A/n: I shouldn't, so i did. A new chapter, I'm quite partial to HBP and that will hopefully encourage me to update more often.
Carthage.
15th June 763 BC
02:56 PM
The volunteer's body had been prepared for the ceremony, Izil need only complete the gruesome act now; she had no desire to participate in such an unthinkable evil but she served at the pleasure of her people and they had begged her to be theirs forever- a request she had no power to deny. The ceremonial markings contrasted starkly with her coffee coloured skin, their white limestone paste shining in the fading sunlight where they had been painted on her face and naked form.
As darkness covered the land off in the far horizon, Izil moved closer to Mother Ubab; she was the eldest person in the village, having seen a hundred and thirty-seven summers, and had volunteered to be part of the ceremony so her grand children's children might see the majesty of Izil. Mother Ubab had had all her hair shaved off and her body had been painted completely in red clay, the clay caking in the crevices created by the wrinkles left by time and life. Humbled by the offerings of a woman not much older than she, Izil kissed Mother Ubab on the lips and shut her eyes.
"You will be at peace," she whispered.
"I will sleep with peace," the woman responded, the ceremony had begun.
Izil burned sage and defused the essence about the abandoned courtyard, she chanted in a tongue forgotten by most as she worked, "I offer to thee this sacrifice, I offer to thee this life, I offer to thee this soul."
She picked up a vial of poison and walked over to Mother Ubab, she got on her knees beside the stone slab where the woman's body was laid out. She slowly fed the brew to Mother Ubab, forcing it into her mouth even when her body fought against her desire to be useful; this part was the reason why this ritual had been outlawed by their people for so long, why she had to complete the ritual in seclusion. Izil wept for the life she had taken, outstretching her hands to the heavens and screamed in the lost tongue, "Oh great spirits of the beyond, I give to you this soul, I give to you my beauty, I give to you a piece of myself. Do with all as you wish, bestow unto me the powers vested in the moon."
The moon had stretched across the sky and was now fully covering the sun, the darkness was complete as she repeated the words; begging the spirits to hear he cries. She ululated once, twice, thrice, "Oh, Great Diviner of life and death, hear me your humble servant."
There was a bright flash and a clap of thunder, before her stood a man with skin kissed by the sun and dark as the night sky; Izil bowed low, remaining on her knees and touching the floor with her forehead.
"Rise," the earth seemed to tremble as the man spoke, "let me see the beauty I am being offered." Slowly, modestly and cautiously Izil rose to her feet and the man grinned, "The berry of still waters." The man spoke in a tongue she had never heard but somehow she understood him, "This beauty I can work with."
"I hope my gift pleases," Izil spoke in her own tongue now.
"I will not take your beauty," the man turned away from her, moving around the slab where Mother Ubab's corpse lay. He held up a silencing finger, "I will use it to my ends." He nodded to himself, "I will take your womb."
"My womb?" Izil shook her head, "it has been at least sixty summers since I last bled."
"I will quicken it and you will bare me many daughters," the man nodded to himself, "each more beautiful and extraordinary than the last."
"I am but your servant."
"I must warn you," he paused for a moment, "there will someday be another who will envy your power and seek to surpass you, in doing so they will grow your power and cause you to bring great pain upon their children." The man extended his hand, "I will give to you now the means to defeat this being, but doing so will end all magic in this world."
"I don't understand-"
"If you speak this word it will end your enemy," he explained, "but evil will carry innocence with it into oblivion."
"If it is spoken by anoth-"
"Don't give too much away," the man wagged his finger, "my brothers would not like that very much."
"Yes, Great Diviner."
He pushed his thumb onto her forhead, "I anoint you Ta'lab, Kusuh, Salardi, Ala, Thoth, Kalfu, Ilargi, Artemis, Hors, Wu Gang, Ratih, Ay Ata, Bahloo, Hini, Ngalindi, Metztli, Ixbalanque, Awilix, Chía, Ka-Ata-Killi, Coniraya, Menily, Alignak, Pah and a thousand thousand more names."
A great surge of power coursed through her body as youth returned to her, her thighs moistening as her womb quickened. She got to her feet with power no man could take from her, she had evolved beyond this plane of existence but was anchored to it.
"Rise my child!" his voice shook the mountains at this point, "You are the moon that reaches across the sky to cover the sun, you will carry mountains in your hands and the breakers of norms in your womb! Rise my child, Mother of Langa, giver and taker of power, Master of the Deplorable Word."
~0~
Kurt grinned broadly as he exited the arrivals terminal at Heathrow International Airport, he was greeted by a cautious grin, "I take it Peru was a fruitful endeavour."
"Oh no," Kurt shook his head and shrugged, "it was basically a disaster, I'm not sure I learned anything."
"Then why the large grin?"
Kurt's smile turned bashful, "I'm just happy to see you."
"I missed you too," Finn grinned and hugged him tightly, "Look I love Ernie but he has nothing on you." His brother slung his arm over Kurt's shoulder, "He puts a limit on cuddle time."
"Why didn't I think of that?" Kurt face palmed, "I must be getting soft."
"Not around the middle," his brother hugged him again, "your abs won't quit."
"They're contractually obligated to serve out their full term," Kurt pursed his lips as they exited the terminal building, he looked around the pickup zone but couldn't see a car that was obviously for them, "how are we getting home?"
Finn grinned and produced a set of his father's car keys, "Guess who is licensed to drive in the United Kingdom."
"Being licensed by the Queen doesn't mean that you are able to drive me around," Kurt shook his head, "I don't want to die just yet."
"Calm your tits," Finn ushered him to his father's car, "I know what I'm doing, let's remember that I was almost a doctor."
"Considering medical school when you're ten doesn't make you almost a doctor," Kurt countered, "it barely makes you almost a med student."
"Don't worry," Finn leaned over and fastened Kurt's seatbelt for him, checked his mirrors and started the car. Mariah Carey's Fantasy blared from ever speaker, causing Kurt's heart to skip a beat when the beat dropped. Finn navigated the route from the airport to their home fairly well, when they came to the first red traffic light he leaned over to Kurt and whispered, "Why so serious?"
"Too soon," Kurt chuckled, relaxing in his seat.
"No such," Finn shook his head.
"Are you fucking serious?"
"No," Finn guffawed, "but I will be fucking Padma Patil by the end of the year."
"Good for you, good for her," Kurt shrugged, grabbing onto his seatbelt as Finn weaved his way between cars, moving from lane to lane, "if you live long enough to seal deal."
"Ninety-six can fuck it," Finn pursed his lips, "no way I'll kick the bucket."
"It rhymes, so it must be true." Kurt's whole body smiled as they turned back onto Grimmauld Place, the street where he'd grown up. The sight of his home made him giddy, he jumped out of the car and up the front stairs as soon as Finn put the car in park, bursting into the foyer he extended his arms to take in the magnificence of his home, "My love, I'm home."
"What's up?"
Kurt let out a yelp of shock, turning to see a bare chested Hipster Weasley brushing his teeth, "What are you doing here? Why aren't you at work? Why aren't you dressed?"
"You want those answered in that order or do you want to hug it out first?"
"If you touch me, I will cut your eyes out," Kurt crossed his arms.
"Cool," the young man nodded to himself, "I just took a shower and I couldn't remember which bathroom I left my toothbrush in, so I got a new one." He shrugged, "dragons don't need constant care, even when they are being held prisoner in an underground cave, so I only work three days a week. What was the last question?"
"What are you doing here?"
"I live here," Charlie furrowed his brow, "right?"
"Sure," Kurt shrugged, "I just thought you'd want to go live with your mother, seeing as she knows you're in the country and all."
"Moving out and then back in at the end of summer seemed like too much work," Kurt watched as he rolled his shoulders and stretched his deltoids, "How was Peru?"
"Peruvian," Kurt narrowed his gaze to a sharp glare, "did you say that you work three days a week?"
"Every other day, yeah," Hipster Weasley nodded.
Kurt smirked, "I'm cutting your pay in half."
"Cool story bro."
"I'm not joking," Kurt's smirk turned malevolent, "or I'll start paying you by the hour."
"What am I supposed to do when the dragon doesn't need me?" he gaped at Kurt, "teach her to play cards?"
"As I recall, you are supposed to be studying dragons and this is a work-study," Kurt shrugged sarcastically, "maybe try that instead of walking around my house naked."
"I'm wearing boxers, not naked!" Charlie called out after Kurt as he turned on his heels and made his way downstairs. Kurt found Finn reclined on the couch and joined him in front of an indistinguishable action movie.
"Are you physically incapable of being civil with non-Hermione people?" Finn asked him without turning away from the TV.
Kurt rolled his eyes, "non-Hermione people are terrible, just look at yourself."
"I'm fucking amazing," Finn grinned.
"But we're practically perfect in every way," Kurt flashed the boy a sly grin, "the only other person who can claim the same is fictional."
"You want to compare yourself to Mary Poppins?"
"Feed the birds, tuppence a bag," Kurt sang in a high lilted voice, "tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag."
Finn pursed his lips malevolently, "Feed the birds and what do you have?"
"Fat birds," they chorused with a chuckle.
"This is why you're one of my top three favourite siblings," Kurt gave his brother a friendly pat on the shoulder.
"Wow," Finn scoffed, "Top three? I'm second, aren't I?"
"Harley Drew sets things on fire," Kurt shrugged, "and she listened when I instructed her to go into exile."
"Then who would watch your back?" Finn scooted closer on the couch and threw his arm over Kurt's shoulder.
"Someone disposable," Kurt shook out of his brother's grasp, "I'd find someone."
"…don't go chasing waterfalls, please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you're used to…" Charlie half hummed, half sung the song with earbuds connected to Kurt's discarded Walkman in his ears.
"Like Hipster Wealsey?" Finn suggested.
"No," Kurt spoke in a deadpan tone, "if Hipster Weasley died I would be devastated."
"Before I go back to pretending I didn't hear that, I just wanted to let you know that mum is expecting us for dinner," he replaced the earbuds and continued mumbling the TLC song. Kurt gaped at him till he twirled on his way to the refrigerator, he removed the earbuds once more, "what?"
"Why is your mother expecting me when I haven't told anyone I'm back in the country?"
"Was it some kind of secret?"
Kurt rolled his eyes, "Tonight I was going to soak in the tub and get red wine drunk."
"I can cancel," Charlie shrugged.
"No Hipster Weasley," Kurt scolded, "you can't cancel dinner on someone this late in the day, especially not if they're cooking."
"So we're on?"
"Yes," Kurt rolled his eyes, "are they at number twelve or The Burrow?"
"The Burrow."
Kurt got up and stormed to the refrigerator, opening it and grinning, "I'll just have to get white wine drunk."
"You're going to my parent's house drunk?"
"It's not like I need to make an impression," Kurt shrugged, "I'm going to wash the third world off my body, later bitches."
"You are something…"
"Something special," Kurt agreed.
~0~
Kurt, Finn and Hipster Weasley arrived at the burrow to find their peers seated around the kitchen table; he was surprised to find Hermione there, waiting for him. She got to her feet and hugged him tightly, "I missed you."
"I missed you too," he rocked her from side to side as he spoke, "you should have come with me."
"There'll be plenty of time for that later," she smiled politely as she let him go, "you smell like wine."
"There's more in my purse," Kurt winked at her. He turned to the room of waiting people, "Ronald, Harry."
"Kurt," the pair grinned broadly, extending their arms to him.
"How have you two been?"
"Good," Ron shrugged.
"Broody," Harry countered.
Kurt let out a little chuckle, "you didn't get up to any mischief while I was gone?"
"Harry took up riding trains," Ron tattled.
Harry glared at him, "Ron learned to read."
"My brother's dating Fleur Delacour," Ron tried to cover up his mistake, "Bill."
"Sounds like quite the summer," Kurt shook his head, "you'll have to tell me more about it later." Kurt patted Ginny on the head as he moved toward Mrs Weasley, who was berating Charlie on everything from his clothes to his overgrown hair.
"Oh Kurt," she held an opened envelope in her hands, "congratulations."
"Thank you," Kurt nodded, a polite smile fixed on his face, "What'd I do?"
"Fourteen Outstanding OWLs," she handed him the envelope, "I couldn't help myself."
"You could help yourself," Kurt kept a polite smile on his face but was seething, "you just chose mail fraud." He looked over the embossed lavender stationary, the sheet had a shimmering gold boarder and there his results were in small uniform print, "Outstanding pass in every subject, perfect score for Charms, even did well in Divination."
"You're top of our year," Hermione beamed at him, "you have an average of ninety percent."
"Ninety point five-eight," Kurt corrected. He turned to Hermione, "You?"
"Fourteen Outstanding passes," she flipped her hair, "eighty-nine point nine-one." She brushed imaginary dirt off her shoulder, "I beat Tracey, she got eighty-nine point eight-nine."
Kurt chewed his lip, "Shit, that was close."
"She got a perfect score in Transfiguration and Potions," Hermione shook her head, "she's a machine."
"I almost got a perfect score in Dark Arts," an awkward silence fell over the room.
"Well…"
Kurt turned to Hipster Weasley with a threatening finger extended as a warning, "Don't you fucking dare."
"You were asking for it," he smirked.
"I was about to add that this is also true for History of Magic and Defence Against the Dark Arts," Kurt crossed his arms, "How you like them apples?"
"I'm allergic."
"Kurt is the last person I would share my weaknesses with," Ron chortled.
"Oh," Kurt quirked a curious brow, "and how many eligibles did you get?"
"Four," Ron's shoulders slumped, then his ears peaked up again, "one is for Potions, because Snape wanted an Outstanding Pass."
"You failed three subjects?"
"No," his mother huffed with her hands on her hips, "just Divination and History of Magic." Her gaze shot to Harry as she spoke, "he's eligible for concession in Charms where he received an Acceptable pass."
"You as well?" Kurt snapped at Harry with his arms crossed.
"I got an Exceeds Expectations in Charms," Harry held his hands up in surrender, "Divination… and Potions, well… Fred and George didn't let us finish our History of Magic OWL."
"This is their fault?" Mrs Weasley squeaked.
"No," Kurt shook his head, "most other students finished their exams, they were probably going to fail anyway."
"I assume you'll both be repeating History of Magic?"
"What on earth for?" Charlie scoffed, "useless subject."
"When we want your opinion, we will ask for it," Kurt snapped, he handed the young man his bag, "would you pour us some wine."
"Sure," he shrugged, "I nothing but to please your fantasy."
"Rawr," Hermione wagged a suggestive brow.
"That's from Othello," Kurt rolled his eyes.
"Yes," Hermione nodded, "that's why I reacted the way I did, Emilia says it of her husband."
"Don't do this now," Kurt shook his head, "not in front of the children."
"I'm fifteen," Ginny whined, getting up and storming out of the room; Mrs Weasley followed her, comforting her.
"I'm not touching that," Kurt shook his head.
They all watched the pair go, then Hermione turned to him, "Did I mention that Neville crossed the NOut?"
"That's my baby," Kurt clapped his hands, "I raised that."
"He even got an eligible in Potions," Hermione exclaimed, "Mandy told me everyone's grades when she called me this morning."
"How did Miranda do?"
"Eighty-Eight, Padma got Eighty-nine point one," she explained, "Lisa got eighty-seven."
"How were her O-Levels?" Kurt couldn't help the smile that had spread across his face, "is she going to be surgeon or not?"
"She got straight As," Hermione shook her head, "she has her choice of A-Level subjects."
"Who else was in the top ten?"
"Blaise Zabini, Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein," she counted them off on her fingers, "Neville and Susan Bones tied tenth."
Kurt smirked, turning to Ron and Harry, "All this could have been yours, if only you'd listened to me for the last five years."
"That seems like a little too much work," Charlie interjected, handing them each a glass of white wine. Kurt shot him a glare, "right, silent."
"Now Harry has to go beg Snape to let him into Potions or he'll never be an auror," Kurt explained.
"What?"
"You need a NEWT in Potions to become an auror," Hermione explained.
"Were you not paying attention during your career consultation session?"
"Were you?"
"Yes," Kurt scoffed, "that's why I got straight As on my O-Level exams too." He pursed his lips, "gonna kill my Maths, Economics and History A-Levels and get into Oxford."
"Your life is so much better put together than mine," Harry's head hung in shame.
"I keep a very detailed day planner," Kurt smirked.
"I'm bored of this conversation," Finn groaned downing his wine and holding up his glass for Charlie to refill it.
"That's what happens when you don't participate," Hermione ran her fingers through his hair, reaching across the table to where he'd laid his head in the crook of his elbow.
"I got an Exceeds Expectations in everything except Potions and Care for Magical Creatures," He didn't sit up as he spoke, "not much to say, everyone got an Outstanding in Care for Magical Creatures."
"So what?" Charlie puffed his chest out, "It doesn't count?"
"That's exactly what it means," Kurt pursed his lips, downed his wine and held out his empty glass, "Can you imagine what would become of the world if Professor Snape gave every Tom, Dick and Harry an Outstanding in Potions?"
"Hey," Harry protested the use of his name, "I am an above average potioneer."
"See," Kurt pointed his finger at Harry, "Above average, not outstanding."
"It would make Professor Snape more popular," Charlie countered, "that, and some shampoo."
"Maybe then he'd finally get the Defence Against the Dark Arts post," Hermione giggled.
"Play nice," Kurt reprimanded him.
"When have you ever played nice?" Finn shouted, rising to a sitting position and pointed an accusatory finger at him.
"I'm the nicest brother you have," Kurt shrugged.
Ron nodded, "Besides, we don't know what went wrong in Professor Snape's life for him to end up where he is."
"Yes we do," Harry shook his head.
"Right," Ron nodded to himself, "he was a Death Eater."
"But that's none of our business," Hermione shut down that conversation.
There was a moment of silence and then several of them moved at the same time, in an attempt to resuscitate the conversation. Ultimately it was Harry who won out, peaking Kurt and Hermione's interested, "I met the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, he's batshit crazy."
"An eccentric," Hermione nodded to herself, "when did you meet him?"
"How did you know he was being hired for Defence Against the Dark Arts?" Kurt crossed his arms.
"Who is it?" Charlie added, receiving curious nods.
"I was with Dumbledore when he asked him to return to his position," Harry explained, "Professor Slughorn."
"Horace Slughorn is a potions master," Kurt corrected, to blank faces, "he was in the job before Professor Snape, was Head of Slytherin House before Professor Snape too." There was a chorus of nods but the question hung in the air, "he wrote a lot of the comments for the past Slytherins in the Hall of Records."
"Why were you-"
Ron placed a hand on his best friend's shoulder and shook his head, "Don't embarrass yourself this way."
"Does he always have to know everything?" Harry countered, throwing his arms in the air, "he even knew my prophecy before I did."
"I heard it the same time you did," Kurt shrugged defensively, "I was just aware of it before you were."
Charlie narrowed his gaze and smirked in Kurt's direction, "What else do you know?"
"That Professor Slughorn is probably back because he taught Tom Riddle," Kurt's smirk matched Charlie's, "Professor Dumbledore probably thinks he knows what Tom Riddle's diary was."
Hermione gaped at him, "do you know what it is?"
"I don't think it matters," Kurt shrugged, "Professor Dumbledore has chosen his path to solving the Voldemort problem, and I have mine."
"You?" Hipster Weasley scoffed.
"Don't talk down to my Kurt that way," Ron scolded his older brother.
"Thank you Ronald," Kurt beamed at his friend, "And as for you." Kurt turned to Hipster Weasley, "Yes, I have a potential solution to the Voldemort problem, because I haven't canonised the headmaster and believe there may be flaws in his plan."
"What kind of flaws?" Hermione narrowed her gaze and furrowed her brows.
"The fact that it hinges on a sixteen year old who isn't completely in the loop on the role he has to play, or fully briefed on how he's expected to perform in the aforementioned role," Kurt shook his head, "I don't know if that sounds like a solid plan to you, but I'd like to have a backup just in case that doesn't pan out."
"You know that isn't fair," Harry grumbled.
"No offense babes," Kurt flashed him a sympathetic smile.
"Not what you said about me," Harry shook his head, "I haven't been properly briefed. The part about Dumbledore," Kurt quirked a curious brow, "you can't open with the fact that we've canonised him, because then any defence we might mount on his behalf just reinforces that claim."
Kurt pursed his lips, trying not to laugh, "How long have you been keeping that under your hat?"
"A year," Harry chuckled, "since the first time you said that we'd canonised him. I had to look up what it meant, then Lisa helped me get the language just right."
"There might be hope for you yet," Kurt grinned, sipping his wine.
"That's cool and all," Hipster Weasley interjected, "but what is your plan?"
"Have you ever read The Magician's Nephew?" Finn crossed his arms, a proud grin on his face.
"No."
"Well, there is a spell mentioned in that book that Kurt is going to find and use on Voldy."
Charlie nodded to himself, "what does the spell do?"
"When Queen Jadis used it, it killed every living thing except for her," Finn spoke nonchalantly.
"It's called The Deplorable Word," Kurt grinned, the shadow of malevolence rearing its head into his facial expression.
"Kurt," Charlie shook his head, "I don't like this, I don't want to die." Then he furrowed his brows, "Isn't your grandmother named Jadis?"
"She is," Kurt nodded, "that's actually how I knew it was real."
"If she-"
"The Magician's Nephew is a fiction book," Hermione explained, "and apparently, the spell doesn't do exactly that." She rolled her eyes, "we suspect that it works similarly to the dementor's kiss."
"Are you guys fucking with me?" Harry shook his head, as did the rest of the group, "you can't be serious, what do… I don't know, my parents think of this?"
"Who knows?" Ron shrugged, "You're free to ask them, might get you sent to St Mungo's though."
"What would you tell them?" Harry quirked a curious brow, and it seemed as though Kurt himself was speaking, "that Kurt is planning on performing the dementor's kiss on Voldemort using a spell he read about in a muggle children's book?"
"That does sound crazy."
"I would never kiss the Dark Lord," Kurt shook his head, "He doesn't have a nose."
Finn put up his hand like they were in a classroom, "Why doesn't he have a nose?"
"And why does everyone recognise him without one?" Ron threw his hands up, glad to finally be discussing a matter that had been bothering him, "it's almost like he never had one."
"No," Harry shook his head, "he had one, looked like Kurt's."
"We saw it in the Chamber of Secrets," Kurt nodded along with Harry, "he actually looked quite a bit like me."
"Then what happened to it?" Ron screamed, grabbing tufts of his hair, "did he lose it from doing too much black magic?"
"No," Kurt shook his head, holding his own nose, "that can't be right. Bellatrix, Rudolphus and Rebastan all still have their noses." Kurt shook his head, "and I've never heard anything about Grindewald not having a nose."
"But he must have lost it before his fall on Halloween," Ron shook his head, "You said that Fudge said he was back, none of you told him that was Voldemort. That means he looks the same, so what happened to his nose?"
"Maybe," Hermione grinned, "You should get curious and go to the library."
Ron shook his head, "I'm not that curious, I barely do magic so my nose is safe."
Hipster Weasley shot a pointed look in Kurt's direction, "Kurt, you're obviously going to look into this, so you can… know and tell the rest of us."
"I'm sorry," Kurt scoffed, "but if memory serves, you work for me."
"I work for Gringotts Wizarding Bank," Charlie countered.
"And do you think they would still have you if I decided I liked my dragon tortured and in pain?"
"Good one devil," Charlie nodded, accepting defeat.
"Wow," Hermione shook her head, "just when we'd gotten past the thing with Ron."
"You're telling me," Harry slumped in his seat, "we're supposed to be on vacation."
"Were we like that?" Ron gaped.
"Worse," Finn groaned, "you were a year round extravaganza."
"Kurt," Hermione held him by the hand, "have you considered that maybe you're the problem?"
"No, never."
~0~
The Glen, Scotland.
24th June 989.
11:04 AM.
Rowena leaned on the barrier between the edge of the balcony and the three story drop to the ground, her ankles were swollen and her back was killing her but she would not miss today's eclipse for anything. She had always had a fondness of the celestial event; for as long as she could remember, she would climb up to this very terrace to watch as the moon stretched her hand over the sun- it reminded her of her mother, despite having no memories of the woman. A fear washed over her and she placed her hands on her rounding belly. Rowena had never truly had a mother, now here she was with child and no way of knowing how to be a mother; what kind of fate did that leave her child? What kind of upbringing would she be able to give a child, having never had a real one herself?
"Good morning Rowena," she was ripped from her thoughts by the voice, she turned to see a haggard and unkempt man standing between her and the door. She looked closer at the man, finding that there was something behind the overgrown, yellow nails and the uncombed hair. A sliver of familiarity behind the curtain of white facial hair, masked by the marriage of poor hygiene and pride- a combination that she hoped never to see again.
The man stepped closer, "Oh, don't say you don't recognise me." His words hissed as he spoke, but she had never known anyone with a lisp, "it is me, your Salazar."
Her eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open, "Salazar? What has become of you?"
"I've become enlightened," he let loose a manic giggle, "I have pulled back the veil and seen the truth."
"And so you stopped bathing?"
He shook his head, "I have left all my worldly attachments behind, they served only to cloud my vision."
"And as a result you leave a cloud of dust everywhere you go," Rowena grimaced, the smell was truly foul, "Why are you here? I don't think your wife would appreciate this meeting."
"I have long since let Oestara go her own way," he shook his head, "she was holding me back from my destiny."
"I hate to say it," Rowena turned away from the man, hoping for a breath of fresh air, "but I envy her. Would you be a dear and leave me behind as well?"
"I haven't come here for you," the man shook his head.
"This is my house," Rowena scolded, "Who else would you have come here for?"
Salazar extended a crooked finger in her direction, pointing to her distended belly, "I came for that."
"This has nothing to do with you," Rowena crossed her arms, "it is none of your business."
"But it is my business," the man hissed back at her, "For you carry a child that will carry my name."
"Unless there is another child in here that I don't know about, there is no child of mine that will carry your name," she let out a small chuckle, "look at yourself, no sane person would give the name of a mad man to their child."
"I'm not mad," he snapped, "I'm enlightened!"
"Potato, tomato."
"Those two things aren't the same," the man furrowed his brow.
"What have you become Salazar?" she shook her head in disbelief, "I see none of the man I knew in you."
"That man was weak! He's gone now."
"That man was a well-respected wizard," she countered, "his name has gone down in history and has been immortalised in the halls of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You are not that man, you are not this child's father."
"You cannot keep that child from me," he smiled, flashing her a mouth full of rotten teeth. Rowena wondered how a man so formidable had fallen so far, so quickly, "you cannot deny me to them."
"Her," Rowena corrected absentmindedly, "it's a girl."
"The Daughter of the Serpent," he smirked, rubbing his hands malevolently.
"No," Rowena shook her head, "If the man I knew is gone, then so is her father." She puffed out her chest and seemed to grow in height, "she will carry with her the sigil of the Ravenclaw family, she will be an eagle just like her mother and serpents will know to fear her."
"You cannot keep me from my child."
"Do you want to see me do it?" she scoffed, "Would you like to test your powers against mine?" she leaned forward, smiling so as to bare all her teeth, "No matter how enlightened you may be, I have stared down Anais Haddad-Schmidt and come out victorious. I will always be twice the wizard you will ever be."
"You dare to speak to me this way?"
"You want to try and stop me?" she gave a small bow of her head, "be my guest."
"You will rue this day," He shook his head.
She echoed his movement, "I will not rue it alone, you will be overcome by great sorrow for the man you were and the things you lost to black magic." She squared her shoulders, "if even a sliver of the man I knew still lives, I know it to be the only truth he has left in his life."
"That fool is dead."
"Then what remains in his place will regret the day it crossed Rowena Ravenclaw," she smiled, "whatever remains of you will be crushed by whatever remains of me, I cast this curse on you and all that you believe."
"And what if I believe in you?"
"Then I shall perish by my own hand."
~0~
Kurt exited Flourish and Blotts with a bundle of all his set work in his arms, he handed the bag to Finn, "That is everything we'll need for this year, I look forward to a reduced course load."
"You're telling me," Ron beamed at him, "First day back, I have first period free."
"And you'll be using that time to find out about repeating History of Magic," Kurt scolded him, "If you don't do it, I will. Nobody wants that."
"What do you have against free periods?" Ron shook his head at him.
"Nothing," Kurt grinned, "I actually have that period free too."
"No Ancient Runes or Arithmancy for you?" Harry quirked a curious brow.
Kurt shook his head, "and certainly no Divination."
"I thought Hermione liked Ancient Runes and Arithmancy," Harry shrugged.
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Well…" Harry nervously scratched the back of his neck, "don't you two take the same classes?"
"Prior to this year we were taking all the classes offered at Hogwarts," Hermione smirked, "there isn't a precedence for that assumption."
"Fine," Harry waved them off, "so you two are going separate ways?"
"Hermione has decided to pursue that path," Kurt shrugged, "I chose Magical Theory and Dark Arts instead."
"Will they still be offering Dark Arts?" Finn grinned excitedly.
"I wrote Professor Dumbledore many letters about it," Kurt nodded, "I eventually wore him down."
"I'm not surprised," Hermione scoffed, "I've read some of your letters of complaint."
Kurt shrugged, "I will not be deprived of the school experience that I deserve just because some tit has decided to start a Wizarding War." He crossed his arms and turned up his nose indignantly, "it's like how they tried to discontinue Alchemy because of the fact that only six students pre-registered."
"I was supposed to pre-register?" Finn chewed his lower lip.
Kurt narrowed his gaze to a glare, "You tit."
"I'm not a tit," the boy puffed out his chest, "I'm a bird of paradise."
"That's a type of flower," Hermione and Kurt chorused.
"Neville bought some for Mandy as a good luck gift before her biology O-Level," Hermione explained.
"Proving once and for all, that Neville is a great boyfriend," Kurt added.
"I'm sure that is part of the reason Mandy is having sex with him," Hermione giggled.
"The rest of the reason being that she wants to," Kurt interjected before anyone could ask, "and also, fuck you."
"Why fuck us?" Ron gaped.
"Feels like something Mandy would say," Kurt shrugged.
"Definitely something Mandy would say," Finn concurred, "that's just so her."
Hermione stopped in her tracks, "Oh no, not Olivanders."
Kurt's attention was called to the destroyed store front, "Another victim of the times." Kurt shook his head, "terrible business."
"I heard my dad discussing it with Kingsley," Ron explained, his voice dropping to a whisper, "apparently Fenrir Greyback, the notorious werewolf, and some other Death Eaters came to take him away in broad daylight."
"Wow," Kurt gaped, "do all werewolves have names that are related to their affliction?"
"I don't know what you mean," Ron shook his head.
"Fenrir was a monstrous wolf from Norse Mythology," Harry explained.
"Thank you Harry," Kurt grinned, "that's twice now that you've had information on Norse history or mythology, depending on how you view it."
"Twice?" Harry furrowed his brow.
"In first year you suggested Ragnar as a name for Norberta," Kurt nodded to himself, "provided some exposition on the carvings on his longboats, none of this rings a bell?"
"Nope," He shrugged, "whatever."
"Why would Death Eaters kidnap a wand maker?" Finn asked.
"Maybe they needed more powerful wands," Ron suggested.
Kurt shook his head, "the idea that there is such a thing as a more powerful wand is false, there is better matched wand that will allow you to better channel your magic but the wand itself isn't more or less powerful than another, simply more compatible with the witch's magical signature."
"Thank you Kurt," Finn smirked, "for boring us."
"I'm sorry, but would you like to act as your own exposition going forward?" the boy shook his head, "then shut up."
"Everyone got their wands from Ollivander's," Hermione let out a tired sigh, "it was one of those places… it was a fixture in our society."
"Monuments rise and fall," Kurt shrugged, "Gregorovich's day came and went."
"Kurt!" Hermione scolded.
"I'm not saying it isn't sad that he was kidnapped," Kurt rolled his eyes, "I was going for a hopeful tone, that a new day would come." He gestured around them, "Look at this place, so many of the stupid shops I didn't go into have closed down. Then look at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, a new shop thriving in spite of adversity."
"This whole place looks like Nocturn alley now," Harry agreed, "but after the rain, though her leaves may be wet, the flower turns her face to the sun, triumphant."
"Poetic," Kurt chuckled, "Should we start calling you 'Harry, the Bard'?"
"Like Beedle the Bard," Ron grinned merrily.
The group exchanged blank stares, "Who?"
"Babbitty Rabbitty and Her Cackling Stump? The Wizard and the Hopping Pot?" Ron gaped, none of their faces lighting up in recognition, "What kind of childhoods did you have without Beedle the Bard?"
"Muggle ones," Finn pointed out.
"We listened to stories by Hans Christian Anderson and the Brothers Grimm," Hermione explained in a more friendly tone, "although I sometimes suspect Kurt was raised on Stephen King novels."
"Dean Koontz actually," Kurt deadpanned.
Finn crossed his arms challengingly, "What kind of childhood did you have without television?"
"Touché," Ron nodded.
"Look," Finn pointed across the alley, "there go Malfoy and his mummy. Kurt, is it time for a family reunion?"
"I will punch you in the throat," Kurt growled.
"They are looking hella shifty," Ron commented.
"I get it," Kurt rolled his eyes, "my family is evil."
"No," Ron shook his head, "look at how they're looking around and trying too hard to be inconspicuous."
"Considering the patriarch of their family was recently tried very publicly for being a Death Eater after denying accusations for fifteen years, I understand why they don't want to draw attention to themselves," Kurt scolded, "maybe we should mind our own business."
"They just turned into Nocturn Alley," Hermione interjected.
Kurt let out a defeated groan, "and we're going to follow them, aren't we?"
"I'm curious," Harry smirked.
"Where is this curiosity when we're going to the library?" Hermione teased. They started moving but Kurt stayed routed in place, "Kurt?"
"You guys can violate Draco and Narcissa's privacy but I can't," Kurt shook his head, "they didn't sign up for this, Lucius did."
"Kurt?" Harry furrowed his brow, "we have to see why they turned down Nocturn Alley."
"If Kurt's not going, I'm out," Finn shrugged, hanging back with his brother.
"They haven't done anything to warrant being followed," Kurt shook his head. He took a deep breath, "their only crime at this point is being related and married to the wrong person." Kurt crossed his arms and puffed out his chest, "I can't treat them like that's a crime, I don't want to be a hypocrite."
"So-"
"Go," Kurt turned on his heels, "meet us at Fred and George's shop when you're done."
~0~
There was a soft knocking on Kurt's bedroom door, he opened the door with a reproachful look on his face. He wanted Finn to know that he didn't appreciate being disturbed during his personal time, he was surprised to find that it wasn't Finn at his door, "What do you want? I'm in the process of completing the arduous task of putting contact paper on my textbooks."
"Oh," Hipster Weasley swallowed loudly, "I can come back, it can wait."
"Is the dragon dead?" Kurt rolled his eyes, "I've already left my work, so you might as well tell me."
The young man let out a heavy sigh, "kind of seems silly, given that you're busy and everything."
"Spit it out," Kurt growled.
"I was hoping you could help me with my hair," Hipster Weasley rambled eventually.
"I can't do anything to stop you from being a ginger," Kurt shook his head, "even with all the hair dye in the world, you'll still smell like copper."
Charlie nodded for a moment, twiddling his thumbs, "I have made peace with smelling like a coppery old boot." He knitted his fingers together, "but I was thinking more along the lines of a haircut, I figured you would be better at it than my mother."
"Succumbing to the pressures of your mother, real mature."
Charlie smirked, "do you really think so little of me?" Kurt nodded, "I walked right into that one. My supervisor at work made a very pointed suggestion that I deal with," Charlie gestured to his shoulder length hair, "I don't know if you can help me with that because I'd really appreciate it."
"Give me a moment," Kurt let out a defeated sigh, "I need to gather my supplies, wait for me in the bathroom downstairs."
Kurt walked over to his closet, his footsteps were slow and small- demoralised. He collected his vanity case and for a moment he paused, looking at the hair tie he had pocketed years ago with no real use for it; his impulses saw him taking it and putting it in his pocket once more, a small smile spreading across his face at the memories it carried.
Kurt open the bathroom door to find Charlie shaking nervously from the chair that he'd moved to the centre of the room, "I won't butcher you, people will know this is my work." He cracked a comforting smile, "Besides, I'm not really in the Sweeney Todd mood."
"I haven't cut my hair short since…" he shuddered, "since mum did it before the Quidditch World Cup, I've long history of bad haircuts with mum."
"Relax," Kurt put a hand on his shoulder, "I have experience, I cut Finn's hair and maintain my fifty pound haircut."
"That is a heavy haircut," Hipster Weasley grinned.
"You're not funny," Kurt gestured for him to move his chair closer to the sink.
"What are we doing?" He did as he was instructed, "You know I don't have lice."
Kurt rolled his eyes, "I know what I'm doing. Now, take your shirt off." Charlie followed Kurt's instructions and sat in the seat when Kurt gestured for him to do so. Kurt laid a towel across Charlie's broad shoulders and adjusted the chair, getting it to recline slightly, "lean back and tell me how you feel about the water's temperature."
Kurt screwed in the handheld shower from his vanity case and ran the water cold, Charlie giggled, "cold." Kurt increased the water's temperature, "perfect."
Kurt lathered the young man's long hair with shampoo, "I'm not doing this because I think you have lice, I just find it easier to cut hair when it's wet." He let out a tired sigh, "and the tension is leaving your body, making my job easier."
"Cool," Charlie nodded, "this shampoo smells really good, smells like Christmas."
"Don't move your head," Kurt scolded him, holding his head in place. He rinsed the shampoo out of the young man's hair, "When last did you condition your hair?"
"When did I last…"
"Okay," Kurt nodded to himself, he messaged conditioner into his scalp, "I'm surprised it grew this long and thick without proper care."
"I'm not a savage," Charlie countered, "I wash it."
"But do you give it the attention it deserves?"
"And, pray tell, what does it deserve?"
"To be deep conditioned, to be treated with essential nourishing oils," Kurt shrugged, "to be loved." He leaned up against the wall as he waited for the conditioner to do what it was supposed to do, "your hair is like a child, it needs to be looked after and certain regiments need to be in place for it to grow strong."
"And you know what children need?"
"Yes," Kurt smiled, "every child needs five basic essentials to grow up right; sunshine, water, a balanced nutritional diet, fresh air and love."
"What makes you such an expert?" the young man was smirking at him now.
"I know things," Kurt turned up his nose, "I don't know if Ron's told you this, but I'm quite knowledgeable as to what is best for the children."
"He's mentioned it," Hipster Weasley chuckled, "it was his justification when he made Ginny cry by referring to her as 'the children'."
"Ginny is in quite the precarious position," Kurt shook his head.
"How so?"
"Everyone in her life sees her as a child, while she sees herself as being grown," Kurt let out a tired sigh, "that can catalyse risky behaviour."
Charlie cracked his knuckles, "You don't think she's going to get possessed again?"
"No," Kurt shook his head, "she'll try to prove to the world that she's grown and she'll just end up hurting herself."
"You are quite wise," Charlie gaped at him.
"I was almost in Ravenclaw," Kurt preened at the praise. He messaged Charlie's scalp again before gently rinsing the conditioner from his hair, "comes with the territory."
Kurt lifted the towel from Hipster Weasley's shoulders and gently towelled the man's hair, "You have a soft touch."
"Some people are tender headed," Kurt shrugged, "some people need a little kindness."
"What do you need?"
"I need…" Kurt's breath caught for a moment, "I need… I haven't asked myself that question in so long that I don't know what I need." Kurt combed the red hair, it hung past his shoulders in its straight wet form, "I can tell you what I want in a heartbeat, but what I need…"
"What do you want?"
"For this to be over," Kurt started to trim the tips off the hair, using the comb to keep it uniform length, "I'd like to move on with my life." Kurt shook his head, "I want- I'm ready for the next chapter in my life."
"I'm sure you know this but there's no harm in hearing it again," Charlie grinned, "this too shall pass."
Kurt moved Hipster Weasley's head forward, revealing the nape of his neck, "thank you." Kurt plugged the clippers into the socket and their hum drowned out his loud thoughts, he buzzed the hair short for an area staring at the top of Charlie's neck and extended to the line created by the tops of his ears. Kurt put down the clippers and replaced their hum with the droning of the hairdryer, he worked meticulously to blow out Hipster Weasley's remaining hair.
Once Kurt was done he handed the young man a hand mirror, "you didn't cut very much of it." He grinned as he gave his jawline length hair a once over, "not sure my boss will like it, I love it."
Kurt realised for the first time that he had cut the hair how he thought it should be, forgetting the parameters he had been given, panic washed over him for a moment as he tried to reconcile what he'd done with what he'd been asked for. Kurt pulled his hand from his pocket where he'd been fiddling with the old hair tie, he grabbed handfuls of Charlie's hair and twisted it into a bun and used the hair tie to secure it.
"There," Kurt smiled at his own reflection in the hand mirror, "the best of both worlds."
"My boss can't complain about this," Charlie chuckled.
"And in your free time you still have something to run your fingers through," Kurt smirked.
"Thank you Kurt," Hipster Weasley beamed up at him.
The smile made his heart catch as he thought back to the last person whose hair he'd cut in this bathroom, "You'll be fine to clean up?"
"Sure," the young man's smile fell.
"I have things to be getting back to," Kurt turned before Charlie could say anymore. He climbed the stairs and knocked on the door next to his, Finn's face was worn from sleep but Kurt couldn't bring himself to care as he enveloped his brother in a hug, "I miss Harley, I miss them all so much."
~0~
Kurt entered Professor Slughorn's reserved train car with Hermione and Harry following closely behind him, he wore a broad smile on his face and carried a gift basket in his hands; Since Harry's confession that the Headmaster intended for Professor Slughorn to 'collect' him as a means to get information, presumably on Tom Riddle's diary, Kurt had decided that he would make a better collectable. He was pedigreed, had accrued some fame for himself, was powerful and revered in many academic circle, had been made a prefect, and he knew how to schmooze.
The basket contained cheeses from his grandparent's farm, a few bottles of wine from his personal cellar, a bottle of fifty year old scotch from his father's private reserve, and candied pineapple; he'd learned of the potions master's love of the sweet treat from Andromeda, a former student of his. The sea of students filling the train car parted as Kurt moved through the cart toward his mark, the walrus-like man was talking to Tracey Davis when they stepped up to him.
"Good day," Kurt smiled broadly, "I thought I'd come by and introduce myself, I'm Kurt Elizabeth Hummel."
"Ah," the rotund man nodded vigorously, his jowls shaking from the force, "The champion duellist and Master of the Order of the White Lotus?"
Kurt played bashful well, "I didn't think you would have heard of me, but guilty as charged." He held out the basket, "I brought you a small welcome gift, I hate to admit it but I am a bit of a teacher's pet."
The man took the basket and looked it over while Kurt explained the contents, playing up the role his family had played in the assembly of the basket. The bald man smiled broadly, "I am quite partial to candied pineapple, however could you have known?"
"I twisted the ear of a former student of yours," Kurt shrugged, his modesty more false than his pleasant nature.
"A former student of mine, you say," he stroked his bare chin, "might I get you to let me in on the secret?"
"I shouldn't," Kurt shook his head, he leaned in close enough that he could whisper without lowering his voice too much, "Andromeda Black." Kurt covered his mouth and gave a small giggle, "don't tell."
"How do you know her?" he narrowed his gaze, he was analysing Kurt's all too familiar features.
"Don't tell," Kurt's smile turned mischievous as he brought a single finger to his lips, "but she's actually my aunt."
"That would make you Bellatrix's boy," the man's face was contorted in confusion.
Kurt winked, "we'll make an occasion of that story another day." Kurt moved to the man's side, facing Harry and Hermione, "but now I'd like to introduce my dear friend Hermione Jean Granger, the brightest witch of the age."
"Charmed to make your acquaintance," the man extended a meaty hand, "Ms Davis here has been regaling me with the most titillating conversation, I can't imagine anyone brighter."
"You're too kind," Tracey and Hermione spoke at the same time, this elicited a jolly chuckle from Professor Slughorn.
"My other friend needs no introduction," Kurt shrugged, "I believe you're already well acquainted."
Kurt played up the pair's familiarity and the potions master ran with it, "Harry, my boy."
Harry gave an uncomfortable smile and Kurt wanted to punch him in the throat, "Professor."
"Professor Slughorn," Kurt interjected before Harry could taint his celebrity by saying something stupid, "I'm not sure whether you're aware of this but my friend Tracey here received a perfect score in Potions."
"Oh yes," he nodded, his attention shifting to Tracey, "I heard it was two students who achieved that feat."
"The second is Kurt's stepbrother," Hermione nodded, a polite smile fixed on her face, "Finn Hudson."
"I didn't receive a preregistration for my Alchemy class from a Finn Hudson," the man shook his head and Kurt had to hide a smirk, "I'm not familiar with that student."
"Finn," Kurt shook his head, "while brilliant, is a little absent minded." He laid a reassuring hand on the professor's shoulder, "but trust me, he will be taking the class."
"I am personally looking forward to this year's Alchemy class," Tracey nodded to herself, "I intend on pursuing potioneering as my choice career after school. Damocles Belby is one of my personal heroes," she pointed her finger across the train car, "that is his nephew, Michael Belby."
"The kin of Damocles Belby," the man's eyes grew wide and his jowls hung lower, "in the Slug Club." He nodded to himself, "yes."
The group watched the man wade through the ocean of students to the unsuspecting seventh year student standing at the buffet. Tracey elbowed him in the ribs, "bring it back a few levels."
"Too much?" Kurt smiled innocently.
"Way too much!" She shook her head, "You're trying to be friendly with him, not blow him." She crossed her arms, "I thought he wanted to collect Potter, not molest him."
"Who knows what collect means," Kurt shrugged.
"Did you think Professor Dumbledore was being catholic about it?" Hermione scolded.
"Catholic?" Harry furrowed his brow.
"Turning a blind eye to the abuse of children," Hermione explained, she turned to Kurt expectantly.
"No, I wasn't flirting," Kurt shook his head, "that was me being nice."
"Seemed like you being flirty," Tracey shuddered.
Kurt held up a finger to pontificate, "I'm witty when I flirt." He fixed an imaginary stray hair, "that was me being charming."
"I don't know what to say," Tracey held her hands up in surrender.
Kurt nodded, "I'm just being nice, I will turn it down." Kurt scoffed, "I didn't even swat his arm and pretend to be surprised by his biceps, I can't believe you thought I was flirting."
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