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Posted May 17, 2012.
-CHAPTER 9-
OLD FRIENDS
As Jason awoke the following morning, the first thing he noticed was the heat. Even with the windows left wide open to let in the outside air, he was soaked with sweat. For a moment, he thought the house was on fire, but the absence of the smell of smoke dispelled that idea. He went to produce his wand, but found his arm pinned under his mate, who was also glistening with sweat.
"Mace?"
"Huh?"
"Gotta get up," Jason whispered, leaning in and planting a soft kiss on his shoulder, "Place feels like a an oven."
"No kidding. Holy fuck." Mace shook the cobwebs out of his head and rubbed his eyes. "Never felt it this hot back where I'm from." He propped himself up on one arm, letting Jason's arm free. Jason then produced his wand, and cast a cooling charm on the room, causing the temperature to drop by a few degrees. They both instantly shivered.
"Err... maybe not. Let's—" The door burst open, and a pair of rather noisy twins practically flew into the room. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" they both chorused, only to stop dead, realizing their wake up call was unnecessary. Jason, however, smirked, wand still in his hand. "Rictumsempra!" he exclaimed, sending both red heads to the floor being tickled mercilessly by some invisible hand.
He cancelled the spell a few seconds later, leaving the pair heaving on the floor. "Y'know, as much as we appreciated the, um, wake up call, we could have been engaged in something a little more—"
"Private," Mace finished, feeling his face flush. Of course, they'd not ever gone that far yet, but both of them knew it was only a matter of time. Mace thought for a moment, then said, "Besides, they're a day late anyway."
"With all that was going on," Fred began.
"Bill thought we might throw you a party today," George finished.
"If you would let or mum come along, she'd love to see you."
"Well..."
"Jason. I think it would be awesome."
"I just don't like people to make a big deal about things. What happened yesterday's probably already front page news back in England... likely everywhere else come to think of it." There came another knock at the door, and Bill stuck his head in. "you guys are late for breakfast."
"We'll be down shortly," said Jason, at last swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Send word your mum and dad are welcome to come visit us."
"No one else," Mace threw in, "I know Jason's got issues with some of your family right now."
"So do we," said George, with a scowl, "So do we. We'll make sure mum knows."
It was another half-hour before the pair of them stepped into the rather noisy kitchen. The table had already been cleared, but seeing the pair, Kreacher had everything back out: cereal, toast, pumpkin juice, eggs, and bacon. Jason only then realized he was hungry, and began adding items to his plate. "'morning, everyone."
"And a good morning to you too, Jason. Thank you for putting us up for the night, but we do have to get going. I still need to stop home and freshen up, I've got a ten o'clock hearing to attend," said Sandra.
"I'll likely be by later this afternoon, though," said Ty, "I'll have more paperwork for you guys to look over and sign."
"You guys are always welcome here," said Jason, "And thanks. Thanks for everything."
"Oh, I don't think you'll be rid of us that fast," said Sandra, with a smile, "Somehow I know you have a rather lengthy agenda concerning a number of people back in England."
"Yeah, you'd be absolutely right. But I insist from here on out, I pay for your services. I appreciate you taking my original case for free, but the issues now are nothing to do with my freedom. I won't be seen to be taking advantage of people. That's something Malfoy would've done."
"We'll talk about that more in the coming days, then. Now we really have to get going. Do enjoy your day, and try not to get into too much trouble." Sandra and Ty were already heading out the door. They stepped out into the yard, and vanished with a soft pop.
Mrs. Weasley could hardly believe it. The young man who now stood in front of her had changed so much from the small boy she first remembered meeting one summer night eight years ago. He wore a brown tee shirt that hugged his frame rather nicely, a pair of jeans that had been hacked off just above the knees, and although he was still incredibly skinny, he looked well, with lots of colour in his face. His hair was then longer and stringy, rather than the bird's nest she remembered—she had to resist a frown a that, since his hair nearly reached his shoulders, somewhat like her eldest boy. No matter, this was still the same boy, now very much a man, and she enveloped him in one of her bone-crushing hugs. "Harry..."
"It's Jason, now, Mrs. Weasley... and if... I might breathe..." She broke the embrace, then held him at arms' length, as a mother would inspect a child she'd not seen in some time. "You look well, considering..."
"I'm feeling better, Mrs. Weasley. And thanks... thanks for believing in me."
"There is no way you would have done what they said you had done. I can't believe Albus would throw you to the wolves in that way!"
"Don't get me started on the great Albus Dumbledore," said Jason, scowling. He brightened, though. "Mr. And Mrs. Weasley. This is James Mace. Mace... Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, the twins' and Bill's parents."
"Good to meet you." They shook hands. "Jason saved my life over a month ago now."
"Yes, well, he's certainly got that in him," said Mr. Weasley, with a frown.
"You don't like that idea?"
"NO. No, nothing like that," answered Mr. Weasley, frowning, "Only, some people need to appreciate exactly what that sort of thing means."
"Our youngest sister, Ginny. Jason saved her life about seven years ago. She repays him by spouting the most vile comments during his trial," said Fred, grimly.
"One of many people, Mace."
"Har—Jason, you know what a life debt is?" Mr. Weasley asked, as the group moved into the living room.
Jason gestured for them to have a seat. "Um... no, never heard of it."
"A life debt occurs when one wizard or witch saves the life of another."
"Then it would mean..." Mace began, to which Mr. Weasley slowly nodded. "What does it mean?"
"Let's say Har—Jason was to call it due. He could in theory ask you to do just about anything."
"It's a grave thing, a life debt, but equally so, it's one of humility," said Bill, "You acted to save another's life. Whether the person deserved it or not, you, in acting, give that person worth, validated their existence."
"Is that... why I feel... I dunno, drawn to him then?" Mace asked.
"It's possible. But if so, it would be very minor, compared to other feelings between the pair of you," Bill answered. Mrs. Weasley looked confused for a moment, then it dawned on her.
Jason could see it at once. "Yes, we're sleeping together," he said, bluntly, feeling his face again get rather hot. "Right. I think that's enough dark thoughts for now. You guys did come to visit for a reason, after all, and I strongly doubt it was to talk about my love life."
The day ended up being virtually an extension of the previous evening, as Jason celebrated his nineteenth birthday. Mrs. Weasley had brought a cake along with her, and the old house elf cooked up a storm, seeming to know the things Jason liked the best.
Just before dinner time, as promised, Ty arrived, bringing with him a few items requiring Jason's signature, as well as a single item requiring that of Mace. Jason arched an eyebrow as he read the item for his boyfriend.
"Citizenship? That fast?"
"Remember, Jason, things move along much quicker in the magical world," Ty reminded him.
"Right."
Mace already had a pen ready, as the documents were slid across the table to him. Jason, meanwhile, read through the rest of the items needing his attention. One set of documents was an updated agreement between him and the law firm. The cost would be expensive, but Jason was by no means concerned about it. If people just expected him to roll over and take it, they were sadly mistaking. Another set was identical to the one Mace had, and Jason signed and dated it. The final set of documents dealt with Number twelve, Grimmauld Place, which had been released back to him rather forcibly by the ICW. He had to smirk, remembering how the appellate court had spoken to the dumpy man who was England's Minister for Magic.
"What?" Mace had caught Jason's look.
"Just thinking of the wonderful tongue-lashing the ICW's court served up on ole Fudgie yesterday. A Patronus-worthy memory, I think."
"A Patronus?"
"Oh. You don't remember?" Jason drew his wand. "Expecto Patronum," he whispered, and a brilliant white light erupted from the end of it, to instantly take the form of an enormous stag, barely able to fit within the tight confines of the room. It seemed to look around for a moment, then nuzzled against Jason's side, and vanished.
Ty was astounded, while Mace simply gave a nod. "Damn. You used that against the Dementors."
"Exactly. It needs happy memories... he looked a little brighter today, I think," Jason grinned, feeling his face get warm. Mace smirked, knowing what Jason was thinking.
"Jason! You almost done? We're gonna toss a quaffle around... coming?" came George's voice from the yard.
"Hold on guys, just about done." He double-checked the last set of forms, and slid them across the table to Ty.
"Though there'll likely be some sort of small ceremony at the Ministry, welcome to Canada, guys."
"Thanks, mate." They all stood.
"I'm heading back to the office. Have a good night, the both of you. And Jason... a happy belated birthday."
"Thanks."
After seeing Ty leave, Jason went up to his room, and opened his trunk. He'd not been in it all that much since it was returned to him, but if he was going to play, he needed his broom. He found it stowed safely off to one side, shrunken down so it would fit. It would likely need a bit of T.L.C. Eventually, but for now, it would be flyable. He retrieved the broom, slammed the lid to the trunk shut, and went back downstairs. By the looks of it, Mace had already gone outside.
The back yard was not exactly defined, as the grass seemed to get rougher the further away from the house one went, until it at last met a rather large pond. They figured it was about twenty to twenty-five feet deep at its deepest point, and given the hot weather, it would likely be the consistency of soup by now.
Mace gave Jason a curious look, seeing him carrying the broom. "You fly that?"
"Yeah, that's the idea." Jason smirked and said, "You know how to fly, err... Muggle airplanes, right?"
"Yeah."
"Then this'll probably be a breeze for you." Jason held the broom level. "Hop on."
"Um..."
"Scared?" Jason stuck his tongue out. The challenge was quickly accepted, and Mace took a seat on the broom. He was surprised to find it was actually comfortable. "Right. Feet in the stirrups... great." He jumped on behind him. "Squeeze ahead a bit." Jason was actually impressed, as his mate had instinctively gripped the broom correctly.
"Flight controls are the same?"
"Somewhat. Depends on where your hands are. Shift your hands ahead a bit... great. Now, pitch forward—not too fast... more aggressively you do that, the faster we go." The broom had lurched forward, and Jason had to grab around his mate's waist before he fell off the back of it. "Shifting your body left or right turns..."
"I'm the stick, then," said Mace.
"The what?"
"The stick... or yoke... it's what the pilot uses to control the control surfaces of the aircraft. This case, it's like I'm the stick, if that makes any sense."
"I guess... I mean, I wouldn't know. When we flew across the Atlantic, it was the first time I've ever been on a plane."
"How fast can this go?"
"I dunno, a hundred fifty miles an hour, maybe. It was the fastest broom in the world when I got it. Been a few years though, so there might be something faster now."
the broom was gone like a shot, and Jason was forced to grab on for dear life. He'd certainly done some crazy manoeuvres on it, but this... it was bordering on scary. Once... twice... three times, they actually rolled completely over and back. They'd banked so far over they were virtually perpendicular to the ground. At least twice they'd done a complete loop-the-loop, all of it pushing the powerful broom to its maximum. They'd shot out over the lake, then back, up to the road, back across the property, back out over the lake, this time so close to the water Jason had actually got his feet wet.
They finally came to a stop near the back door of the house, and Jason could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage. He loved flying, but the broom ride he'd just been treated to... he slowly dismounted, took several steps forward, and fell flat on his arse, the result of a sudden onset of dizziness.
Mace, of course, was mortified. "Jason?"
Jason, however, burst out laughing. Oh sure, it was scary, but would he do it again? Absolutely!
"You're all right?"
"Fuck yeah," Jason answered, although he continued to sit on the ground, the world still spinning a little too fast for comfort. "That was almost as good as a good shag, I think." Mace arched an eyebrow, but leaned the broom up against the side of the house, and flopped down beside Jason on the ground.
"It wasn't quite as... um... intense as being shot into space, but... damn!"
Dizzy as he was, Jason smirked, and pulled them both down so they were looking up at the sky. "Thanks."
"For what?"
"Some of my happiest moments have been on a broom. You just added another, I think."
their quiet moment was interrupted, as a pair of red heads appeared on brooms of their own. "You coming, Jason?"
"Just a minute or two, but yeah."
"That was some wicked flying, mate," said George.
"He does know how to fly a plane, guys."
Fred arched an eyebrow. "A real areoplane, like what dad is always on about?"
Mace nodded. "Something a lot more complex than what you might imagine, but the idea's still the same. They all work the same way."
"Wicked."
"No, wicked is seeing Earth from up there..." Mace pointed up at the sky. "Not just... in flight. From outer space. Really puts a lot of things into perspective."
"Not following," said George, looking confused, "Getting up there, like really up there? Can't be possible."
"Trust me, it is. This is what... year 2000 here? We've already been into space... uh... not sure how many times up to now, but it's nothing small. We've been to the moon and back."
"You're pulling our leg."
"Jason, I think your mate here is gone 'round the twist," said George.
"Jason... could I borrow your pensieve later? I'll bet the pair of you... twenty of your gold coins... that I'm telling the truth."
"Actually you wouldn't even need to do that. A Muggle museum would have stuff on that," said Jason, "I'll ask Ty or Sandra. But guys, really. Muggles have done a lot more than we give them credit for." He sat up, no longer feeling the very motion of the earth beneath him. "Right. We going flying or not?"
"Right."
"Mace... coming?"
They only broke for dinner, and spent a good part of the evening in the sky, only landing when the sun was just about gone over the horizon. All in all, it had been a good day spent with his strongest supporters. However, the heat, coupled with the stress of everything over the past day or so had him bid everyone a good evening, with his boyfriend quick to follow, tired or not.
"You okay?"
"Just wore out," Jason answered, leaning his broom up in the corner behind the door, "Just need a bit more down time. I trust Bill will look after his family for the night and so on." He let out a sigh. "At least the room's not an oven anymore. Merlin, this morning I thought the house was on fire."
"Slept like the dead, didn't notice until you woke me up. Jesus, that was warm. Nowhere back where I came from ever got that hot, I don't think... not in my lifetime anyway. Honestly, it actually felt good. You don't know what cold is until..."
"Mace... I do, remember? We almost froze to death."
"Fair enough. But our own planet..."
"Yeah... I guess I see your point." He shed his shirt, tossing it into a nearby chair. His shorts quickly followed, leaving him in his undershorts. He flicked his wand at the door, casting a moderate locking charm on it. "We won't be bothered so easily in the morning."
Jason once again found himself in the graveyard, the high, cold voice calling in a whisper, "Kill the spare."
"Avada kedavra!" cried Wormtail to the night, and Harry spun to see the killing curse strike. But it was not Cedric standing in the path of the green bolt of magic… it was Mace.
"He certainly is a pretty thing, Harry," the Dark Lord mocked, prodding Mace's head with his foot. Wormtail was gone, as was the enormous cauldron.
"Leave him alone!" Jason shouted, but Voldemort simply continued to smirk. "You do realize, I will kill every single individual who stands with you against me, Harry. And then, only when you are alone and friendless, we will meet. Give yourself to me, and this-" he again gestured at Mace's body, "-does not have to repeat."
"NO. I'll never join you, Tom." Jason fought back the tears threatening to leak out of his eyes, and stood defiant. 'Come on, wake up!' he shouted in his mind.
Voldemort's face contorted with fury for a moment, but he relaxed his features. "Come now, Harry, can you be sure this is anything but real?"
"NO! I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!" Jason shouted, his voice echoing across the graveyard, "This... this isn't real. I know it! Not real! Not r...mmmmf..."
Jason's eyes flew open, and he found his lips locked with Mace's. That was it, the dam holding back his emotions finally broke, and the young wizard broke down as they broke for air. Mace did his best to comfort his mate, but was again at a loss as to what was going on, as to what had set him off this time. They had been cleared of all charges, right? They were thousands of miles away from England and the war at this point, right?
It was nearly an hour before Jason would even dare open his mouth.
"K-k-kreacher..." he called, his voice hoarse.
Pop. "Yes master Jason."
"C-c-calming draught, please."
"Of course, master." He popped away, to return only a few moments later with the requested potion. Jason consumed it at once, and took a few deep breaths, letting the foul potion take effect.
"Thank you, Kreacher."
"Is master needing anything further?"
"No. Sorry I disturbed you."
"Kreacher was cleaning up after messy bl—friends." he popped away.
"Sounds like we missed out on the fun," said Mace, daring to crack a smile. It was returned momentarily. "Now what got you all fucked up?"
"Voldemort... in the grave yard. The night Cedric was killed. I haven't shown you the memory yet... nasty substitution."
"Who?"
"You. He... killing curse... and you were gone." The tears again welled up in his eyes, but he forced the emotion down, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
"This shit happen often?"
"No... thankfully not but... you died in front of me!" Jason blurted.
"Just a dream. I... I don't remember my dreams. Dunno whether that's a blessing or a curse, but... wish I could give it to you... if it makes sense."
"Wish you could too, but... I wouldn't wish this on anyone, Mace. No one. In... in the morning, I'll have Kreacher get me some dreamless sleep potions. I can't... take them a lot, because they're addictive, but... occasionally... they do help."
"But you're afraid he'll come after me."
"Mace. He WILL come after you. That dream..." Jason reached up, and touched his scar. It was throbbing, and sure enough, there was the faint speckle of blood in with the sweat. "It wasn't completely false. He knows about you. If he can, he will come after you... just as much as he would the Weasleys... although likely much more. The bastard was overjoyed when he realized exactly what Cedric meant to me." He again took several deep breaths, as he felt the lump rising in his throat. "That's why... I really have to start practising Occlumency. So I can keep him out."
"So this..." Mace dared touch the unusual scar on Jason's forehead, "Is some sort of link to Voldemort. Can he see everything you do?"
"I dunno. I don't think so. I think it's only when we get really emotional. The scary thing is, though... he tried to possess me four years ago. I know this. It was rather painful... for the both of us, but I think far more on his end... see, the one thing he can't stand is something both you and I have in spades: something called love. Dumbledore thinks that's the 'power the Dark Lord knows not' referenced in the prophecy."
"So if I were to do this..." Mace leaned in, and kissed Jason's infamous scar.
At precisely that moment thousands of miles away, the Dark Lord felt a stabbing pain in numerous places across his body. It literally felt like... four years prior, when he had attempted to possess Potter. And... as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Voldemort did not shout or scream or cry out, but the pain was nearly as potent as the Cruciatus curse. What had the boy done to affect him so? Considering, just a little while earlier, he'd sent such a wonderful present to the boy. Perhaps, it was a thank-you card. No matter, he would think of some kind of method by which to repay him...
Jason's eyes snapped open, feeling the thoughts of the Dark Lord. His scar was throbbing a bit, but given the reason, it was worth it.
"He's pissed. You hurt him... not bad, but it hurt. He compared it to his attempt to possess me four years ago."
"You okay?"
"It hurt a little, but... It hurt him more. That's a good thing any day, I think."
"Maybe we should do it more often, then."
"That's twisted, Mace." Jason burst out laughing.
The following morning, Bill was by again, this time bringing with him a copy of the Daily Prophet. "You're not gonna like it, Jason."
The front page featured three different pictures of Jason. One of them was a picture they had used frequently during the Tri-wizard Tournament. The second was a picture snapped of him and Dumbledore in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, immediately following the fiasco there which had cost him his godfather. The third was the front mug shot they had taken of him when he first arrived at Azkaban.
BOY WHO LIVED CLEARED OF CHARGES!
Flees Great Britain, Renounces Citizenship!
- By Rita Skeeter
In a startling turn of events, the International Confederation of Wizards has reviewed the murder conviction of Harry Potter, and declared it void and invalid. In a press release yesterday, the Minister for Magic called the decision, most dire and incomprehensible, perhaps one of the worst blunders the international court could have made. "We all know exactly what kind of danger Mr. Potter truly is to the Wizarding community at large, and will continue to work to ensure said community knows this, and are prepared to deal with the threat he poses."
When questioned about where Mr. Potter is presently, the Ministry was quick to answer, "We received notification he has renounced his English citizenship, and become a Canadian citizen effective August 2nd." There are many questions as to why he would do such a thing, given he was cleared of all charges in relation to the murder of Dennis Creevey over four years ago. This reporter believes the boy is not the noble Gryffindor he makes himself out to be, but a coward, unwilling to face up to the challenges set out by destiny. Or, perhaps it is only an extension of his behaviour four years ago, while he was still a student at Hogwarts—an attention seeking, delusional liar at best. I might concede he is right in the fact You-Know-Who is indeed back, but little else. Perhaps-
Jason didn't bother finish reading. He drew his wand, intending to set the foul paper on fire, but decided to take a different route. "I need to make a floo call." He dropped the paper on the table, and Mace picked it up.
"Who's this Skeeter person?"
"Foul witch, she is," answered Bill, "Wrote dreadful articles about both Jason and Dumbledore during fifth year." Mace frowned, and scanned the article.
"Sandra's gonna chew her up and spit her out for lunch."
"Oh, my thoughts exactly," said Bill, "She won't tolerate this sort of rubbish."
"These people are fucking retards. Calling him a delusional liar? Do that in the New York Times, see what happens."
"Sandra will be by this afternoon," said Jason, reclaiming a seat at the kitchen table. "I'll keep hold of the paper, but it's likely she'll pick up a copy on her own." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "No Occlumency today, I don't think... won't be calm enough."
It was then an owl swooped in through the open window, and Jason almost fell out of his seat.
"Hedwig!" he exclaimed, as the snowy-white owl fluttered down to rest on the corner of the table. She had a letter tied to her leg.
"You are well? People looking after you?" He asked. She simply ruffled her feathers, and blinked her eyes at him, then extended her leg. "From your current keeper, I take it?" He relieved her of the letter. "Here." A slice of bacon was the offering, and she snatched it up happily. Jason, meanwhile, unfolded the parchment. The seal was rather ordinary, just enough to keep the parchment closed.
Harry—Or is it Jason, now?
You are probably beyond angry with the both of us, for our betrayal. In your shoes, I would be too. But I ask you hear us out before jumping to any sort of conclusion. You weren't the only one to be betrayed. So were we, and not by you, Harry—or Jason... God I'm having difficulty getting my head around that one.
You probably already know some of it, knowing you are an intelligent man. But it was Dumbledore who betrayed us, twisted our testimony in the most unflattering way, all to paint you in a bad light in front of the Wizengamot during your trial. (Harry was scratched out here) Jason, you know we wouldn't outright turn our backs on you, not without outside interference.
We discovered the deception about a week ago during a visit to Upper Canada Hospital (It's the Wizarding hospital here in Canada). I will not divulge further details about why we were being seen by a healer, but it did reveal our memories had been tampered with. It was rather startling to realize that four years of our lives have been part fiction. Believe me, both Ron and I were beyond devastated at exactly what had been done. It is safe to say, both of us shed a good many tears over the loss of our friendship with you. Honestly, I would be more than shocked, should you ever wish to see the pair of us ever again.
I do have to say this, Jason. I will always remember that brilliant young wizard coming to my rescue in first year and saving me from that troll. Hope you are well, and I hope you find happiness in a future, whether it be with us or not.
(Hermione had signed her name, as had Ron)
Jason simply sat there, stunned. On one hand, his two closest friends had just vindicated themselves. On the other, yet one more betrayal to lay at the feet of the meddling old headmaster.
"Who's it from?" Mace dared ask.
"It... It's from Hermione and Ron."
"Your backstabbing friends."
"Not anymore. Get me a parchment and a pen. Fawkes?" The bird in question fluttered over from his perch in the living room. Bill, meanwhile, had fetched a page of parchment off the counter, along with a quill and ink. Jason quickly scribbled out a reply, then rolled it up. Fawkes snatched it up in one of his claws. "To Ron and Hermione, okay?" The bird flashed away.
Mace guessed whatever was in the letter was a good thing, because his mate at this point was practically glowing, as though another huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
"I wasn't the only one betrayed by Dumbledore," Jason answered simply.
"So you're just letting them come here?"
"I'll be asking them some very direct questions first," said Bill, with a scowl, "Jason, really, this could be a trap."
"My thoughts too," said Mace.
"It doesn't feel that way, and..." He gestured to Hedwig, who had taken to preening herself on the corner of the kitchen table. He thought for a moment, then scribbled out another note. "Kreacher?"
The elf instantly appeared. "Yes, master Jason?"
"Take this to Professor Snape at Hogwarts. We need a vial of Veritaserum along with the antidote. Find out how much it costs, and I'll pay him back."
"Right away, master Jason." He popped away.
"You're getting potions from Snape," Bill deadpanned.
"I trust him," Jason answered, "As nasty a man as he was toward me, I still trust him. One of only a few professors who actually supported me in some way. Or in his case, when given the chance to hang me, he didn't."
surprisingly, it was Kreacher who returned first, with two small vials in his hand. "One hundred galleons, says the professor, master Jason."
"Of course he would make it expensive."
"The ingredients are expensive, remember," Bill pointed out.
"Right. Kreacher, you mind settling up with him? Just pull out what you need from my vault." The elf gave a low bow, and again popped away.
"Still fucked up how he's able to do that," said Mace, shaking his head, "Going form here across the Atlantic just like that—" he snapped his fingers as he finished speaking.
"That's the nature of it though. There are a good number of things in our world that work much faster, and perhaps far more conveniently than in the Muggle world," said Bill, "Wait until you learn how to Apparate."
"Do what?"
"Apparition. You've seen Sandra and Ty do it... me, come to think of it."
"Yeah, something else we need to think about," Jason agreed. Just then, there was a flash of flames outside, and Fawkes had returned, with two people clutching his tail feathers. "C'mon, let's see if this is for real."
"Har—Jason?" Hermione couldn't believe it. Oh, it was most definitely Harry—or Jason, as he was now calling himself. But he was barely recognizable. He'd become a man during his incarceration, now nineteen, rather than the fifteen year-old boy carted off to Azkaban four years prior.
"Hermione," said Jason. His voice had changed, too. A little deeper now, to match the mature man standing before her.
Hermione, too, had changed. Her hair was no longer the bushy mess she constantly fought with during their time at Hogwarts. It was neatly done up, and well suited her figure. She was a woman now, much like Jason was now a mature man.
Ron, was still Ron. He'd matured as well, but it was somewhat like looking back four years, when it came to the red head. He'd certainly grown a little taller, a little more stocky, but it was so easy to remember their first meeting on the train eight years prior.
"How are ya, mate?"
"After getting your letter, loads better," said Jason, brightly. His smile dimmed, however. "However. As much as I want to trust things at face value, I've learned I can't. So I have to ask you guys some questions... while you're dosed with this." Jason opened his hand, revealing the vial of Veritaserum.
"If that's what I have to do to have my first friend back, then so be it," said Hermione, bluntly. Ron said nothing, but nodded in agreement.
"We're only going to ask a few questions, but I think it'll get right to the point as to whether you're being honest or not," said Bill, casting a scathing glance at Ron. He then gestured with his wand, conjuring a few chairs. "Let's sit down."
Jason decided he would question Hermione first, and she allowed three drops of the clear liquid to fall on her tongue. Waiting for the appropriate time, he then asked, "What sort of potion did you create during our second year?"
"It was polyjuice potion," she answered, her tone being dull and relaxed.
"And where was this potion prepared?"
"In the second floor girls' bathroom."
"Good. It's working," said Jason. Bill then picked up the questioning. "Did you believe Harry Potter was guilty of murder?"
"No."
"Did you willingly participate in the prosecution of Harry Potter during his trial for the murder of Dennis Creevey?"
"No. I was memory-charmed and compelled to testify against him."
"Who cast the memory charms and compulsion charms?"
"I don't know... but it may have been Dumbledore."
"I'm satisfied," said Bill.
"Then so am I," said Jason, producing the second vial. This one contained a slightly cloudy mixture—the antidote. It was quickly offered.
The questioning went virtually the same for Ron, with a similar result. It was at that point, Jason greeted his old friends warmly, as all was forgiven.
"I guess now that all that awful business is out of the way, I want to introduce you to someone."
"Finally remembered I'm here, huh?" Mace smirked. He'd taken to standing by the house, keeping out of the meeting to this point.
"Guys... James Mace... my, uh..."
"Boyfriend," Mace smirked again.
"Mace... my best friends, Ron and Hermione." They shook hands firmly, and Mace said, "Up to this morning, your names were swear words around here, I think."
"Don't blame you guys at all," said Ron, "We felt horrible when we found out."
"What happened anyway? I mean, don't go into too many details, but-"
"Dreams. Hermione was having weird dreams," Ron supplied, "So we went to see a mind healer in Toronto. They discovered several memory charms, including obliviation. Everything that happened during your trial was a farce, mate."
"Which was overturned, but you guys know that."
"Oh, yes absolutely! We danced around the kitchen when we saw the National Wizards' Standard. That's why we sent Hedwig."
"Guess it should have been some sort of flag, y'know. Hermione and I left England two years ago, and your bloody bird actually came and found us!"
"You're twisting my leg," said Jason, shaking his head.
"I swear it," said Ron, "About six days after we moved into our flat in Vancouver, there she was, preening herself on our balcony."
"Vancouver?"
"Yeah, wanted to put as many miles between us and England as we could... nearly went for Australia, but..."
"Mum and dad decided it would be nice if we were close to aunt Heather. She lives in Victoria, so it's just a ferry ride to visit," Hermione picked up.
"You guys in a Muggle neighbourhood, or in a Wizarding community?"
"Muggle community, but... we have a floo connection, if you're wondering."
"Excellent. So do we." Jason leaned back in the seat he was in. "God, your letter was so timely. I was ready to commit murder, I think."
"Who and why?" came Hermione's question.
"Rita Skeeter, for calling me an attention-seeking liar. I think though, she's about to find out she can't do that to me anymore and not face consequences." There was that creepy smile again.
"You mean sue her. Har—Jason, she's an English witch—"
"It won't matter. Not according to my attorney anyway. That's why they don't tend to say a lot about things outside of England. They normally know not to. Skeeter seems to have forgotten that, and that wonderful little error on her part will prove costly. If I have my way, her poison pen will be snapped for good." He thought for a moment. "You guys stick around, you'll probably meet my attorney. She's coming over this afternoon to discuss this... bug problem." That caused Hermione to crack a smile, remembering the end of forth year. Jason let out a giggle. "Y'know, I hope when she comes to face charges, she tries to get in using her Animagus form. They'll cart her off to jail in a heartbeat."
"Animagus? What's that?" Mace questioned.
"Some witches or wizards can change into an animal at will," Bill explained, "You've met Professor McGonagall. She has an animal form, although I won't tell you what it is... but point being, you wouldn't know unless they told you. If you ask nicely, she might show you. But point here, Rita Skeeter's an unregistered Animagus. You have to register with the Ministry if you're able to do it. Not doing so can earn you a prison term."
"Can anyone learn that?"
"Well, my dad and his friends did, but... it's not something easy, that's for sure. It took them a few years, I think... least what I could gather," Jason answered, "And my godfather... Sirius... he could turn into an enormous dog." He momentarily darkened at the thought of him.
"Mr. Mace..."
"Just Mace."
"Er... right. You're new in the Wizarding world, then?" Hermione asked.
"Pretty much, yeah. Jason's been helping me learn, shit like that."
"You didn't get a letter when you turned eleven?" Ron was confused.
"Guys... he got his magic in an... unusual manner. Show them your ice spike."
"You mean this." It happened in the blink of an eye. The orb appeared in Mace's hand, he held it up, and with a loud KAWHACK! A shard of ice blasted from his hand, to impact with the ground about thirty feet away. The impact sounded like someone had busted a plate glass window.
"He disarmed Dumbledore with it," said Jason, proudly.
"'course that was... shit... well over a month ago now." Mace shook his head, as it sunk in. All that had happened over the short time he'd been with Jason.
"All right?"
"Just thinking. Just over a month ago, I was an engineer on a spacecraft. Magic was something so far out in left field... fuck, it's not funny, right. I nearly die in below freezing water, and here comes this scruffy thing the cat could've dragged in off the street, hauls my ass out of the water, brings me back to life... uses his wand—I just thought it was a stick at first..." He shook his head again, but grinned. "Yeah... so he has this weird device on him, and a thick book. I opened it, and fuck... it was like getting a crash course in magic. Best description."
"And if you think that's bullocks..." Jason stowed his wand, and produced a similar glowing orb in his hand. Another KAWHACK! And another shard of ice impacted the ground in exactly the same spot as Mace's projectile had landed.
"Books that instantly teach magic? Wicked," said Ron, "So could we read it?"
"Not that one. It vanished the second I read it," said Jason, sadly.
Hermione, though, stared at Mace, wide-eyed. "Wait. You're saying, you weren't born magical?"
"Exactly that, Hermione. And please don't pester him about it. We still don't know exactly how it works. And yes, he can use a wand, too."
"Though it's hard making it work."
"Yes and Mr. O'toole did say you would. You've almost got the levitation charm working."
"You have trouble with your wand?" Hermione guessed.
"O'toole did say it was 'unyielding'," Jason remembered.
"Oh, bad luck there, mate," said Ron.
"No, I think it's brilliant. Sure, he'll have a bit of trouble taming it, but God... once he does..." Jason slid an arm around his boyfriend. "He'll be a force to be reckoned with."
"What, I'm not already?"
"Oh, you're funny..." Jason stuck out his tongue.
The day was wasted, as Jason got caught up with his old friends. Hermione was studying to earn her teaching credentials—for some reason this did not surprise Jason in the least. The young witch was a bookworm through and through, so it was only fitting she would fall into a career track that involved lots of reading, and lots of studying. Ron, meanwhile, had a try out for the national Quidditch team coming up in September. Once again, it so made sense. After all, his friend was mad about Quidditch. He also had an interview lined up with the headmistress at Upper Canada Academy for Wizarding Studies, the Wizarding school in Canada, for the position of flying instructor. Word had gotten out their current instructor was looking to retire soon. Naturally, being the flying instructor would also mean being the referee for Quidditch matches, among other things.
One thing was clear. Much like Jason had, his best friends had long since left England behind, learning there were better places in the world, far from the madness unfolding there. They were carving out a new life for themselves, and he had to wonder how long it would be before the pair actually tied the knot. That got him to further think: how many more of his allies could he drag away from merry ole England? If Voldemort wanted to rule the British Wizarding world, then perhaps he should. It would serve the lot of them right.
Sandra Apparated in just after dinner, bringing with her another stack of forms, as well as a copy of that day's Daily Prophet. After introductions, she got right down to business.
"What do you want to do, Jason?"
"Best question, what can I do to her? I'm sick of her poison pen, I really am."
"Given you're now a Canadian citizen, you're protected by our laws in both the mundane world and the magical world."
"No shit," said Mace, "Fuck, I'd love to see her try and pull that shit working for the New York Times, see how far she gets."
"Well, we know the answer to that one: it wouldn't leave the editor's office, and she'd likely be fired. Even with the National Wizards' Standard, our paper, it wouldn't make it to press."
"Nail her to the wall. That's what I want," said Jason, gravely.
"Who and what?" Hermione questioned.
"Rita Skeeter. She had some rather interesting things to say about me in the Prophet today," said Jason, tossing over the paper. "In a way I knew she'd have something to say about me, laws be damned. Now I get the pleasure of paying her back for all the lovely comments she's made about me the past few years."
"By suing her," Hermione guessed.
Jason gave an abrupt nod. "You got it. I have a rather lengthy shit list, right... and honestly, up to this morning, the both of you were on it."
"Jason... you have no idea how difficult it was, once we realized what had truly happened," said Hermione.
"When I was in Azkaban, some of the things that went through my mind, was what I'd say to you two should we ever meet again. I swore up and down I'd never forgive either of you, unless there were some extenuating circumstances—circumstances which obviously came to pass... should have known my two best friends wouldn't turn their backs on me willingly."
"I will be having a chat with a few people in Geneva over the next couple of weeks," said Sandra, "Given the scope of the crimes and so on, I think I might be able to make a case for the ICW to convene a special tribunal. I make no promises, since the last such tribunal took place just after Grindelwald was defeated."
"I think that would be brilliant," said Jason.
AUTHOR NOTES: So... Mace flying a broom like a maverick? Think about it. Not only was he the Icarus II's engineer, he was also the co-pilot. He would certainly understand flight dynamics & so on, and I strongly suspect he likely had some sort of flight training as well. So yeah, he wouldn't have any trouble mastering the broom.