Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know! Also, the story description has been updated to reflect a 'small' change in the plotline, although I've been toying with it for a while. FYI, I've completed chapter 19, and Harry's just sent a rather strange missive to Voldemort... and those of you that have this story on alert, please be aware, chapter one now has an additional opening scene that's rather important.
Posted April 19, 2012.
-CHAPTER 5-
ON THE SAME PAGE
The three of them landed in an alcove just off the street, a pile of crates obstructing their view. Dobby looked about ready to pop away, but Harry put a hand on his tiny shoulder. "You mind sticking with us?"
"Dobby would be happy to, Harry Potter, sir!"
"Great. We need to find Fred and George's shop."
"Dobby is knowing where it is!" He offered his hands again, and they popped away.
They landed behind yet another store, and this one... it was like getting a firework in the face. Even the back of the building seemed to clash violently with the somewhat drab buildings on either side. Harry had to suppress a laugh, as he made to knock on the back door. It opened before his hand got there.
"Well, what do we have here?" The guy had short, red hair and a fair complexion. The outfit he wore was every bit outlandish as the building.
"'lo, George. Care to harbour a fugitive?"
"Harry! Gods, come in, come in!" Harry and Mace found themselves pulled into the shop, Dobby quickly following.
"How did you? You really escaped from that place?"
"For real. Is it safe for us to be here a minute or two?"
"We can close up if you want. Been a little slow today as it is."
"George? Who—Harry?" Fred joined his twin.
"Yeah, it's me. I need a favour or two."
"Name it," said George.
"Anything for our silent partner," Fred threw in.
"We-" Harry gestured to Mace, "need to get out of the country. That means I need some coin. I hate to ask, but—"
"Mate, you helped us get all this started. Of course we'll help you."
"Would five hundred galleons suffice?"
"Bloody hell, no. Two hundred at most, guys. I won't clean out everything you have—"
"He's got no idea, does he, George."
"No clue, Fred."
"Harry. We collect that in a week, easily. If anything, we would consider it repayment for you helping us out."
"All right, all right, sold. And thanks, guys. I have a very short list of allies right now."
"And you've gained another, by the looks of it. Fred-"
"And George Weasley," they introduced.
"James Mace." They shook hands. "Just call me Mace." He shook his head, having only just said that to the professor back at Harry's school.
"What?" Harry asked.
"Well, considering I just introduced myself to three different people in a matter of seconds... how far away is your school from here?"
"He's not been in the magical world long?" came George's question.
"We, um... well... had a bit of an adventure together. He's—"
"Just learned I'm a wizard," Mace finished, partially drawing the captured wand from his jacket pocket.
"Well! You're in good hands there, mate," said Fred.
"Yeah, Harry's a wicked teacher. Helped us all pass our NEWTs in Dark Arts Defence," George finished.
"A... subject in your school," Mace guessed, to which the others nodded. George, meanwhile, was unlocking a strongbox with his wand. He reached inside, and pulled out a small bag. "Harry. Here. If you don't want to accept this as a gift, then take it as an indefinite loan."
"Thanks guys, it's brilliant. I'll pay it back once I get my estate back."
"The Order is still using, um, Sirius' house... for their headquarters," said Fred.
"But word has it you're the rightful owner, if you get my drift."
"Our oldest brother would likely help you, say, chase out a few pests."
Harry grinned madly. "See, Mace, this is why it's not a good idea to get on the bad side of the Weasley twins."
Mace reached up and scratched at his ear. "Where's his house?"
"Here in London."
"That's not leaving the country."
"He's right," said Harry, "I'll deal with Sirius' house later on."
"Still might be a good idea to talk to Bill, Harry. Bill was more than irate when he heard what had happened to you."
"And Charlie?"
"Charlie's pretty pissed too. Ron and Ginny... and Percy... they're the only traitors," said Fred, seriously.
"Before I go, I'll send an owl to your mum and dad. Right now, you guys know how to reach Bill?"
"He's likely at work. Still working a desk at Gringotts since, well..." said George, "I'll pop over and pick him up. Probably better we meet here... Aurors spot you and so on."
"Right." George simply vanished with a crack.
"...the fuck?" Mace was more than shocked.
"It's apparition. A form of Wizarding transportation," Fred explained, "When did you learn you were a wizard?"
"Um... this morning."
"Really?"
Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Like I said, we've been on a bit of an adventure these last few days. And quite honestly, even with everything that just happened to us, it's better than where I stood a few days ago. I could have died this morning... but I think... I would have been okay with that."
"And that would be why you're both dressed the way you are."
"This stuff was our uniforms where I come from," said Mace, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Harry's shit was pretty wrecked when we met."
"Better than the cast-offs I was saddled with at the Dursleys. For once, clothes that actually fit."
"For real?" Mace arched an eyebrow.
"Something I really don't want to get into. But know, my home life wasn't pleasant." he gave an honest smile. "If anything, I know I will never go back there. There's nothing on this Earth that can force me to."
"Well, we did rescue him the summer before his second year," Fred threw in, "They put bars on his bedroom window."
"How old were you?"
"I'd just turned twelve," Harry made a sour face. "They fed me through a cat flap." He let out a sigh. "Just, really. I don't wanna get into it. All that dragon shit is behind me now."
"Sure." Mace frowned again, but let it drop.
There came another noisy pop, and George returned, bringing another individual with him. He looked very much like the twins, but older, with long ginger hair, tied back in a pony tail. His face carried three deep scars, and they looked quite recent.
"God, it's true," he practically exclaimed, "Harry, good to see you got away from that place."
"Agreed. Bill, this is Mace. Mace, Bill." The pair shook hands, but Bill turned back to Harry. "George tells me you want to leave England altogether."
"That's the plan. I'll work abroad to get things sorted out here. And then I'll deal with my former so-called friends."
"What year are we here anyway?" Mace asked.
"June of 2000," answered Harry, "What for?"
"Fuck, nearly sixty years back in time." Mace shook his head in disbelief. "We could fly... catch a commercial flight, right?"
Harry thought for a moment, then said, "That's brilliant! But..." His face fell. "We would need Muggle travel documents. I remember uncle Vernon complaining about them years ago. Something about a passport and so on."
"Harry. Leave that to me. I'll do a little bit of research, it shouldn't take long," Bill offered.
"How long?"
"Likely tomorrow morning."
"They'll need a place to stay then," said Fred.
"Not here," said George, shaking his head, "The Aurors have been in here more often as of late... and the Ministry likely knows he's escaped by now."
"The Burrow then," said Bill, "Mum and dad will help out."
"So I've heard already from Dumbledore. Wait. No, that won't do any good. The place is being watched."
"How do you know that?" Harry answered Bill's question, by lifting the stringy hair out of his face, to reveal his cursed scar. It was the first time Mace had seen it, and he ran a finger over it. "Damn. Feels just a few days old."
"Cursed scar. Sometimes, I see what Voldemort is up to. He's got most of the Order under watch in some way... although he doesn't seem to know Mr. And Mrs. Weasley have left it. No difference, it won't be safe for me there."
"Order headquarters? Just for tonight, at least."
"Then it'll likely be later in the day tomorrow for me to sort out what you need to travel," said Bill.
"Why?"
"Because, you'll need to take control of the wards on Sirius' property. That means likely an hour, likely more of my time."
Mace crossed his arms. "What difference would it make? A house is a house, right?"
"The place we're talking about is hidden by a Fidelius Charm. It literally hides a place from view, and people can't remember it even existed," Bill explained, "The only way you could know of it, is if you're given the secret. Let's see here..." Bill rummaged through his robes, pulled out a tattered piece of paper, tapped it once with his wand, and passed it to Mace. "You'll need to remember that." Mace looked at it, and read the narrow handwriting. It said:
The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.(1)
Mace looked confused for a moment, but handed the paper back. "What's the Order of the Phoenix?"
"Order of the roasted chicken, more like it," Harry muttered. Bill cleared his throat, clearly amused, while his brothers simply smirked. "Really. When have they actually done anything that's made any sort of difference? Any fight I've seen through this—" harry reached up and exposed his cursed scar again, "—the Order is always late to the show. The Death Eaters have for the most part finished what they were doing."
"Sounds like the fire department showing up at a house fire after the fire's almost out," Mace guessed.
"Something like that. I mean, what's the point?"
"Either way, guys, I'll pop over to Grimmauld Place first, see who's there." He vanished with a soft pop.
"Fred. George. Dumbledore said you guys have my trunk and the like."
"Ron had it for a while," said Fred, "Said he claimed the lot of it since you wouldn't be needing it anymore."
"Caught him using your broom," said George. A cold look of fury crossed Harry's face.
"Needless to say, we've kept everything for you. George, you mind?"
"Not at all, bro." He disappeared through a door, and footsteps could be heard going up a set of stairs.
"What about the map?"
"We think Granger may have it."
Harry scowled again. "Great. Great. Another conversation I'll be having sooner than I wanted to."
"What kind of map?" Mace asked.
"A map of Hogwarts. Not a whole lot of use to me now, but... it belonged to my dad." Footsteps were coming back down the stairs, and George reappeared, with a trunk floating behind him. "I can shrink it down if you like," he offered.
"Yeah, that's great," Harry answered. With a few simple wand movements, the trunk was reduced to the size of a pack of playing cards. Harry picked it up, and put it in his jacket pocket.
It was then there was a whoosh in the next room, and a moment later, Bill joined them. "Headquarters is clear now, but we've got about an hour before anyone tries to come back," He announced.
"Let's go then. Guys, thanks a ton, you've been brilliant."
"Any time, Harry," said George.
"Don't be a stranger, keep in touch," Fred added.
"Count on it. Knowing the way things usually end up for me, I need all the help I can get." He knelt down, so he was eye-level with Dobby. "Best you get back to Hogwarts. But I can call on you if need be, right?"
"Of course, Harry Potter sir!"
"It was good to see you again." He placed a hand on the elf's shoulder, and gave it a squeeze, then stood up. Dobby popped away.
"C'mon, we'll be floo'ing Grimmauld Place. Has your friend travelled by floo powder before?" Bill asked.
"No."
"You remember how it works?"
"Yeah, of course. I'll make sure to keep a good grip on him while we're travelling."
"Floo powder?" Mace was unsure of whether to be curious, or concerned.
"It's quite something. Important thing is to keep completely still until you're pushed out at your destination," Bill explained.
"And whatever you do, keep hold of me," Harry added. They were already in the next room, and Bill had grabbed a handful of floo powder from a pot beside the fireplace. He tossed the powder into the flames, causing them to roar a brilliant emerald green and tower over him. He called out, "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!" and simply stepped into the flames. Mace looked somewhere between astonished, and horrified. "F-fuck me sideways."
"Right then. Trust me, it's perfectly safe, if not a little unsettling. Like I said before, whatever you do, hold on until we're pushed out the other end. Ready?"
"Ready as I can be." Harry nodded, and activated the fire as Bill had. "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!" and with Mace right behind him, arms wrapped tightly around Harry's waist, they stepped into the fire.
Mace had experienced more than a few insane things in his life. After all, he had been blasted into space along with seven others, sent on a mission to restart the sun. If that didn't qualify as insane, then what was? Travelling by floo powder, on the other hand, was throwing him for a loop. His lunch was doing loop-the-loops in his stomach, as they seemed to be spinning around insanely fast. It almost felt like he was being sucked down a drain... his ears popped several times, and then...
The pair of them were rather roughly ejected from the grate, to land in a heap on a stone floor. Harry quickly regained his bearings, making sure they'd landed where he had intended. He was relieved, for indeed it was the kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place.
It was then he got a look at his friend. Harry could not stifle a giggle.
Mace frowned. "What?"
"Mate... you look like you rolled around in an ash pit."
"So do you."
"Prat."
"Shithead."
"If the pair of you are quite done." Both of them looked up to see Bill standing off to the side, smirking. A simple gesture from his wand and the pair found themselves cleaned up.
"Thanks, Bill," said Harry, scrambling to his feet. Mace had done the same.
"Right. We don't have a lot of time, so let's get started." Bill drew his wand, continuing, "Since Sirius passed you ownership of the property, you already have access to the wards. It's only a matter of you getting in touch with them, and once you do, you'll be able to make changes to them. It's important you focus your mind, distractions will prevent you from properly communicating with the wards." Bill flicked his wand absently toward the corner of the room, causing a small ripple of pink energy to radiate in all directions.
"What was that?"
"The wards reacting to a gentle probe. Did you feel it?"
"It felt like… someone had flicked my hair."
"I'm going to do it once more, and this time, try and 'see' where it's happening. Focus on my casting, then search for it in your mind." Bill again flicked his wand at the corner, and this time, Harry searched out the sensation mentally. He almost missed it, but… there it was. "Do it again." Bill obliged, and this time, Harry caught the distinct 'ping', and more importantly, where it had come from: the kitchen. He also got a taste of foreign magic. He mentioned this to Bill.
"That was my magical signature." He pinged the wards again, and Harry nodded, understanding what was happening.
For the next half hour, Bill led Harry through a series of exercises which taught him basic communication with the wards he now controlled. Most of it was understanding the messages being sent by the wards, but most importantly, it was also about control of them… the primary goal of the lesson.
"Now we get to the reason for the lesson. Modifying the access list. Many places are set up with a blanket exclusion of everyone, with a white-list of those who are allowed. I can't access the list, but this set of wards has a white list. You'll probably want to erase that and create a new one."
"How do I-"
Crack. Mace had already seen a house elf before, but this one which appeared in front of them was probably one of the ugliest creatures he'd ever seen. He was practically naked, save for the dirty tea towel worn like a loin cloth. He looked much older than Dobby was, with wrinkled skin, and white hairs growing out of his bat-like ears. "Master has returned to my mistress's house with the blood-traitor and a Muggle-" he practically spit the words blood-traitor and Muggle.
"Shut up, Kreacher!" Harry snapped, "What do you want?" Of course, inheriting the house, he'd also inherited the little monster standing in front of him.
"Master is banishing the old whiskered one from the house?"
"Yes, among a few others."
"Kreacher, I know there are ways to completely reset the access list," said Bill. Kreacher narrowed his eyes, but said, "Yes, possible. If that is what master wishes, then that is what the wards will do."
"Perfect." Now knowing how to access the wards, he projected those exact orders. He was pleased as he felt the wards ping several times.
"Well?" Bill asked.
"A number of loud pings in the back of my head."
"The elf tells the truth. Thanks for the help, Kreacher." The elf again narrowed his eyes at Bill.
"Right. Think it's time we had a little conversation, then," said Harry, his features seeming to darken. This was not lost on Mace, and he reached over to put a hand on Harry's shoulder in support.
"Thanks."
"Kreacher is listening."
"Good. I need you to know something. I was more than angry with you, for what happened to Sirius... even after four years, it still really hurts, what happened to him... and knowing you had a part in it. I know you two didn't get along, but he meant everything to me. He was family… something I haven't ever had. I guess what I'm trying to say, is that it really hurt when you lied to my face. You know I could punish you for that now, even long after the fact. I don't plan to, but I want one thing to be crystal clear. You are bound to my service. That means, you will not ever disobey me, lie to me, or betray me in any way, shape or form. You do so, and I will give you clothes. Is that understood?"
"Yes, master," Kreacher croaked, then muttered, "Friend of Mudbloods and blood traitors-"
"You are also forbidden from using the terms Mudblood or blood traitor ever again. I find it offensive, and so do my... my friends. Is that understood?"
"Kreacher understands."
"Good. I promise, although I am your master, I will always treat you kindly and with respect. I don't like forcing you do do anything, it's not right... and even now, I'm not comfortable having to demand things from you. What I want you to remember, is if you need anything at all, just ask."
"Most unnatural, but... Kreacher understands. Regulus, good boy he was, he also treated me kindly."
"Sirius' younger brother," Harry remembered, to which Kreacher nodded slowly. "What was he like?"
"Master Sirius ran away, good riddance, for he was a bad boy and broke my Mistress's heart with his lawless ways. But Master Regulus had proper pride; he knew what was due to the name of Black and the dignity of his pure blood. For years he talked of the Dark Lord, who was going to bring the wizards out of hiding to rule the Muggles and the Muggle-borns… and when he was sixteen years old, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord. So proud, so proud, so happy to serve…" (2)
For the next hour, Kreacher related the tale in which he was volunteered by Regulus to assist the Dark Lord, a task that involved a visit to an underground lake, a most vile potion, a return to said lake, the reclaiming of the locket, and Kreacher's failed attempts to destroy said locket.
"But Kreacher... I still don't understand... why was the locket so important?" Harry asked, finally.
"Master Regulus said it was the darkest magic, tearing the soul-"
"Hell and damnation," Bill exclaimed, "He's created Horcruxes!"
"He's made what?"
"A Horcrux. An item used as a container for a fragment of a person's soul. It's some of the darkest magic imaginable. Harry, if he's made these things, he will be impossible to destroy until they're gone."
"Kreacher. Do you still have it? The locket?" At the elf's nod in the positive, Harry said, "Could you fetch it, please?"
"Of course, Master." He popped away with an equally noisy crack. Bill, meanwhile, still looked like he was going to be ill.
"Dumbledore needs to know."
"Knowing how he works, he probably already knows, Bill. That man could have done so many things to clear my name, but he did none of them. He wanted the perfect moment, to toss me into battle like a Muggle grenade with the pin pulled. That was what he was hoping for."
"Why?" was Mace's simple question.
"Power. Four years in prison gives you lots of time to think, right. The man saw an opportunity to push me out of the way, and he took it. So I don't doubt for a second he already knows about the Horcruxes."
"You think there are more than one." Bill looked even more ill.
"Second year. Tom Riddle's diary. It all makes sense now. And think about it. He's likely created several."
"And you will have to destroy them all, before you can deal with the monster himself."
Crack. Kreacher reappeared in front of them, bringing with him a locket on a golden chain. He held it out, and Harry took it. He could already hear whispers coming from it, spoken in the language only he and one other understood: Parseltongue, the language of snakes.
"Here. On the table," Bill indicated the kitchen table. Harry put it down, and Bill gestured with it with his wand, muttering several spells. His features darkened. "Bloody hell."
"What kind of magic would destroy it? That's what you guys need to be thinking then, right?" Mace pointed out, reaching out to touch the object.
Bill swatted his hand away. "NO. Don't touch it. You're still... still new at all this."
"He's right though," Harry agreed, "How do we destroy them?"
"Something that will inflict a lot of damage. It has to be damaged beyond magical repair. Feindfyre, the killing curse... typically dark magic, unfortunately."
"Basilisk venom," Harry remembered, "It's how I destroyed Tom Riddle's diary in second year."
"An item nearly impossible to get," said Bill, shaking his head.
"The Chamber of Secrets," Harry responded, another dark look crossing his features, "It's probably still there." He frowned, still hearing the cursed object whispering in its many voices. "Honestly though... for now, I'm not gonna worry about it. Kreacher. I want you to keep this hidden and safe. Don't show it to anyone without my permission."
"Of course, master," answered the elf, bowing low. He snatched up the locket, and vanished with a crack.
"Likewise, Bill. If word gets out... even though I'm really not interested in fighting the bastard right now, I'd rather it not get complicated. This shit makes it complicated as it is."
"Got it."
"You were gonna check into travel documents, right?" said Mace.
"Right. I'll need to return to Gringotts. You'll both be all right here?"
"Why shouldn't I? Kreacher's bound to me, right?"
"I need not repeat it, but still. Be careful." Bill was already activating the floo.
"We will."
"Gringotts!" and Bill stepped into the roaring green flames.
"That's so fucked up," Mace declared, shaking his head.
"No, the entire Wizarding world is fucked up," Harry said, with a scowl. He forced his frustration aside, and turned to face his friend. "Enough dire thoughts. When you disarmed Dumbledore... casting that ice spike... how did it feel?"
"Emotionally or physically?"
"Physically."
"It felt... weird. He held his hand out in front of him, and the blue-ish white orb appeared again. "When I have it charged... it feels like all the hairs on my forearm are standing on end. When I let it go... it feels like a surge of power going through my forearm."
"That's the discharge of magic, I suppose. Take out your wand." Mace doused the glowing orb from his hand, and drew the captured wand.
"Let's see if you can use it. A simple spell to start. Say, 'Lumos'."
"Lumos," Mace repeated. Nothing happened.
"Shit. Humour me, and give the wand a wave," Harry suggested. Mace did so, and the result was unspectacular. A single dim spark lit from the tip of it.
"Right, then... here. Try mine." Harry dug out the oddly curved wand from his pocket. Mace accepted it, gave it a wave, and was mildly surprised, as a bloom of blue sparks came off the tip.
"More like it. Hmmph. Don't know why that wand doesn't want to work for you. I'll help you get one that does. Let's try a spell again. 'Lumos'."
"Lumos." The tip of the wand lit with a soft white light.
"A quite useful spell in dark places. Nox cancels it."
"Nox," said Mace, and the light vanished. He thought for a moment, then went to hand the wand back.
"No. Hold on it. Since it seems you have some sort of magical core now, let me show you a few others. It's all first-year material, so it's pretty easy."
"Sure."
Dinner time rolled around, and both were effectively knackered by this point. For Harry, it was old hat, and a bit of a review. For Mace, it was a deeper look into the Wizarding world, and experiencing what it truly meant to be a wizard. As Kreacher set out Dinner, Mace finally asked, "Thing is, why? Fuck, four days ago I was just... I dunno, normal?"
"Mate... there's no such thing as normal. Insanity on the other hand... let's just say, some are crazier than others," Harry grinned. They looked at each other, and burst out laughing.
"Searle would've liked you, Harry."
"One of your crew mates."
"He was the doctor and the shrink. 'course at times I thought I was saner than he was. Great guy though. He invented this room, right... it could simulate just about any environment."
"Have to get you into the Room of Requirement one day," Harry smirked, as he filled his plate. It was nice having food that both looked and tasted appetizing for a change. The MREs, as Mace called them, were food, but that was all. They looked and tasted terrible, reminding him too much of the gruel shit he was fed in Azkaban.
"The Room of Requirement?"
"Like your simulator, but created with magic. My fifth year, a bunch of us used it as a place to meet and study Defence Against the Dark Arts... bloody teacher we had was more than useless." Harry hesitated, but let his left hand rest on the table. Mace could easily make out the deep gouges in the skin, forming the words, 'I must not tell lies'.
"Jesus. Looks like you carved your hand up with a scalpel."
"No. She had this big, black quill. It didn't need any ink, because it used my blood instead. Whatever I wrote was carved onto the back of my hand. She had me write lines... for hours on end."
"Fuck, I would've told someone."
"It was complicated, Mace. She ran the school. Even showing you this... I'm not comfortable."
"You'd keep that shit locked up inside you."
"Not now. I'm done playing martyr. Before... when all of this was happening, I was more concerned about others being hurt because of me. Now that I know what I'm really worth—what I really mean to the Wizarding world, I no longer give a flying fuck. They've burned me for the last time."
Mace watched as Kreacher carried off one of the empty dishes. "Kreacher. You don't sit with us?"
The elf turned around, narrowed his eyes, but answered, "Most improper, house elf sitting with his master, it is not done."
"But why?"
"It is the way it is. We are not to be seen or heard." The old elf shuffled off to the sink, and dropped the items into the sink, where they instantly began to wash themselves.
"I don't know a lot about house elves, but mostly they're treated like property, rather than... well... members of the family. Dobby was treated very badly by his previous owners." Harry smiled momentarily, but it vanished. "Hermione was always on about making things better for house elves. She even started leaving little knitted hats and so on around the Gryffindor common room... that went over real well." His comment was laced with sarcasm. "I mean, I'm still in the dark about a lot of things, but really. House elves don't want to be freed. Now, to serve a loving family? Absolutely. But they relish the work and so on."
"What's wrong with giving them clothes?"
"It would be like you getting sacked—Fired. It's something a house elf actually fears. Now as difficult as Kreacher is, I kind of need his help. And to have him bound to me, that's even better. If I need him to do something, I can easily call on him."
"He trustworthy?"
"As long as I don't leave any loopholes. But I think the biggest thing is we can't be nasty toward him, that just makes things worse. That was Sirius' mistake." Another cloud descended over the young wizard. They said nothing for the remainder of the meal.
"Harry?"
"Yeah."
"Just... You okay, man?"
"N-no." His eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I hated coming back here. This was Sirius' house. Too many things—memories here." Now, Mace understood the problem. Unfortunately, he also realized, they were likely in the safest place for now, from what he could figure out. Clearly, Harry had many enemies at this point. "Just... as soon as we can, we're leaving."
"No shit. This place is oppressive. Where did you sleep?"
"Y-yeah... good thought," Harry agreed, unemotionally. He slowly stood up. "It's... this way."
The room was a mess. It somewhat reminded Mace of his exploration of the Icarus I, with dust on just about every surface. Some of the furniture was broken, the contents of several drawers emptied onto the floor, and the curtains looked like they'd been shredded by a cat. A 'dive' was the first description to pop into his head.
"Jesus Christ, you actually slept in here?"
"It's been four years—four and a half, maybe. Kreacher doesn't really clean the place. Here. Time for another lesson." Harry drew his wand, and passed it to Mace. "A cleaning charm. Simple, but quite handy to know. The motion is like this..."
the rest of the evening was swallowed up with Harry teaching Mace a few more spells and charms, all with the intent of getting the room back into somewhat usable condition. The guy picked up the new spells more than quickly, and seemed to easily grasp the theory behind it. For Harry, it was once again providing a chance for him to review old material, since, in the back of his mind, he would need to be ready for sixth year. Somehow, some way, he would be completing his education, more than likely abroad.
"You don't mind sharing?" Harry questioned, as he removed his jacket, and left it folded on the dresser.
"No, 'course not."
"Good. Not really into doing any more cleaning at this point. Though if you want—"
"We're leaving tomorrow, right?"
"Yeah. Right."
"'sides, I think we should stick close for now."
"G-good thinking." Harry felt his face get hot, and Mace smirked.
Harry looked at him, puzzled. "What?"
"I don't kiss someone unless I mean it."
"Err..."
"Harry. The only reason I'm alive right now, is because of you. I dunno how or why... with what you've been through—c'mon, I can piece together enough, right? How did you turn out sane, with all the shit you've been through? Fuck, man, you're much stronger than me or any of the others put together. Seriously."
"I doubt that. Stuck together with seven others for eighteen months? I don't think I would cope."
"I think you would have. Now, whether you would've got through the psych. Exams or not..."
"Probably not." That got a grin out of Harry. It vanished. "Still, what's all that got to do with—"
"I said before... all of us were like a family, right? But... two of them... um... there was an unwritten rule—our relationships were professional, that was it."
"Not that that would stop anyone."
"In our case, actually we did—at least for the most part," answered Mace, looking rather uncomfortable. They had finally gotten into bed, and now lay facing one another. "The mission was everything. Couldn't let shit like that get in the way. 'Course, it sort of did, long before we left Earth. Cassie and I, got rather heated for a while. Had it not been for Searle, she—possibly me too... we would've been pulled off the mission."
"What happened?"
"What do you think?"
'O', Harry mouthed.
"Cassie aborted the baby, of course, but fuck. It took a long time to get my shit sorted... same for her, I think. But we never talked about it again."(3)
"And the other?"
"Capa. The passenger, I kept calling him, in my head. But now I think of it, it was... I was attracted to him. And I think the feeling was mutual. We knew we couldn't act on it, so—"
"Unresolved sexual tension," Harry guessed, to which Mace slowly nodded.
"I was a bastard toward him sometimes. But now I think it was just to get a reaction out of him. But he did it to me right back..."
"Just like Ron and Hermione," said Harry, darkly, "Fifth year... before I was framed for murder... the pair of them fought like cats and dogs. I knew better than to get between them while they were fighting. Now I understand what was really going on. Gotta wonder if they got married yet—not that I really care."
"Which gets us back to what I'm trying to say. It's only been a few days, but it feels like... I've known you a lot longer, make sense?"
"You fancy me then?"
"Yes!" Harry felt his face get VERY hot with the admission, and although he couldn't see the guy's face, Harry imagined it was likely quite red as well.
"You realize I'm half-destined for the locked ward at St. Mungo's, right?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"Nutters? Bonkers? Loopy? Shall I go on?"
"Harry, I don't give a shit. Let me help you stay sane. When... when I saw your face... your eyes... were the most beautiful thing at that moment. You saved my life and I'll never forget that. I knew right then you were special, and I guess... I think you kind of stole my heart then."
"I see," said Harry, reaching up and touching Mace on the chest. The guy visually shivered from the contact. "Last thing I expected when I twisted the knob on that hourglass, was to be flung out into space, and land on a crippled spaceship. Thing is, I guess everything happens for a reason. Maybe we were meant to meet. Maybe I was meant to save you. Barring the fact it was the right thing to do... quite honestly, my reasons were selfish. I needed to know where I was. You were the only person left on the ship, so it was either save your life, or be stuck on a derelict spaceship, and quite possibly die there, alone.
"Now? If I had to do it over, without question, yes, I most definitely would. You didn't know me. I mean, really, you still don't—although you will, don't get me wrong. Right now, I feel more comfortable dealing with strangers, than the people I know. I've been betrayed by most of those I know-"
"Harry... I won't-"
"Just let me finish." Harry took a deep breath to calm himself. His heart was pounding against his ribcage, and he could feel his hands getting all sweaty. But he ploughed onward. Mace had bared his heart open and it was only fair Harry reciprocate, no matter how awkward it might be. "Being forced to be so close to one another in your compartment... even as dire as the situation was, part of me didn't want that to end. Mace, you've given me something I haven't had in nearly five years. Comfort and companionship—without strings or expectations. Guess what it all boils down to... the feeling's mutual." Harry was startled as he was pulled in tight, and their lips again locked together.
AUTHOR NOTES: So... why would the captured wand not work for Mace? He did disarm the headmaster, right? Of course, if you've read the Deathly Hallows, you should know ;-)
(1) Taken from Pg. 57, "Order of the Phoenix", Canadian Soft-cover edition.
(2) Taken from Pg. 159, "Deathly Hallows", Canadian Soft-cover edition.
(3) Of course, in Canon, he did not know about Cassie's pregnancy. Reminder, folks, this is AU.