A/N
Unbetaed for now.
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Drill-Sergeant Cullen
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Ministry of Magic – Training Room – October 1996
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"Thank you for your help, Croaker," Cullen said while taking a good look around. Together with Marius Black, Argus Filch and Benjamin Granger, he had arrived at the Ministry to continue their training. Usually it needed years of practice to learn how to competently use the weapons and acquire the skills of a Templar. Even with the help of this room he could only hope to teach them the basics. However, it was everything he could do with the narrow timeframe he was constrained to. And Cullen had no doubt that their presence could well become a decisive factor in the big battle.
"Amelia helped a lot too, Cullen," Croaker responded, watching the young man thoughtfully. Amelia had told him about their heated 'fall-out' a few days ago and he struggled to understand the reasoning behind it. Croaker shared the opinion of most Ministry workers on the Dementors: fearsome, weird and not very trustworthy, but you can't do without. He would add another point to this: better hire them and have them under your watchful eye than leave them to themselves and someday face their wrath. Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.
Cullen however had a different opinion about the whole matter, a different way to 'solve the problem': KILL THEM ALL.
Following his line of thoughts was easily comprehensible. Cullen equated them with Demons. According to him they were non-native creatures to this world, creatures that shouldn't be allowed to stay here because their sole reason of existence was to hurt humans. Feeding on their emotions and with the ability to destroy their souls – it was an opinion that had already been expressed a few times by others in the past. Their very nature had been a big point of discussion for decades. The Ministry didn't like those arguments as they disputed the Ministry's right to use them as guards and executioners. But Cullen certainly wasn't the only one thinking like this, his stance was only a tad more… volatile.
Amelia had tried more than once to get rid of them as well. She wasn't as opposed to them as Cullen was and she certainly understood the financial reason to make good use of them. However, she still thought of them as untrustworthy, which didn't bode well with a prison guard job description.
Hopefully they'll reconcile again, Croaker mused. Cullen and Amelia need to cooperate if we want to succeed in this war.
"This is a special training room of the DMLE. We originally set it up a few years ago to have a means of preparing Aurors for unusual missions. The time passes faster in this room and you actually age accordingly to being in here. Because of that it is not recommended to spend more than a few days or a very few weeks in this room. We tested a few different set-ups to find a middle way between offering the trainee a maximum of training time and not overtaxing his body. In the end we decided to schedule a seven to one ratio: you get seven days of training for every day spent herein."
"We'll have around two weeks of real time to prepare ourselves," Cullen responded calmly "to still have enough time afterwards for the rest of the preparations and plan-making."
"That would give you around three months of training time," Croaker calculated.
"Will that be enough?" Ben Granger inquired.
"It has to be," Cullen responded curtly. After a moment he added more softly and assertively: "I think it will be enough to teach you the basics. We won't be distracted and you're all eager and willing to learn. That's a far better situation than my own training when I was a teenager."
Ben Granger smirked. He shortly mused about the fact that Cullen's time as a teenager wasn't too far back but decided not to say this. Instead he nodded and asked: "will it be possible to get news from the outside?"
"Only per written messages," Croaker explained. "You'll be able to answer the same way. Because of the magic it's not possible for a messenger to enter the room once the time compression started. The shock would cause serious injuries. And we already learned that Patronus messages aren't especially useful. They retain the time frame of their originator, making the message spoken in sevenfold speed at its arrival in the room. No, we'll have to trust the written word. I intend to write you two times a day; that allows you to get news around every three training day. We'll send you our plans too about the operation as soon as we get news from Professor Snape."
Apart from Cullen's small group only a selected few knew about Severus' part in this plan. Amelia, Kingsley and Croaker were the only Ministry officials among those selected few.
"Alright, sounds good to me so far," Cullen accepted the explanation without further comment. "Let's have a look at our home for the next three months."
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Hogwarts – Hospital Wing
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"Two stabs before you do the circling motion," Madam Pomfrey corrected Luna's newest attempt at setting a broken bone.
The blonde Girl's usually so dreamy appearing eyes were full of concentration right now. She wanted to learn this; she had to learn this. Perhaps a life would depend on her abilities. This time she executed the spell perfectly and the dummy showed the proper result.
"Perfect, Luna," Madam Pomfrey commended her casting. "Well done, let's take a break. We don't want to overtax you."
For a second Luna looked like she wanted to complain but then she only nodded. There was no sense in disagreeing with the nurse. Madam Pomfrey had far more experience in how much she could ask her to do. In relaxed silence the two witches tidied the room. It was Luna's training room and the excuse of Cullen's absence at the same time. As far as the students knew, Cullen was ill and being treated at the Hospital Wing, his recovery delayed because his body didn't react well to healing magic.
His sick room actually had a 'patient' waiting for treatment. It was a practice dummy Madam Pomfrey got from Rosmelda Prewett, senior healer at St. Mungo's and an old friend of hers. It was charmed to show signs of all kind of diseases and injuries, from upset stomach to serious poisoning, from small cuts to life-threatening hexes. Today they trained how to set and heal broken bones, from broken noses to shattered femurs. Madam Pomfrey had been trying to lay her hands on one of those dummies for years, but so far the board of governors hadn't been willing to spend the money on it. Only now it seemed to change as they had accepted the need of a healing class for a selected few witches and wizards in preparation for a later Healer training.
"You have the touch, Luna," Madam Pomfrey remarked thoughtfully.
"The touch?" Luna wondered.
"It's how my trainer called it," Poppy smiled. "You 'feel' the body, the nuances of illness and injuries. You need it to become a proper healer. Everybody can force a broken bone together. However, to do it with the right amount of magic and tangent to address the injury, not to overtax the patient's body and not to exhaust yourself too much in the process – you need the 'touch' to accomplish that."
"And you really think I have it in me?"
"I'm certain, Luna," Poppy nodded. "You'll become a great healer – if you want it to be."
Luna nodded slowly. She had never imagined being something different than a researcher, a xeno biologist and xeno botanist. She only offered to train the healing arts because she wanted to help in the coming fight. Like Hermione there was no way of keeping her away, not when her friends – and Cullen – risked their lives. Knowing that she wasn't a very powerful witch – she had neither Ginny's battle temper nor Hermione's sheer power – she wouldn't be of much help with her duelling skills. Healing however would certainly be more than welcome.
Win the fight, survive the fight – she wanted to make the second part certain.
"I'll think about that."
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"You're still a disgrace, Looney," the voice sneered in her direction.
Luna had just left the Hospital Wing and was on her way back to the 'Claws' dorms when a couple of students intercepted her. They had apparently been waiting for her, hiding in the niches. It couldn't have been difficult to find her as she was used to spent a part of every afternoon with Madam Pomfrey – and officially with her friend/not-yet-boyfriend. Her schedule was predictable. Luna counted five students, two 'Claws and three Slytherins, under the leadership of Lisa Turpin and Theo Nott.
Since the last incident, there had been fewer students harassing her. Most of the neutral Slytherins left her alone for now and quite a few 'Claws started to accept her, following the lead of Padma Patil and Marietta Edgecomb. Pansy Parkinson, while not overly friendly or even polite, was in her 'wait-and-see' mode, observing the matter and trying to puzzle out the situation. She wasn't on speaking terms with either Draco or Nott right now, not willing to take a side. Because of this 'betrayal' Nott had dissed her and started to court Lisa Turpin. Today, with Cullen gone for nearly a week already, it was apparently hassle-the-Looney time again.
"Today there is no blood-traitor here to defend you," Nott sneered "and no squib to hide behind." He pointed his wand towards her but so far only threatened her.
"I wouldn't be too certain about the Squib part, Mister Nott," a calm female voice broke the stalemate. The well-known figure of Petunia Evans rounded the corner, Mrs. Norris close behind.
"What do you want?" Nott sneered. He glanced around, happy to notice that the woman was alone. "You worthless…"
"Don't finish that sentence," her confident voice whipped him into obedience. "And put your wand away: no spell casting in the corridors." Her eyes wandered over the students present, counting their numbers and houses: "Oh, and twenty points from Ravenclaw as well as thirty from Slytherin for harassing a student."
"You can't do that," Nott objected. "You have no right…"
"Oh but I do," Petunia said calmly. "as long as Mister Filch is visiting his sister, I'm his substitute, with all rights and privileges." The students hadn't liked the change one bit when Professor McGonagall announced that Argus Filch was allowed from now on to take points and order detentions – only up to twenty points and three days of detention per incident and student, but it was a start to bolster his status. He was a toothless dog no more. "And Mister Nott: one detention with Paddoc, next Friday afternoon." Petunia had been giddy to see Hogwarts at last. This day was only the icing on the cake. Not to forget her promise to Cullen to watch for his little girlfriend.
Nott paled but still tried to be 'important'. "We Slytherins have a party on Friday."
"I know," Petunia smiled thinly. "The Hufflepuffs do as well. So much to do. I'm certain Paddoc will find a tray and an apron for you to serve drinks to the Badgers."
Even the Slytherin snickered at the image, while Nott's face turned from pale to fiery red. "My father will hear about this."
"You sound like Draco," Luna interjected with her usual-dreamy voice. "Like an eleven-year-old Draco I have to admit. He grew up since then."
Luna's words were the last straw and Nott actually raised his wand to hex her. He didn't consider the woman – she was a squib, worthless and unimportant. Before he had a chance to notice what happened, something hit him in the face. It wasn't a slap like he perhaps would have expected from a girl. The boy that had been known as Dudley Dursley for more than fifteen years would have been proud to watch his mother right now. He would have recognized the 'jab' for what it was. The straight punch was very fast and accurate. It hit Nott's left eye straight on and certainly more shocked him more than that it hurt him. It certainly interrupted the spell cast though.
Nott stared at her with wide eyes, before – in a burst of stupidity – pointing his wand towards her. Not waiting for him to start hexing her, Petunia proved that her accuracy wasn't a fluke: a second jab hit his nose and broke it. Luna actually felt no urge to show off her newly-found healing knowledge. The prat deserved the pain. Instead she watched him like an interesting insect while his blood dropped to the floor.
Petunia glanced around, guessing the reactions of the other students. Lisa Turpin was clever enough to call it quits. She raised her bare hands to show that she was no part of this.
"Traitor," Nott growled, but even the other two Slytherins felt no urge to come to his defence. They didn't want to serve drinks to the badgers too.
"This is your grave, Nott," Lisa shrugged. "Continue digging if you must, but without us." Without waiting for an answer, the two 'Claws departed.
"Don't be late for your Friday duty, Mister Nott," Petunia advised "or I will make it three detentions serving drinks in the Great Hall."
Regretfully this wasn't the end of the matter but Petunia couldn't know this.
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Ministry of Magic – Training Room – October 1996
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"Everything alright, Cullen?" Ben asked softly.
Since their arrival he had watched the troubled young man with a bit of a worry. It was obvious how often Cullen still thought about those Dementors and about the fight. One man had died, and a woman had lost her magic thanks to Cullen. The Templar hadn't expected to meet something in the middle of the Ministry so similar to the Demons of his home. However, there had been something more, something he didn't tell the others. While he was close to the Dementors, he sensed, heard and saw memories of his past, memories of all the hideous things he had seen: families that left their magical children on the church's doorstep; blood mages tainting all humans around them; elven clans fearing their human neighbours because they had a different way of living and a different view on magic.
Most of all however he saw pictures of the fight at the Circle Tower, of Templars slain and mages possessed. He had felt so helpless back then and he had felt helpless when the Dementors surrounded them. Despite all his training: without Kingsley's Patronus holding them off long enough for him to recover, he wouldn't have been able to defend himself. Never again did he want to feel this helpless.
"It's alright," Cullen answered not very convincingly but for now Ben didn't press the matter. "And you? Everything alright, Ben?"
Ben realized Cullen was speaking about Beatrice's absence. He nodded slowly. "I miss her but she understands." He sighed. "I'm happy she's not a squib as well. I wouldn't like the idea of her risking her life during the battle too."
"You wouldn't be able to keep her back otherwise," Cullen grinned knowingly.
"No, I wouldn't," Ben agreed. "She's far too much like her daughter."
"Where is she now?"
"Living with a friend of hers in London. She accepted that she can't see me while I am here but Kingsley promised to play messenger boy between us."
"It's good to have that at least," Cullen looked sad for a moment.
"You miss her, don't you?" Ben asked, without having to utter her name.
"I do," Cullen admitted. "It's weird. I've known her for only a few months now but…"
"It feels far longer?"
Cullen nodded with a weak smile. Ben put a hand on his shoulder: "you'll see her again. And you'll have time to think about your future, a future in better times. Don't worry too much. All will be good."
Cullen sighed. "I'm not certain about that." He was thinking more about his presence in this world and not about the incoming battle. Ben understood.
"We have to believe, Cullen."
"You're right, Ben. We have to believe." While he was the teacher these weeks, he accepted and liked the idea of a father figure. It really helped.
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Privet Drive 4
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"Who are you? Get out of my house." His usual temperament was showing through but Vernon wasn't nearly as confident as he tried to show. He hadn't forgotten the warnings, the pleas of Harry and Petunia to leave his home. He hadn't believed them back then, had been stubborn and unwilling to listen. Vernon Dursley started regretting that decision the moment this dark robed, silver masked man appeared in his sitting room.
"Go away, you freak," Vernon slowly stepped back towards the chimney, fully intending to grab one of the pokers resting there.
His intruder's slightly amused voice stopped him. "Your dear wife isn't around?"
"N…no," Vernon shuddered. He could sense the man's disappointment. It was the Saturday after the Luna-Nott incident and on a usual weekend his wife would have been around, but not anymore. "She left me. I don't have a wife anymore. Or a son." His sadness was obvious.
"Pity," the intruder commented without any honest compassion. "Not enough of a man for her anymore?" He asked, his eyes on the wobbling mountain of fat in front of him.
Vernon's face turned puce. "It's only that freak's fault – that boy's."
"Potter?"
"Yeah, Potter, worthless piece of shit that he is," Vernon sneered, feeling more confident now with the man speaking with him, his voice telling him that he shared Vernon's opinion about the boy. "He convinced my poor Petunia to leave me." He hadn't believed for one moment her explanations as to why she left him. Why should their marriage suddenly be bad for her or Dudley? Their family life had been wonderful all these years and out of the blue it started to hurt her and his little boy?
Barely a month after her departure, the divorce papers arrived. Officially she already applied for divorce one year ago. Vernon assumed the papers had been falsified, somehow magically backdated. Mrs Petunia Dursley was now Miss Petunia Evans again. A very angry Ted Tonks had convinced him to leave sole custody of his little boy to her, leaving him with the choice of giving in or facing a trial for child abuse. Naturally he had never abused the Potter brat but there would be no fairness for him in such a trial, not with more of those freaks playing judge and jury. With a bleeding heart he had given in, his fatherly pride getting another nick as Petunia told him about Dudley's change of name.
Not only did Dudley accept Petunia's new/old last name, but he also changed his first name. Something about Dudley not being good enough for him anymore. He was Liam Evans now. What a stupid name.
While all these things were running through his mind, the intruder was still there, hanging on his own dark thoughts. He had hoped to find that blasted woman at her own home this weekend, or at least a caring husband and spoilt son. Their deaths would have sent that bitch a sign not to mess with his family. He had no chance to get her at Hogwarts, so her 'loving family' had to do.
"That bitch of a wife of yours messed with my family. She dared to attack my son. I can't allow that to happen, especially not from a worthless squib like her."
Vernon had no idea what son he was speaking about and certainly didn't know what a 'squib' was. However, he felt the mood swing to his disadvantage. This man meant business and he was dangerous, he could feel it. "She isn't my wife anymore. It's not my fault…"
"Silence," the intruder shouted. "You should have taught her better. It's the man's duty to teach his wife obedience." This at least Vernon could subscribe. "You have failed and now you have to pay."
He raised his wand. There was a red light… then… darkness.
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With a cough Vernon came back to consciousness. For a moment he had no idea where he was or what had happened. He remembered a red light. That freak used magic, he realized with heartfelt fury. He tried to move but found himself bound to the chair. Looking down he noticed a weird 'something' binding him to the chair instead of shackles or ropes.
Why has he…?
He coughed again, this time noticing the reason: smoke, there was smoke in the air. Only now he actually heard the sounds too: some kind of crackling and hissing. And it felt hot, especially from the door where more smoke was trickling into the room.
Fire! He realized with horror. The house is burning.
With renewed energy he fought against the bindings… to no avail. As the first flames licked under the wooden door, Vernon started to scream. He wouldn't stop until the house came crashing down ten minutes later.
The neighbours, who had called the fire brigade far too late, would never forget those sounds.
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Ministry of Magic – Training Room – October 1996
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"Parade!" Steel met steel as the swords clashed against each other.
"Riposte!" Marius grinned as he avoided Argus' strike with a graceful move. Argus rolled his eyes in annoyance but returned the grin after a moment. The grumpy caretaker was far more relaxed than weeks ago. At the start of the training he had been very tense, especially around Black. Despite Black sharing Argus Filch's squib status, the elderly man felt himself judged and somewhat intimidated by his mere presence. Marius was still a member of the famous/infamous Black family. He was rich; he had education and a respected name. On a more personal level he had presence, charm and manners, not to speak of being nearly as handsome as Sirius Black. In another situation he wouldn't have shared a word with Argus, the measly man of Hogwarts. However, Marius had tried hard to break through Argus Filch's shell and after a while he got some success.
It certainly helped that Argus and Marius were often paired in their sword training. Argus wasn't all too talented as a fencer. He would never win a championship. But he was surprisingly strong and – after getting rid of his arthritis – much faster and agile than expected. Most important however was his sheer determination. Argus could go on and on with his dry runs – stance dance and dummy attacks – for endless hours without breaking a sweat. He never complained, never argued against critic or an order to repeat a lesson. He simply obeyed and slowly he improved, slowly but steadily.
My drill Sergeant-Templar would have been proud, Cullen mused more than once. With a bit more talent Argus could be a great fencer. Even now he would be a bad surprise for more than one pureblood, Cullen was certain.
He left the pair of fencers behind, knowing that Marius would be able to continue the training on his own. Marius had been the only one of the trio with prior fencing training. He was certainly the most talented with a sword. With another two years of intense training he could perhaps even get the better of Cullen – perhaps. In any case, it should be enough after three months in this room.
"You wait too long between exhaling and shooting," he commented Ben's last shot. It was an '8'. Ben nodded curtly and tried again. He was by far the best shot among the three novices. Cullen was certain that Ben had the face of that young Death Eater before his eyes every time he shot a bolt at the target. Cullen still remembered the first man he had to kill, even after more than three years. It would be the same for Ben, especially with him torn between his oath as a healer and his decision to protect his daughter in a more aggressive way.
"Good, that's far better," Cullen praised as the next bolt scratched the bull's eye.
A few days ago they started with moving targets and Ben was very good at guessing how far ahead to aim with a walking or steadily running target. Now he only had to react faster with an intelligent enemy trying to dodge and move erratically. He couldn't trust those purebloods to stay dumb all the time.
"Do you think such a bolt could penetrate a magical shield?" Ben asked while he prepared his weapon for the next shot.
"I tested it once in a session with Professor Flitwick. Apparently a standard Protego isn't of much use against a crossbow bolt. It's not meant to protect against such a concentrated and high-powered physical attack but more against blows or explosions. Only very powerful wizards have Protegos strong enough to last against a bolt. Even Professor Flitwick had difficulties to erect such a shield. However, there are other more appropriate shield spells. They aren't widely known. It would be good for you to learn their motions, especially the Protego. So you'll be able to differentiate and not squander shots."
"Do you know them?"
"Yes," Cullen nodded. "I'll show you later." Despite being unable to cast a single spell, he had learned the gestures and incantations of a dozen different protection spells. He simply wanted to be prepared.
"I would like that."
"Alright, but now continue." Ben only nodded and returned to pepper his target with bolts. He had another 84 in his quiver before a break was allowed. My fingers will never be the same, he sighed internally as he noticed the calluses. But Hermione is worth every one of them.
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Hogwarts – Office of Filius Flitwick
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Harry was day-dreaming with closed eyes, ignoring the low rambling voices around him. He needed this moment of peace. His body ached. He felt every single muscle protest, some of them unknown to him before now. Sirius was showing a new side of his personality: drill-sergeant and torturer.
Every single day they met in the office of Professor Flitwick. The diminutive teacher had his own sparring room for duelling practice with all kind of wards and training dummies. They made good use of them. They had only learned a few new spells so far as their teachers wanted to concentrate on things like endurance, reflexes and intuitive knowledge of the battle field. He was mostly running and dodging Sirius' spells while trying to hit moving targets. Harry would have loved to accompany Cullen into that special training room but he understood that the absence of both of them would be too suspicious. He had to make his presence known at Hogwarts. This left only daily sessions at Professor Flitwick's office – much to the chagrin of one Headmaster Dumbledore.
Tomorrow they would start to integrate his sword into the fights. Unlike Ben, Marius and Argus, he wouldn't get Sirius… err, serious… weapons' drill but only train on a select few manoeuvres and attacks. Sirius wanted him to be able to hit a wand arm or a knee while dodging his enemies' attacks. He wanted him to distract his enemies by waving his sword around while he waited for an opening to put him down with a well-placed spell. Most of all he wanted Harry to train sticking his sword into his enemy where it hurt. Because of this he would train with his gladius in his left hand, not the dominant right.
"You don't have the physical strength to make severe cutting and slashing moves," Sirius had explained. "And your gladius is more created for stabbing anyway. A stab into the stomach will drain your opponent's power dramatically and a stab into the chest will end the fight."
Harry didn't even know if he would actually use the sword in the battle, but he could well use every advantage he had. Anyhow, the most difficult part would be for him to stay back in the battle and watch the others fight. He was fast improving but most of the time Sirius and Remus got the better of him in a duel. He still had much to learn.
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"Any news from Ted?" Hermione whisper-asked Remus a dozen steps away.
So far they used the break to speak about the news they got from Professor Snape. To Harry's horror he had confirmed his dream: Voldemort intended to use Andromeda on Halloween for the creation of another Horcrux. At least he had been able to slightly lessen her emotional torture. And he found an unsuspected ally in Ophelia Nott. Her help was very welcome but still most members of their small group had troubles believing her in her honesty, especially considering her brother and nephew's behaviour.
"He's still critical but stable," Remus answered calmly. "If there is no setback, they want to transfer him from the emergency wing into a traditional sick room this weekend. Tonks is with him today. She wanted to see her father despite being unconscious still."
"I would do the same in her stead," Hermione whispered back, still feeling guilty about it.
"I know," he patted her arm. He watched her for some minutes without saying a word.
"What?" Hermione asked as she felt his eyes resting on her.
"I can't convince you…"
"To stay back in the battle?" Hermione growled. Remus smiled sadly and nodded. "No, you can't. My father will be there." She blushed a bit. "Harry will be there. I can't stay back. I have to help."
"I assumed as much. But promise me to stay with Luna. Don't follow Harry into the middle of it."
She returned his thoughtful look but shook her head after a while. "I can't promise that. I can intend to do just that but in the heat of the moment…"
"Alright, alright, I didn't really expect to get more from you," Remus sighed.
"Harry wanted you to ask me, didn't he?"
Remus shrugged. "You know him. He had to try at least."
Hermione had actually expected far more resistance from him. The one time he had beaten both Sirius and Remus in a two on two fight, Hermione had been injured by one of Sirius' hexes. Harry had gotten a tad 'agitated' and shown his real talent, the one that had been able to defend Sirius and him against dozens of Dementors years ago. His protective instinct towards her had only improved these past weeks, a development she usually liked to see very much. They hadn't really spoken about their feelings so far, deciding to delay it until after the fight. However, she was quite certain he didn't see her as his sister anymore, something that would have prompted him to lock her up and lose the key before allowing her to take part at the battle. No, he apparently started to see her as his partner, allowed and fully in her rights to be there alongside him.
It was quite contrary to how he treated Ginny and Ron. Both weren't part of this group. They didn't train; they wouldn't be there. Harry didn't invite them and Molly wouldn't have allowed it anyhow. Hermione had heard about her decision: with her being the better duellist of the couple and not willing to endanger both parents, Molly would accompany them but Arthur would stay behind. Charlie and Bill would be there too but none of the other Weasley children would. The twins, Weasley-red, had raged against her decision, told her where to stick it since they were adults now and making their own decisions. It needed some serious talk from Bill to convince them. Molly's feelings as a mother certainly were a big part of that talk as well as the need to have the twins take care of Ron and their baby-sister Ginny – not that Ginny really appreciated the idea of needing a baby-sister.
Far too soon, Sirius' voice, far too amused for their taste, got them back to reality: "break is finished, time to get on with it."
Hermione allowed Remus to pull her up, feeling like an old lady with aching joints. "He enjoys this far too much."
"He does," Remus agreed with a grin. "Come on, let's have some fun…"
And the torture continued.
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Ministry of Magic – Training Room – October 1996
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Fourteen weeks had passed for his pupils and him, fourteen weeks of training, fighting and meditation. Cullen was more than content with the result. They knew how to use their powers and weapons, when to attack and – perhaps most importantly – when to stand back and let the wizards do their magic. Their abilities were strong and would certainly help more than one fight during the battle, but they couldn't do it all alone. They still needed all the help they could get, be it from his friends, from the Burned Chicken Order or… from the DMLE.
It was partly this insight that caused Cullen to stop and listen when Amelia Bones waited with Kingsley Shacklebolt at the exit and gestured for him to talk to her. Luckily – for her – he had fourteen weeks to cool down as well, fourteen weeks to understand, with a little help from Marius Black who knew far more about the official stance towards Dementors than Cullen, that despite his burning hate towards those creatures, he had no right to enforce his will against all odds. He had to listen to her at the very least. And Amelia Bones hadn't changed, she still was the honourable fighter he had met this summer.
As Amelia opened her mouth, her expression telling Cullen that she felt uneasy about this, he interrupted her. "I'm sorry, Madam Bones." This she hadn't expected. "I shouldn't have reacted like that." He sighed deeply. "I still hate those… Dementors. I still think that they should be destroyed, and that they have no right to be here. But I'm a guest around here. It's not my right to demand anything."
"Thank you, Cullen," Amelia bowed her head. "And I think I understand your reaction a bit better now. I'm willing to discuss that topic at another time. We'll find a solution, I'm convinced. For now however…"
"We'll concentrate on the task at hand."
"Exactly," Amelia agreed, happy to have this solved – for now. "Your training went well?" She asked, gesturing towards the trio of squibs.
"Even better than hoped," Cullen nodded. He addressed his pupils shortly: "go visit your families. Spend a few days with them. We'll meet in three days to finish our preparations. One hour of weapon training and two hours of meditation each day; the rest belongs to your families. My greetings to Mrs Norris, Argus." Ben smiled, eager to see Beatrice again. Marius would go to… Cullen had no idea. He had to ask Sirius if Marius had any family of his own. Argus curtly nodded towards Cullen and Amelia "Ma'am" before leaving, his step far lighter than any student of Hogwarts had ever seen him take.
"What have you done to Mister Filch?" Kingsley wondered.
"Given him a purpose and treated him with respect," was the plain answer. "I expect the same courtesy from your Aurors, Madam Bones. They may be squibs but with their powers each of them is worth three of your men."
"I understand," Amelia responded calmly. She would speak with her men. A little reminder about what Cullen had been able to do so far would certainly ensure their behaviour.
"Madam Bones, Kings," Cullen bowed his head and left.
He really wanted to see Hogwarts again… and Luna.
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Hogwarts
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However, it wasn't Luna who waited for him at the school gate but Harry and Professor Snape. It was obvious that they still didn't like each other. They certainly wouldn't name their children after the other. They were however mostly polite to each other, trying to avoid speaking if possible and being brief and to the point ortherwise. Today they had to be together as they wanted to break the bad news to Cullen.
"He's dead, Cullen," Harry started. "My uncle Vernon is dead."
"Not the greatest loss in itself," Snape deadpanned. Harry didn't even flinch. At least he looked somewhat sad, Cullen assumed because of his aunt.
"How did he die? And more important: why?"
"We told aunt Petunia it's because of me," Harry explained. "It's better than the truth, I think."
"And the truth would be?"
"There has been an incident," Snape interjected calmly. "nothing serious, a little quarrel between students mostly."
"Stay calm," Harry made a soothing gesture towards Cullen. "Nothing happened to her."
"Luna?" Cullen narrowed his eyes. His feet wanted to run to her, but he forced them to stand still.
"Luna," Harry nodded. "Nott junior and a few of his sycophants harassed her when she left the Hospital Wing. Before something could happen, Aunt Petunia intervened."
"Apparently she handed out a detention for Mister Nott, a quite fitting one I have to admit." Snape actually smirked. He liked the idea despite the 'victim' being one of his own students. Naturally he had officially been 'furious about the impertinence'. "Mister Nott, instead of relenting, made the error of drawing his wand, first against Miss Lovegood, then against Miss Evans." He said the name like it was wrong using it towards Petunia. Perhaps he actually felt like that.
"She punched him," Harry said with a broad grin. "Luna showed me her memory. Aunt Petunia punched him in the eye and then she broke his nose." Suddenly his grin vanished as he remembered the result. He never liked his uncle but nobody deserved to die like this.
"Nott senior was furious. He visited Mister Potter's old home and met only Mister Dursley," Snape took over. "He extracted revenge in an appropriate manner – appropriate for a sick mind like his, at least. He magically bound Mister Dursley and burned the house down. The wards were down and the fire brigade wasn't fast enough to save him."
Cullen mulled over the news for the while, while Snape and Harry watched him, the former stoically, the latter traipsing from one foot to the other. Only then did he speak in a slow manner: "she deserves the truth… one day at least, not today. She did the right thing and couldn't anticipate this reaction. In the end it was Vernon's fault too. He was offered the chance to leave. He didn't listen and had to pay the price. It's harsh but in my opinion neither you, Harry, nor your aunt is to blame. However, we'll get Nott for this. And we should find a way to explain his stupid son that his childish behaviour has dour repercussions." He looked Snape straight in the eye: "Please explain to him that I won't tolerate a repeat."
Snape bowed his head. "I understand." He smirked. "And Mister Nott will understand too, I assure you."
"He better will," Cullen growled and for a moment Harry felt a hint of pity – but really only a hint.
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Hogwarts – near ROR
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In silence they gathered in the corridor under the watchful eye of Barnabas the Barmy, guardian of the room of requirements. The end of October was nearing, with only five days left until Halloween. Cullen had chosen this date because he wanted Harry to have a few days to recover from the ordeal – or to have a few days for changing plans should the ritual go awry. He didn't expect it to happen but as Commander Gregoire always said: "you have to be prepared for the worst."
He opened the door and one by one they entered. Harry looked concentrated and a tad frightened as he passed the door, holding hands with Hermione, their knuckles white while the girl offered Cullen a thin smile. Marius Black, Ben Granger, Argus Filch and Arabella Figg entered the room before Cullen stopped Petunia and gestured for her to wait for a moment. Luna was the only one who appeared relaxed. She practically skipped into the room, only shortly pausing to kiss Cullen on the cheek. Like the rest of them she wore some robes that Cullen had ordered from Madam Malkin, close enough in appearance to those robes lay members of the Church of Andraste wore at church. The only ones wearing something different were Harry and Cullen.
For Harry he had ordered the traditional robes of a young Templar undergoing initiation while he donned his full Templar armour today. It had been infused with the magical fluxes of the Fade while he stayed there and Cullen hoped it would help with the task at hand. Without the shadow of a doubt this ritual would be a close call. He had to use enough force to drive this foreign soul sliver away without burning out Harry's mind and soul. Mostly he hoped that Hermione's presence would be enough of an anchor to keep him grounded.
Filius and Severus had asked to be there but he had decided against it. Filius, with his unusual half-goblin nature, was a factor he had no experience how to integrate. Severus, while his knowledge about the dark sides of this world's nature could be very useful, could easily be a disturbing factor because of his tainted aura. In addition, Cullen feared that the ritual would seriously hurt him. He had been honest when he told Severus that he couldn't help him, couldn't cleanse him from his darkness. This didn't mean the ritual's energies wouldn't try to do exactly this – and perhaps kill him in the process.
No, he would stick to these nine people counting himself and start the ritual.
Andraste be with us.
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"Petunia…"
"What?" Petunia narrowed her eyes. She was shrewd enough to guess what this was about.
"I would understand if you wanted to let this pass."
Petunia raised a single eyebrow and offered Cullen a humourless grin. "You fear that I blame Harry for Vernon's death and that it could influence my aura." While she still didn't fully believe all this 'aura crap' and certainly couldn't feel it for herself, she had listened to Cullen often enough to take an educated guess about the nature of his doubts.
Cullen sighed and nodded slowly. As he started to explain, Petunia waved him to wait. "We both know that it wasn't Harry's fault." Noticing Cullen's surprise Petunia continued: "I'm neither dumb nor weak, Cullen."
"I never said otherwise," he scowled.
"But you behaved accordingly," Petunia responded harshly. "The temporal connection to the incident about that Nott boy wasn't a coincidence, I assume."
Cullen hesitated for a moment before he slowly nodded.
"I guessed as much." Now it was Petunia's turn to sigh deeply. "I won't pretend that it doesn't hurt. Vernon has been my husband for more than fifteen years. Despite him not being the best husband, and our divorce, there was a time we loved each other. I'll miss him. I'll certainly grief about the loss when my heart really accepts his death. And I could use a patient ear when all of this is said and done. But I don't blame Harry for this mess." Her eyes hardened. "That Nott boy however…"
Cullen smiled thinly. "He'll stay clear of you for a while. Severus made sure of that."
"Good," Petunia growled. "Then let's start."
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"Relax, Harry," Hermione whispered into his ear.
Her back was resting against a hip-high log, transformed by her into something akin to a seating surface and a backrest, allowing her to sit comfortably for a long time with wide-spread legs. Harry was sitting in front of her, leaning against her chest and for now feeling like a coiled spring. The ritual itself was serious enough. Feeling Hermione's "chest" against his back and her arms around him, as well as having Aunt Petunia and her father watching them closely, did nothing to make him comfortable.
"He won't hurt you," Hermione whispered. "It's not like we have some sex ritual ahead of us with us dancing wildly in our birthday suits." Luckily neither saw the other's face as both turned brightly red at the image. "Really, Harry, it's okay. I'm here as your friend and Dad understands it. I'm here to support you not to cause you to tense up even more. Everything will be alright." She was now speaking more about the ritual than the closeness. Hermione felt tense herself but did her best to trust Cullen and his preparations. She had spoken to him about her part in this ritual before.
"I want you to be there as his friend. He trusts you as you trust him. This connection will anchor him, ground him and give him something to hold on when our circle draws upon that soul sliver. I want you to concentrate on positive memories and images. Remus told me about those Patronus lessons you had. This will be similar.
Remember the moment you met Harry for the first time. Remember the days you started to become friends. Remember every good moment you two spent together in happiness – and then sent him those pictures, those feelings. He will receive them, feel them as well, and it will help him more than anything else.
Harry needs to remember the good things, the reasons to stay, while the darkness in his scar will try to fight us. It's not only dark but semi-sentient too. It won't go freely or willingly. Try to forget your own doubts. Be confident. Be supportive. Be loving."
"Relax, Harry," she whispered again. "I'll be there for you." Be loving. I can do that.
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Luna was sitting on a footstool besides the statue of Mother Rosalia. The whole room had the same appearance as weeks ago with the mighty statue of Andraste domineering it and Rosalia as a comforting presence on the sidelines. The footstool was a very simple one and tended to wobble every time Luna moved, but she smiled broadly. From all persons present she was the only one without any open signs of tensions.
"You'll help them, won't you?" She asked Rosalia and Luna was certain to get a small wink in return. She felt good, happy emotions flooding her heart. From all people around she sensed caring feelings, interweaving to a supporting blanket. With every ritual done in this room, the positive energies had grown in intensity. Cullen had explained her that they thinned the barrier to the Fade with their actions; that this would draw all kind of ghosts towards them while their intentions would drive away the demons that were hurt by this kind of emotions.
Friendship. Caring. Love. Demons didn't like those emotions. Sometimes Luna was certain to see 'something' or better 'someone' watching them. Once she even waved towards the spectators, as the feeling got especially intense.
In a few hours Harry would be free of the scar's influence. He would be happier then, ready to face his future – a future Hermione would hopefully be playing a big part in just like she intended to play a big part in the life of one Cullen Stanton Rutherford.
"Let's start, Cullen. It's time."
Her happy, confident voice did wonderful things to the mood in the chamber previously brimming with tension. One by one, the other inhabitants nodded towards her, most of them offering smaller or bigger smiles, before they took their seats.
Yes, it was time.
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Very close by
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"What do you think of her?" The Lady asked, her eyes resting proudly on the blonde girl. She had watched her since she entered her home five years ago, concerned at the beginning, and happy as she found friends at last. She smiled more these days and reminded the Lady of the girl's mother more and more. The girl had been one of the many cases where Headmaster Dumbledore had utterly failed in his duty. She had been one of the reasons she had prompted Matron Mathilda to welcome the traveller as her new steward. The lady had been silent to the grievances around her far too long. This was going to change and she knew the person she wanted to accomplish this task was in this room; not knowing the destiny that awaited her.
"She's perfect," the Mother answered. "You've chosen well."
"His work is nearly done," the Lady stated calmly. "Your part of the arrangement is almost finished."
"His part in your world was the faster one by far."
"That it was," the Lady agreed. "It was nonetheless important. Without him the boy wouldn't have survived the battle. He would have sacrificed himself to carry out his duty. His death would have broken the girl's heart and those of many others."
"It would have hurt your world immensely to lose these two," the Mother said calmly, her eyes resting now on the couple in the middle.
"Yes, it would," the Lady responded with conviction. "We need his courage and her stubbornness, their knowledge of both worlds and their concern for all beings, to change the world as it should have happened the last two times. We'll need them supporting each other in dark times, when they'll meet resistance of all kind, unwillingness to change and harsh words from all sides. We need both of them at their best because sometimes one plus one gets you three."
"Your society missed the chances for a change fifty and fifteen years ago," the Mother said with a deep scowl.
"I don't intend to allow them to miss their third chance as well," the Lady calmly stated.
"And you won't need my man anymore after the battle?" The Mother wanted to know for certain.
"No," the Lady shook her head. "he was important to start things up, to get the ball rolling. He planted the seed," she gestured towards the person she had in mind for replacing Cullen after his departure. "he'll be completely yours again," she smiled "As will be she."
"I'm grateful for this," the Mother bowed.
The Lady's expression saddened. "Will she be happy? I've seen her unhappy for far too long. She deserves love and joy."
"I will take care of her," the Mother assured her. "I won't lie: the coming years will be long and hard, full of turmoil and strife. Not everybody will be happy, but they'll find new friends and allies at the most unusual places and times. I promise that she'll be happy, Milady."
"I'll hold you to you word."
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A/N
Two chapters to go and perhaps an epilogue.
The last part is perhaps a tad confusing. It's only important as an explanation for Cullen's presence and as a little spoiler for a possible sequel. You'll see more of Mother and Lady in chapter 12.