alexei soundlessly roared in triumph as all his magical energy exploded outward, in a cataclysmic explosion. Building endlessly off of itself, the eruption blasted through the marble of the castle, leaving nothing but ash in its wake.
With the swiftness granted by over a century of magical use, Grindlewald flung himself over Scarvosky, chanting as three sigils shifted on his arms, forming a circle around the two.
In a flash of light, the castle was gone.
AN: Well... the world went insane so I sorta didn't have time to publish this til now. It was also really difficult to write the first section.
Next Chapter will have a time skip, as I am not writing two months of Flamel. See ya all then, Zero.