I've finally settled on a semi-permanent update schedule! I will now be updating on every other Sunday, rotating between When Spirits Call, Sundering Seas, and The Black Fortune, in that order. Therefore, the next chapter of SS will be posted on 7/25, TBF on 8/8, WSC on 8/22, and so on and so forth. This means that there will be roughly a month and a half between updates for any one story. Those dates are guaranteed. If I write a chapter faster than I thought I would, it may be posted in between scheduled update days. I might decide to switch to weekly updates if I can maintain the biweekly schedule for a few months. If I end up dropping a story in order to make for less of a wait time between chapters it will likely be TBF. I don't know if that's going to happen though, so I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.
Monday, September 9, 1996
Harry rolled up his completed Transfiguration essay with a strong sense of satisfaction. His entire weekend had been spent writing essays since none of the staff saw fit to give the students a grace period. Harry could feel the stress gradually building up, coiling underneath his skin and manifesting as an itch he could not scratch.
Hermione had spent the weekend with him in the common room, every so often throwing sidelong glances at him as if he was her newest puzzle to figure out. Harry had no intention of becoming Hermione's newest obsession, so he just kept his head down and did his work. Acting as normally as possible was his goal.
Then again, Harry supposed that being dedicated to his schoolwork wasn't normal, at least for him. Ron had taken one look at the precarious piles of books that Harry and Hermione had built up on their shared study table and left for the Quidditch pitch. He hadn't spoken a word to Harry since tryouts, which suited Harry just fine. Harry was pleasantly surprised at how fast he was able to get through his assignments without Ron's constant distractions.
Harry stowed his Transfiguration essay into his bookbag and double checked that his notes from the Half-Blood Prince were still in there before standing up and swinging the bag up onto his shoulder. Getting up early to complete his essay hadn't been a terrible idea after all. The familiar tug of sleep on his eyelids was suspiciously absent and Harry wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Harry's stomach emitted a loud growl as he exited through the portrait hole and he was forcibly reminded of the fact that he'd skipped dinner last night. Ron had still been in a mood and Hermione had been nagging him about finishing his Potions essay, so he'd elected to stay behind in the common room and avoid their combined tempers.
As luck would have it, breakfast was due to be on the tables in the next few minutes and Harry could already smell the warm blueberry muffins he was so partial to.
Entering the Great Hall, Harry saw that he was one of the first ones to arrive. A bleary eyed Hufflepuff was thumbing through a Herbology textbook and a pair of Ravenclaws were silently scribbling on pieces of parchment, but that was all. Harry picked a seat in the middle of the Gryffindor table and took a moment to just breathe. It turns out that trying to learn enough to survive a war was exhausting.
Perking up a bit when platters of food and silverware popped into being on the table, Harry added a muffin and some pieces of fruit to his plate. As he ate, other students began trickling in. The Gryffindor table slowly filled in around him, Lavender and Parvati whispering together to his right and a sleepy Neville mechanically eating to his left.
Harry let his mind wander while he ate. Monday was one of the easier days of the week, with just Potions and Defence classes to attend. This also meant that today was his first elemental training session. He'd listened to people chatter about their classes for the past week. Even though those who had manifested last year before the summer break had been slotted into weekend classes with their respective elemental mentor, this was the first time everyone who'd manifested in Harry's year was learning how to control their powers as part of their official curriculum.
Even though he was enrolled in classes with Vector after manifesting in March, Ron had been prone to setting random things on fire for months afterward, actually managing to beat Seamus' record for most fires in one month. There had been an almost audible sigh of relief from the student body the first time Ron had managed to make it through the week with no incidents.
Harry could honestly say he'd never seen Neville happier, his regular elemental classes with Sprout in the greenhouses were doing him a world of good. Seamus, despite his particular proclivity for pyrotechnics, was excelling in classes with Flitwick. Dean could say the same of his lessons with Sinistra, and he did so often.
A strange mixture of emotions were swirling around in Harry's head in regards to his upcoming lesson with Rami — and potentially the Baron if the man intended to stick around.
Having cleared his plate, Harry was running out of reasons to stay in the Great Hall. There was still a decent amount of time before class started, so he planned to stay in an empty classroom until he had to attend Potions.
Mind made up, Harry collected his bag and swung his legs over the bench, heading for the great double doors that marked the exit.
"Harry!" Hermione reached out and grabbed his arm, halting him in his tracks.
Harry nearly groaned; how had he missed Hermione walking into the Great Hall?
"Where were you this morning? Have you eaten yet? Come sit with me, I want to talk about that essay for McGonagall," she said, trying to direct him back to the Gryffindor table.
Harry extricated his arm from her vice-like grip, rolling his shoulder a few times. "I got up early to finish that essay, I already ate breakfast, and now I'm going to go read up on the interaction between the valerian and lavender in Dreamless Sleep before Potions, all right?" he said.
Hermione frowned, narrowing her eyes at him. It took all the self-control Harry had to not wince. That was Hermione's patented look, the one that meant he was in for a lecture from her later, regardless of whether there were witnesses or not.
"Fine. See you in Potions," she said. Hermione pushed past him then, taking a seat near the end of the table.
Relieved to have escaped an immediate lecture, Harry hastily exited the Great Hall before anyone else could ambush him.
"You want me to do what?"
"Sit down, cross your legs, and center yourself," Rami repeated.
Center himself. That sounded eerily like clear your mind. Harry could still vividly remember all those hours he spent down in Snape's office trying to push the greasy bat out of his mind. Being told to clear his mind was often the only warning he'd gotten before his mind was unceremoniously broken into.
"I promise, lad, this isn't like Severus' method of teaching," Alex said.
Harry glared at the Baron. The ghost had, with uncannily good timing, floated into the room just as the last student had shut the door behind them.
"I'll join you, it's been a while since I've done this anyway," said Rami. She lowered herself down across from Harry and folded her legs. The Baron did the same, floating an inch or so off the ground.
Harry now had no choice but to join them. He sat down beside the Baron, the three of them forming a triangle of sorts.
"Take deep breaths. Relax your body. Let your magic out. Try to focus on your emotions and identify them. Are you feeling scared, worried, stressed? Name them and let them be," Rami directed, her voice the calmest that Harry had ever heard it. "Close your eyes and focus on what you can feel, what you can smell, what you can hear. Don't try to control your emotions, they are a part of you that deserves to be there."
Still feeling highly skeptical, Harry closed his eyes and let himself be. He could hear Rami's deep breaths and Alex's even ones. Does a ghost need to breathe? How can they breathe if they're mostly vapour? You need to breathe in order to speak, right?
Shaking his head, Harry got himself back on track. The smell of parchment and ink was still lingering in the air from the frantic notes scribbled down during Rami's lecture. He could feel the wooden floor beneath his legs and the softness of his robes beneath his hand. They had recently been washed, so the faint scent of detergent still wafted off them.
Turning his attention inward, Harry began to poke at and tease apart the ball of emotions that sat in his chest. Stress, for homework. Worry, because he didn't want to be found out. Hope, because he'd been handed the best chance he'd had yet to defeat Voldemort. Sorrow, for his fracturing relationship with Ron and Hermione. Joy, for his budding friendships with Dean, Neville, and Seamus. It still made him feel guilty that he'd not tried to cultivate closer relationships with them considering that they lived together. Nothing he hadn't expected to find there.
Harry took a few more deep breaths. The tension in his shoulders eased by degrees with every exhale. He felt calmer already, more at peace. His apprehension had melted away, replaced by a sense of belonging. Even his stress and worry seemed more muted.
"Better?"
"Yeah," Harry opened his eyes. "How did that help me so much?"
"An elemental has a deep connection with their element. They can either rule it, or be ruled by it. There is no middle ground and emotions are often their triggers," Rami said. "Elementals must learn how to connect with their emotions, how to detect their emotions, so they can tell when they're about to fly off the handle and lose their grip on their powers. It's a fine line to walk. Elementals often use this trick of centering themselves because it allows them to take a minute for themselves and reestablish their place in the world. If you can name something, it doesn't become as scary anymore. Naming emotions allows you to accept them and realize that while you may not like having them, they have a place inside you anyway."
"Emotional control will become paramount," Alex interjected, "When you start getting into the nuances of your power. Your element responds to you and your feelings. If you're scared, your element will try to defend you. If you're happy, your element will become playful. It's up to you to become one with your feelings and not allow them to rule you.
Harry nodded along. This made sense to him, accidental magic in kids worked on much the same principle. Making the glass disappear, apparating onto the roof, making a sweater shrink, those events had all happened when his emotions had gotten the better of him.
"So centering ourselves helps us to stay in control of our powers?" he asked.
"Exactly. The more often you can do it, the better. People usually choose to do it right before they go to bed," said Rami.
"Now," she said, standing up and stretching her back, "Let's apply that emotional awareness to control of your powers."
This was the part Harry had been waiting for. The Hogwarts library had plenty of literature on being an elemental, but no mention of a sixth element had been in any book Harry had cracked open. It spoke to his desperation that he'd visited the library every day in hopes of finding something new. It seemed like the Ministry had done a pretty thorough job eradicating any mention of a sixth element ever existing.
Harry stood up and brushed dust off the back of his pants. The Baron and Rami were whispering together by her desk and he was immediately suspicious. Alex eventually nodded and floated through the wall behind Harry.
"Where's he gone?".
"To get a friend."
"A friend?"
"The first time you met Alex, you got some impressions, right? Of his life?" Rami asked.
Harry merely nodded.
"Being able to witness the highlights of a ghost's life — the key moments, if you will — is but one aspect of your power. It would be inconvenient if you got pulled inside your own head every time you meet a new ghost, would it not? I want you to be able to consciously control whether or not you want to witness that highlight reel," Rami said.
Harry was a bit confused by that. He'd quite literally had no choice or warning when the visions from Alex's life had started. "How do I do that?"
The relaxed air that had surrounded Rami ever since she'd centered herself dropped off as she got back into teacher mode. "It boils down to intent. Do you want it to happen or don't you? Your magic follows your wishes to the letter. The more connected you are with your emotions, the more connected you are with your magic. To speak of one is to speak of the other. The more connected you are with your magic, the easier time you'll have of it when you direct your magic to do something. When you lose control of your emotions, you lose control of your magic. It's a vicious cycle."
"So I just have to keep my magic under control until I tell it to do something?"
"Exactly!" Rami clapped, proud that Harry had gotten it. "Magic is a tool. It's always there, but you can 'put it away' when you don't need it."
"Makes sense," Harry said. It did, in fact, make a lot of sense to him. Harry wondered why teachers at Hogwarts didn't cover this topic in class. A lot of things might have gone smoother for him if he'd known the relationship between emotions and magic before now.
"When the Baron comes back with his friend, I don't want you to look directly at her. We're testing your control, so only look when you feel ready," said Rami.
She had said that just in time, for immediately after she finished, Harry felt a chill on his back as the Baron reentered the classroom.
"I've brought company!" Alex said jovially.
"Hello, Harry," a soft voice sounded from behind his right ear. Harry could see a pair of legs hovering in the corner of his vision, but the owner was careful to stay out of sight. Meanwhile, Alex had moved around Harry and positioned himself next to Rami.
"May I introduce you to the Grey Lady," Alex said, making a low bow at his waist and sweeping his arm out in a grandiose fashion. A grin tugged at Harry's lips.
"Oh, stuff it, Alexander," the Grey Lady snapped, but Harry could hear a hint of laughter in her voice. "You may call me Helena, Harry. Of all the things in the world to call me, why the Grey Lady?"
"You have to admit, those first few centuries weren't the best —" Alex suddenly winced and made a highly tactful retreat behind Rami's back. "Wasn't my fault, it was Benedict!" he defended himself.
"I could curse that boy into oblivion for making this name stick," Helena sighed.
"Lovely," Rami interrupted before the squabbling couple could go any further. "I'm sure my boss has punished Benedict appropriately for his transgressions. Harry, turn and look at Helena whenever you're ready."
Helena Ravenclaw. Harry couldn't help but feel a little intimidated standing in the presence of a Founder's daughter. Any Ravenclaw he knew would kill for this opportunity. Perhaps not Luna, although Harry had a sneaking suspicion that Luna was already aware of the Grey Lady's true identity.
Harry knew bits and pieces of Helena's life already, simply because it had been so intertwined with the Baron's, but he didn't want to invade the rest of her privacy just because he couldn't get a handle on his powers.
Harry felt a bit like he was being shoved into the deep end. Sink or swim it was. He took a few centering breaths, reminding himself that his magic was his to control. He could still feel all of his stress and worry hovering in the background, but it wasn't overwhelming. Good. That was good. He could do this.
Magic is a tool. It's up to you what you do with it.
Turning slowly, Harry came face to face with the Grey Lady for the first time. Harry's breath caught as their eyes met.
Nothing happened.
Harry exhaled in relief. Invading the mind of every ghost he came across in Hogwarts was a surefire way to out himself.
Moments passed, and still Harry looked at Helena. This was the closest he'd ever been to the reclusive ghost, barring the visions he'd gotten from Alex. Death had clearly not dimmed her beauty. Her long cloak was open and pushed back from her shoulders, revealing that she wore a simple tunic paired with leggings, not the dress many students assumed she wore. A similarly unadorned belt was cinched around her middle. Leather boots encased her feet and a short length of twine kept her hair tied back.
Harry figured that a dress was probably impractical for someone on the run who's trying to hide from angry mothers and jilted, would-be lovers.
"Well done, Harry," Helena said softly.
It felt strange to have a measure of control, however small, over his magic. Harry had always viewed his magic as a separate entity that only happened to exist in him. His wand was the only conduit for controlling it, yet sometimes his magic chose to do its own thing.
"Congratulations. I must say it usually takes spirit elementals longer to gain control compared to others."
"Why is that?" Harry asked his mentor, glad to have an excuse to wrench his gaze away from the Grey Lady.
"Spirit elementals deal in life and death, they are our daily trade. Those forces are much more fluid and ever changing than, for example, earth or fire. Other elementals get to deal with constants. Death and life are both constants as well, but the line between the two frequently gets blurred. This translates to more grey area when it comes to controlling our powers," the Reaper explained.
Harry supposed she should know. As a Reaper, Rami quite literally straddled the line between life and death.
"Then again, the children of prophecies are absurdly overpowered. I still blame Julius for that Alexandria incident," muttered Rami.
Now that was something Harry did not want to think about. He'd always known that he and Voldemort would have to face off eventually, if only due to the other man's persistence, but knowing that it was Fated was something entirely different. Fate was unavoidable, choices were not. Harry's thoughts were about to wander down a very dark path when Rami's words suddenly registered with him.
"I'm sorry, did you say 'Alexandria incident'?" Harry asked incredulously.
Rami's eyes suddenly lit up with unholy glee. "Oh, this is a good one. So, this prophet told Julius the Idiot about…"
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