CHAPTER SEVEN
Cast Long Shadows
Harry knew better than to talk as he observed his reflection. He was in no mood to hear the mirror's sharp comments today.
It was difficult to believe that it had been less than a fortnight since he'd stood in front of another mirror, excited about his first day as an Auror Cadet. So much had happened since then, and nothing made that clearer than what he was wearing.
In a change from his usual tunic and hose, Harry now wore a simple robe and cloak, both black, made of cotton, and unadorned with runes. In a sign of respect to the departed, those that remained mourned them without the comfort or luxury of magic on the day of their funeral.
It was an archaic practice that had fallen out of favour with many sorcerers. Some preferred to mourn or be mourned in ways that adhered to their personal beliefs and values, but it was still common amongst Aurors. Despite the home he'd been raised in, Harry held no spiritual beliefs of his own, but he felt guilty that he could not entirely adhere to those of his fallen captain.
He could not leave his blackthorn wand behind.
His mokeskin pouch and onyx Ouroboros had already been set aside last night, as tradition called for as little contact with magic as possible, but he couldn't let go of his strongest weapon and greatest shield. He felt too vulnerable without it.
Knowing that he couldn't blatantly wear his hip holster amongst the other mourners (even if he could somehow fit it around his flowing robes) Harry instead fashioned a wrist holster out of strips of fabric that he'd cut from a pillowcase. It had taken a while to pull off without magic, which was why Maia was forced to call him from the entrance foyer for the third time that morning.
"Harry!" She shouted up the stairs. Her voice reverberated throughout the halls of Keystone House. "You're going to be late!" There was a pause and then brief murmuring between herself and Remus before she called again. "It's perfectly understandable if you don't want to go, but you also can't show up late to this sort of thing!"
He knew that she and Remus were just trying to be as supportive as possible, but the idea of not going made him hurry out of his room and down the stairs. He was afraid they might try to send regrets on his behalf. How disrespectful would it be to Captain Solace if one of her students didn't show up to her funeral?
Harry refused to give her detractors the pleasure.
His godparents jumped apart as he came racing down the stairs, as though trying to hide that they'd been talking about him. "You look nice," Remus said pleasantly. He then winced when he realised that appearance wouldn't be Harry's most pressing concern today.
Mercifully, Harry simply took it in stride. "Thank you," he said politely, before glancing around. "Where's Nicolas?" He asked, not all that concerned. He doubted his mentor would choose today of all days to let him down for the first time.
Maia spoke then as if relieved that she had a chance to be useful. "He's just gone to bring the Thestral carriage around. I know that sounds morbid," she added when Harry made a face, "but you can't exactly hike to Toil's End. So, unless you want to arrive on a carriage pulled by unicorns…" she trailed off.
Harry sighed. "I suppose I can ditch it and walk the last stretch."
"That's the spirit!" Remus said encouragingly. This time Harry couldn't stop his bemused frown. "Sorry," he grimaced. "I'm a bit useless in times like these." Maia pinched the bridge of her nose, but Harry wasn't annoyed.
"It's fine. You don't have to walk on eggshells around me." He reassured them both. "It'll make me feel better if you just go back to normal." He wasn't lying. It had been seven days since the mission to Acacia Asylum, and his godparents were already driving him around the bend with how tentative and accommodating they were being.
Nicolas was no better. While he remained his usual affable self on the surface, he'd taken to quietly observing Harry, as though waiting for him to crack. It was annoying, but Harry knew to be sympathetic towards him; funerals must be strange for a man who couldn't die.
The man himself opened the door and paused at the sight of them, gathered in the foyer just in front of the entrance, but swiftly snapped out of it and gestured for Harry to follow. "I've already told the Thestrals where to take you," Nicolas said as he ushered him through the door and the front gardens toward the large black carriage at the end of the path. "Just ask them to bring you home when it's all over."
Harry nodded and climbed into the carriage without another word. He knew that they were all trying to do their best by him, but he was glad to get away from them for just a while. He hadn't had any time to himself in days.
The Thestrals began to trot the moment he closed the carriage door. In a matter of moments, they'd gathered enough speed to take off and soar into the evening sky. Harry leaned against the wall of the carriage and pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window, hoping to distract himself with Memphis' majestic vistas.
The carriage flew high over the city, its many roads appearing like cracks on a pane of glass and the wide river that divided it into two was turned a fiery orange by the setting of the artificial sun. In the very centre of the river, and therefore in the very centre of the city, was the Palace of Hoca. From this great height, it appeared to be the pupil in the world's largest eye.
Harry knew he was merely distracting himself with flickering thoughts and strange observations, but he didn't want to face what he knew was coming just yet.
It was dark by the time he arrived at Toil's End.
There were two glacial mountain ranges within Memphis' Boundary: the first was to the far north of the city. Its melted ice turned into the flowing river that the capital was built around. The second was hallowed ground far south of the city. It was only trodden upon when a sorcerer was put to rest in accordance with the old ways.
It took a few minutes after landing for Harry to get out of the carriage because- despite Remus having shown him how to do it just hours earlier- he had trouble lighting the lantern without the use of magic. He didn't bother glancing around for directions as he wasn't the only person to arrive with the assistance of a Beast.
There were several carriages parked in the small valley, and Anthony, Michael and Terry were standing before a large one that was pulled by a pair of powerful Abraxans. Like him, they wore black cotton robes and cloaks unadorned with runes which left them shivering in the cold. He doubted they had brought their wands. They tended to be more respectful about this sort of thing than he was.
"Thestrals?" Terry asked the moment he was in earshot. "Bit grim, isn't it?"
Harry nodded slowly, not sure why he was so surprised that Terry could see them. They had all witnessed multiple deaths when Elissa Corner slew those Fallen Sun Rogues last year. Everywhere the Acolytes go, death quickly follows. Ignoring that errant thought, Harry said, "It was either this or Unicorns."
"Good call," Anthony said hoarsely. It was clear he hadn't spoken in a while.
Harry felt a rush of guilt. This was the first time he'd seen his friends since they had been taken back to London Citadel for medical examination and statements. He had wilfully wrapped himself up in his anger and grief about that night's events and purposely distanced himself from having to deal with theirs.
Whether because he knew that Harry had nothing to say, or he was just trying to fill empty air, Michael spoke up. "I hitched a ride with these two. Didn't want to bring Susan, or Thoth forbid, Amelia to this."
Harry hummed. "I know exactly what you mean." His guardians had all offered to accompany him, but it had felt disingenuous to have people who'd never met Captain Solace at her funeral.
A voice called for them then. "Boys," Joan poked her head around the corner of the carriage. "It's time."
The boys glanced uncertainly at one another. Knowing that someone had to move first, Harry stepped forward to obey Joan's ushering. Despite his outward stoicism, he felt glad when the others followed him.
When they walked around the carriage, they were met with an icy beach that bordered a wide, slowly flowing river. The peak of the mountain rose even higher behind them, and the water flowed from the ice beneath their feet. There were no buildings or glaciers on either side of the river, so the landscape was barren and clear for miles around, and the river stretched out into the darkness, far beyond what their eyes could see.
Above their heads, the emerald swirls of the Aurora Australis lit up the night sky like luminescent brushstrokes. Harry was reminded painfully of the first test that Captain Solace had devised for them.
He tried to avoid looking at the small boat that carried her remains, but found it impossible. The silver shroud that covered her body was embroidered with a rising sun: the proud crest of the Auror Corps. It was sheer enough for him to make out the black, metallic band that had been wrapped around her eyes: the result of the alchemical process that had transformed her Ouroboros into a blindfold. It was said that Aurors spent their entire lives on guard, but she no longer had to remain vigilant. Lastly, held in the hands that were folded on her chest, was her wand. It and the Ouroboros were the only earthly things that would remain with her in the Celestial Realm.
As the four joined the other black-robed mourners at the water's edge, a bizarre thought came to Harry. How strange was it that he'd never been to a funeral before? After all, his life had been shaped by death from the moment of his birth. This should be familiar to him, terrible but familiar, but his thoughts and feelings were disordered, adrift, lost at sea.
He didn't know what he was supposed to do. So he did what he always did in such scenarios. He carefully observed those around him to discover and then mimic their correct behaviour.
There were more people here than he would have expected- numbering almost in the triple digits- but he suspected many of them were simply here to pay respect to a fallen Auror. While he hadn't known her for very long, Alexandra Solace didn't seem like the sociable type.
At the very edge of the water, standing close to the small wooden sailboat that carried their captain, was Commander Boot. He was whispering pleadingly to a tall, flaxen-haired witch. Even though no one was trying to listen in, everyone present was waiting in silence so his words carried over in bits and pieces across the still, icy air.
"…please consider…" he was saying, "…at least say something…"
Harry felt a flash of anger as the witch remained stone-faced despite what was being asked of her. He didn't know who she was, but if she was close enough to Captain Solace to be chosen as the Wand Bearer, then she had no right to refuse.
But the other mourners pretended not to hear, so he did the same.
Finally, Joan stepped away from the boys to stop her husband from causing a scene. She pulled him away, but not before he held his hand out towards the woman, palm side up. After a second, she reached into one of her wide sleeves and withdrew her wand before handing it to him.
Harry felt his anger peak. The Wand Bearer was the person closest to the departed, the person they trusted most out of those that remained amongst the living. And she just gave that position up like it was nothing.
The Commander stepped in front of the gathered mourners and began to address them solemnly, as though he hadn't just lost a one-sided argument. "We are here to honour the life and service of Captain Alexandra Solace." He didn't raise his voice, but it still carried well across the beach. "She was a brilliant, driven, single-minded witch whose ascension was cut far too short. We lost not only a great Auror but a great woman, one who was a reliable comrade, a proven protector and an honoured teacher." He paused then, as though allowing the weight of his words to sink in.
"We Aurors are named after the rising sun, to remind us that light will always return after periods of darkness. It is up to you now," he said directly to Harry, Anthony, Terry and Michael, "to carry her will going forward. Return the light to us when this darkness has passed."
He turned and waved his borrowed wand at the boat, sweeping it forward to be carried away by the current. When the silver shroud was too far away to see, the Commander raised the borrowed wand and launched an orange fireball into the night sky.
Without losing size or shape, the fireball curved in the air and descended onto the distant ship, setting it ablaze. For minutes on end, the mourners stood there in silence and watched the flames rage on the still sailing boat. When it was little more than a flickering orange speck on the horizon, it finally crossed the Barrier that separated Memphis from the rest of the world. Then Commander Boot raised his wand to the sky and held it there as though in tribute.
While what remained of the burnt boat continued out of sight, a swirl of emerald stars rose into the night sky, merging with the Aurora Australis. Whatever remained of Alexandra Solace- her body, wand and Ouroboros- was now with the loved ones that had departed before her in Halcyon, the Celestial Realm.
Slowly, the mourners dispersed and made their way back to their carriages. Harry noticed that the blonde witch was still by the water's edge, staring up at the Southern Lights.
"Who is she?" Harry asked Joan as the others headed back up the glacier.
Joan followed his eyes and the sorrow in her face only deepened. "Felicia Solace. Don't judge her too harshly," she added when Harry's eyes widened. "She lost her parents to the Corps many years ago. Alexandra was the only family she had left."
But that wasn't why Harry was so surprised. The name Felicia had been on the forefront of his mind for days, along with Captain Solace's last words. He had no idea how to locate someone by their first name alone, but he'd never even considered looking into the immediate family, which was ludicrous in retrospect.
Still, he was glad he hadn't searched for Felicia before now. He would get around to passing on the captain's message, but only when he could be sure his emotions wouldn't compromise him.
Turning away from the still-frozen witch, Harry followed Joan back to the carriages.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
"I kept hesitating." Harry was stuck on that point, unable to shake it from his mind. "Even before I knew I was outmatched, I still kept hesitating."
It was the day after the funeral, and Harry and his family had returned to Brightstone House earlier that morning. He was due to return to Hogwarts tomorrow, but he was adamant about fitting in at least a few short hours of training with Nicolas before his departure.
The two stood on the bank of the river that divided their home in two and the chilly air forced them to bundle up in heavy winter cloaks. Nicolas had shaken his head when Harry had gone to change into his training gear. Today's lesson was only theoretical.
"You hesitated because you have more options in your arsenal than you did before." Harry appeared confused, so Nicolas explained what he meant. "Before you were forced to get creative with the little number of spells that you could cast, but now you have an abundance to pick from." His eyes narrowed as he examined Harry critically for a moment before nodding to himself. "It's time you chose a speciality."
Harry frowned. "I'm going to become a Sage." He said this with certainty, a childish part of him hoping that if he voiced it out loud enough times it would come true. "I'm going to become Magister. I'll master all six Esoteric Arts, not just one-!"
"You don't have time for that." Nicolas interrupted, his blunt voice taking the wind out of Harry's sails. "It'll take years to master all six Esoteric Arts, and even then you'll end up favouring one or two over the others. Pick one now while you're still young and developing so rapidly."
Harry sighed. "Then I'll focus on elemental spells and supplement them with Marital Magic. I'll paper over any cracks with charms and conjuration, maybe some illusions thrown in to give me an edge." While he hadn't gotten around to learning them, he already had ideas on how he could use illusions to complement his duelling style.
"You've already thought about this?" Nicolas sounded pleased. "That's good, it'll save us time."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Save us time?" He knew why he was in such a rush to push himself further; every day his eighteenth birthday grew closer, and with it his last chance to save his parents from the hell they had put themselves in for his sake. Coupled with his prophesied confrontation with Voldemort and the next four and a half years were looking far too short for his liking.
Nicolas shrugged. "I'm only thinking of how annoying you'll be if we don't rescue your mother and father. We're on borrowed time here."
Harry glanced back at the house. "You haven't told Maia and Remus about this, have you?"
"I'm a man of my word," he said solemnly and Harry relaxed.
"I know I should be focusing on mastering what I already know," Harry started cautiously, afraid that Nicolas might deny him. "But fighting that Death Eater and seeing the duel between Captain Solace and Dolohov made me realise how much I'm lacking." He quickly explained the speed those three had exhibited, as well as the strength they so casually displayed. Nicolas didn't seem all that impressed, but that changed when he heard about Solace and Dolohov's Mana, how it moved independently of them and briefly took shape. But what seemed to surprise him most was Dolohov's second wind.
"You're certain that his Mana Reserves were depleted?" Nicolas asked sharply.
Harry nodded quickly, unused to seeing his master so on edge. "Yes. One minute, I couldn't sense enough magic in him for a stable Wand-Lighting Charm and the next he was back to full form."
"No, not full form," Nicolas muttered to himself. His brows furrowed as he ruminated on what he'd just been told. After a minute, Harry cleared his throat and he started. "Well, get the idea of Mana Cloaks and Combat Avatars out of your mind for now," he said firmly. "You're nowhere near ready. But as for the physical enhancements…yes, I think you might be able to add that final brick to your foundation."
"Foundation?" Harry tried and failed to hide how much that bothered him. "This is still basic stuff?"
"For high-ranked Aurors and Professional Duellists? Yes. Yes, it is." Nicolas smiled. "Take heart, little Henry. You've already ascended higher than most witches and wizards in the world."
"Well, when you put it like that…" Harry smiled. "What's this physical enhancement?"
"Body Enhancement," Nicolas explained. "The speed and strength you've already noticed being utilised by powerful sorcerers is not borne from physical training alone, but by the deployment of Mana throughout the body."
Harry blinked. "So, when they move really fast it's not because they're naturally quick but flooding their legs with magic?"
"Their entire bodies." Nicolas corrected hastily. "If you attempt to strengthen your legs alone and then kick off running…well, the result would be unpleasant for you." He sighed. "I once knew a young man who broke his back attempting such a thing. While I managed to heal him, he found the experience rather traumatising."
Harry grimaced, deciding to leave that alone for now. "How about what Dolohov did?" He half expected Nicolas to brush him off, declaring that he was not ready for such a technique. So he was surprised when he got a straightforward answer.
Straightforward by Nicolas' standards anyway.
"Did you know that the Ancient Egyptians believed that the soul was divided into five parts?" Nicolas rhetorically. Which was good as Harry had no idea how he was supposed to reply to that. "However, the Great Sage Thoth only discovered three: the Identity, the Shadow, and the Life Force.
"The Identity is an individual's personality, the part of oneself that you feel and experience every day. It is the part that returns to this realm as a ghost if one feels they have unfinished business." He gestured at Harry. "It is also the part that is most prone to change, as you very well know." He was obviously referring to the fake vision he and Lady Wen had put him in. Even though it hadn't been real, its impact on Harry had been profound.
"So, it represents the mind?" Harry struggled to absorb this sudden knowledge. He'd woken up expecting a physical workout, not a discussion on what made up the human soul.
Nicolas nodded. "If the Identity is the mind, then the Shadow is emotion. Do you remember what I said about love, mercy and hope?"
Harry nodded. "They're the most powerful kinds of magic."
Nicolas hummed. "The Shadow is the part that binds us to others, for better or worse. It is the part of us that leaves an impact on the world through those who know us." His voice dipped slightly in empathy as he asked. "You felt something when your captain passed, didn't you?" Harry nodded. "The Shadow is what we leave behind in others and is affected by what others leave behind in us. Love and hatred. Joy and rage. There is some truth when people say that they give away parts of themselves to those they love. But the same is also true when it comes to those they hate. The only true way to avoid this is through apathy, which I wouldn't recommend."
Harry recalled the deadly aura that had washed out of Elissa Corner when they had stood between her and Michael. It hadn't been his imagination then, as he'd truly felt her cold anger and an overwhelming desire to kill, which had been strong enough to make them collapse even after her departure.
"The Life Force should be self-explanatory. It is what Dolohov used to escape that night." Harry, having shrunk slightly when Nicolas had brought up Solace, perked up now that they were getting to the heart of the matter. "It is the unknowable energy that keeps us alive. Antonin Dolohov simply tapped into that power to replenish his depleted reserves."
Harry stared at him. "Just like that? He tapped into his Life Force just like that?"
Nicolas rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "It is far more difficult in practice than its description would have you believe. It is something he likely learned from his master."
Harry nodded slowly. "Right, but how do you know it then?" Nicolas seemed confused, but Harry didn't let it go. "If it's rare enough that even a Master like Dolohov would need Voldemort to teach it to him, then how do you know it?"
"I'm Nicolas Flamel! What don't I know?" Usually, this answer would be more than enough for Harry. His master had previously shown expertise in all fields of magic, but his uncomfortable air made him pause. It was the same look he'd worn after Harry returned from the Chamber of Secrets.
"Only one other in the world has studied the soul as extensively as I." Harry quoted. "Voldemort told me that. You practically told me that you've looked for ways to kill yourself and trying to deplete your Life Force seems a pretty good way to do it." He clenched his jaw, trying to push down the feelings of betrayal. "You developed this technique, didn't you? You trained him, didn't you?"
To his credit, Nicolas did not lie. "Yes." He was facing Harry, but his eyes were trained on his collar instead of his face. His shame was clear.
But Harry didn't care. "I don't know why I'm so surprised. This is the same man who thought it was a good idea to stop my heart from beating just to maintain a lie." Harry knew that he should stay calm and employ Occlumency, but he couldn't stay here anymore. "I'm going back to school now." He turned and marched back to the house, trying to compose himself before he entered and his godparents could see how upset he was.
The worst thing was, he'd suspected the truth soon after that meeting in Dumbledore's office. He'd said the name Tom Riddle and Nicolas had been weighed down ever since. Instead of laughing off the events that took place in the Chamber of Secrets as just another one of Harry's adventures, he'd doubled down on his training and paid more attention to how outclassed he was than before.
He knows I can't compare to his prized student, Harry thought bitterly.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Harry was glad to be back at Hogwarts.
Time had slowed to a crawl in the week between the Acacia Asylum mission and his return to school. He'd lacked the many pressing obligations he enjoyed as a student, one of which was his rank as the 12th Sentinel.
Aside from the few patrols that Professor Hooch asked him to conduct- particularly around the potion storeroom and the infirmary's stock of regulated remedies and concoctions- the only requirement he was forced to oblige were the challenges for his position from lower-ranked Sentinels. This didn't sound like much, but there were many of them.
It was just too bad that none were a challenge to him.
"I want a nice, clean duel," Hooch said warningly. Her eyes were fixed on Harry as she spoke, and he tried not to roll his own. "Nothing excessive or embarrassing. If you feel you can win, get it done."
"Yes, Professor," Harry said in a monotone. His opponent for the day, a Seventh Year Gryffindor named Sydney Lott, looked insulted. A teacher telling a younger student to take it easy on you must be grating. But Harry had developed a reputation over the last fortnight; he was the wall the other Sentinels couldn't pass to reach the Top Eleven.
Sydney looked even more insulted when Harry kept his wand at his side and his other hand in his pocket when Hooch gave the signal to begin.
Sydney began probing him cautiously, sending a couple of harmless jinxes his way to see if he'd put up any defences. When he leaned to his left to evade her Jelly-Legs Jinx and then tilted his head to his right to avoid the following Dangling Jinx, she lost her composure and broke into a sprint toward him.
Which was precisely what he wanted her to do.
Sydney was fast, but she was clearly unenhanced. Compared to Solace and Torrington, she looked like she was moving through molasses. Harry continued to evade her spells with minimal effort, further aggravating her. Then, when she was past the centreline and shot a Stunning Spell at him, he tensed ever so slightly, waiting for the last possible moment.
Propulso!
His right arm a blur, Harry caught the jet of red light on the tip of his wand and flung it back at her twice as fast. He saw Sydney's eyes widen from thirty yards away, and she tried to throw herself to the side to no avail. It was too late. The spell hit her full in the face, dropping her to the ground.
Hand still in his pocket, Harry coolly watched as the Seventh Year was carried forward by her momentum, rolling and kicking up dirt as she skidded to a stop before him.
"It's over in an instant, folks!" Lee's voice echoed across the stadium, adding to the cacophony of shouts, cheers and boos. It was a mark of how uninterested Harry was in the duel itself as he hadn't been able to block the commentary like he usually did. "Lott is downed by her own spell! Potter holds onto the rank of 12th Sentinel once more!"
Harry turned and walked back to the changing room, frustrated with the ease of his victory. That was the eighth challenge he'd accepted in only two weeks, as there had been a backlog during his absence last term. How was he supposed to get stronger if he didn't have anyone powerful to fight against?
The same idea crossed his mind as it always had over the last fortnight whenever his frustrations mounted; why not challenge someone higher ranked than him? Well, from the many school duels he'd watched, Harry knew that- despite his current rank- there were only three students at Hogwarts who could best him without question. One he didn't know personally and therefore couldn't ask favours from, another was a friend who'd already denied him out of misplaced concern and the third-
Harry's train of thought came to a stop as the changing room door banged open.
"See! I told you he wouldn't bother getting dressed in here!" Padma called over her shoulder at Lisa who was peeking from behind her fingers. "He didn't even break a sweat."
"Well, I didn't want to risk it," Lisa said as she lowered her hands from her blushing face.
Harry scowled briefly at Padma. He knew that she'd hoped to catch him in a state of undress to embarrass him. Ignoring her, he walked over to Lisa. "Told you that wouldn't take long."
Lisa rolled her eyes at him. "I'd say you were very impressive, but I hardly saw what happened it was over so quickly."
Harry ushered her out of the changing room and back towards their gathered friends. "If I didn't have homework to do, I would have toyed with her for longer." Lisa chuckled as the group headed back up to the castle where an afternoon of essays and assignments awaited them. Harry wouldn't have considered it all that noteworthy under normal circumstances, but this would be the first time the four Third Year Ravenclaw boys would be hanging out together since their leave of bereavement ended a fortnight ago.
It took him a while to understand, but it eventually became obvious that each of them was dealing with the loss of Captain Solace in their own way.
Anthony had all but fallen off The Marauder's Map. He showed up for class but took his meals in the kitchens and stayed away from Ravenclaw Tower. Harry would have thought that he was training, but he'd noticed that Luna Lovegood was nowhere to be found these days as well. When he tracked her down to check in on his friend, she had spoken to him with unexpected clarity.
"Anthony's a very impatient person," Luna had told him quietly as he walked her to her Arithmancy class. "He knows that he has to distract himself or he'll do something silly."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "You've been…distracting him?"
She didn't seem to catch his meaning and answered innocently. "Oh, yes. He has begun assisting Professor Hagrid and me with the creatures in the enclosure and," she glanced around surreptitiously before lowering her voice, "helping me track down a group of Dabberblimps that have settled in the Forbidden Forest. But you mustn't tell anyone, Harry."
"I wouldn't even if I knew what Dabberblimps were." He had meant it as a joke, but Luna saw it as an invitation to tell him all about the mysterious creatures and their disturbing mating habits. When Professor Vector poked her head out of her classroom five minutes later and gave him Saturday Detention for making her student late, Harry was quietly grateful.
Terry had thrown himself into his healing work. While Harry had only called him their team's medic to convince him to enlist last year, Terry had taken it to heart and volunteered to assist Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing as well as Healer Sherman in the Citadel infirmary. Most of his time was now spent working, and Harry felt obligated to check that it wasn't out of misplaced guilt.
"No one could have saved her because she was too far gone." The two sat in the dark common room. Harry had waited for him to return from the Citadel after a late shift in the infirmary. "My dad already made sure I knew that."
"Then why-?"
"Wisdom alone is a strength," Terry spoke his family's words with more gravity than Harry had ever heard from him. "If something like this happens again and I still can't do anything, then it really is my fault because I didn't learn my lesson the first time around." His voice was firm, telling Harry that he wouldn't be swayed from this line of thinking.
While Harry thought Anthony and Terry might be dealing with things the wrong way, he wasn't exactly sure what to think about what Michael had been getting up to. He didn't know when or how it had happened exactly, but one day he caught wind of a rumour that Michael and Su were now an item.
Harry would have brushed it off as just another example of how rumours can warp the truth, but it quickly proved true a number of times. The two seemed to take pleasure in snogging in public places, so much so that a member of staff had to break them apart more than once. As they were joined at the hip these days, Harry didn't exactly get the opportunity to ask Michael how he was holding up.
Harry hoped that today's study session would be an opportunity for them to regroup and come to a census on what had happened and what they would do going forward.
Unfortunately, things didn't go as he had planned. Terry left early as Healer Sherman called for his assistance, Michael didn't separate his lips from Su's and Anthony never even bothered to show up.
He really should have expected this after last year. Whenever things got tough, they all separated themselves from the others, as though dealing with dark matters alone was their first instinct.
Harry was left alone with Lisa and the other girls as they worked to complete this week's homework assignments before the next could be dumped onto them. As he listened to the conversation going on around him with only one ear, Harry wondered why he'd expected anything different from his friends when he was no better.
Harry had devoted every waking minute to his training. When he woke in the morning, he practised his Occlumency, in class he fine-tuned his Mage Sight (which led to odd looks from the few teachers who were practised enough to pick up on what he was doing), and his evenings were spent doing his old training routine.
It got to the point where Remus began voicing his concerns. He had taken to randomly inviting Harry to his living quarters for tea, and if he didn't have a verifiable excuse to get out of it other than training, he had to go. Now that he was no longer angry with him, Harry found it a lot harder to ignore Remus than he did last year.
When he entered Remus' quarters the following day, Harry was surprised to find that they had company. Professor Sinistra was sitting on the same sofa as his godfather, which wouldn't have been all that noteworthy if it wasn't for the way they sprang apart from each other.
"I didn't mean to interrupt," Harry said awkwardly. "I should have knocked."
"No," Remus coughed. "I invited you both to join me for tea. Please," he gestured to the usual armchair Harry took when he was hanging out in here.
Harry eyed them both suspiciously as he sat down. He'd been ambushed enough times to recognise a setup when he saw one. Still, his wary nature wasn't enough to stop him from reaching for an egg and cress sandwich. "What's this about?"
Now that she was more composed, Sinistra spoke to him as bluntly as ever. "You haven't been to Art Club since June."
"I was busy last term," Harry spoke with his mouth full and he could see Remus cringe.
Sinistra didn't seem to notice his lack of manners. "And this term?"
Harry swallowed and then shrugged. "Busier still."
"Not too busy to come and see me," Remus muttered.
Harry shot him an annoyed glance. "If you don't want me here, then stop inviting me over."
"You know that's not what I-"
"We're getting a little off-topic," Sinistra interrupted. "You're going through something difficult right now. There's no sugarcoating it. But art can help you with that."
Harry scowled. "What do you know about it?"
Sinistra didn't match his bad attitude. "I lost my parents in the war," she said evenly.
Harry immediately deflated. "I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't-"
"I'm not looking for sympathy. I just know from experience that it does help. Art I mean." She sounded a little flustered. Harry had a feeling that she wasn't used to talking about her own losses. "It was recommended to me in therapy to help me process my thoughts."
Harry nodded tiredly. He had known this for years, and his recently assigned Mind Healer had offered him the same advice. But he liked Sinistra, so he told her what he had withheld in therapy. "It's always helped me before, but this time..." he paused. "I can't deal with it yet." I don't want to deal with it yet, he wanted to say. "Can I just have some time? I don't want to give up drawing, I just-"
"Take all the time you need," Remus said quickly. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't avoiding reality."
"You were right," Sinistra said to Remus. "He isn't the type to give up." Harry was morbidly fascinated by the soppy smiles they exchanged, but he must have made his interest too obvious because Remus quickly sobered and cleared his throat.
"I better get going." Harry snatched a second sandwich and stood to leave. "Don't worry, I'll knock next time. I wouldn't want to see something that would scar me."
"N-no," Remus spluttered. "You won't-! I mean, that won't be necessary-!" His words were drowned out by Sinistra's laughter which Harry could hear even after he closed the door.
He was glad for whatever was going on between them. Not only because Remus deserved to be happy, but because of the distraction it had caused. Had his godfather confronted him alone, he might have realised that Harry had only asked for more time because he didn't want to let go of his anger just yet. Not when it could be put to use.
Harry had tried to figure out how to augment his body on his own, but he found it difficult without a teacher. He hadn't spoken to Nicolas since his discovery, and his grimoire remained stubbornly blank when it came to this technique, almost as though it were admonishing him for ignoring his master.
But that was alright. Harry had another teacher in mind, and she was guarding the potions storeroom with him tonight.
"So," Harry dragged out the word after minutes of silence. "How are things?"
Eliza sighed now that the quiet had been ruined. "What do you want?" She asked gruffly.
"I want you to teach me how to enhance my body for duelling." Harry decided to cut to the chase if she was going to be so impatient about it. "I've seen you use it during official duels."
She grunted. "We'll be rivals for the Triwizard. Why should I bother teaching you?"
Harry was flattered that she not only thought he could become part of the Hogwarts Triumvirate next term, but that he would pose a threat to her in the very final round when teammates had to fight amongst themselves. "We'll be on the same team for most of it. I'm guessing you don't want me dragging you down."
"We might not even be teammates if I don't teach you." Eliza reasoned.
"Pangborn, Blake, Townsend, Ashford, Bode, Shafiq and Marcher are all graduating this year, so they can't compete, which would leave you and Cedric with either Rittenhouse or Quinn." He smiled innocently at her. "Would you rather be on a team with me or one of them?"
That convinced her. Regina Quinn was a nice enough girl, but for someone who could duel so fiercely in the light of day, she was terribly skittish. More than once, Harry had seen her jump at shadows when he'd been paired with her on Sentinel duty. If she wasn't so likeable, he would have bluntly asked her why the Sorting Hat had put her in Gryffindor.
Samuel Rittenhouse was just a notorious prat.
He didn't bother mentioning anyone else. He'd seen their grades and doubted they could even pass the Qualifying Rounds anyway.
Eliza came to the same conclusion. "Training Hall. Saturday before breakfast." Eliza grit out before her eyes snapped forward once more, clearly determined to spend the rest of their shift in silence. Harry leaned back against the wall, happy to play along as he'd already gotten what he'd wanted.
The sky was still pitch black when he rose on Saturday. Harry arrived at the Cadet Training Hall on the sixth floor to find Eliza already waiting for him. She began her lesson the moment he entered the room, clearly not wanting to spend any more time with him than necessary. "You need to first become adept at meditation as-"
"I already know that." Harry cut in as he walked over to her.
Eliza scowled at having been interrupted but took that new knowledge in stride. "Then you'll need to master Occlumency-"
"Already done that too."
Eliza's frown only deepened. "Mage Sight?" Harry nodded silently, and she exploded at him. "What do you need me for then?!"
"I don't think I could have been clearer about this," Harry said defensively as he finally reached where she was standing. "I need you to teach me how to use Body Enhancement."
She rubbed the space between her eyebrows as though dealing with him was giving her a headache. "You just take what you've learned from all those other techniques and apply them to strengthening your body." She spoke hurriedly then, as though trying to cut off Harry's next question. "Instead of releasing your Mana through your wand or even into the world around you, you just have to contain it within your body and direct it to where it needs to go."
Under her watchful eye, Harry made his first attempt at doing so. He drew a minuscule amount of Mana from his internal well and allowed it to flow throughout his body instead of sending it down his arm and into his wand. He was surprised at just how little cost was required for this, as even coating the entirety of his person needed less energy than even the weaker spells in his arsenal.
"You have to be completely aware of every inch of yourself before moving." Eliza's voice seemed so much louder than before, and Harry realised that even his senses had been elevated by this new technique. "You're still growing, so your body is more prone to change right now than the people you'll end up fighting, so don't ever grow complacent in your awareness. Your body could have changed without you even realising it."
"What will happen if I use the wrong amount of Mana?" Harry asked, his entire body stiff and clenched as he felt the thrum of arcane energy flow through every bone and muscle.
"Too little and nothing will happen. Too much and you'll end up breaking something." She smirked at his nervous expression. "You should know that this is the easy part. You have to keep replenishing your body with Mana as you move, so doing it while casting spells is just too difficult for most."
Harry clenched his teeth, hating how outclassed he was against that Death Eater, even if it was in retrospect. In a desire to push himself even further, he took a step forward.
Which proved to be a mistake.
With a crack that sounded like gunfire, Harry's ankle snapped and rolled, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes. He had put too much energy into his leg and not the joint that controlled his forward movement. Collapsing to the ground with a yell, Harry tried to curl up instinctively, but that only led to him cracking his hips along the way.
As he struggled to close the faucet of power that was breaking his bones, he saw Eliza turn and walk away through watery eyes. "That's all I know when it comes to the theory behind this technique. You'll have to figure out the rest on your own."
"You're seriously not going to help?!" He wheezed at her departing back.
"Nope!" She called back as she left the hall, leaving him to heal his own injuries.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
As unhealthy as their methods of moving on were, it was still infinitely better than mandated therapy.
The boys had arrived at St. Mungo's as a group, but they were called in individually by alphabetical order before being allowed to return to school. This meant that Harry had to go in last.
The Mind Healer's office was as bland as can be, probably to prevent triggering any negative responses from patients. There was a desk against one wall, framed qualifications from Hogwarts, the Magisterium and Lady Lestari's Hospital nailed to another, and a bookcase stocked with tomes about healing practices of all kinds on the wall across from the door.
Facing one another were two high-backed leather armchairs in the centre of the room. Sitting in one already was a thin, bespectacled man with greying brown hair and a docile expression that Harry refused to be fooled by.
"You know, I don't appreciate the literature you have available in the waiting room," Harry complained as he took his seat across from Healer Swann. "Don't you think it's a little insensitive to have reports about the Acacia Asylum mission out in the open before my squad arrived?"
Swann was well aware of Harry's attitude towards therapy by now and remained calm in the face of his patient's hostile behaviour. "I'll make sure that no such thing is available next time, Harry. The last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable here."
Harry's hackles raised. Of course, he wanted him to be comfortable. How else would he draw out the information and secrets he wanted? "It's our third meeting. You should already know not to have anything waiting for us out there that could affect us." He raised an eyebrow. "Unless that's what you wanted? To have us on the backfoot?"
Swann's calm expression didn't change one iota. "I'll make sure the reading is more suitable for you upon our next meeting, but that's not why you're here today, is it?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't know why I'm here."
"You are here because you and your squadmates require my approval before returning to the field." Swann paused, as though waiting for Harry to speak, but when he remained silent, he continued, "Are you sure that there isn't anything you would like to discuss?"
Harry hummed. "Oh, there's a lot of things I'd like to discuss. Ravenclaw's chances of winning the House Cup again for a start." He felt a rush of vindictive satisfaction when Swann's expression twitched for the first time. "Our chances of winning the Quidditch Cup are already out the window, but I think it'll break Professor Flitwick's heart if we don't win the House Cup again."
"Harry," Swann's voice remained stubbornly level. "You know that's not what I meant."
"No?" Harry asked innocently. It was all Swann was going to get out of him, as the idea of sharing his innermost thoughts and feelings with a stranger was utterly abhorrent to him.
Swann leaned forward. "No, it isn't. What I feel we should discuss is what happened on New Year's Eve and, more importantly, what repercussions there were for you." Harry felt his stomach turn but utilised Occlumency to prevent it from showing on his face. He fell back into that barren white room in the centre of his mind where he was removed from his emotions. He must not have been as subtle about it as he thought because Swann frowned slightly before his expression returned to its docile state. "Do you blame Captain Solace for what happened? For taking you with her on a mission you were not prepared for? For walking you into an ambush?"
"You're a Healer by trade, right?" Harry asked abruptly, gesturing to the Healing Qualifications that were proudly displayed on his wall.
Swann blinked. "Yes."
Harry nodded. "So, you spent years training to save lives but now you spend your days sitting in a little office talking about people's feelings?"
"No, I-"
"You're a grown man who isn't even satisfied with wallowing in his own emotions, no," Harry shook his head mockingly. "You have to go and delve into the emotions of others to get your jollies. That's just sick."
Swann leaned back in his seat with a sigh. "Do you truly think Mind Healing is a sick profession, or do you simply believe that it makes one weak? Vulnerable? Yes," he nodded at the startled expression that rose too quickly for his Occlumency to suppress. "You're not the first patient who felt that way, Harry. Or do you think your godmother is weak for attending her meetings?"
The sudden mention of Maia's struggles and continued therapy sessions struck a little too close to home. He didn't think she was weak, rather it felt wrong to compare his pitiful struggles to the injustice that had stolen a decade of her life and replaced it with inhumane torture.
Not knowing what to say in response that wouldn't be disrespectful to her while also adhering to his own aversion, Harry simply stood and walked out of the office.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
"You're back!"
Harry returned to Ravenclaw Tower to find Lisa waiting for him by the fireplace, reading the latest instalment of The Heart's Darkest Curse. The common room was virtually deserted as most of Ravenclaw House was in Hogsmeade with the rest of the school. She hurried over and embraced him tightly even though they'd seen each other yesterday. "That was so fast! Anthony came back only ten minutes ago!"
Harry shrugged and leaned out of her hold. "I walked out. It's not for me."
"What?" Lisa peered at him as though trying to tell if he was joking or not. "That's silly. Therapy is for everyone."
"Really?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever been?"
She shook her head vehemently. "No, there's never been a need."
"So, it's not for everyone then, is it?"
Lisa rolled her eyes at him. "Harry, that's not-"
"I don't need it, just like you don't need it." His voice was stubborn and combative, even though all he wanted when returning to the castle was a few hours alone with his girlfriend while the rest of their friends were elsewhere.
"Yes, you do!" Lisa snapped loudly. The few students in the common room stopped pretending they couldn't hear and stared openly at them. "You've been in a bad state for weeks!"
Harry put a hand over his heart in a show of mocking sympathy. "Oh, I'm so sorry about that! Was that making things hard for you?"
"Yes! Yes, it was!" Lisa looked more upset than Harry had ever seen her. She normally took to ignoring him when he did something that wasn't to her liking. "You've been so quiet- it's creepy! I have to apologise to people whenever you ignore them, even though most are trying to give you condolences! And whenever we're alone together, I can tell you would rather be somewhere else," she said that last complaint quieter than the others, as though it hurt her more than she was willing to admit.
Harry felt bad about that, but not bad enough to calm down and apologise. "Well, I'm glad you told it to me straight for once instead of letting your friends bring me the message." He turned and walked out of the common room, knowing that there was no way to salvage their afternoon together.
When he reached the bottom of the spiral staircase, Harry glanced out the window towards Hagrid's hut and felt his stomach drop when he failed to see smoke rise from the chimney. He could go to see Remus, but then he would have to explain why he wasn't in therapy like he should be at this hour. Grumbling under his breath, Harry made his way to his private training hall even though his body was still sore from the training he'd done that morning.
It had only been a week since Eliza taught him the Body Enhancement Technique, and Harry had been training to use it ever since. Just like with all other kinds of magic, he was slowly learning to control this technique and add it to his arsenal with sufficient practice. While his limbs still strained after quick movements, he'd stopped injuring himself and was slowly getting the hang of being able to cast spells while utilising it, which was a great leap forward in his opinion.
Finally, hours after dark and with his body sweating and burning up from the excessive exercise, Harry left his training hall only to bump into Susan outside. "Hey, I was just coming to see you."
"What's up?"
She shrugged. "Just wanted to see if you were alright."
Harry stared at her. "The argument I had with Lisa has already made the rounds then?"
"Yeah." Susan grimaced. "Terry's working, Anthony probably doesn't even know because he's never around these days, and Michael asked me to come and check in on you."
"And he didn't come himself because…?"
"Well, Su is friends with Lisa and he's with Su now, so…"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Nice to know where I stand with that git."
Susan snickered. "Yeah, he's a prat," she said fondly, before walking away. "Come on."
Even though he just wanted to shower and crawl into bed, Harry appreciated what Susan was trying to do too much to brush her off. Jogging to catch up with her, he asked, "Where are we going then?"
"You'll see." She glanced at him furtively then. "Just promise you won't judge me."
Harry smiled. "I can't promise that I won't judge you," he spoke louder to make his voice heard over her protests, "but I promise to not think less of you."
Susan smiled back at him. "You really won't, will you?"
They worked their way down through the school, staircase after staircase in companionable silence until they reached the basement. "If you're trying to show me the Hufflepuff common room, I've already been, and it's not that impressive."
Susan rolled her eyes, gesturing to a blank stretch of wall that he knew to be the entrance to a secret passageway. "In here."
"Seriously, where are we going?" Harry asked. "I know that this passageway is only a shortcut towards your common room."
The dark corridor was only lit by their wands, but he couldn't miss Susan putting a finger to her lip for silence. "We don't want them to hear us." Instead of heading straight, Susan took the only available turn that led to a balcony over a small room Harry had never thought much of. "We don't have individual dorms like you Ravenclaws do, so when we need to study or just get some privacy, Hufflepuffs come in here."
The corridor opened into a balcony that surveyed a room strewn with furniture. Now that Susan had explained the obvious to him, it did resemble a common room but one that had curtains around tables and chairs that could be drawn for privacy. "Professor Sprout uses this balcony to check in on us to make sure we're not using the privacy for anything naughty." Susan giggled.
"So why bring me here?" Harry asked, wondering what on earth she was about to expose him to.
"To see that." She pointed down towards the only occupied seats. A Seventh Year girl was crying and her friends were trying to comfort her. "Carol just found out her boyfriend was cheating on her with a friend. All three of them had a huge fight in the common room a couple of hours ago. Spells were cast, Prefects got involved and Professor Sprout had to come and break the whole thing up. It was nuts."
Harry frowned at her. "What's this got to do with me?"
"I know it's wrong, but doesn't seeing other people break down make you feel better? Like you're not completely hopeless?" When it was clear he wasn't getting it, she further explained herself. "If everyone was perfect all the time and had problem-free lives, wouldn't that make you feel awful for being the only one that's messed up?"
Harry felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips and repeated what he said to Healer Swann earlier. "So, you get your jollies from delving into the emotions of others? That's sick, Bones."
Susan nudged him with her shoulder. "You promised not to judge."
"No, I promised not to think less of you, and I don't." He felt a growing warmth in his stomach and felt compelled to show it. He reached out and took hold of Susan's hand. She glanced down in surprise but didn't try to shake him off. Instead, she interwove her fingers with his own. "Thanks. I needed this." It was true, as this strange diversion helped him realise something about himself and why he loved the people that he did.
"You know, I put on an act in front of everyone I first meet, out of a need to impress them and be what I feel they want me to be." He paused and then corrected himself. "No, that's not right. I try to be everything I want them to see, and I don't think I even realised it until I got together with Lisa. Normally, when I know someone for this long, I can find common ground with them, you know? Something that lets me know that they're a little damaged as well, but I don't see that in her." He let out a deep breath. "You think you're wrong for finding relief in the pain of virtual strangers, but I do that with people I'm supposed to care about: my family, my friends, everyone."
"Why tell me?" Susan asked softly.
"Because I know you hate yourself a little too." Harry thought about those closest to him: Nicolas, Maia, Remus, Anthony, Terry, Michael and even jolly Hagrid. "I think if I know someone hates themselves, even just a little bit, then I can empathise with them. We all have something to feel guilty about or ashamed of, and that's what makes me trust someone because then I can understand them." I don't even think I want to understand Lisa, Harry added silently. "Anyway, how goes the election?"
Susan chuckled bleakly. "One morbid topic at a time, please."
Harry grimaced. "That doesn't sound good."
"No, but watching them makes me feel better." Susan nodded at the group of girls that were now holding back a screaming Carol from the apologetic girl that had entered the room. "This drama is going to keep me satisfied for weeks."
Harry chuckled. "You are twisted."
Susan smiled at him, squeezing his hand. "That makes two of us."
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Susan took the long way back to her dormitory, taking care to avoid those crying girls and clustered groups of students whispering about the latest Potter drama. Winding her way through the lesser-used corridors and passageways throughout the lower levels of the school, she didn't come across a single soul until she was a stone's throw away from the Hufflepuff common room, and it wasn't even a member of her own house.
"Oh!" A voice hidden by a large sack of (judging by the smell) fresh dragon manure exclaimed. "I'm sorry! I didn't see-" The carrier craned their neck over the sack to see who they were speaking to and stopped when their eyes met Susan's.
Having grown used to this cold treatment from her fellow students, Susan let it roll off her shoulders and squeezed past them. "Don't worry about it. My fault for taking the passageway between the greenhouses." She said this last bit to herself. She should have recalled that Herbology Club met on Saturdays and this passageway separated the WOMBAT greenhouses from the OWL and NEWT ones.
"Good luck."
Susan froze. "What?" Her voice was quiet but carried a note of danger in it. Just because she was trying to turn over a new leaf didn't mean she would take threats lying down. She slowly turned back to face him. "What did you say?"
The pudgy Gryffindor boy stiffened as though sensing a sudden threat. "I-I meant g-good luck with the election."
"How do you know about that?" She demanded. Aside from her friends, the only people she had told were her aunt Amelia and her Head of House. Both had tried to dissuade her from making a run for the Youth Seat.
It's too soon, Sprout had warned. Your father's crimes are still on people's minds.
That had been rough to hear, but it was better than what Amelia had said. Haven't you embarrassed this family enough? As though this had all been her fault, as though revealing Gilbert Bones for what he truly was had been the wrong thing to do. She knew her aunt- the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement- had been professionally humiliated for failing to notice that her only surviving sibling was a Death Eater, but that didn't mean Susan was in the wrong for exposing him.
At least that's what she told herself.
The nervous boy stuttered an explanation. "P-professor Sprout mentioned it. Was I not meant to know?"
Normally, Susan would do her best to keep her feelings to herself, but she was unable to swallow that groan of despair at hearing this. "No, you weren't mean to know." She leaned back against the wall and put her arm over her eyes, not wanting anyone to see the frustrated tears that had begun to build there. "Sprout mentioned this in Herbology Club?"
"Yes." He didn't sound any closer to her than before, but she could make out a touch of concern in his voice. "Rosie Caxton mentioned an interest in running and Professor Sprout encouraged her. She said her only competition was "little Susan Bones" and Rosie and her friends all…well they…"
"They all laughed." Susan finished lamely. She didn't even phrase it like a question as she knew it without a doubt; it was exactly the sort of thing she would have done a year ago. "Brilliant." Of all the people she had to run against, why did it have to be Rosie Caxton? Not only was she a pretty girl who always kept her blonde hair in the loveliest princess curls (which Susan was not jealous of), but the Sixth Year was from a Pureblood family- which appealed to the same kind of lowlifes as her father- while also maintaining strong friendships with Muggle-borns and held a healthy interest in Muggle culture to not alienate more reasonable witches and wizards.
Worse, she was the older sister of Poppy Caxton. When Susan had the younger Caxton sister at her beck and call, she had gotten along fabulously with Rosie, but that friendship had evaporated rather quickly when the whole Heir of Slytherin debacle started. Unlike Poppy, Rosie had a brain between her ears.
"You have my vote." Susan lowered her arm to find the nervous Gryffindor still there, watching her have a meltdown. "For the March Elections?"
"You don't even know me."
There was a flicker of emotion across the boy's face before his face settled into an awkward grimace. "You always used to stop people from making fun of me back at Pendle's."
"Oh." She recognised him now. "Neville Longbottom."
He looked at her with a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Yes."
"Sorry." It wasn't that he had changed much since they'd come to Hogwarts- he still had the same round face and short blonde hair- but with Hufflepuff having most of their classes with Ravenclaw, she hardly saw him around these days. Then she realised what he'd just said. "What? I didn't-" she swallowed the shame that had been rising in her throat- "I didn't do much for you."
Neville shook his head rapidly. "You always said something when someone took the mickey out of me." He took a step closer to her and she had to cover her nose and mouth before the scent of dragon dung got to her. "You got involved when you didn't have to."
Susan stared at him. She had only done that because the comments about his parents- driven insane by Death Eaters- had struck a little too close to home considering her mother. She wondered how he couldn't see that. "I need to go." She kicked off the wall and continued down the passageway. "Thanks for the vote."
"You're welcome!"
Susan didn't glance back even once, so she missed the look of longing on Neville's face.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
When Harry, Anthony, Terry and Michael received a summons to report to Commander Boot's office first thing the following Friday, they did so with no small amount of trepidation. Either Healer Swann had given his approval for them to return to the field under the guidance of a new Squad Captain or- more likely considering what Harry knew of his performance in the Mind Healer's office- their discharge would become formalised.
Still, even with all that was on the line, Harry was looking forward to leaving the school even if it was for just a day. Classes had been excruciating this past week, and not because the course load suddenly became unmanageable or anything, but due to who those classes were shared with. After Harry and Lisa's row on Saturday, lines had been drawn amongst the Third Year Ravenclaws, something Michael was not pleased about.
"Su won't even look at me now, she's so afraid of it getting back to Lisa." Michael was complaining as they made the short walk from the Apparition Point to the Citadel front gate. "I tried talking her into meeting me secretly, but she just walked right past me. You've got to fix it, Harry!"
"Please don't." Terry pleaded.
"Yeah, it's funny seeing Michael so desperate." Anthony agreed.
"I actually meant it was a good thing not having Lisa hanging around, but that too." Terry grinned.
Michael ignored them. "Harry! She's my girlfriend-!"
"And clearly her friendship with Lisa meant more to her than you did." Harry pointed out, annoyed as he'd been fielding Michael's begging all week long. "Professional now," he instructed firmly as the Citadel came into sight. He didn't want the gate Sentries to know about their pubescent troubles.
The four fell silent and marched right into the Citadel after presenting their badges at the gate. Making their way to the Commander's office, they waited around in the corridor outside until their appointment time came up and Terry impatiently hurried forward to knock.
"Come in!" An unfamiliar voice called. Harry was still trying to figure out why they would be calling people into an office that wasn't theirs when they entered. Commander Boot wasn't present but over by the fireplace was the owner of the unfamiliar voice.
General Felix Hartmann of the Berlin Citadel was an elderly man, at least seventy years of age- although it was hard to tell with sorcerers- with neatly combed white hair and a weather-beaten face. He stood straight with his arms crossed behind his back, his uniform pristine without a single crease from slouching. The golden runes on his onyx Ouroboros marked him as a Sage of the Six Esoteric Arts.
"General." The boys greeted him with solemn salutes.
"Sorry to pull you away from your classes, Cadets." Hartmann apologised in accent-less English. "But I felt it necessary to be the one who would debrief you and this was the only opening in my schedule today."
Debrief? Harry felt confused as they had been debriefed on their last mission the day after. However, he held his tongue as Captain Solace had trained them better than to run his mouth around a superior officer.
Hartmann continued. "Have you spoken about that night's events with anyone? Besides your Mind Healer and Commander Boot, of course."
Harry felt a wash of shame as he was the only one who did not shake his head. "I spoke about it with Lord Flamel and my godparents, General."
Fortunately, Hartmann seemed neither surprised nor displeased by this. "No matter. I will visit them tomorrow." He looked at them seriously then, and Harry knew what was about to be said next was a direct order from the highest-ranking Auror in Europe and Western Asia. "You should know that Lord Akingbade has decided to classify any knowledge regarding the Artifice that Acolyte Dolohov created." Harry twitched and it didn't escape his notice. "You have a question, Cadet Potter?"
It sounded like a threat, as though he couldn't believe anyone was questioning the Magister's order, but Harry decided to ignore that and take the offer at face value. "Yes, General. If the Acacia Asylum mission is classified, then will Captain Solace's actions be as well?" He felt minute movement from either side of him, so he knew that possibility hadn't occurred to his friends until now.
"The Magister and I both honour Captain Solace's deeds, but it is too dangerous to let our intel of this slip out just to honour a fallen Auror." Harry felt his stomach turn. Logically, he knew it was a sound decision, but the idea of the media and people like Healer Swann continuing to question her actions was enough to make his blood boil. "Lord Akingbade has deemed this necessary as neither our informants nor our Intelligence Division has received any information regarding Dolohov's demise."
Harry clenched his fists. Dolohov was still alive?! He'd assumed that his escape was to prevent his Artifice from falling into the hands of Aurors, but now…
"This is a direct order from the Magister himself." General Hartmann continued sternly. "Do not speak of this matter until he grants you permission to do so, which will only occur upon Dolohov's capture, the destruction of his Artifice and when we have ascertained whether or not he created duplicates or taught anyone else how to do so." His eyes scanned over them for a moment before asking, "Any questions?"
There's no way to respond without being disciplined for insulting a superior officer, Harry privately thought while intoning outwardly along with the others. "No, General."
Hartmann nodded. "Good. Dismissed."
The four remained silent as they walked out of the Citadel towards the Apparition Point. They didn't deviate towards the Boot family home as they usually would when visiting. None of them were in the mood to hang out.
"Harry." Michael finally broke the silence once they had apparated to Hogsmeade and began the trek up to the castle. "What are we going to do?"
Harry paused slightly before continuing without looking back. "Do?" He asked in a confused tone. "We don't have anything to do. Just work through therapy and hope we get put back in action before we take our NEWTs, I suppose."
Terry scoffed. "Come off it. We know you've got a plan and we want to help."
Harry stopped walking halfway up the steep climb to the castle. "What do you think I could even do in this situation?"
Anthony cut him off. "We all know you're going to do something, and we want in."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Oh, so now we're a team? You guys have all been off doing your own thing for a month and no matter how many times I tried to bring us back together-"
"There was nothing to do then!" Michael snapped, throwing his hands into the air. "We're all rubbish when there's nothing to do but sit with our feelings- especially grieving apparently- but there might be something we can do now! So, stop being selfish and just let us help you!"
Harry resisted the urge to punch him for calling him the selfish one. "What makes you so sure I even have a plan?"
"It's that face your making." Terry gestured at the entirety of his head. "That's your "I've got an idea, but it might get me killed" face. Last time I saw it you dived into Antarctic waters in the dead of winter to wake up a slumbering Sea Serpent, so I'm guessing you've got something equally as crazy cooked up now?"
Harry couldn't deny that he did. "Maybe."
"Harry, the four of us have been a team for a lot longer than we've been Aurors. At some point, Captain Solace became part of that." This was the first time Harry heard Anthony mention her name since she had died. "Now she's gone and there's nothing we can do about it, but we can make sure she didn't die in vain. We can finish her last mission. So yeah, we're with you, Harry. Whenever you need us."
Harry sighed and scratched his cheek, but only to hide the small smile he couldn't stop from forming.
By the time he lowered his hand, his mouth was in a straight line again. "Alright then. Let's finish this for Captain Solace."
Author's Note:
Chapter title is from a Shadowhunter short story. Not a very good one, but the title stuck with me even if the story didn't and I thought it worked well here.
This might sound a bit morbid, but I had fun coming up with funeral rites/traditions for wizards or Aurors in particular. It makes sense to me that a culture that separated themselves from Muggles almost seven hundred years ago would have developed their own beliefs about the afterlife.
However, the influx of Muggle-borns who have their own faiths and passed them on would keep it from becoming dominant, I think. So, only Aurors- who are an insular group with their own traditions and camaraderie would really follow it, and even then, not all of them. For example, Lily was an Auror, but as I've already said she wanted Harry be christened, though she too was given an Auror funeral to keep up the charade of her and James' sacrifice and because Petunia didn't even want to attend the funeral much less organise it.
The three components of a soul was an idea from Kane Chronicles. In that series, it's actually five components of a soul, but I reduced it to the three that are relevant to this story and tweaked it for Harry Potter style of magic.
For Harry and Susan's little heart-to-heart, they're basically the kind of people who get annoyed with happy, optimistic people. We all know the type.