Parts (97-100)
IV
Chapter 18
The Eye of the Storm
Part 1: Torn
Orous found himself now in a different place, a warm wood-paneled room with a double bed and he also got a good look at Joel's killer. His hands weren't the only things deformed, his face as a mess too. His nose was too big, bulbously and at an angle. His mouth was too long, thin and curved up the side of his face slightly. His eyes were too big, too far apart, at different heights and angled strangely. His ears were too big and stuck out, Orous even though one of his shoulders was higher than the other. Most people would probably look at him in disgust but Orous didn't, he felt only sympathy. He was albino, he knew what it was like to look different and the man had probably had it worse than him. Nonetheless, the man had killed someone even if it was someone as horrible as Joel and his breath still caught in fear as the six-fingered man raised his wand to him. Cringing but it was just some kind of healing spell, the pain in his wrist stopped and it flicked back into place.
"Thank you," Orous told him gratefully and the man gave a grunt as he tapped his wand against the handcuff, snapping it off to show the scars on his wrist that it had hid.
"Don't thank me, kid," the man sighed, sounding sad as he started casting more healing spells on him, erasing or easing the pain in his battered body, "I'm not a good person."
"You don't seem that bad to me," Orous pointed out, except for killing Joel and being involved somehow in his abduction but nice considering. At least he wasn't actively trying to hurt him at that moment, "My name is Orous. Orous Knox. What's your name?"
"Brutus," the man said after a moment's hesitation.
"Nice name," Orous complimented him but Brutus said nothing, "Please let me go home, Brutus. I'm only ten, I won't tell anyone, I promise. Not even about the voice. Just let me go home, please."
"I'm sorry," Brutus whispered apologetically as he finished his healing work, Orous wasn't completely healed but the majority of pain was gone and he thought it was probably the best Brutus could do. He was grateful nonetheless although saddened by his continued imprisonment, he had expected it though. He hung his head tearfully and hopelessly, "Wait? What voice?"
"Erm... Nothing," Orous muttered quickly, he didn't think Brutus believed him but he dropped it anyway.
"How... How about I get you some food, eh? And water? Would you like that?"
Orous nodded and Brutus left, he got up to try open the door but it was locked and saying 'Alohomora' did nothing without the voice. The voice was gone now though. The most obvious thing he noticed that Brutus hadn't healed was his wrist, he realized he had a wound where the handcuffs had been. A continuous line around his wrist and another two either side but disjointed, he didn't understand how he'd gotten the central one was the handcuffs didn't have a central piece of metal to cut him. Brutus returned soon after with a plate piled with food, a variety of meats, a variety of vegetables, different kinds of potatoes, Yorkshire puddings and eggs all compiled in a small mountain with an accompanying bowl of bread drowning in soup. He also gave him a jug of water and glass to drink at his leisure before leaving again, he was certainly much more generous than the muggles and Orous went to sleep full for the first time since before he was taken. However, his other magical captors weren't as kind as Brutus.
The next day he met the gnarled Selwyn and met the Cruciatus Curse for the first time, it was far from the last time he saw either. In place of being returned to the muggles, he was now kept there in that wood-paneled room - which did have an en suite bathroom he was free to use whenever - and was no longer handcuffed so he had more reign. Not that 'free reign' was really how he would describe being confined to two windowless rooms. He was back to being fed infrequently - although his jug of water was always kept filled - and still suffered beatings, he was no longer molested though so he thought that was a major plus. Instead Selwyn - who seemed to be in charge of him - used the Torture Curse on him, insisting he use his own magic to fight back since he was a wizard. Orous had no idea how he was supposed to do that, it was always accidental until you got a wand and went to Hogwarts. He thought he'd probably never get to go to Hogwarts now, not outside of his dreams of the other boy. Mostly he saw Selwyn or younger people who seemed to work for him, he didn't see Brutus again. He did hear him though sometimes, Brutus was certainly higher up the food chain then the others.
Orous heard some very interesting things actually, his own kidnapping was some kind of experiment and hardly relevant to whatever else they were planning. They spoke as if they were planning world domination or something, they were certainly controlling the Hogwarts Headmaster Varanian and planning something there. He thought it was to do with the event he'd witnessed through the dream-boy's eyes with the obelisk thing, the other boy hated Varanian and had no clue he wasn't even himself. Orous liked to experience the boy's non-imprisoned life and everything happening distracted him from his situation, his last threads of hope also clinging to the thought maybe the boy would come to believe him and get help. If the boy was sleeping then Orous had a dreamless sleep but otherwise, he saw through his eyes and could speak to him so he had to try sleep as much as possible during more daylight hours. It wasn't until a few weeks of this that the boy - who Orous assumed had the same deal with their connection - helped him again, joining him during one of his torture sessions and somehow they managed to light the guy on fire. Orous felt bad for what they'd done but not bad that the man hurting him had suffered, he wondered if that made him a bad person. He did learn they had some kind of amulets, even if the collar of their robes covered it. He also learned that they knew about the connection and intended to break it, through murder if absolutely necessary.
Orous was terrified. He didn't want to die, he didn't even want to suffer, he just wanted to go home. He missed his dad and his mum and the dogs, what had he done to deserve this? And then everything changed, out of nowhere there was yelling and magic, the Killing Curse even. One such stray spell even struck the door, spraying splinters everywhere and blasting it open. He could escape, a mixture of fear - of being caught up in the chaos - and curiosity to what was going on got the better of him so he perched himself on the edge of the bed to wait, to listen. It was then that the boy spoke to him but for once he didn't want to talk to him, it would interfere with his escape although he did warn him about the Azkaban breakout they were planning. Not that the boy believed him. He decided now was his chance though, slipping out while they were focused on... whatever they were doing and heading off with his heart thundering in both giddy excitement for the chance of freedom and fear for the chance of failure. His panic had him start running, the place was much bigger than the muggle's house and he was quickly lost. He found a room full of oddly disturbing orbs of light, which was where Selwyn caught him. He was grabbed and half-dragged back to the room with the others, where something that could only be described as a shadow shot towards him
A human shaped shadow with pitch black holes where eyes should be, it stopped right before him. He tried to flee but Selwyn held him tight, allowing it to engulf him. He felt as if he'd been plunged into acrid icy water, the cold chill seeping through his flesh and freezing him to the core physically hurt. The pain receded but he continued feeling as if he should be dripping externally and internally from ice water soaking him through, he wasn't though and he actually heard himself speak. He wasn't the one forming words though, in fact he realized he wasn't even capable of moving. Orous thought he understand how they were controlling Varanian now, he wasn't the one willing his legs to walk as he went over and sat down. The controller wanted the others in the room to see the... severing, Orous barely had time to be terrified before it happened. It was as if jagged claws had dug themselves into him, Deeper than flesh, than bones even. The claws tore into the soul part of him that he couldn't see and they tore him apart, the pain was on a level he couldn't describe. He knew he was screaming, he knew he was convulsing as the talons ripped through him but he couldn't focus on anything but the pain until he felt it.
If someone had told Orous a clawed hand colder than ice held his heart in his hand then he would've believed them, silence fell except for the beating of his own caged heart against the hand. And then the hand started to pull it out, his own scream deafened him as some part of him was roughly rent from him. He was staring up at a beautifully terrible orb of light then, feeling as if he had a gaping hole in his chest that was bleeding. Liquid leaked from his eyes but it barely registered, he could barely breathe through his agonizing wound and everything else was secondary. It could've seconds or hours or even days, he had no sense of time as he stared up at the orb until it was lowered back into him. He gasped and his breathing eased as the pain receded but didn't fade, it seemed dark without the orb's light. The darkness was cold. So cold, chilling through his bones. Sounds were happening but it felt as if it were part of another world, one he wasn't a part of. Something came over to him... a person?
They were making sounds but his mind struggled to grasp the meaning of the sounds being strung together, he was sure they had some significance but he didn't know what. It wasn't to do with him, it couldn't be. 'Orous' was a frequent thing. Did that mean something? He became aware he was moving, he was being picked up and carried. Maybe he was part of the things happening. Wait, Orous... that meant something he was sure. Orous... Orous was that him? Was he Orous? Was that his name? That sounded right. He realized he was no longer being held, he was lying on something soft like a... thing the persons slept on. He was sure that had a name too, he didn't remember. Everything had names in the other world he'd been in, hadn't it? Wait, he'd been part of a world? When did that happen? When did that stop happening? What was happening now then? This was different, he was quite sure this was different. Was he still Orous? Was he not Orous anymore? Had he ever been Orous? Was Orous something else? Was Orous a dog? Why had he thought of a dog? He briefly glimpsed a memory of a dog, a child that might have been him calling 'Lumpy'. Was Lumpy his name? Or was that the dog? What happened to the dog? What had happened to him for that matter? He liked the dog. He sat up to look for it, not realizing a week had passed. He saw only a wood-paneled, windowless room. He missed that dog.
Orous felt crushed as the others left without him, he understood why but it just made him feel useless and powerless to be unable to help. He didn't like feeling useless and powerless in general, let alone when he felt responsible for losing Cassia in the first place and Abby was their friend. On that thought he hurried over to Vern, almost gagging from the scent of charred flesh. It looked almost like the Hufflepuff had been hit by two different spells at the same time, he had a jagged partially-closed wound from his left thigh to the right side of his neck that was still oozing blood and a blistering - still sizzling - blackened burn from his left shoulder to his right hip. And then there was his right arm, Orous didn't know if it had been severed and Michael had partially reattached it or it had just been injured to be barely holding on by a thread. It was a bloody mangled mess. Vern was trembling, his breathing was rasping and his face was a mask of pain. In fact, his skin seemed to have even less color then Orous' own colorless albino skin.
"You're going be okay," Orous assured him, not sure if he really believed but giving Vern some sliver of hope to hold onto through his pain had to be worth something. He wished there was more he could do, "Just hold on, help's coming. They're going to fix you right up."
"Okay, so I know how we can go after them and help," Maurice announced, Orous turned away from his friend to look at his twin incredulously. He realized Latimer had had the same idea as him and came over, he too was giving Maurice a similar expression of doubt, "I just need to know whether you two are in or out."
"Can't it wait until we make sure Vern and Olivia are okay?" Latimer wondered, Orous thought he could probably use healing too as he had a nasty burn on his shoulder and a minor cut on his forehead.
"No. We have to move now, if we wait for help to come then we'll taken back to Hogwarts and not be able to get out to help. They're going to be searching the woods so hiding is also stupid so we need to move before they arrive so we need to leave now."
"Maurice, you can't possibly think that we can do anything," Orous protested.
"Okay so that's one no. Lat, are you in?"
"I didn't say no, I said-"
"I want to know more about the plan first," Latimer pointed out.
"Well I'm not going to risk my plan by telling you it here, I'm deaf so I can't even gauge if there's others approaching further away. If you want to know the plan then come with me somewhere safe, I'll explain and then if you can back out if you want," Maurice explained and Latimer sighed heavily.
"Fine."
"Do you know the Disillusionment Charm?"
"Yes."
"Cast it on yourself," Maurice commanded and swirled his own wand over himself while Latimer did the same, Orous thought they'd turned invisible for a moment before realizing he could still make out their outline. It was more like they were chameleons, "Last chance, Orous."
"I..." Orous started to say, looking back to Vern. He wanted to stay with his friend but he also recognized the time constraints and wanted to help the others, fight the Shadows, save the kids. Then again, Maurice's plan could also be worthless. He knew he'd regret his choice but there were more lives at stake than just Vern's, he thought he'd regret his other choice more and he thought Vern would probably do the same if their positions were reversed, "I'll come back, Vern, Rose and Corin will be here with help soon. Just hold on."
"Cast it on Orous and we can go. Hang in there, Vern."
Orous felt his resentment bubble in the cold way Maurice spoke, did he really not care his friend was really hurt? He thought that Maurice likely didn't care at all really, that he was only fighting the Shadows because he was pissed off about being lied to. His 'friends' and 'family' didn't matter, he just viewed them in the same disposable light as their mother. He probably didn't see what the Shadows were doing was wrong, he'd probably agree with them even as he didn't even seem to think their treatment of him was wrong in the first place. He was about to vocalize his change of heart in following Maurice when Latimer tapped him on the head with his wand, he felt as if an egg had been cracked on his skull and dripped over him. Instead of gooey egg though, he found he also now blended in with the scenery.
"And no talking until we're out of the woods in case we're heard," Maurice told them seriously, "I don't know how loud and easy it is to hear but I'm not taking the risk so shush until I say so.
He supposed he had no choice now, he also found it was now easier to see Latimer and Maurice. Maurice didn't wait another second before leaving, Orous and Latimer had to scramble after him to keep up as they went back the way they came. Maurice paused briefly, randomly casting a spell at nothing and keeping his wand up as if he was levitating something with them. They followed him with blind obedience, despite the increasing amount of questions building up in Orous' brain and desiring to spew out like a volcano. Maurice led them out of the woods, taking an obscure route that stopped following the way they'd came which was probably to avoid any rescuers. He hoped they found Vern okay. Eventually they came out of the trees, skirting the edge of Hogsmeade and all the way to the Shrieking Shack where they went around back. It had been shoddily repaired and had even more wooden bars were sealing it now, in truth Orous didn't like the place because of what had happened to Michael.
"Can you open that? Quietly? This close to Hogsmeade your magic use isn't noted," Maurice asked or demanded, Orous wasn't sure which.
Latimer flicked his wand to remove some panels for them to get in, quietly. He shifted his wand as if moving an object through the gap before climbing through himself, Latimer gestured for Orous to go next. He clambered into the musty old building, met immediately by the site of ravaged furniture and a huge old dusty bed. Latimer climbed in after him and replaced the panels, it seemed suddenly uncomfortably darker. Maurice put a hand to his translator necklace.
"So are you going to fill us in on your plan now, or what?" Latimer asked or maybe demanded, there was a surprisingly fine line between the two right then. In response, Maurice flicked his wand and the Invisibility Cloak shot off from the man he'd stunned earlier, "Where... Where did you get a person?"
"Stunned him earlier, put him under the cloak so his comrades couldn't revive him," Maurice stated casually and Orous knew what he was going to say next, he still wished he could be wrong, "He's our ticket to saving the others. He has to know where he was supposed to take them, we just get him to tell us and then we can use him to save Cassia, Abby and Lily."
"He's not just going to tell us," Latimer protested and gestured to the man, who was maybe in his fifties. He was Caucasian and had black hair snaked with gray, it had a slight wave to it, "He's a seasoned soldier by the looks of it, he was probably a former Death Eater."
"Look at his hands, no blood quill scars. He wasn't trained like I was, meaning he wasn't taught to resist torture, meaning I can get him to talk," Maurice explained as if it was something very basic, Orous felt closer to vomiting with every word. Maurice's oceanic eyes looked like ice right then, so disturbingly much like Alzay, "Death Eaters weren't given training and the Soul Eaters only give them the basics, there's no way he's had enough time. I can get him to talk."
"I'm not torturing a man. Even if he is a Death-Soul Eater... That sounds like a bad rock band."
"You don't have to, you don't have to do anything. I'll do it, I was trained and I was good at it. You just wait here and be ready for when it's done and we move," Maurice pointed out and Orous felt even more like vomiting, he took a step back from his brother in horror. He'd been good at torture?
"We're not going to just let you torture some," Orous managed to get out, aware that his voice sounded like barely more than a whisper and Maurice glanced at him with his impossibly cold eyes.
"I'm not asking for your permission."
"He has a point, torture... torture is bad," Latimer offered, not looking half as horrified as Orous but somewhat concerned.
"A bad thing done the right reasons is still a bad but the reasons are still right, Aurors torture now and they're supposed to the benevolent side in his war," Maurice stated casually as if this was just another debate, the way he phrased that only made Orous more sure he didn't care about the stopping the Shadows for altruistic reasons, "Abby and Cassia are our friends, our comrades, our people. Even Lily is Albus' sister, I don't even like him but he's still one of us and so is Lily. You don't leave your people behind, they will kill Abby and they will kill Lily. They'll force Cassia to join them because of her gift, they'll break her and twist her and destroy everything she is to make her a weapon, she's young enough for it. Is that what you want? Because that is what will happen. Does hurting one bad person really outweigh three innocent lives?"
"The others," Orous began, "They-"
"They will fail," Maurice interrupted, "Varanian and Scorpius aren't going to use torture even if they had somehow, sleuthing around for answers isn't fast. And even if by some miracle they eventually succeed, they have no way of destroying the Scepter pieces and saving Ashain because neither of them knows or would use Fiendfyre like me so they have no way of obliterating the Horcrux. It's the only way."
"I'm not-"
"Orous," Latimer interrupted, swallowing nervously and speaking in a deathly quiet voice, "Let him. It's the only choice we really have right now if we want to do anything, the best of bad options. I hate it too but how else are we going to help them? Abby's our friend, Cassia's seven and Lily's Al's little sister."
"I'll be back out as soon as I'm done," Maurice announced, he even sounded like Alzay then.
Maurice flicked his wand to the prisoner, making him rise to go with him into the next room. Orous said nothing and did nothing, he hated himself for it. It was the lesser of two evils, doing nothing was the only other choice. He flinched when the door closed and hung his head, his fists clenching and unclenching. His shaking legs forced him to sit on the bed, Latimer remained standing but had an unhealthy stare aimed at the scratched up floorboards. They were both waiting for the screams to come, shatter the smothering still silence that echoed into their souls. They never came though, Maurice had either been kind or cruel enough to put up some kind of Silencing Charm or possibly to just ensure no one from Hogsmeade heard. Orous almost wished they would but knew they wouldn't, Maurice always was victorious. Just like Alzay.
"Celestine," Brutus barked as he was deposited in St Mungo's by the Specter.
They weren't alone but in the infant section with only babies as witnesses. The sandy-haired man sat obediently beside his son, glaring at the boy loathing for reasons beyond Brutus before turning his predatory gaze to him. Considering his stillborn daughter's death, Brutus thought Celestine should just be glad the boy survived. Then again, Celestine was possibly the reason his son was in St Mungo's in the first place considering the unfounded hatred.
"Yes?" Celestine asked of him disinterestedly, his usual good looks were marred by his tiredness as was his usual dislike of Brutus.
"We got the three children, you just need to take them and a team to retrieve the other Scepter piece. Use Polyjuice if you wish but do it."
"I can't," Celestine protested as Brutus turned to leave, he opened his mouth to explain that Sal had ordered it so but the Shadow elaborated, "Gabrielle just went to chase down a Healer for a checkup, the brat has a concussion and leaving for no good reason is going to seem suspicious."
"And how did he wind up with a concussion?" Brutus snapped before he could stop himself while Celestine seemed somewhat offended.
"Please, you think I'd risk my cover by outright harming the creature?"
"It's a baby."
"It's a thing. And I didn't do anything to it, I came in and it stupidly crawled off a table. It's Gabrielle's fault, it climbed out of her sleeping arms to get onto the table to fall. I did nothing. All I did was watch it fall," Celestine insisted, holding up his hands as a sign of innocence, "And now I'm stuck playing dutiful father so you'll have to get someone else. Didn't our Master want to do it themselves?"
"The master is busy with some labor right now," Brutus explained, Sal was very determined they not refer to her by name or even gender during any conversation not in a secure location. As weird as it was for him to say, he did understand the value of secrecy. The labor was actual childbirth labor which he hoped Celestine could understand without him having to spell it out to him, from his expression's shift to a flash of... jealousy? Brutus thought he understood, "So the master wants someone trusted to do it."
"Rabastan?"
"He can't, he's on Specter duty."
"You?"
"I have to get back to the master," Brutus growled, he hadn't even wanted to leave for this but Sal was rather insistent and wanted it done quickly while her brother was indisposed.
"Well then I guess we're going to have to wait unless our master thinks someone else is up to the task."
"I'll have to ask her."
"Then do that. Why are you wasting time when you could be doing what our master wanted?"
"I'm going!" Brutus insisted mentally called the Specter he was using to transport him, the uncomfortable feeling of coldness being normal to him now.
He didn't return to Sal though, there was one more thing he wanted to do while he had the chance. He instead remerged in St Mungo's, just a different location. He hastily closed the curtains around the patient's bed, the ward was near empty though as visiting hours weren't until later and the other patients were mostly sleeping or up and about somewhere else for exercise. It was the worth the risk and he wouldn't be there long, he could always transport himself away if necessary.
Satisfied it was alright for the moment, he turned to the patient. He hadn't seen his father for twenty-three years, Aurelius had aged well though and looked much more around his and Atticus' ages then a man in his sixties. His extremely dark auburn hair was untouched by gray and showing no signs of balding, he hadn't changed all that much in the two decades really. Aurelius' eyes were closed but he was breathing, shuddering breaths. The minor injuries sustained had been healed, the damage causing him pain was concealed beneath the blankets as Curse wounds weren't so easily healed. He knew his father would be in pain, Brutus himself and Atticus had both inherited his allergy to one of the main ingredients in pain potions so St Mungo's couldn't do much for that. He just stood silently, watching his father breathe.
He hated seeing his family hurt, his father suffering but nonetheless he was glad to see him now. He hadn't wanted to have to cut his father out of his life but it had been necessary when faking his death, his father's absolute isolation ensured he didn't even have a chance to try talk to him in private. He'd missed his dad and would unfortunately have to continue missing him until the war was cleared when everything would be okay, Brutus wished that day was now. They'd been close once, the three of them, he never would have thought they'd end up utterly estranged from each other as they were now. Regardless of their views - Atticus and his father probably despised him right now - he still loved them, he didn't want them to get hurt... or worse. Corvinus Ashain would die for this.
Brutus took a step closer, knowing he had to go soon to be there for Sal and his unborn as well as to avoid the risk of being caught. He reached out his deformed hand to take his father's, giving the gentlest of squeezes which was something his father had done when they were sick as children so they wouldn't feel alone. It had been comforting, especially in semi-conscious unwell state with nothing to help ease the feeling of malaise. To his surprise though, his father stirred and spoke before Brutus could make his exit.
"Brutus? Is that really you?" his father wondered before he'd opened his eyes, his voice sounding weak and tired but his eyes were actually hopeful.
"Yes, it's really me," Brutus confirmed in a whisper to match his father's quiet tone, his father gripped his hand tightly as if to assure himself Brutus was solid while a smile spread across his face. His father didn't hate him after all?
"I thought I'd never see you again, I thought you were dead," his father told him tearfully, "I'm so happy you're alive."
"Course I am," Brutus insisted and tried not to smile but failed, "I missed you. I'm sorry I couldn't see you until now, I couldn't get to you and I wasn't sure what you'd think of me after everything."
"You're my son, Brutus, I'd love you no matter what," his father assured him before coughing, "I-"
"Save your strength, okay?" Brutus interrupted him with concern, "You need to rest, save your strength to recover."
"I would but I'm afraid of this being the last time I see you with the war and every... everything."
"Don't worry about the war," Brutus scolded him, not wanting their reunion marred by all that, "Not here, not now, not in this moment. This is a good moment, a happy moment, a hopeful moment. Okay?"
"Okay."
"I have to go now but we'll see each other soon," Brutus whispered, knowing time was against them, "I love you, Dad. And don't ever think, ever that I'd turn against my family. No matter what, you and Atty are still family. You look out for your family."
"You look out for your family," his father repeated weakly, wrestling with his eyes to keep them open, "Did you know I got married?"
"I heard about that," Brutus admitted, leaving out about how Dom was a Weasley so Sal wanted her to die at some point. Maybe she could be spared but Brutus wouldn't get his hopes up, especially if she was actively fighting them, "Do you know I'm going to be a father?"
"No, I didn't," his father realized and smiled again, "That's nice, congratulations."
"Thanks," Brutus nodded and smiled back, forcefully reminded he still needed to go there. Why must he constantly be torn? He heard footsteps nearing and new his time was up anyway, he squeezed his father's hand a final time in farewell, "I'll see you soon."
"Brutus..." his father called his name but he'd already mentally called the Specter to transport him, vanishing into the Shadows, "Don't go… Please, don't go…"
Part 2: Deciding What To See
"So what's the plan? Where are we? What's happening? I don't see my sister," Albus babbled immediately upon arrival in the field through Portkey.
"The plan is: Michael, take them to the hideout while Scorpius and I scout the place the second Scepter part is hidden," Varanian decided, "And if Wyatt's back, tell him to come. And don't let anyone into my room."
"What about saving my sister?"
"I don't know where they've taken them but I do know where they'll need them to be alive, they might already have taken them there or they might have taken them somewhere else and plan going in at a better time as the middle of the day is not strategically the best. Depending on what they've done or doing decides our own plan and if you don't like it then feel free to think of a better plan in the five minutes you've had to digest all this information," Varanian explained sharply and somewhat testily, grabbing Scorpius' arm without further comment and disapparating them both.
"I wish you'd have given me some warning," Scorpius complained as the apparated somewhere else, cliffs by the looks of it and Varanian - still disguised as a teenager - threw him an incredulous look.
"You constantly give me five seconds to react to major things happening and you're moaning that I transported you after I said I would?"
"When have I ever done that?" Scorpius wondered as Varanian tapped him on the head, making him feel uncomfortably like he'd stepped under a waterfall for a moment.
"June 2018: Suddenly being dispossessed and fighting off Specters. June 2019: Scouting out Pandoran Hills and wound up infiltrating it to save Ashain's son. December 2019: Coming back hu- coming back and immediately storming the Ministry to stop them getting the Scepter. June 2020: Thrown into the middle of a werewolf arm-"
"Okay, okay, I get it," Scorpius interrupted in understanding, Varanian looked almost triumphant as he swirled his wand over himself to give him a chameleon effect, "Disillusionment Charm?"
"Well spotted. While it's not uncommon for people to go to the coast like this, its isolated enough for Shadows to not have any reason to not kill any innocent people in the wrong place at the wrong time," Varanian pointed out as he started walking, Scorpius hurrying after him, "We have a good view of the cave from up here without getting up close, there's not much to s- Get down!"
"Wh-" Scorpius tried to ask why but he was pulled down immediately by Varanian, throwing them both into lying flat on their stomachs. He was sticking with why until he realized the answer was right in front of him, they were lying in surprisingly stabbing grass at the top of the cliff but in front of them and down was a perfect view of what he could only assume was the cave. There was no cave but there was a somewhat large shelf of dark rock out of the main cliff face, upon which was several figures dressed like Aurors as well as on the large chunks of rock that seemed to have broken off at some point from the cliff. He dropped his voice to a whisper, "Are those Aurors?"
"Maybe," Varanian offered at equal volume, withdrawing a pair of omnioculars from his robes and watching them through it for a few minutes, "Yes, they are."
"How can you tell?"
"Recognize them, I'm bad with names but good with faces. Plus, they're using standard Auror protocol for guarding an entrance. And most importantly, a stag Patronus just appeared which is Harry Potter's Patronus. Some of the Soul Eaters can do Patronuses, I've heard it mentioned but it's used infrequently and I doubt the few capable can do a stag. Or make it talk. Brutus might still be able to do a hawk but he can't make it talk," Varanian explained as he lowered the omnioculars once more, Scorpius spotted the silvery stag-like shape Varanian spoke of, "If I can't even do it then he shouldn't be able to."
"You can't do it?"
"Don't you think I would utilize it if I could?" Varanian complained, throwing him an irritated look.
"So why are Aurors here? Are they always here?"
"No, they're not but I'm not really surprised. Your friends went to get help, right? From staff who went to Hogsmeade also, presumably?"
"Yes," Scorpius nodded, not thinking they'd run to random strangers for no reason.
"Longbottom was probably amongst them, Longbottom who is fully aware of the Scepter he helped hide. He probably told Potter via Patronus, if he hadn't already deduced why their children were being taken then Potter must have and sent Aurors here pre-emptively to stop the Shadows. Just like we did, he doesn't know where the kids are but he knows where they'll have to be at some point so it's his best shot," Varanian told him and sighed as he put away the omnioculars, "This is just going to complicate things."
"Do you think the Shadows will still attack with Aurors there?" Scorpius wondered as Varanian slowly stood, helping him up and moving back away from the cliff face quickly before apparating them back to where they'd left the others. The others, who had presumably obeyed and moved away as they were nowhere in sight.
"They'll have to, they can't wait forever as Potter isn't going to stupidly remove the Aurors. He might try to hide them in an attempt to trick the Shadows into thinking they left but they wouldn't fall for it, either way the Shadows will have to move at some point. We probably have time though, they didn't intend for the added Auror protection and will have to redevise their strategy for attack."
"So what do we do?"
"I'm going to try to find them in the meantime, get them back before they go after the Scepter. It's all we can do as we can hardly hang out with those Aurors, we can worry about Ashain once I've had a shot at tracking them down as we can go after it anytime now. We just need to figure out how to get past the Aurors and how to get to the wand part in the Ashain mansion," Varanian told him and tapped Scorpius' head, presumably removing the charm, "Go back and explain it to the others if you want, I have to meet Dom and then I'm going to try locate the kids. If Wyatt gets back, tell him to stake out the cave so we'll know if the Shadows do attack. Disillusionment Charms wear off, animagi transformation doesn't."
"Okay," Scorpius said, "What should we do while we wait? Everyone's going to be impatient."
"Well then don't bring them into the loop next time. Have Roman feed you, you'll need your strength and make sure to rest if I'm not back when it gets late. There's nothing you can really do to help me spy, more just slow you down."
Scorpius nodded in agreement and Varanian disapparated once more, leaving him to trudge back to the hideout alone. He supposed it was probably a good thing that Varanian hadn't let Maurice and Orous come considering Roman was there, he couldn't imagine that reunion going well. He was somewhat concerned about leaving them though, he felt bad and would rather they came but he respected and understood Varanian's decision. He did have a point about the underage magic, although he supposed it mattered less now with the Aurors being in that one place. Still, if he thought any of his friends would have any kind of chance of catching up to them then it would be Maurice. He wasn't sure that was a good thing.
Maurice was unhappy when the last day of classes ended, knowing he'd have two weeks of just nothing but independent study. He didn't mind the practice and the reading alone but he craved the structure classes brought, it seemed much more efficient in training soldiers and was that not the point of all schools? The next day was when everyone left, extensive hugging and drawn out farewells as everyone said goodbye to their friends for just two weeks. He'd gone without saying his father for years and it hadn't bothered him, family had the stronger bond then friendship so why were they so concerned? He didn't understand either of them really, loyalty to your comrades and your cause was the most important thing. It was sort of amusing seeing Corin trying to say goodbye to their peers, being completely blown off by people who didn't like or care about him. Maurice had no one to say goodbye to so he went back to his room, he'd already checked out some books from the Library focusing on wars and more soldier-orientated things. Thankfully, Beauxbatons did actually have books in other languages so he got a break from French.
His reading was disrupted by Corin returning to the room though, he looked when he felt the cool air let in from the door opening. The part-giant looked on the verge of tears and Maurice put a hand on his necklace to speak to him in confusion for a moment, wondering why he hadn't left before it occurred to him that he was probably staying in Beauxbatons with his mother because the Headmistress was one of the ones who stayed there. Corin seemed shocked to him see, it quickly turned to anger and he seemed to be yelling. Maurice wasn't sure though, he wasn't good at judging the volume of speech. He thought it must be quite frightening actually, having all these sounds.
'Why haven't you gone home?' Corin demanded of him.
"Because I'm not going home, clearly," Maurice pointed out, he thought it was quite obvious.
'Don't you have parents? Or are you so much of a weirdo that you just grew out of a filthy gutter somewhere like a Dementor?'
"Father wanted me to stay, he doesn't think I deserve to go home because I'm doing so terribly."
'As if, you're top of the class, you're top of every class. You should just change your name to Monsieur Maurice Perfect because you do everything right and know everything,' Corin said, his face twisted up bitterly.
"Assuming you know everything is foolish and arrogant, no one knows everything. I'm sure it just seems that way to you because as a part-giant so I'm naturally vastly superior to you mentally, part-giants are not noted for their high intelligence," Maurice countered and tears flooded into Corin's eyes, "You're not going to cry again, are you? Crying is weak."
Corin didn't say anything but stormed off into the bathroom again, Maurice thought he was actually probably crying regardless. Corin would be a terrible soldier. He thought nothing more of it and went back to his book, until Corin rudely interrupted him by slapping his arm.
"What was that for?!" Maurice demanded as his hand shot to his translator necklace.
'Why do you do that?'
"Why do I read?" Maurice wondered in utter bewilderment at his comment, Corin looked angry again and his eyes puffy from crying, "What kind of stupid question is that? Even you have to understand the usefulness of reading, surely? You pour over books because you're so behind."
'Not reading. Why do you completely ignore when people are talking to you? You never react when anyone calls your name, I've been trying to get your attention for ten minutes. Don't you know it's rude to ignore people? And why do you clutch that stupid necklace? You complain at me for being upset like a normal person but you cling to that thing for dear life whenever someone speaks to you.'
"It's none of your business," Maurice snapped, not feeling the need to explain to Corin about his deafness. It wasn't his fault the idiot was too moronic to realize it.
'Whatever,' Corin said, throwing up his arms and stalking over to his bed, 'I'm not surprised your Father doesn't love you or want you back.'
"Why would my Father love me or want me back?"
'Maybe because it's normal,' Corin pointed out, looking at him as if he'd spontaneously grown horns, 'You're such a freak.'
"You're a freak. I'm surprised your parents didn't try to devour you at birth," Maurice offered, Corin's black eyes glittered with anger and he lunged at Maurice. Maurice was faster, flicking out his wand and sending him shooting back across the room, "Rushing at a wizard when they can obviously see you, very smart. Idiot."
Corin scampered away and Maurice went back to his book, unfortunately the part-giant returned later though because he had an extra night in the dormitory. The staff - the ones who were leaving anyway - weren't going back until the following day either, being related to the Headmistress got him lumped into that apparently. Maurice would be glad when he was gone, he'd prefer being alone to sharing with someone as annoying as Corin. He did find something odd though the next day, he'd misplaced his translator necklace. Corin seemed in a delightful mood as he left, Maurice had no idea what the part-giant said though. He scoured the room several times but couldn't find it, ultimately he was forced to go tell Moreau that he'd lost it. Moreau - who thankfully could conjure magical words with his wand so Maurice understand and was staying - went to help him look for it, they still didn't find it so he suggested it might've got mixed up with Corin's things. Moreau was still unable to find it though, he assured him he'd get to the bottom of it and in the meantime Maurice just had to make do. He supposed it was a good thing it happened while there were no classes.
There were only about twenty-five to thirty students staying, which was small considering the school housed over two-thousand usually. The Dining Hall was re-formatted to account for this, there was only one table now - or maybe three just angled like this - set up in a kind of rectangle minus one of the sides and they could sit wherever. Glittering ice sculptures of varying designs now decorated the hall, not the melting kind though and there were two random trees either side of the entrance like in the Platine Common Room except larger. And as if suddenly having trees was strange enough, they had candles, trinket - most of which were shiny and spherical - things hanging from them and strange sparkly colored stuff. All trees had a star on top, glowing magically and several doorways had mistletoe hanging from them. The teachers staying tended to eat in their own quarters and he didn't see much of them, Corin and the headmistress certainly did. There was always someone with them at meals though, usually just one person and they sat in the center table. Most often it was Moreau, Maurice tended to sit with him out of familiarity even though communication was awkward as the professor couldn't really stop eating to constantly write the words for him.
All he could really do was attempt lip-reading, seeing mouths move all his life and knowing the shapes for certain words - having had to learn them himself to speak correctly - did help. It was still hard though and French was near impossible, Moreau could speak English though and tended to try talk to him anyway so he wouldn't feel left out. Moreau was a pleasant sort of guy, he talked to the other students especially if they seemed alone as did some of the others generally. In contrast, Enzo didn't make any attempt to talk to them at all and if anyone said anything to him he seemed annoyed. Maurice didn't sit with professors who didn't speak English, French was too difficult for him to lip-read. He spent all his time - except meals - alone practicing or studying, he very much an outsider. Not because of those things but just from seeing other people together, the handful of students saying were often talking or laughing together. This didn't matter so much with his necklace, if he really wanted to then he would've been able to see what they were saying or otherwise communicate if he had to or before that Pyrrhus would've been there.
Without his necklace or Pyrrhus ready to translate, he felt very cut off from the world and people in general. He felt very cut off from his true home too, the school he'd lived in almost all his life. The ache from the blood quill wounds had faded - although he still had the odd burning pain on his back sometimes - but the ache in his heart didn't. He missed his home, he missed being in a world he understood, he missed being around people sharing the same goal as him even if they didn't interact much or like each other, he missed people speaking English, he missed having the correct foods laid out easily and he missed Pyrrhus. He didn't think about it so much with school to distract him but without that, his craving for his school home became clearer. He was alone there really, completely alone and... Well, he didn't like being alone.
Christmas Day came, despite two weeks off it apparently wasn't for the whole two weeks. He found the others left in Platine opening wrapped items under the tree in the Common Room oddly, Moreau explained at dinner they were gifts for the people in Platine. He seemed surprised Maurice didn't realize this and sympathetic that Maurice had gotten nothing, he didn't know why and it didn't matter to him. All the remaining staff along with Corin were there for dinner, Madame Maxime at the center now and Corin kept casting him strange looks. While eating, they had wood nymphs dancing around and he thought they might be singing or just speaking with odd lip movements. Everyone seemed in a good mood. Worst of all though was that they had no stew that he could find to eat, there was nothing even similar for him to salvage like he did at other meals. Forcing him to deviate from what he was supposed to eat, he had as little as possible before returning to his room. And that wasn't even the last day of the break, at least the food went back to normal and the wood nymphs went away. The trees, mistletoe and ice sculptures were taken away before the students were due back for also no reason. What was the point in decorating if they were going to take it away after such a short period of time? He supposed he wasn't going to complain, it was more strategic to simplify without decoration.
The other staff returned and Corin moved back to their room the day before the other students were due back, he'd expected as much. He was glad classes would be back and Moreau had said the dueling tournament started at the end of January, he was also looking forward to that even if Primaire Years wouldn't have their shot until after the second break of the year. Were French people just slackers? At least he'd be able to watch some duels at least, observing duels was useful to prepare him for what it would be like. He still hadn't gotten his translator necklace back though, despite looking multiple times and Moreau hadn't been able to track it down either. He was immensely surprised when Corin tapped his shoulder while he was reading, he looked up to see the part-giant dangling his translator necklace out for him.
"Thank you," Maurice offered in grateful relief as he took it, it must've gotten mixed up with his things after all.
'I um. I didn't know you were deaf or how you need that to interact,' Corin pointed out, eying his shoes. Maurice thought of retorting about how he just hadn't noticed because he was stupid but decided against it, at least he had realized and had been kind enough to return it despite them not getting along.
"It's alright, I'm just glad you found it," Maurice said instead, attempting a rare smile that he hoped came across correctly while Corin merely squirmed uncomfortably.
'I didn't find it, Maurice,' Corin admitted with a heavy sigh, he raised his head with what seemed like a great deal of effort, 'I took it.'
"Why would you take it? You're not deaf?"
'I took it because I was mad at you for insulting me and knocking me on my rear, since you cling to it so much I figured you'd be upset. I didn't think it had a real purpose,' Corin explained and Maurice lost his smile, what an awful petty thing to do, 'But then Mathis was worried when he couldn't locate it and he said about how you were deaf and that translates for you. I didn't believe him until he was talking to Maman about worrying about hiring a translator or someone to conjure words in class because he doesn't want you to miss out, then I felt bad. Even if you are a jerk.'
"I can't believe..." Maurice began but trailed off as he stood angrily, Corin eyed his wand hand uncertainly as if expecting magical retribution.
He thought about it, seriously. He could hurt Corin and make him pay for taking his necklace but Corin had chosen to give it back, more than that he had chosen to be honest instead of just lying that it had been caught up in his things like Maurice had believed. That had taken some kind of courage and human decency which was admirable, he was still an asshole but not a complete asshole and didn't deserve severe injury. Not for this at least, he'd let it slide. Instead he chose to walk away.
"Skorpios," Ashylos stated and Scorpius almost jumped as he realized the spirit was walking beside him, the tint to his appearance was waning, "Atticus has slipped into the final sleep, he has mere days at most before death."
"We're working on it," Scorpius assured him guiltily, recalling Professor Ashain's life was also on the line here, "I promise."
"I am aware. The sooner you do, the sooner my soul is destroyed," Ashylos pointed out and Scorpius stopped in his tracks, feeling even worse.
"You're not going to die. We're going to get the others back, we're going to get all the Scepter pieces and we're going to save your soul before we destroy it," Scorpius said determinedly, Ashylos smiled sadly and shook his head.
"The enthusiasm of the youth, for all the power we have we are surprisingly powerless. Did I ever tell you how I died?"
"No."
"It was during Grindelwald's early uprising, I was living in Europe at the time with my son, Rojer. The boy was eight, like I mentioned his mother died and I was raising him alone. I should have left with him when the war broke out but I did not, I thought I could juggle parenting with taking down another Dark Wizard. A foolish mistake, I had a safe house set up for him, a nice cabin in a forest while I tried to track down Grindelwald but he was young. He didn't want to be cooped up with just Avara - my vulture companion - for company, he didn't truly grasp the danger and wandered out to play frequently. Once such time I returned to find him gone, again, and I went after him. I found him, playing obliviously."
Ashylos threw out his arms like he had once before, a deafening whooshing sound overcame him once more with the accompanying blinding white light. This time, Scorpius found himself standing in a rich, thick forest. He saw Ashylos, wearing an older style but still looking a teenager not much older than Scorpius himself. He was stalking towards a child - around Antonius' age, who was also dressed in old clothes - who was playing in a stream, seeming to be having fun getting his clothes soaked from splashing. He had - not surprisingly - extremely dark auburn hair and dark chestnut eyes, he had high cheek bones and a button nose. His hair was incredibly wavy though, much more so then any of the Ashain descendants from Ashylos that he'd met. Rojer grinned when he saw his father and ran towards him with his arms open wide, Ashylos caught the embrace but pulled away quickly with a stern expression.
"I missed you, Daddy," Rojer told his father happily, speaking Ancient Greek again but Scorpius could still understand it from
"What have I told you about going outside?" Ashylos chastised him, Rojer lost his smile and looked hurt that his father was more intent on telling him off than being happy to see him, "You know it's not safe, Grindelwald's men-"
Ashylos never got to finish his sentence, there was a blinding flash of green that originated from behind him. Rojer's young face managed to twist in horror in the split second of time he had to register a spell was striking his father, Ashylos could do nothing except be hit in the back by the curse to end his life. There was a flash of black this time and Scorpius was back in the field outside Varanian's hideout.
"Why did you show me that?" Scorpius wondered, swallowing uncomfortably and unhappily. He didn't really like seeing someone he respected dying, someone who defeated a Dark Wizard and was trying to help at the risk of his own life. Nor did he like seeing the little boy being orphaned, very much like Antonius would essentially be if they failed.
"I was a powerful wizard, Skorpios, I lived for hundreds of years and I know so much more than any one person should know in a lifetime. Yet in the end, I was as powerless as a newborn infant. Sometimes, all the power in the world doesn't matter if the situation is impossible to get out of, sometimes you have all the power in the world and there is nothing you can do," Ashylos explained solemnly, "Sometimes you have to know when to let go. Atticus or I will cease to exist, I accept that."
"Sometimes you shouldn't give up, you should fight and never stop fighting even when you think all hope is lost because you should fight," Scorpius countered determinedly.
"Only time will tell," Ashylos shrugged, apparently not wanting to argue with him, "But if it comes down to it, don't hesitate to destroy me to stop them."
"What happened to your son?" Scorpius asked, both because he wanted to change the subject and avoid thinking about such things as well as because he was curious.
"I do not know. After death I was imprisoned wholly in the Scepter, I had and still have no way of knowing what became of him. He probably is dead. I had hopes of finding him or at least finding his fate after the Scepter business was dealt with, when I revived. Odds are I will never know now," Ashylos sighed sadly, "Before you expressed interest in learning how to use the magic from my time, I may not have much time so do you still desire that?"
"Yeah."
"Krataktin is the spell you liked, it is probably above your skill level but you can remember the spell for when you are older. It shoots a concentrated burst of energy that punches through most things, flesh easily so it is good for killing or severely injuring or crippling foes, destroying locks is also something useful or breaking a window, it has many uses. Like I said though, it is powerful. The name literally means 'power-ray' in my tongue, never use it lightly and never practice it on anything you have no problem destroying. There is no wand movement, just point it at the target and focus on forcing the energy out."
"Okay," Scorpius nodded in understanding, making a mental note to write it down as he started walking again, "Anything else useful?"
"Oxaspopla is the spell we used to break through walls, you may or may not be able to do that one. You say the spell to turn it on, much like how the Charm to make your wand glow works and remains on until you end it. No wand movement, we had not quite learned that yet. It was more about the intention then, the will to do magic with just the word and wand to channel. In fact, I do not even think we had realized wand movements helped channel magic without words much easier. Anyway, you say the spell without needing to point it at anything then you slash your wand repeatedly on the target area you want destroyed to build it up. A different amount of strokes depending on the object, the more times the more powerful it will be. When you have decided it is enough, slash your wand a final time with more effort and say the spell again. This time it should force out the target area, creating a hole or a hole-like dent of varying depth depending on if you used enough strokes to merit such. It can be time-consuming but is useful nonetheless, you have more control then simply using an explosive spell," Ashylos told him, "Apago is also something you may benefit form, just point and it simply throws your foe back away from you. It is within your skill level."
"I'll remember those," Scorpius promised as they reached the entrance, he paused to open the door
"I am glad," Ashylos commented and he turned back to the spirit, only to find Ashylos had gone.
Part 3: Fleeting Moments
Maurice was glad classes were back and he was glad to have his necklace back, he no longer felt so completely cut off from the world. Although he supposed he was still, the entire ordeal had only sought to remind him that he wasn't like the others and that he should improve his lip-reading skills. He wasn't glad Corin was back though, the part-giant had stopped speaking to him now completely and Maurice actually missed sparring with him. Maurice was also glad as the dueling tournament started in the last week of January, even if it was just watching matches as the older years weren't until after Easter, a notice and signup sheet appeared in the Common Room. The days of no classes were actually Wednesday and Saturday, Wednesday was when the Quidditch was on and Saturday would be the day for the duels. Something odd happened the last week of January though, on the Wednesday when Maurice was on his way to the Library while the others were heading to the Quidditch. He passed Corin going out in the opposite direction, he then passed two others from their year snickering and raising their wands, lips moving mid-spell to hit him in the back.
"Petrificus Totalus. Petrificus Totalus," Maurice cast immediately, striking both boys before they could hit Corin in the back.
Even if he was a horrible person, Corin didn't deserve to be hit from behind. Maybe it was because Maurice was deaf, he was particularly vulnerable to attacks from behind as he had no way of hearing so he disliked it more but the entire thing had just never sat right with him. He didn't think it should happen unless absolutely necessary and even then, only if there was no good alternative. He chided the boys - who would still be able to hear in their state - for what they'd done and left them there as a lesson to not do so again, carrying on his journey without a second thought. Only to be rudely interrupted by Corin, grabbing his arm to turn him back around. Maurice scowled and put his hand to his necklace, it was most rude to annoy him after Maurice had just saved him from being shot in the back.
'Why did you do that?' Corin asked, looking bewildered, 'Why did you stop them cursing me? Why did you help me?'
"Because I don't like people being cursed in the back, even if it's you," Maurice explained as he tugged his arm free and continued on.
He and Corin still didn't speak but the part-giant kept giving him odd looks now, sometimes opening his mouth as if to speak and then closing it. People were weird. Saturday came and Maurice was one of the first there to get a seat for the duels, the first round was to determine the best in the individual house and unfortunately they held them all on the same day at the same time and you were only allowed to watch your own house matches. He supposed it was better than nothing, Corin was also there early and sat beside him. It was taking place in the indoor Amphitheater for Platine - they had four locations for the different houses and it was random who got what - which was a massive room with rows of chairs on a gradient surrounding the arena so those further back were higher up and could still see. There was a gap in the chairs in the front row to get into the room beneath the seating, where the competing students waiting and Healers were on standby. It was randomized who was dueling who at first but after that the losers were eliminated and the victor moved on to fight the next victor, the names and duels were on a chalkboard up on the wall.
The House Leaders were refereeing so that meant Moreau for Maurice, Superieur Years were going first for the next four weeks starting with the eldest in their final year and working down. The two best would move on to the next round although the absolute victor would still win for the best in the house for their year. Rules for the actual duels were no Dark Magic, no physical non-magic damage - like punching your opponent - and no spells that caused severe, crippling injuries that couldn't be cured which Maurice thought was somewhat unfair and limiting. The duels were not to the death though, Maurice thought they would be more exciting if they were as more would be at stake but he supposed they wanted more soldiers to survive. Moreau also put up a barrier around the arena during the duels so any stray spells or spell effects would not hit the audience, it was transparent so Maurice had no issue with it. In fact, he was enjoying it and he thought starting with the Tenth Years was a good way to get the dueling tournament off with a bang due to the more advanced magic. It was during the second duel that Corin annoyingly tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention, Maurice rolled his eyes as his hand went to his translator necklace.
'Do you know there's a commentary?' Corin asked of him, gesturing vaguely higher up.
"No," Maurice pointed out, thinking it fairly obvious, "I'm deaf, remember? This thing has a range."
'I know, that's why I said it. Do you want me to tell you what they're saying?'
"No, I just want to watch the duels, it's rather interesting," Maurice told him and to his surprise, Corin smiled somewhat nervously.
'I know, I love the duels. It's so awesome, I can't wait to finally be a part of it myself.'
They went back to watching the duels but they didn't stop talking, they discussed the duels and their opinions on who would win. They stopped for lunch but he and Corin were still engrossed in their discussion, they sat together for lunch and Corin told him about some of the best duels he'd seen in the past before they returned to their spots for the rest of the duels. Maurice was quite pleased to have estimated the winner correctly, although Corin's best choice had come third so he wasn't too far off. Maurice actually had fun, not just because of the duels but it was... well it was kind of nice talking to someone else about something that you were both interested in even if it was Corin. In fact, it became a regular thing for them to sit together during the duels and discuss them over the next few weeks. Gradually, they also starting sitting together for meals - where Corin encouraged him to eat more than his constant porridge, broth, stew or the closest he could find and in turn, he encouraged Corin to lay off the unhealthy deserts - and in classes, he helped Corin out with his homework and Corin helped him out with his French.
After the Superieur Years had been done, it was four weeks of the Moyenne Years before the Easter break. After the Easter break, they would finally get to participate in their own duels before they moved on to the next round of duels. The only difference for the Primaire Years was that the top four moved to the next round, not just the top four. Corin - who had inside information due to growing up in Beauxbatons - explained it was both to give more encouragement to the younger inexperienced years as more would be winners to some degree and because there were only two Primaire Years, in comparison to four in Moyenne and Superieur so they wanted there to be sixteen for the next round per year. Corin also confessed to fearing he wouldn't get very far so Maurice took it upon himself to train Corin as best he could, helping him practice and improve. They dedicated the whole week of the Easter break to it as again they had no classes and most people went home, Corin stayed in their dormitory even. Maurice enjoyed teaching him. He thought it was nicer to not have classes when he had Corin with him, it was like when he had Pyrrhus except Corin was nothing like him in personality. The Primaire Years were the last two weeks of May, naturally their year was the last which still annoyed him but did give Corin more time to practice even Corin found it tiring sometimes, Maurice pointed out about how his necklace was tiring for him but you got used to these things. Maurice couldn't wait for the duels.
The duels had become progressively less interesting as the year number lowered - the younger the year the smaller the audience as well - as they knew less magic and didn't know non-verbal magic. Maurice was quite sure he could do non-verbal magic if he tried, he was deaf after all so didn't thinking the word matter more than from pushing air out of his mouth when it was in different shapes? However, he was interested in the Second Year duels as the best four would be competing against them for the best in the year. And then finally, it was the First Years turn. Maurice knew he could do this, being deaf didn't matter as duels were face to face and he'd been trained to recognize more subtle wand movements then the children he'd be against used. It was no different then what people had to face against non-verbal duelists. Corin had his match before Maurice had his first one, Madame Maxime had come to see her son duel but unfortunately he couldn't see it as he had to wait his turn, they had to wait a lot. Corin returned though, grinning ecstatically about his victory and wished Maurice luck when his turn came. It was easier than Maurice had thought, he was much faster than his opponent who seemed to think moving slightly to the left was a good tactic for dodging. It was a short duel and he returned to Corin victorious, for the moment anyway. Corin won his next duel and Maurice found his next opponent as easy, although at least the guy had better to attempts to dodge at least. Corin's next duel seemed to take a long time but he did win and return in the end, Maurice's next opponent was a girl who was actually very good at dodging but didn't utilize it well to throw counter attacks. Her lack of offensive was her downfall.
He and Corin were both down to the final eight now, one more victory and they'd be guaranteed a place in the First Year final. Corin's match was second, Maurice's last but at least they weren't dueling each other or it would guarantee only one would make it through. Unfortunately, Corin did not return from his duel and for the first time his opponent returned instead. Maurice felt bad for him, he'd really tried to be a good teacher. His doubts almost cost him his next match, he managed to get his head in the game after a Disarming Spell almost struck his ear however and launched an offensive stream of his own Disarming - if only because the incantation was shorter than the Body-Bind he preferred - and came out the winner. It was a small justice that the guy who'd beaten Corin had lost his match, Maurice was up against the boy who'd beaten him next which he realized was actually the final. He walked onto the arena to give it his all, his opponent wasn't lacking in talent and in fact was a good balance of offensive, evasive and defensive. But Maurice was better, the boy fell for his feint and dodged the wrong direction which resulted in a Body-Bind to the chest. Moreau took his wand arm and raised it into the air, it was at that moment that Maurice noticed the crowd for the first time. Rows of increasingly higher seats filled more people then he'd thought, people who were cheering. Cheering for him, he realized. And Corin was amongst them, by his mother. Maurice couldn't help but smile. Experiencing a win was different to logically thinking it likely that he'd come out on top.
'It's so awesome,' Corin said to happily to him afterwards when they were in their dormitory, smiling from ear to ear, 'You're the first deaf person to ever win it, you know? And you have the chance to be best in the whole year now. And you know, that is one of the few times I've seen you smile.'
"You're not upset about losing?" Maurice asked of him with concern.
'I was but then you went and won instead. I'll get them next year, next year it's all you. You got to win it for both of us, my friend. Your Dad must be so proud.'
"He probably won't be," Maurice sighed.
His assumption turned out to be accurate, his dad told him to be the best in the house for his year was nothing and he needed to do better. June was the last month of the school year, the Moyenne year finals were the first week of it, Superieur the second and Primaire the third. The winners of their respective years would then compete in the last week of June to be the best in that year bracket, meaning if Maurice won then he'd have to beat the champion of the Second Years. He still had to win against the others who won in the other houses in First Year before though, Corin even seemed to place practice over homework so he'd have someone to practice against. The year finals were all in the indoor amphitheater due to the rainy June they were having, the Second Years all went first but the First Years still have to wait under the chairs with them despite that they wouldn't be up against each other for the Primaire Years finals until next week. Maurice thought this was so they would be less prepared on who they were up against, probably why they didn't let them see the other house finals. Maurice was again one of the last to go, his first opponent was surprisingly easier than he'd thought. He didn't think the boy had been the best in the year, he was too slow. And Maurice won. There was less waiting times between duels at least as there was less people after the Second Years were done, he was up against a girl next who was particularly good at offense. It put his defensive and dodging skills to the test before one of his attacks struck her, her determination to stay stationary cost on her dodging attacks.
It put him in the final four, not that it mattered as only the winner would move on. His next opponent was a weedy little boy, fast and evasive but he fell for another of Maurice's feints very quickly and dodged the wrong way. He was glad it had been a fast match because he went right into the final, against a tall girl from Argent. She was a more balanced opponent so Maurice decided to use her height against her, firing a spell high then one quickly after low so she couldn't jump and duck well at the same time thus disarming her. Moreau - who judged the all non-house tournaments due to being the teacher of the Bataille - was beaming as he raised Maurice's wand arm into the air again, Maurice again hadn't paid any mind to the crowd and saw it was bigger than last time, Corin was also in the front row with his mother again. Maurice smiled again, it felt good to win. Except to his father apparently, just being the best First Year wasn't good enough. The weather cleared up the last week so the finals took place in the outdoor amphitheater, naturally Maurice's duel was last. He was allowed to watch the other duels this time though and every seat was filled, Superieur were first were a Ninth Year actually managed to claim the title for the best in the group while the expected Sixth Year took the Moyenne spot. Then finally it was his duel against a Second Year with a year's worth of extra practical experience to him, the older year almost always won it.
But Maurice wasn't going down without a fight and he may not have an extra year of practical experience but he had an extra six of soldier training. The Second Year was harder than the other duels, he was fast and had a deeper pool of spells he was capable of performing to pull from. Maurice wished they could use darker magic. Maurice was still faster though and knew how to fight more tactically, the boy didn't fall for a feint though and managed to dodge the spells Maurice cast. The duel was dragging on and Maurice realized the other boy was panting much more heavily than he was, using his tiring translator necklace must have built up his stamina more then he'd realized. That was how he could win. He stopped defending and starting attacking, he held his ground and launched a barrage of Disarming Charms as fast as his lips could shape the words. Scarlet light streamed towards the Second Year, Maurice noticed his movements become more sluggish while Maurice didn't halt his attack. He couldn't keep the pace up forever but he should be to outlast- the Second Year was finally struck and the wand went spiraling out of his hand.
Maurice was breathing heavily himself as he lowered wand, wanting very much to sleep before Moreau grabbed his wand arm and raised it high again. Recalling the fact he'd just won back to his mind, he looked at the full crowd applauding and cheering. He wondered if it sounded as good as it looked, a giddy kind of joy swept through him. He'd won. Best in Platine, best First Year, best out of the entirety of the Primaire Years. And all despite being deaf. And despite having been taken out of his home school. He could be talented, he could be strong, he wished Pyrrhus and his teachers could see him now, see that he could do things. Despite everything. The sun shone down on him proudly and a smile slipped onto his face, he didn't think he could remember experiencing a happier moment in his entire life. He would be a good soldier, he would.
Rose felt terrible. Running to get help - who actually knew where exactly they were going – at the time seemed completely logical, now though she wasn't so sure. She'd found Grant, Hagrid, Kresmir and Koray - not together - while Corin had Neville and Vipera with him when Rose led the trio back to the forest. It had been too late though, getting help to precisely the right place was useful if the bad guys had already gone. With her friends. They found Vern and his Slytherin girlfriend Olivia, both in areas that showed signs of a struggle but no one else. No sign of those her friends had tried to help, no sign of her friends and no sign of Ashain's insane brood. The students were ordered back to Hogwarts, Aurors were dispatched - she even caught a glimpse of her dad - and they discovered back at Hogwarts that Scorpius and Molly were also unaccounted for. She supposed one of the others had also gone to get them, Scorpius had a way of always being there when crazy dangerous things were happening with the Shadows.
Eleven students missing and two in the Hospital Wing wasn't good, especially when ten of them were people she considered friends and three of them were family. Ashain's two children were also missing, bumping the number to thirteen in total missing and Ashain himself was in some kind of coma. She and Corin were in the Hospital Wing, clinging to the only friend they had still around. Olivia was alright, Marigold had been unable to heal her broken arm due to it being caused by the Shadows' resistant spells but whatever else wrong had been mended so she was alert and awake. Marigold had closed the curtain around Vern but flitted about working on him and muttering to himself as he did so, in contrast Ashain was just lying on another bed. He looked as pale as death, his breathing seemed slow but he was completely unresponsive to the Healers attempts to wake him so they actually appeared to have given up on him for the moment. She supposed in a way it was nice that he was out of it, if he was awake then he'd just have to deal with his children being missing. Poor Neville was distraught, he'd already lost one child and now his youngest two were missing.
Rose found it hard to believe just a few hours ago she had been stressing to Abby over the decision whether to have her hair as usual or try mimicking bloody Lenore's so-called 'style' so Maurice might like her, it seemed even more trivial now. And now both Abby and Maurice were gone. Along with the others. Corin was just looking at the ground sadly, Olivia was craning her neck looking at Vern's curtained off bed with concern and Rose was just sitting there too. None of them were speaking. She was about to join Corin in staring at the ground when the doors opened, her dad strode in with Uncle Harry and Elwood, the Headmaster looking oddly cheerful for someone who had over a dozen students missing. She ran over to her dad immediately, hoping he'd have time to at least see her for five seconds. Thankfully, he did halt and hug her while the other two continued on to Ashain's bed while Marigold opened the curtains and left Vern's bedside with bloodied robes. Vern was still alive and even conscious, his eyes fighting to stay open and his breathing uneven.
"How is he?" Uncle Harry asked of Marigold immediately, his expression was intensely stoic and his emerald eyes seemed to radiate power from behind his glasses. Rose felt slightly better about everyone being missing, Uncle Harry wouldn't rest until his children were safe and sound, she did have faith in him.
"Holding up pretty well considering but he's still not doing great Shadow wounds are difficult to deal with and he does have some internal damage. He would most likely would be dead now if someone with Healing knowledge hadn't helped him, I suspect Michael," Marigold explained, "So he does have a chance, he's drifting in and out of consciousness right now-"
"I meant Atticus not Vern!" Uncle Harry interrupted unusually testily, "I need him to be awake right now because I need him for something."
"Oh, well... I'm not even sure what's wrong with him," Marigold pointed out, glancing at Ashain as he spoke, "He's unresponsive to stimuli and there's no physical reason for him to be, we've tried both common and more uncommon things but nothing. I think some Dark Magic is at work here although I'm not sure what or how they got to him."
"Well, you're useful, aren't you?" Elwood snapped at him, "How dare you let Harry Potter down?!"
"Maybe the Shadows attacked him to make it easier to take his kids?" her dad guessed, ignoring the Headmaster's comment.
"Why? His kids aren't important, Hogwarts isn't even liable for any harm befalling them because they're neither students nor staff. The main priority is the Potters and the other students taken."
"Weren't you going to go and send the students to their Common Rooms or something?"
"Oh yes, well remembered. You're so smart, Mr Ron Weasley. I'll be back shortly," Elwood offered brightly as he left.
"Heh, never thought it would be annoying to have someone hero-worshipping you like that," her dad pointed out with a heavy sigh before smiling at her weakly, patting her shoulder affectionately, "I am so glad you have you kids have your mother's brains, Rosie, I dread to think what would've happened if you had gone in the forest too. And Corin also, well done."
"Isn't there anything you can do to revive Atticus?" Uncle Harry questioned of Marigold.
"Well done for running away while our friends were taken? Putain," Corin spat out unhappily and Rose felt an unhappy twinge of guilt, she felt very much the same. She didn't like confrontation but felt like a coward for running, maybe subconsciously she had been a coward. And she hated that. She wished she'd gone in after them, maybe it would've made a difference if her and Corin were also there. Then again, some of the others were better duelists then her - and she assumed probably Corin as well - yet were still gone so logically maybe not. They could've at least tried though, logic wasn't everything.
"I'll keep trying things but I don't think it's likely," Marigold shook his head, "Especially not when I have no idea what it is, I'm a Healer not a Dark-Magic-coma-causing-curses-and-how-to-revive-them expert. He'll probably be moved to St Mungo's, he'll likely not live very long."
"I'm going to pretend 'putain' means 'puppy' because it would be my adult responsibility to scold you if it meant anything bad," her dad pointed out with a wink, "Although I have no idea why you chose to mention a puppy there."
She thought he was either deliberately ignoring the other conversation in favor of a happier one for them or he really hadn't noticed. The latter might not surprise her, he hadn't been completely right since his injury. She thought he'd aged more in the last few years then he had his whole life, his hair had more grays every time she saw him and already had more than his elder brothers except maybe Uncle Bill. Uncle Harry seemed to give up on Marigold at that point as he went to leave, just as James stalked in with his friend... the tall muscly guy who wasn't particularly attractive... Carver?
"Dad!" James cried and stalked over to him in worry, Carver's eyes were firmly on the ground. He was probably intimated by such a famous figure, weak-minded moron. James actually looked worried for once, "Is it true? The things they're saying? That Al and Lily were taken?"
"Yes," Uncle Harry admitted as if the words leaving his throat pained him, he pulled James abruptly into a tight hug and James clung to him in turn, "I'm so glad you're okay."
"You'll get them back, right?"
"I'll do everything in my power to save them. And the others."
"Who gives a fuck about the others?" James complained as they pulled apart, "Albus and Lily are the ones who matter, family."
"Molly's missing as well," her dad pointed out, "Abby and August too."
"Molly's a blood traitor," James scoffed darkly before his anger dimmed, "Longbottoms are good though."
"James, please don't start," Uncle Harry sighed and hugged his son again, "I have to go now. Stay safe, don't leave the castle not even to go onto the grounds, stay in the Common Room as much as possible and stay with friends as much as possible."
"Got it," James nodded as Uncle Harry pulled away again and started to leave, "Good luck."
"Same applies to you, Rosie," her dad offered as he turned to follow, "I'll see you soon, sweetheart, love you."
"Love you too, Dad," Rose called after him and sighed heavily as she sat back down while the adults left, James stared worriedly out at nothing.
"Come on, Jay, let's get back to the Common Room," Carver said in a gravelly voice that might've been nice if he wasn't a complete bastard, at least James had a good heart deep down somewhere but Carver's was black. He put his hand on James' shoulder which seemed to snap him out of it.
"I guess it's a good thing you felt like studying for OWLs," James commented as they started to leave at a slow walk while Marigold went over to look at Ashain once more.
"Guess it's a good thing my Dad wants it."
"Good old Xerxes Santana."
"Seneca."
"Whatever," James shrugged disinterestedly, "Let's see if that slimy, snaky, shadowy Slytherin Byron brat is still where we left him, he should pay for my siblings being taken. I bet he was in on the whole damn thing, bastard dares know about a plot to kidnap my little brother and sister, it's as bad as if he was the one doing it."
"You think?" Carver asked worriedly as they left, losing the rest of their conversation.
"You cousin is an evil bastard," Olivia commented dryly while Marigold checked on Vern briefly before leaving, muttering something about needing to get something.
"So is your brother," Rose offered, not sure whether to feel insulted or just agree with her as she felt both. James had cut off her hair after all, she'd probably hate James too if he cut off her hair and she had to look like some kind of bald weirdo.
"Least he doesn't use a First Year as punching bag," Olivia pointed out as she got up, Rose gasped at the breach of protocol.
"You're supposed to be resting! Your arm is still in a sling!"
"I want to see Vern."
Olivia just brushed it off dismissively as if rules in place for her own health were meaningless as she went over to her boyfriend, pulling up a chair with her one non-broken arm to sit by him. Rose realized Corin had also moved closer to him now that Vern wasn't cordoned off and she just hadn't been paying attention, she picked up her chair to be closer to them. Vern still wasn't looking good, his skin was pallid and his emerald eyes struggled to say open. Lines of pain formed on his face and his breathing was clunky, ragged but at least his injuries were hidden by the blankets except a bandage on the side of his neck. Rose wished she was more comfortable with injuries but she wasn't, she'd come to handle scars but not fresh wounds. She still had nightmares about the horrors of the werewolf attack, she still wanted to throw up just recalling Greyback's assault on Michael. Michael. Who was still gone, she might never see him again especially considering his blood status. Why did her friends have to be gone?
"How you feeling?" Olivia asked Vern gently with a look of almost genuine concern, she was a Slytherin after all and everything they did was something selfish to fuel their own ambitions. Olivia was only dating Vern because of his relation to Harry Potter, Lenore - also a Slytherin, she'd discovered - was only interested in Maurice because of his intelligence.
"I... I need you to do something... something for me," Vern croaked out weakly, his voice more feeble then Latimer after his suicide attempt. Latimer was also gone, he'd survived killing himself just to potentially die now. What her friends done to deserve this?
"What?" Corin inquired cautiously.
"Get the sword of... of Godric Gryffindor from Prof... Prof... Longbottom's Office, sent it... sent it to them."
"Who are them?"
"Scor... Scor and the others. They need it... They will need it... something to destroy... destroy the Horcrux."
"They weren't kidnapped?" Rose wondered in surprise, Vern tried to shake his head but stopped as it caused him to cringe in pain.
"Some... Some were and the... the others went... they went after them," Vern explained in a whisper and looked at them pleadingly, "Please... Please do what I ask. Ashain... his life... the Scepter... the others..."
Vern trailed off as a sudden fit of coughing erupted from him. Along with blood, crimson spewing out over the pristine white blankets. Marigold picked a good moment to return with an armful of potions, shooing her and Corin out and Olivia back into her own bed. He slammed the curtains back closed, Rose could still hear the racking coughing though. She exchanged a confused look with Corin though as they walked down the corridors, Vern's bizarre request returning to their minds.
"Makes you wonder what in Merlin's name they've gotten themselves into, doesn't it?" Corin commented, Rose agreed.
It was evening now, the color was bleeding out of the sky to leave behind an inky blackness. Brutus slipped out of Sal's room, the Sleeping Draught had kicked in so she was out of it anyway which was for the best if she expected to be up and about tomorrow. Which she did - naturally -because sometimes she seemed to forget she wasn't invincible. She wanted to be there to go after the Scepter especially with the new complications and his grandfather would finally be killed but he had to worry about Atticus dying or what they were doing with the Scepter. Despite all that, Brutus found himself in an oddly good mood. That was all tomorrow's problem, today he was just going to be happy that he'd seen his father - who hadn't died and didn't hate him - and he'd become a father - the baby also hadn't died or Sal for that matter - so he was just going to relish a slight moment of something good happening. Genuinely good news as most good news tended to be war-oriented which never made him happy, he hated wars.
He headed back into the nursery room, it didn't look much like a nursery. Not yet anyway. The walls were an unseemly mustard on the top half and oak wood on the lower part, it had been used for Rabastan's son and he hadn't requested or thought it should be decorated like a nursery as Vathan had only been there part-time. Vathan was there now in fact, Rabastan snuck him out of the training every few weeks for a few weeks at a time. Vathan was sitting at the table, parchment and colors sprawled out in front of him as he tried his hand at painting. The three-year-old looked up at him as he approached, giving him a smile that Brutus returned as he strode over. Maybe it was because he'd known him since infancy but Vathan had never shown disgust at his deformed appearance. He slipped a hand into his pocket and retrieved the slab of chocolate he'd brought for him as a treat, Vathan's eyes lit up as Brutus put it on the table beside him.
"Thank Brutus!" Vathan told him happily and gratefully, diving in to tear open the wrapping.
Brutus' smile wavered seeing his hands, scarred already with words from the blood quill. He had a soft spot for the boy and disliked seeing him hurt. He disapproved of the whole thing and wished that bitch Alzay hadn't managed to twist Rabastan into thinking not sending Vathan to the training tower was somehow disloyal, Sal wasn't going to blow him up for choosing not to send his son there. At least Rabastan did take him out a fair bit and have his wounds healed - as much as possible - when he was out, in fact he thought Rabastan would be more willing to keep Vathan out permanently if the boy didn't keep wanting to go back. Not because he wanted to be a soldier, not because he wanted to make his parents proud, not even because he believed or grasped what he was being indoctrinated to believe. No, Vathan just wanted to go back so his brother - technically half-brother - wouldn't have to be alone there. Brutus just found it painfully touching, it struck a little too close to home.
"Wanna bit?" Vathan asked through a mouthful of chocolate as he held out a little hand with a neat square of brown in the palm.
"Nah, it's okay. Just enjoy your chocolate," Brutus offered as he ruffled the boy's hair and moved away.
He strode over to the crib by the window, unable to stop the smile seeping back onto his face. Twins. They were rather tiny, their little faces still scrunched up and somewhat wrinkly but he still thought they were perfect. His biggest fear - aside from stillborn or maternal death - was they would inherit his deformity, the last thing he wanted for them was for them to have to endure the looks and comments that he'd always gotten. Sal wasn't concerned about that but then she wouldn't, she'd hardly had a normal upbringing and even her adult life lacked living in a normal environment with contact with average people. He knew he shouldn't be so afraid of it, their daughter hadn't been deformed either but he couldn't help it, the less like him his children were the better their life would be in the long run.
He watched them lying side by side in identical black baby-grows, they weren't identical though. One already had dark chestnut eyes and tufts of extremely dark auburn hair, the other had much darker eyes and no hair but both were little and pale. The bald baby was sleeping, sucking on his pacifier after apparently being worn out from being born while the other was fascinated by clenching and unclenching his fist as if amazed by the discovery of a hand. His stillborn daughter had looked more like that with Ashain eyes and hair, furthering his belief that being like him was bad luck as clearly her death was his fault. He'd named her Eva. He didn't know why, he'd just always liked that name and he'd wanted her to have a name. He visited her grave every birthday, her unmarked grave because she was born to a woman who didn't exist and a dead man. The twins didn't have a name yet, they probably wouldn't get one until after the Scepter business was dealt with. Ironically, he was okay with that as they had time whereas poor Eva had not. Her death had been the first time he'd cried in a long time, she'd be five now if she'd lived. He wondered if the twins would live to be five.
He reached out to the waking one, watching the identical eyes spot the new object of interest. He was both desperate to hold them and terrified of damaging them, it'd probably be healthier for them to wait for someone else to supervise him to make sure he did it right. Oddly, seeing his children diminished his good mood. What right did he have to be happy at the birth of his children when he had taken so many others' children? Directly, indirectly, he'd killed and he'd kill again, everyone was someone's child. He tried so hard to pretend he didn't care but he did, especially after having experienced loss himself. And yet he still did it, who was more the monster? The lunatic who killed without rhyme or reason or realizing what he was doing? Or the man who killed despite knowing it was wrong for justifiable reasons? Maybe he'd been wrong about mudbloods, a mother supposedly knew their child. What if his mother had abandoned him because she'd know the terrible person he'd become and not because she was too heartless to care for her own deformed son? He supposed it didn't matter, he could never go ask her. Now he would only have to fight harder anyway, now he was a father and losing the war was no longer an option. After all, what would happen to the twins if they lost? The children of the Shadow Master and one of her Lieutenants, the grandchildren of Voldemort and one of his Lieutenants, the heirs of Salazar Slytherin and the descendants of Herpo the Foul. They wouldn't be allowed to live normal lives, if they were allowed to live at all then they wouldn't be treated well.
His child reached out and pressed the little perfect five fingered hand against Brutus' large six fingered deformed one, Brutus closed his hand around his baby's protectively. He thought the lunatic who felt nothing was better off in a way, he had no one to care about but he had no one to care about. He wouldn't feel grief, he wouldn't feel torment, he wouldn't guilt, he wouldn't worry. Having two children meant he now had two more people to care about, two more people to potentially lose, two more people to protect. You protect your baby brother, Brutus, you protect him, his father's tear-filled words echoed inside his mind. He wasn't sure his father had really meant to take it to heart so strongly but he had, except he'd amended it to include his whole family to protect: his brother, his father, his lover and now his children. Despite their utterly different sides and views on the war. He opened his hand and went to move it away but the baby gurgled and reached out to wrap his hand around a finger, it didn't even reach the whole way around but he smiled nonetheless. He wasn't going to worry about the future for today, he was just going to be relish the joy in the moment because it wouldn't last. Tomorrow would be a very different day.
Part 4: Waiting
Things were strange over the next... amount of time as he had no concept of it in those days, Orous began to realize he did seem to still exist to some capacity though. He could see even if everything seemed dim, he could hear even if everything seemed distant, he could smell even if everything seemed faint, he could taste the things given to him even if everything seemed dull and he could still touch things. Touch was his anchor to the world, it was the most interactive and reminded him he was still part of the world. He often grasped things in reach to feel connected to life again, fragments of memories came through easier then too. He realized people were coming to him to do things, some were nice and others not. Some pointed sticks - wands, he eventually recalled - that caused him to feel pain, other times he was beaten which had a similar effect. He didn't enjoy being hurt but the physical pain was something else to connect him to the world, something to know he was still alive. He didn't like being alive, he hated the way he felt even without the pain. He'd much rather go back to oblivion then face semi-existing in such a cold world, he was always so cold. He didn't understand why he wasn't dead, he felt as if he should be, it felt wrong to be alive.
Others were nicer to him though although he didn't quite understand it at first, they would pour liquid down his throat. It took him several times to remember how to swallow, several more to remember it was called water and even more before he recalled that it was needed to survive. They also tried to get him to put things in his mouth, food he came to recollect which was also necessary to live, he had to remember how to eat too. He had to remember how to wash, use the toilet, sleep, walk and even speak. He started recognizing the string of sounds long before he could contemplate forming words of his own. The more he rediscovered about the world, the more he was sure he'd rather not exist. The more he regained of his mind, the more he hated his live. He was prisoner, tortured on a daily basis and unlike his fuzzy fragmented memories from before his... death? Whatever had happened to him, his memories after the event were crisp and clear. The nicer people stopped coming less frequently as he regained his senses, Brutus was the only one still coming by the time he'd recovered enough to start recognizing names in spring. Brutus was the kindest person he knew and great for explaining things, he even gave him some answers about what had happened to him in the first place. He remembered the pain of the magic being ripped from his soul but not the boy he'd been connected to, he hated not being able to remember things. He couldn't remember his parents' names either... Had his dad been bald?
Unfortunately, Brutus' visits were too short and infrequent to outweigh the overwhelming amount of bad. Orous disliked the flimsy excuse he had for a life, he lived in fear and misery. His life was hopeless and wrong. Why did he have to be there? Why couldn't they have just let him die? They'd still have severed the connection and it would spare him having to live when he was clearly supposed to be dead, he didn't even feel like he was really there still. When he remembered how to cry, he ended up crying a lot. And it only got worse when summer began in the first week of June, Selwyn took him back to Linden. He wished they had just kept him there to be tortured instead of abused, months of memories of imprisonment with Linden and Joel flooded his mind. Was that all life was? Suffering? Endless suffering. It wasn't even a whole week before he was moved again though, Linden took him to a filthy wreck that was supposed to have been a cottage and finally tore himself away to leave Orous there. He handcuffed him to a door so Orous couldn't go anywhere or do anything, he thought he'd been left to die. He hoped he'd been left to die. He should've died months ago. However, he unfortunately wasn't that lucky. That night, a pair of Aurors came from some tip apparently and brought him to St Mungo's. He didn't feel happy though, he supposed he should be but what really be different? Healing the majority of his wounds was nice of them but the extensive examination was painful, they also could do nothing for his wrist and didn't seem to realize his soul was damaged or his memories messed up.
He fell asleep waiting for his parents though, the thought of seeing them was actually terrifying. What would they think of him now? They'd probably want nothing to do with him, like his biological father. His biological father had left him, right? He was startled awake by a nightmare he didn't remember and then he saw a worn out man by his bedside, with kind eyes and short blond hair. His dad. Memories flooded his mind like when he'd seen Linden, except these memories were good, memories of his dad from his childhood. Tears welled in his eyes, both glad to have happier times solidified and saddened as he'd much rather be in those memories then exist as he was now. Did his dad even still love him? He was barely himself anymore and he wasn't even his dad's biological son, what reason did he even really have to care? He held out his arms nervously but his dad hugged him tightly. For the first time in months, he felt truly connected to the world again. He felt warmth and comfort, he felt safe.. Hope, maybe... maybe he was still alive. Until his dad pulled away, taking the warmth and severing his link to the world. He'd hoped too soon, he was still broken. And his mum had left. Both of his biological parents didn't want him, he supposed he couldn't blame them. Why would they? He was worthless, he wasn't even supposed to be alive. He was sure his dad would leave him too which terrified him.
It was strange to adjust to being back, he wasn't sure what to do with himself or what he was even supposed to do and irrationally kept fearing someone returning to hurt him at any second. He also came to realize despite a massive chunk of memories returning, it was far from all of them. Going through old scrapbooks he'd apparently made, sometimes it summoned more memories and other times it was just lost to him. He hated not being able to remember, it brought him to tears more than once and his dad would have to sit with him and comfort him. His dad seemed to have to do that a lot. His mind seemed determined to keep him miserable, giving him nightmares of the tortures he'd just escaped from. Life still felt hopeless. He'd wake screaming or crying, his dad would run to comfort him or he'd go to him once he'd worked up the courage to not sit there shaking. Now that he was safe and it was useless, his magic started happening. Especially things catching fire or blowing up, he was scared of hurting accidentally hurting his dad or the dogs. He felt like a baby, useless, in need of safeguarding things from him - due to his magic - and he even cried all the time. He wondered why his dad even put up with him, not only was he not supposed to be alive but he was making his dad waste his dealing with him. In a way it was actually worse, at least before only his own life was screwed.
He thought his dad was probably the greatest person he knew to be there so much for him, he thought he was probably childish to just want to spend time with his dad and be cuddled, and in fact he was quite sure he was being clingy but he couldn't help it. It didn't help that touch was the thing that anchored him most in the world, petting the dogs or hugging his dad or even holding his hand helped. He also came to understand he was underweight from being starved, he hadn't realized that as feeling hunger or thirst was also less intense so it took more for him to feel it which he thought had its positives and negatives. His dad also tried to get him back interested in things he use to like, it worked to some extent as it could be a good distraction from his pitiful life and he liked spending time with his dad. His dad even gave him a quiet birthday like he wanted, Orous even managed a smile in gratitude. It wasn't long after that that his Hogwarts letter came, the place with the possessed headmaster and the boy he'd been connected to. Not that he really remembered much else about it, his dad took him to Diagon Alley - which he didn't remember - to get the things on the list regardless of whether he'd end up going. He may not mind his dad but a random stranger measuring him up for robes was painful, it reminded him of St Mungo's except much less invasive. He didn't mind not getting a pet, he'd rather have the dogs anyway but the whole wand incident was embarrassing.
"Are you okay?" Latimer asked him after a while, drawing Orous from his morbid were both sitting on opposite sides of the room on the filthy floor, Latimer had made a makeshift bandage from some of one of the pillowcases on the bed. The dusk provided little light, "I know this can't be easy for you, considering what you've been through."
"Whatever we have to do I suppose, I hate it but..." Orous shrugged deeply unhappy, he sighed heavily, "Then I think the Soul Eaters could be doing much worse to our friends... But who are we really kidding? They're probably dead by now and the Soul Eaters have the Scepter, it's been hours."
"I never thought I'd have to wonder how long it takes to torture information out of someone," Latimer pointed out and shook his head, sighing as well, "I hate this too if it makes you feel any better. But I don't think the others are dead, they could be waiting until dark to attack."
"It's getting dark now."
"I was thinking one of us should back to Hogwarts," Latimer decided randomly, shocking Orous wholly out of his thoughts, "We have the cloak and the passageway is here, one of us could get some food and water from the kitchens, see if he can pick up any news and maybe get something for my shoulder."
"Sounds like a plan."
"Do you want to go or me or both? I'm not bothered."
"You go, I think if I left then I wouldn't be able to bring myself to come back," Orous admitted and Latimer nodded, seeming regretful as he stood, "Good luck."
Latimer threw the cloak over himself and left, leaving Orous alone with the deafening silence of Maurice torturing a man on the other side of the door. He wished he'd stayed with Vern. He wasn't sure if he hated himself or his twin more, Maurice was just a psychotic product of his upbringing but Orous had a conscience... Wherever that had gotten to. He knew what it was like to be a prisoner, to be tortured and yet he was still allowing it to happen to someone else. He couldn't help think of his mother, she'd tortured before, tortured his poor father into insanity. His hand slipped into his pocket, gripping the healing ankh he'd taken to carrying since Roman had left it with him. He thought both of his fathers would probably be ashamed of him if they could see him now, he kept trying to think of an alternate way to save the others but he came up with nothing. Maurice was naturally the smarter of the two, he thought their mother would probably be proud of him right now. She was all for torture and had psychotic tendencies, he wondered if she'd known what the Shadows would do to him. After what she'd done to her husband... he thought she probably did and simply didn't care. Just like Maurice.
He shoved that thought aside and felt guilty for being so self-centered as he noticed Latimer was still gone, should he have really let the suicidal person go off alone with the cloak? It'd be on him if anything happened to Latimer. Why hadn't he thought of that before he let him go off? Latimer had mentioned hating it too. Hadn't he caused enough suffering today? What was wrong with him?! He was considering going after him until Latimer returned, he let out a relieved breath while Latimer laid out the food he'd taken for them on the cloak along with some flasks of presumably water. Orous wasn't hungry but he thought it was healthy to eat, especially considering he might need his strength so he crawled over to the food to sit with Latimer.
"Vern's hanging in there," Latimer answered before he could vocalize the question for any news, "He's not out of the woods but he's alive."
"Good."
"Ashain's still comatose but breathing too. And there's no news about the others, which is good news because it probably means the Shadows haven't done anything yet."
"I wonder what they're waiting for," Orous mused with a scowl, not that he was glad but it was strange. What purpose did waiting serve really? Especially if they wanted to use the window that Calderon was incapacitated for.
"The Aurors know, the teachers got the word out pretty quickly to the Aurors once Rose and Corin alerted them. They'd be pretty stupid to not figure out why the people with the blood needed to get to the Scepter were taken, the Shadows are probably waiting because the Aurors have new measures in place or something," Latimer explained with a shrug, "There's guys guarding the girls bathroom, you know the one that leads to a certain entrance? Clearly they don't know there's nothing left to guard. And they can't move them as there's no one with Ashain blood conscious and around."
"Okay, interesting," Orous said thoughtfully, trying to think tactically, "I'm guessing they're probably trying to get past the new measures or waiting for a better time to attack now there's probably guards."
"Something like that, I guess. I'm not exactly a military genius on this stuff," Latimer nodded and gestured to the food, "You sit at the Hufflepuff table so I don't really know your taste in food, I tried to get a variety because I'm not sure what you'd like."
"Its fine, thanks. We probably should save some for Maurice and... The prisoner."
"Was thinking the exact same thing."
They did actually make small talk while they ate, Orous probably thought seemed strange and neither were good at it really but he thought they both needed a break from the silence of their situation bearing down on them. He hated the waiting, he wished Maurice would hurry up. He never thought he'd ever wish someone would break someone faster, what had happened to him? After they were done, Latimer packed up what was left for Maurice and the prisoner if they ever came out. Maurice had locked the door magically so they actually had no real way of talking to him, or even knowing if Maurice hadn't already broken the guy and left without them. After that they went back to the painful silence at night fell, Latimer made some blue flames that didn't seem to burn the ground for light. Orous watched the azure light flickering, he thought it was prettier than regular fire.
"We should probably try get some sleep," Latimer spoke up nervously after a while, "In case we need our strength."
"What if Maurice comes out?" Orous wondered.
"Then we rotate, someone keeps watch for two hours while the other sleeps then we switch."
"I like how you say 'tries'," Orous pointed out, "I don't think I'll be able to sleep much."
"Me either, especially not without my potion," Latimer told him before elaborating, "I take a potion to help me sleep at night, it'll be my first night since Easter without it."
"Right," Orous nodded, realizing he meant since his suicide attempt and felt concerned again, "Will you be okay without it?"
"I can get through a night, I just don't expect to get much sleep either," Latimer explained with a dismissive shrug.
"Are nights hard for you?" Orous asked, realizing as he spoke it may sound intrusive and Latimer looked as if he wasn't going to answer for a minute.
"Yeah. You can distract yourself during the day but at night you just have to lie there with all these thoughts trying to tear your mind out."
"Do you still want to die?" Orous pressed and Latimer's head jerked up in surprise, he hadn't expected him to be so direct he supposed but he thought honesty was good. Not mentioning it didn't mean Latimer wasn't still thinking things.
"Sometimes," Latimer admitted hesitantly after a long moment, "But I'm trying to get through it. And it's not so much I want to die, I just don't want to be alive. Sometimes I feel like I just can't take it anymore and there's no point trying because it'll never get better, the only way to make it all stop is death. Sometimes. Everyone's been so great recently, things haven't been so bad so it's been easier. I have friends who care about me and I'm trying to get through it for that, I really didn't think anyone would care if I died. I feel ashamed about it now. I guess I'm just weak, I deserve to suffer but I'm too weak to take it."
"You're not weak. And why do you deserve to suffer?"
"It doesn't matter. We shouldn't waste time talking about my life anyway."
"We're not exactly doing anything," Orous pointed out truthfully.
"Because my Mother's death was my fault," Latimer told him seriously, "She died because of me, my distracting her is what caused the cauldron explosion and then I just lay there doing nothing while she succumbed to her injures. I cost my own Mother her life, I deserve to suffer. I don't tend to defend myself because I deserve to be bullied, I deserve to be hideous, I deserve to be scarred, I deserve to have no girl want to go out with me ever, I deserve to be hated by Dad, I deserve to have lost my foot. But I still don't want to suffer because I'm a horrible person, I still want better, I still get upset, I still get humiliated, I still struggle with it even though I deserve it. I don't know how I made Gryffindor when I'm that much of a coward."
"How old were you?"
"Five."
"Were you injured in the cauldron explosion too?"
"Yeah."
"Then how can you possibly blame yourself?" Orous wondered incredulously, "You were just a little kid! Would you expect any of the little kids injured in the werewolf attack last year to get help?"
"Of course not," Latimer said as if it were obvious because it was, "But this is different."
"No its not. If she was alive, I'm sure she wouldn't blame you either or want you to blame yourself. You don't deserve to suffer, especially not for something horrible that happened to you when you were five, she wouldn't have wanted you to die and not by your own hand," Orous insisted, feeling extremely sure he was right for once and his confidence seemed to surprise Latimer. The older boy looked at him for a long moment thoughtfully before shrugging.
"I guess it doesn't matter, it's not like I'll ever see her again. Nothing can bring back the dead, she's not a ghost and I don't believe in the afterlife outside of ghosts," Latimer explained and sighed before half muttering lines from a song Orous recognized, "You're born then you die, it's all gone in a minute."
"I ain't looking back, cause I don't want to miss it," Orous sang-muttered the next lines, "You better live now cause no one's going to get out alive, alive..."
"Can I be happy now?" Latimer sang the next line as Orous trailed off thoughtfully, not remembering the rest of the words, "I don't remember the rest."
"Neither do I," Orous admitted and they shared a look before laughing, he didn't know why. He supposed they just both needed to laugh at nothing in that moment before sobering, "Do you want to take the first shift then to sleep?"
"Alright."
Orous felt rather a fool waving the wands around that did nothing, he was really starting to wonder whether having the magic ripped out of his soul and put back had affected his ability to do magic properly with a wand. Until he got mad at the wand maker for insulting his dad, which caused something to explode. He felt guiltier and more humiliated the more wands he got through, destroying the shop that the wand maker was having his dad pay for. He was quite sure it wasn't normal, even for wizards. Until he held his wand, the second his fingers brushed the smooth wood he knew it was his wand. It didn't even feel like a wand, just an extension of his arm that he'd been missing and he felt alive. Holding it made him very much feel like his feet were planted in reality, like he was part of the world and he felt warm again not cold. Waving it only sought to confirm this, all the damage he'd caused was repaired. He was disappointed when he let go of his wand just like when his dad stopped hugging him, he reverted back to his same unfortunate feelings of not being fully alive or part of the world anymore. It was after they got home that his dad brought up going to Hogwarts, even though he wanted to use his wand he didn't want to go far away with random strangers and he didn't want to leave his dad. But he agreed to go anyway, it felt like the right thing to do because he was afraid that he would end up accidentally hurting his dad or the dogs if he didn't learn to control his magic, even if it was happening less frequently. And so he wound up on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, for some reason he thought his mum might've shown up. She didn't. Instead he was forced to leave his loving father.
The prolonged farewell had cost him though, the compartments on the train looked full and he couldn't muster the courage to ask to intrude on anyone to sit with them. How would he even decide who to ask? He didn't know anyone and he looked like a freak due to his... albinism? He thought that was what it was called, he hated his scrambled memories. Just when he thought it was okay, it wasn't. A lady pushing a trolley of magical treats found him though and brought him to sit in the staff compartment, although even that seemed to have been invaded by students. There was a teenage girl with fiery curls, a boy as tall as a man but the other three were of much more interest. The other First Year boy was the same height as he was with oceanic eyes, an incredibly neutral expression and light brown hair with a slight wave to it while the last student in the compartment was maybe a year older. He was a slender boy and had a pale, pointed face with cold gray eyes and sharp features. His hair was probably the most white-blond Orous had ever seen, neat with parted bangs and he had an odd scar on his left palm of an arrow. Both of the boys gave him a strange sense of deja vu which made him worry he may know them and simply didn't remember, they didn't say anything or appear to know him though so he assumed it was just nothing or he'd seen them in passing. The professor however had striking dark chestnut eyes and extremely dark auburn hair like someone he knew even if the professor wasn't deformed, if he had to guess Brutus' last name then he'd think it was Ashain.
He didn't know what to say, he barely knew what to say to his own father let alone all those people so he just stayed quiet although he felt oddly safer with a possible relative of Brutus. Things got worse after though, they left when they'd stopped so he could change into his robes and heard the tall boy - Corin - mocking him for his albinism. Orous stalked off upset, having thought his appearance might not be that big of a deal as no one had said anything. The boy with white-blond hair - Scorpius - caught up to him though, assuring him Corin hadn't meant it and offered to lead him where he was supposed to go. His smile looked somewhat demented but Orous thought he was trying to be kind, he appreciated it. Until another boy insulted him, a bit older with scruffy black hair, freckles and brown eyes. And then the bully made a comment about if Scorpius liked being touched by old men, Orous knew it wasn't aimed at him but Linden came to mind. It both upset him to think about and angered him that someone could use something like that as an insult, Scorpius tried to punch him but Corin held him back. Orous didn't mean to but he felt the magic spark out of him, giving his scarred wrist a painful twinge and igniting the bully's robes. Ashain put it out before the boy was burned though, Orous wanted to turn himself in but he was scared of being expelled. He'd never learn how to control his magic then, what if next time he accidentally set fire to his dad's clothes? Or not even his clothes? He stayed quiet, he thought everyone had forgotten he was there anyway and no one else was being blamed or he would have to have confessed. After all, he wouldn't have let an innocent take the fall for him.
His day didn't get any better from there, they had to go in boats in groups. Orous again hadn't the courage to speak up nor any desire to intrude, he just stood there awkwardly wishing he was as invisible as he felt before the intimidatingly tall Hagrid let him go in the boat with him and the two First Years from the train. Corin complained loudly the entire time about not being able to go in the carriages and how unfair Hagrid - who was apparently Corin's father - was being, how much better Beauxbatons was. Orous wondered why he didn't just go back there if it was so great, Maurice stayed quiet and Orous tried to focus on the journey. He would admit the castle was rather nice, he hadn't seen a castle before or if he did then he didn't remember. It was after they reached the castle that he started noticing people muttering about what was wrong with the red eyed, white-haired freaky looking kid. He could feel eyes on him and he hated it, he only felt worse in the Great Hall where there was even more people. They were distracted by the Sorting Hat and ceremony but he was still uncomfortable, he dreaded the moment he'd have to walk up to that stool in front of everyone. He wished he was anywhere but there when his name was called, he had to force his shaking legs to go to the stool. He could hear the murmurings from the crowd about his appearance, he averted his eyes from the students uncomfortably as the hat was lowered onto his head. And then... Nothing happened. He waited. And waited. He wondered if the hat had fallen asleep?
'Hmm... Well this has never happened before,' a voice appeared in his mind, what he guessed was the hat? Or he was connected to someone else again?
'What's never happened before?' Orous thought fearfully, wondering how he'd managed to do something wrong when everyone else just sat there for a second. For several more uncomfortable minutes, the hat didn't reply.
'I can't see inside your mind... I know there are things there but... in fragments, it's difficult to decipher your mind. What did you do yourself?'
"I don't know," Orous whimpered aloud, feeling his eyes welling with tears while the bully from before called for him to hurry up. On second thoughts, it was probably to do with the magic being ripped from his soul. That was all he could think of anyway, it had been what messed up his memories, "Please just pick something."
'It's my obligation to choose the house best suited, not one at random,' the hat insisted, 'I'm trying my best to get through your mind.'
'It's not like anyone is going to know!' Orous thought in frustration, his stomach churning in such a way he felt sick and his heart fluttering fearful at the awareness of everyone watching him when he was taking so much longer then everyone else.
'I'll know. Hmm... You don't strike me as a Slytherin, or a Ravenclaw for that matter but it's difficult to tell when I can barely tell anything. Hufflepuff or Gryffindor I think are more fitting for you, it's difficult to decide which without knowing you better. Since I suppose we don't have all night to deduce you in more detail, I think we should go with... HUFFLEPUFF!'
Orous was quite right on the assumption they wouldn't get much sleep, he heard Latimer tossing and turning in the bed - Latimer had magically cleaned it, they were still in Hogsmeade so it was undetected - when it was his turn to guard and knew he did the same when it was his turn to sleep. He thought - or at least hoped - that they managed to get some sleep during the night, Maurice still never returned from the other room. The second day didn't seem as bad, he and Latimer both kept talking now they felt oddly more comfortable with each other. They discussed both relevant things worrying about the others and other things to distract themselves, Latimer went on another food run sometime after lunch when Maurice still hadn't come out. He returned with no news, there'd been no change with Vern, Ashain or the Aurors so the Shadows were apparently still biding their time. It felt a frustratingly long day and both went out under the cloak to stretch their legs for a bit too, even Orous as he was cramped from sitting on the floor so much.
It wasn't until evening that Maurice abruptly left the room, he closed the door behind him and leaned back against it. Orous felt his anger reignited, it quickly turned to horror when he saw the blood on Maurice's robes. What had he been doing to the guy? Maurice's expression was completely neutral, feeling no kind of remorse or regret for his actions. He was heartless like their mother. He did look tired though, the bags his eyes carried were deep and dark. They waited for a moment for him to answer but he seemed content to catch his breath, they couldn't even say anything until his hand went to his necklace.
"Well?" Latimer prompted before Orous could say the same.
"I know where Abby, Cassia and Lily are," Maurice confirmed, much to Orous' relief. The entire ordeal not paying off would make it even worse, as if they sold their souls for nothing, "We can go after them."
"Why did it take so long?" Orous wondered.
"Mostly because we need him alive and capable of moving for my plan so I was limited in the damage I could inflict," Maurice casually explained and Orous immediately regretted asking, "Plus he was pretty resilient, I think a day and a bit isn't so bad though. Torture is tiring."
"Torture is tiring? You have got to be kidding me," Orous shot out before he could stop himself, refusing to feel sympathy for any torturer even Maurice, "The victim is the one suffering."
"I didn't say the victim wasn't suffering, I said it was tiring. I've been using mostly advance magic without rest for over twenty-four hours, yes that is tiring."
"You wouldn't complain if you knew what it was like to be tortured."
"I know what it's like to be tortured, Orous," Maurice said darkly, "It's part of the curriculum at the Shadow School and it's what they use for punishment, the best way to teach you to resist torture is actually forcing you to resist torture. We're also taught to use it against each other so I've experienced it then, then Pyrrhus tortured me last year and Alzay tortured me after the test. Don't assume I haven't been tortured, I've been on both sides and I know the positives and negatives better then you."
"There is nothing positive about torture! Are you even capable of feeling pain!? Of feeling any emotion?!"
"What would you define finding the location of our friends as then? And obviously yes, I'm human."
"Could've fooled me, I-"
"Both of you, focus," Latimer interjected, "We've spent enough time, we need to go after them."
"I couldn't agree more," Maurice agreed, a cold smile forming on his lips that was identical to their mother's. Maurice was a lost cause, "This is where the fun begins."