Hello, hello!
I feel I must thank you all for all the story favourites this little yarn has already gotten. I hope it continues to entertain, and as always, feel free to speak up, I love to read your thoughts.
So, without any more ado (I had planned to say something here, but I am truly, truly tired from craft chores in the house- no magic, so I completely forgot what it was)…
Onwards! Chapter 6.
***
Harry got up very early, so early that the only sounds in the Burrow were soft chinks from mrs. Weasley's breakfast fixing. It was nearly the end of August, and he would be going back to Hogwarts for the seventh year along with Ron and Hermione- though he suspected Hermione was along only for moral support and maybe some obscure private class with some of the professors. Harry found that even two years after- then- he felt jittery returning to the place where so many shed their blood, and did not come back like he was lucky enough to do.
But he had to.
He side glanced at the little blue book he'd studied for the past month, then sighed and started dressing. Not only was it necessary to have completed some of the seventh year courses to be legitimately qualified to enter any sort of auror program, but to tie up all the loose ends from –then- he needed information he had to find new ways to access.
In the past two years he had aided in finding, hunting down, discovering every Death Eater still at large. Or rather, he had done it even though he was often asked not to. Harry just couldn't help it. There was too much revenge to be had that was not yet extracted, and the force of that anger propelled him forwards even when aurors grumbled and the ministry sent him letters. He was not alone in this- Ron had the same thirst, soothing his grief in that way and Hermione… well, Hermione was there just to ensure they both survived every escapade.
Of course officially, all the Death Eaters were caught, presumed dead or Kissed. But Harry knew better. He just had no evidence to take to the aurors or the ministry, not after the last Death Eater they were looking for was accounted for: Dolohov's mangled body was found right where the spells had indicated he would be, at the deepest part of a grotto in Kent that apparently had been used for centuries by dark wizards to hide creepy stuff in there. He appeared to have died due to flesh-devouring curses, which did not bother Harry one bit to consider as cause of death for the murderer of Remus Lupin.
But not more than two months ago, Harry started having dreams again. Sinister dreams, not directed to him, of dark figures preparing for rituals the likes of which he had not seen except in his fourth year. They were not dreams, nor his imagination- Harry was positive of it, and Hermione had checked in some obscure magical way he did not really understand but trusted. He sighed as he peered in the mirror, putting on his glasses. When he went to the aurors with it, and Hermione's attestation, he was referred to St. Mungos for psychological post-traumatic shock treatment.
He sneered at the memory of that scene and picked up the book again. After breakfast he'd gather his things and go to Hogwarts. After all in less than three days classes would begin, and Harry wanted to have some time when it was still quiet to research the other two references the little book sited for the spells and charms he needed to prove to the ministry and aurors what he knew was true. Ah, Professor Snape… if you were around, you'd believe me, even if you'd sneer and kick me out.
Harry found he missed the dark man who had been so decisive in the past more and more as time passed since his death. He couldn't quite pinpoint why, but he most certainly did.
Not that he'd ever share that feeling with Ron- because then it would be Ron that would drag him to St. Mungos to have his head checked.
***
Nikos paid the sum demanded of him by the landlady of a rather cozy flat in Hogsmeade. It was two little side streets away from High Street, and had enough room for a bedroom, kitchen and bathroom. Nikos smiled as he looked around, then warded the room and pulled his shrunk belongings out of his pockets.
He opened his trunk- a hulking thing made of heavy greek sculpted pine- and pulled out the table he always carried around. It was just right for the huge sheets of paper Nikos used for the charts. Setting it in the middle of the room, he spread the sheet on it and waved his wand.
"Anadeikse," he murmured, and the busy scrawl on the paper, with all the numbers, letters and crisscrossing lines seemed to come alive.
The ink became quicksilvery and lifted from the paper like a small vortex over the large paper, while lines etched themselves in the air like an ethereal grid before Nikos' wand. Nikos' eyes searched the developing map, and as soon as it was completed, he began murmuring and swishing his wand, furthering the equations. Then he took a step back, watching the whole time, chewing on his cheek.
"Where are you?" he whispered. "And when?"
And just then, the silvery web of equations, latitudes, and timelines flashed a golden yellow and wrapped around Nikos' head, making the wizard yell in agony and drop in a heap in the middle of his new, warded room, eyes wide, pupils dilated.
***
Rasmus found what he had wanted to get into the restricted area of the library for quite easily, and had copied it and sent it off to Nikos in the first few days after his assignments were given. The trouble, it turned out, was to find what that bloody 'Antahiga' curse Professor Bai was going to hit him with was. Rasmus had begun despairing when August twenty rolled in and he still had no idea what the spell was, let alone how to counter it. And though he glimpsed at his father jumping through the frames to stay in his line of vision, he refused to give in and ask him if he knew the answer- he wouldn't give Guiren Bai the satisfaction, if this was a Dark Arts spell, to accuse him of having it taught to him by his 'dark-dabbling father'.
He banged his head upon the table, expecting his head to make a hollow sound. And then, he opened his eyes in excitement.
"Wait a bloody moment! What if I turn this on its head?"
He grinned to himself, eyes gleaming dangerously, and got up to run to the shelves again, wand out to summon the titles he wanted.
***
"Minerva, you must oversee Rasmus- and that guardian of his," Severus told the Headmistress the moment she entered, very early in the morning. It was the last week before classes and Minerva sighed.
"Honestly Severus, what do you want me to do? The man has not been on Hogwarts grounds since Rasmus got started on his projects."
"Then floo him wherever he is! He is up to something, and he's dragging my son into this!"
Minerva rolled her eyes.
"So I should floo him and tell him that one of my office's portraits thinks he's up to something and so I am checking on him?"
Snape grit his teeth.
"When you hired that insufferable auror for the Defense position, did I harass you about it?"
"Yes," Minerva said dryly.
"No," Snape asserted menacingly. "You will ascertain that once you experience what it means to be harassed on an issue if you don't ask Galanos what he is up to!"
"Minerva, try to think, did he mention anything that could imply if he is doing anything besides escorting Severus' son?" Dumbledore tried to offer assistance McGonagall did not particularly want.
"Oh, please," there came another exasperated voice of another Headmaster from a portrait higher up in the wall. "He said he was working on some arithmantic project, didn't he?"
"Thank you, Nigellus," Minerva groaned, rubbing the crown of her nose and trying not to give in to plucking a chocolate mint so early in the day.
Then she glared at Snape who was still trying not to allow himself to be out of her line of vision.
"Fine, you win. I will floo him, ask him a couple of questions, but I refuse to pester the man for you."
Snape was silent, but he did sit back down in his armchair.
Minerva sighed and heaved herself off the armchair, and towards the fireplace.
Throwing in a pinch of floo, she called out:
"Nikos Galanos!"
The green fire flared and McGonagall thrust her head in, intending to glimpse around the room and retreat, claiming that the wizard was either not there, sleeping or too busy.
But what she saw made her gasp and just walk through without thinking, wand out.
***
And that's that! Things are starting to happen, aren't they? What do you think is going on?
Moira of the mountain: Thank you! I don't think it would be realistic to create a full Snape clone. Especially since this son of his also knew his mother and grew in a different cultural environment. I hope you will continue to like him! As for Guiren, he certainly has his own views about who Severus was. ;)
Duj: Hm, well, wait before you dismiss the approach until you see how the lesson is conducted. And yes, the potions classes do have fewer students per session in them when they begin being more advanced (and the dungeons are reserved for those)
Suchrandomness: What is unexpected?