Hello, hello, everyone! I know I sound like I dropped off the face of the earth or abandoned this story to write others, and so on, but none of that is true. I just have far too much on my plate in real life and duties to enforce discipline or regime in my writing of fanfiction. Fanfiction is for me to catch a break, so I write it as it comes. But I do finish what I start- because I wanna read it too! :P
Brief story summary for those who have forgotten (feel free to bypass if you remember the yarn): Minerva realizes that Snape had a son with a Greek potions-and-things-that-go-boom master who is dead. He was keeping Rasmus secret for security reasons, but now at his 15 Rasmus transfers to Hogwarts with his uncle Nikos(who is also his godfather) as chaperone. Nikos is an Arithmancer of high level and dangerous application called an Auguror (he can see into the immediate future with his equations or open portals in the dimensions) and an accomplished dueler. Minerva and the others realize these two have come with a mission to keep the bigger, badder, more nefarious dark wizards from reaching full power. These are none other than the ancient gods Isis and Osiris, who have kept themselves alive through anchors and horcrux-y stuff. These two have a cult that is battled by the Pythagorians, a secret society of wizards mainly in Greece that both Rasmus' parents turn out to have been members of. Nikos is, too. Isis needs Blood of Victors (and other icky stuff) of potent dark wizards to keep Osiris alive and not-a-mummy. When she fails to harvest the bodies of Snape and Dumbledore, she goes after Minerva, Harry Potter and Rasmus to harvest the ingredients she needs. Yes, Harry Potter has also come with Hermione and Ron to complete their senior year, and get tangled up in this great mess- because it wouldn't be Harry if trouble didn't find him, too.
In the raid that ensues to harvest these guys, the DADA professor and Poppy are killed, and everyone else is battered in some way. Rasmus feels most of this is his fault for disobeying Snape's portrait's order to go hide. Minerva asks Nikos to serve as DADA professor for the remainder of the year to teach kids to defend against such potent aggressors as the type of wizards Isis and Osiris are.
Turns out that to reach full power, Isis and Osiris need to get in possession of magic artifacts called 'keys' of which they are currently trying to get the one Salazar Slytherin pinched from Osiris back in the Middle Ages and hid somewhere in Hogwarts. Of course no matter how much they or their minions have looked over the ages, nobody found it because Sal is crafty. :P
In the meantime, Rasmus feels guilty for allowing Osiris to steal blood from him twice at the near-death of his uncle, so he researches a way to 'make it right' by undoing the spell-bind that uses his blood to keep Osiris tied to the living. While this is happening, Isa Dawlish who is Minister is trying to round up Isis' cultists using intelligence Minerva gives her from Nikos' Augury (the advanced arithmancy), but she also botches it because she tried for a raid Nikos said she should keep away from, and all of her aurors are butchered. That is not going to look well in the polls, so Isa throws a fit.
Lastly, we find out that one of the antagonizing Slytherin students in Rasmus' class, Adeline Gaunt, is considered by Salazar's portrait as the true Heir of Slytherin, as she speaks parseltongue, shares Salazar's blood and doesn't want anything to do with Tom Riddle (to avoid harassment), and has told her where he hid the key. So she goes to Nikos to strike a deal with that collateral while Snape talks to Rasmus from his portrait, trying to keep him from applying his research on the whole Blood Bond thing.
Whew! That's that more or less. It may not LOOK brief, but considering this is chapter number FORTY, I'd say it damn well is!
So, everyone with us now, memories refreshed and all?
Let's move on! Chapter 40.
/ / /
Lyall was certain he had splinched himself.
At least he hoped he had, if only to stopper the horrible pain he was feeling, the sheer horror of having to look at his body to see what was left, the gore he was certain there was covering him instead of clothes. That was not the parting image he wanted to have from life upon leaving it to face whatever there was- or wasn't- after death.
No. Lyall wanted to die with the beauty of flowers on his retina and the smell of honey in his nose, and the laughter of children in his ears. He didn't want to remember the mangled bodies of his fellow aurors as they fell like hay under Isis' spell and equally helplessly, he didn't want to still smell the blood and fluid exposed to the atmosphere, and he had to find a way to shake that haunting laughter of glee from his ears that was too gentle to belong to the butcher of a witch that had discovered him.
Lyall cried, because it was winter already, and there were no flowers around, and no honey to saturate the air with its smell. The familiar meadow was asleep, like he would soon be dead. He hoped he died before Isis found him again, before her spells that wouldn't let anyone approach made him hope for the Cruciatus just to feel relief by comparison. They were vicious, horrible on a whole different level, the spells of that otherwordly witch, the way they burnt, singed, twisted and slashed with the gentleness of a caress and the cold unyielding of a serial killer. It wasn't the crude cruelty of the Cruciatus that he had tolerance against. It had been elegant agony his body didn't know how to shut down, didn't know how to handle, and thus bypassed all his defenses to force him to feel every bit of the pain the goddess-level witch wanted him to feel.
I hope I splinched myself, he panted, trying to crawl on his elbows, dragging the dead weight that was his body upon the hardened, chilled soil that was the jagged and inhospitable edge of the Forest, just as he remembered it. He had the distinct impression that he was making a wide wet line with his torso as he dragged upon the ground. He wasn't sure if he still had his legs, but he didn't turn to look what he was leaving behind and what he was dragging along. He would not look upon himself after Isis, and before he died. He would crawl to the edge of the Forest and look upon the meadow, even if it wasn't green and flecked with Spring, and then he'd sleep as well, and never wake up again.
He heaved again with a gurgly grunt.
His elbows gave way, and his face hit the ground hard with a sickening thud, and Lyall realized his face was probably full of gore as well. There had to be pain shooting up from somewhere below his neck, but his brain was too overwhelmed to process that anymore. He shut his eyes as tears flowed with childish chagrin. Why hadn't he died already? Please don't let Isis find me. Please finish me, and let me smell a flower, and I will die without fear, he asked futilely, for he was not yet within the haven he had rushed to in his maddened, crazy, despaired attempt to flee Stonehenge and doom.
/ / /
Professor Frideswide frowned to herself as she raised her head from where she was carefully snipping ingredients with a small whitegold sickle. Surely no student was foolish enough to sneak into the Forbidden Forest, after everything that had taken place. Right? She frowned.
"Harry?" she asked aloud, but not to loudly. No response came, no suspicious stillness or any sort of reaction. Erna smirked at her own tendency to expect Potter to have said foolishness. There nothing there, the slithering she heard probably by creatures entitled to be where they were.
She shook her head and turned back to her work, but as she neared her sickle to one of the wide swaying iridescent leaves of the plant she was harvesting, there came a moan- and for a moment it seemed like the plant was in pain. Then she realized the groans and sobs were coming from further behind her, and they were definitely human.
Tensing, Erna stood up, pulling out her wand from her jeans' back pocket. Her mouth set into a line, she swished it, whispering a quick spell to grant her partial invisibility and carefully approached to where the sounds had come. They seemed to have died down now.
The blackened barks of the Forbidden Forest trees were constantly blocking her vision, but along with the frustration that also gave her a sense of safety, since the trees would also shield her from rogue spells against her.
The smell of blood reached her nostrils- heavy bleeds, serious wounding, her healer's senses told her, but she held back from rushing to the injured. Too many things had happened, too many deaths, to let her guard down so easily. Hogwarts could not afford yet another dead professor, and she wouldn't be able to avenge Guiren's death if she died so quickly.
There was a thinning of the vegetation a few paces ahead, too small to be legitimately called a clearing, where the sun was a little stronger. There was a human-like form sprawled there, immobile, covered in blood and tattered clothing. The healer in her screamed for her to rush to him, but Erna held back still, her eyes scrutinizing the surroundings for any hostile wizards hidden in the shrubbery. For a few tantalizing moments, she held still, listening for anything out of place, and heard nothing.
She rushed to the man then, flicking her wand to assess whether he was even alive, and her heart clenched as she took in his robes. An auror. He must have apparated here, her mind provided as she went through the motions of seeing whether there was anything to salvage. The man's left leg was completely twisted off at the knee, attached still by just a bit of sinew and skin- a sluggish bleed, the artery still clenched shut in the reflex reaction of shock. There was too much blood caked on his torso to realize the full extent of his injuries, but Erna could see that his back was one big lesion, and the right shoulderblade had given out in what had apparently been his effort to crawl on his elbows.
That his arms were not broken or mangled seemed nothing short of miraculous.
But his head… Erna grit her teeth as her wand moved through the rapid motions of the field medic shields necessary to keep this man's soul within his body- for somehow he was still alive. She magically bound the grotesquely dangling leg and secured his vitals- and as it was apparent that he wouldn't be able to adequately breathe with the fluid rapidly accumulating in his lungs, she spelled oxygen to be transferred to his bloodstream regardless.
That done, she took a moment to settle her own roiling stomach at the horror before her eyes- the horror that made this man's form mix with that of Guiren Bai's in her mind, sprawled on the cold stone floor bleeding out while she did nothing- and then raised her wand to the sky to call for more help.
/ / /
Rasmus exited Nikos' DADA office quietly, burdened with what his father had narrated. He grit his teeth as waves of rage at what had been done to his mother threatened to overwhelm him. Had he known that when Osiris was before him, he may not have chosen to be solely defensive in his dueling.
Yeah. And that would have earned you an earlier grave than what you'll probably get, his self chided snarkily in his mind.
"Damn you, Osiris. You have stolen far too much of me," he whispered, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand, though they were dry of tears. Rasmus was determined not to let that go unpunished. And though he knew his father had narrated to him the actual conditions of his mother's death in order to dissuade him from using what he had discovered against Osiris, it only made the youth more determined to do exactly that.
But he wouldn't tell Nikos that. His godfather didn't deserve to worry.
Rasmus sighed. You don't have a right to make Nikos feel responsible, Severus had told him. I do not believe he would be able to survive your passing.
His father was nothing if not blunt, even after death, Rasmus thought in frustration. And it put an extra burden on him that he didn't appreciate, though he could see both the truth in it, and the manipulation.
"You won't dissuade me, dad," he grumbled as he walked near the various portraits of the corridor, knowing that though his father wasn't in them, he'd get the message via relay. "I'll just study more. And I will do it with Potter's gaggle's help, just to spite you," he added as an afterthought.
The thought made him smile mirthlessly as he straightened up, and his gait became brusquer as he got a purposeful route- to the library, right where he knew Hermione would be.
"Hey, Snape!"
Rasmus groaned inwardly and rolled his eyes. The last thing he needed was a pointless verbal or magic skirmish with Gaunt.
"I'm not in the mood, Gaunt," he snapped, trying to walk away faster, but she caught up with him.
"Relax, Snape," Adeline said sardonically. "I'm not here to harass you. And you should be a little politer to me too, seeing as I'm now a valuable ally to your godfather."
"You? That would be a novelty indeed," scoffed Rasmus. "Since he hates bullies and hot-headed loudmouths."
Adeline glared at Rasmus, but it wasn't the rage she could harbor for other classmates verbally attacking her. It never had been. Adeline idly realized that it was probably because the younger Snape had never used her lineage as a weapon against her.
She snorted.
"Really now, Snape, do show some of that dashing courtesy everyone is talking about; because without me, you will never manage to find the Key you're so desperate for."
To his credit, Rasmus managed to keep his face impassive as he took in the information.
"Knowing your likes, you got something out of that offer already, Gaunt; so spare me. You can't bury three at the price of one."
Adeline paused, then smirked.
"I will not even try to guess what that means; probably something that Greeks find impressive," she couldn't resist the jibe, "but look: Obviously I didn't come here for your charming personality."
"You could have fooled me," Rasmus smirked acidly. "Since you've been blocking my path and yammering all this time."
Adeline's eyes flashed, and for a moment it sounded like she was trying hard not to hiss her words at the teen.
"Your uncle sent me, you little cretin," she nearly snarled at him. "He wants me to tell you he asks that you don't do anything stupid before he has a chance to talk to you. Since he's been called to the infirmary with Frideswide."
Rasmus frowned and forgot to keep yanking Adeline's chain.
"The infirmary? What's happened? Who's ill?"
"I don't know," Adeline shrugged. "And so long as it's not him or you, I frankly do not care." She added as she brushed past him in the huff that Rasmus had wanted to procure for his amusement, but was now too worried to enjoy.
For a moment, he hesitated, Adeline all but forgotten. Should he go to the infirmary and see what was wrong, or should he continue to go find Hermione and discuss his Blood Bond research with her? It will mean telling her what father told you, his mind warned.
Rasmus chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, then made his decision and trotted of quickly to the library. The most important thing was to make sure his plan would work, maybe even before Nikos asked Adeline to reveal where the Key was hidden. If Osiris were removed, even if Isis was not, it would be better odds for everyone. Rasmus had no doubt about that.
And since Severus had heaped the responsibility of lessening the risks of his plan to the lowest –that was not what he asked you. He asked you not to do it.
Rasmus breathed in, setting his shoulders. Since he had to minimize risk, he couldn't think of a better counsel than the one who had kept Potter alive through six years' worth of shenanigans until it came down to the endgame that... yeah, don't go there right now.
Yes, until Nikos was ready to talk to him, he'd go seek out the Golden Trio for the first time of his own initiative, and lay out his problem to be solved, like Harry had done earlier on to him. That was fair. And within limits of his godfather's request.
For of course, talking to Hermione could not be stupid, could it?
/ / /
And that's that for now!
I promise we will find out what Snape told Rasmus soon, as well as where Salazar hid the key. I can't wait until I get to that part!
And look! Lyall survived Isa's botched raid! Well, sort of. :/ I think it will be interesting to see how he managed.
Now, I know most of those of you who commented will have forgotten what you said, but I will answer you anyway. :p
Bumblebee88888: I didn't update soon, but I promise you I will always update. And no, the Key is not in the Room of Requirement. Everyone looks there lately! I also want to thank you for your reviews, they were excellent and very encouraging. If you look at my profile you will see I actually AM Greek, so that should answer you how I'm so familiar with the culture and the general Mediterranean mythologies :D
Zoe Bright: If Rasmus ever has kids, he may even be a smothering dad. Right now though, he's just confused and driven to 'make things right' even if he really isn't the one who should make them so.
Sindie: I missed you too! Though lately I've been reading your AU fic, which is very promising :) We'll see what Rasmus' solution is. If Sev says it's good, you can imagine it's more than that though- at least in achieving the primary goal, never matter collateral damage :/
Hwyla: Thank you! I hope you still follow this after all this time.
Duj: No, it's not there. He hid it somewhere where only HE would be able to grant entrance- not just any parselmouth. You'll see ;)
And that's that! I hope next time is sooner than last time was :P