CHAPTER TEN
Falling Without a Sword
Reinforcements arrived at their location after Michael cast the Anemoi spell.
A squad from the London Citadel, led by a regal wizard named Lieutenant Shacklebolt, quickly secured the area. Shacklebolt directed a pair of Sentries into turning back the bevvy of firefighters and police officers that had been attracted by the fire and sounds of violence coming from the premises. He ordered another group to battle the flames while he secured the captured Witch-Hunters himself, readying them for transport.
In no time at all, the Hunters were Portkeyed into holding where they would await trial before the British Wizengamont or the High Court of the Coalition (whichever claimed jurisdiction). The Muggle first responders were sent back so that they could be available for an incident they could useful in, and the destruction of their battle was swiftly repaired.
By the time this had been completed, Harry and the others managed to pick themselves up off the ground. They tried to leave, but Shacklebolt firmly ordered them to remain. "The Commander wants to speak with you all," he said grimly.
Anthony swore under his breath.
It took a further ten minutes for Commander Boot to arrive with the forensic team, and once he did, it was clear to all just how furious he was. "Leave!" He barked at Shacklebolt and his squad. They couldn't have looked happier to obey. Now that Dolohov's protections had been torn down, they were able to disapparate on the spot.
"I'm not going to ask why you would do this," he began, staring at them each in turn with his gaze lingering longer on Felicia than the rest of them. "That much is obvious, but what made you think you could get away with it?"
"Well, you see-" Terry began, only to be abruptly cut off.
"That was rhetorical, Trevor!" The Commander snapped, before inhaling sharply through his nose. "Whatever your reasons, whatever fleeting madness overtook you, it doesn't matter! Each of you now carries part of the responsibility." He paused before nodding to himself, seemingly having come to a resolution. "Right, whoever had the bright idea to do this needs to step forward now. You'll be discharged without honours."
Harry immediately took a step forward. It was simple in his mind, as it had been his idea to start with, and none of his friends would have gotten this far without him. Besides, while it would be a severe blow to lose both his desired career path and ultimate ambition of becoming Magister, he was the only one who could take the hit. Anthony and Michael needed to learn how to defend themselves from the Acolytes that were after them, and Terry came from a predominately Auror family. It would be embarrassing to all the Boots if he were forcibly discharged.
He deemed it an easy decision to make, but he quickly found that he wasn't the only one.
When the Commander's eyes failed to zero in on him, he glanced to his right and saw that Anthony, Michael and Terry had all moved forward a step in sync with him.
The sight first stunned Harry, but then he smiled. A warm sensation bloomed in his stomach.
The Commander's lips seemed to twitch upwards, but it must have been his imagination as he appeared angrier than ever. "So be it then. You'll share your punishment." Harry grimaced. While he'd been prepared to take the blow for the others, he wasn't looking forward to it.
From somewhere behind them, Felicia let out a heavy sigh. "Honestly, Robert, they're just trying to cover for me." The boys turned around to stare at her, incredulous. They weren't the only ones.
"Covering?" The Commander repeated slowly. "For you?" The doubt in his voice was unmistakable.
"Yes." Felicia nodded, not looking the least bit nervous about lying to the face of the highest-ranking officer in Britain. "I recruited them and convinced them that this was a real mission."
"You're not an Auror," the Commander pointed out. "You can't sanction any mission."
"I'm not an active Auror." Felicia corrected. "You only discharged me from fieldwork, remember?"
"You haven't worked in sixteen years!" The Commander finally lost his furious expression as it was overtaken by exasperation. Felicia opened her mouth for another counterargument, but the Commander waved her off. "I don't want to hear it," he snapped before pointing at the boys. "Go home," he ordered firmly. "Straight home."
"Yes, Commander." The Cadets gave him a half-hearted salute, unsure if they were even still Aurors.
When the Commander stalked off to where the forensics team was gathering evidence, alongside the remains of the two Death Eaters that had been killed, Harry turned back to Felicia. "You didn't have to do that," he told her, "but thanks."
For the first time, he saw her smile. "I owe you four. I might have stood a chance while I was still an active Auror, but I would've died twice over tonight without your help. So, thank you."
"You're very much welcome," Terry said happily. Then he frowned and asked, "Who are you again?"
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Harry landed Hugo II outside of Brightstone House hours after dinner.
Flying the bike at night was much less fun than doing it during the day. He'd almost crashed into the sea on the trip back to the Isle, so he felt lucky to make it back home dry and in one piece. He parked the motorbike in the garage before ducking into the kitchen for a snack. He paused when he heard laughter coming from the dining room.
"Is this what you lot do when I'm at school?" He demanded as soon as he walked in. Nicolas and his godparents were sitting before the remains of a delicious roast dinner, sipping glasses of elvish wine. He noted that they were almost done with a third bottle. "You should be eating in the Great Hall with the rest of us!" He pointed at Remus, who raised his hands in surrender.
"Sorry. I would have invited you, but I didn't want to take you away from your friends." That sounded like a plausible excuse but it was ruined by what his godmother said next.
"He's lying. He said he thinks it's more relaxing without you nipping at our ankles." Maia snickered at his scowl.
"Wait," Remus must have been more than a little tipsy, as he was only now noticing Harry's clothes. "Where are you coming from?"
"Err…" Harry searched the air around him for a good excuse but came up empty. He'd come home thinking that his only responsible guardian was at school. "You'll probably read about it in the papers tomorrow. I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise."
Maia let out a peal of laughter while Remus covered his eyes and groaned. "What did you do?"
"No, no, no! Don't ruin the surprise!" Maia pleaded, but Harry was more occupied with the figure that had left the room without a word in his direction.
"I'll tell you all about it later, okay?" Harry reassured Remus before ducking out of the room. As he approached the covered bridge that separated the two buildings of Brightstone House, he heard Maia shout after him.
"Wait, did you take your bike out without me?!"
Harry stepped outside before he had to answer. "Hey!" He called after Nicolas' retreating back. "Can we talk?"
"Out here?" Nicolas asked lightly. "It's too cold for conversation, no?"
"You can tough it out," Harry said teasingly, reflexively trying to sweep the last month under the rug. No, I have to make things right first, he scolded himself. "Listen, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for you, so I should never have-"
"Yes, you should have," Nicolas interrupted, "and you should have done much worse than merely give me the cold shoulder. It was pertinent information that I kept hidden from you for almost a year out of shame."
"Pride's a hard thing to shake off. I know that better than most." Harry shrugged. "Keeping that to yourself for so long must have been awkward."
"Oh, you have no idea," Nicolas sighed. "I only had Albus to talk to about it, and I loathe how sanctimonious he can-"
"Wait, wait, wait." Harry shook his head. "Dumbledore knows?"
"Why are you surprised?" Nicolas smiled at Harry's disbelieving expression. "He was there when you gave us the pieces to put together."
"Whatever," he sighed, annoyed with himself for forgetting. "Look, I just wanted to say that you're more than entitled to keep your secrets, but I like to be made aware of the ones that involve me."
Nicolas hummed. "And everything regarding Tom Riddle involves you?" It would have sounded sarcastic coming from anyone else, but he said it with such seriousness that Harry could only nod. "You are right. Follow me." He turned and continued walking to the library, leaving Harry to scurry after him.
They walked past the wall of books, went through the door that led deep beneath the surface and climbed down the many spiral steps before arriving at his laboratory. The lanterns were unlit, so while it was difficult to be certain in the gloom, Harry thought that it looked the same as it always did. The only difference was the faint red-gold glow emitted by Eos' plumage as she slept atop a gilded perch in the corner.
Without a word, Nicolas led him over to a well-made mahogany cabinet which, upon opening, revealed a shallow silvery bowl to his eyes. Its surface was as fluid as the mercury bone masks that Death Eaters wore. "What is it?" He asked lowly, so as not to disturb the resting Phoenix.
"A Pensieve," Nicolas explained as he pressed the tip of his wand against his temple. "Ingenieurs craft this particular Artifice for masters of the Mind Arts, as we alone can remove memories from our minds-" he drew his wand slowly back from his head, dragging along a wisp of white mist after it- "and observe them from a different perspective."
Harry stared at him. "What happened to memories not being real?"
"Hmm?" Nicolas asked innocently. "Oh, I was being facetious to prove a point. But truly," he continued loudly over Harry's exasperated groan, "memories can be clouded and changed depending on the owner and their experiences, so it's never entirely accurate. However, you can trust this memory."
"Why?"
"Because you were there for part of it." Nicolas tapped his wand against the side of the Pensieve, and a bright cloud of mist rose and illuminated the room in its white light. Eventually, the cloud took on the shape of two familiar figures that sat on either side of the headmaster's desk.
"I have a few private matters that I wish to discuss with Nicolas," Dumbledore said.
Harry's voice came distantly from somewhere out of sight. "Nic? Are you alright?"
Nicolas started before turning back to him with a smile. "Yes, I am alright. I just need to discuss some things with little Albus here."
Harry watched, fascinated, as the misty figures played out the rest of the events he wasn't there for: Nicolas' muted horror at finding out who his former apprentice had become, Dumbledore's probing questions, and then the most interesting part of all.
"A Pensieve within a Pensieve?" Harry asked when the image of Dumbledore revealed his own silvery bowl in the memory they were observing. Nicolas shushed him.
That was when Harry heard it. The words that had killed his entire family and set him on the path he'd been walking since the day he was born:
Conceived by those who dare defy Him,
born amidst the screams of the dying.
Named and delivered under a bleeding star,
never free while he bears the scar.
.
Serpent and Crow, forever entwined,
the folly of immortality left behind.
Orphaned boy, doomed by revenge,
his quest will spell the Dark Lord's end.
.
A quest beyond worlds, a voyage beyond death,
victory only assured with a final breath.
Disciples ascend or fall at their master's desire,
only sacrifice reveals the last survivor.
.
The white light slowly faded, leaving them in darkness once more. In the corner, Eos had awoken during the Oracle's prophecy, and now she joined her master in observing Harry closely. The silence seemed to stretch on forever.
Nicolas spoke first. "I can't imagine what you must be feeling."
"Feeling?" Harry repeated, his eyebrows raised. "About the same as I was an hour ago."
Nicolas looked dubious. "Is that so?"
Harry shrugged. "Well, I'm a little creeped out by the whole "serpent and crow" thing. How could the Oracle know what my Patronus would be when I was just a baby? That's spooky."
"Spooky?" Nicolas seemed stunned at Harry's blasé attitude. "That's your only concern? You're prophesied to be doomed!"
"So what?" Harry smiled a little. "That fortune doesn't change a thing. I chose this path long before any prophecy told me to. This fate belongs to me because I claimed it, not the other way around."
"This burden is too much for you. Too much for anyone." Nicolas shook his head. "I knew the two of you would be hunting each other, but I assumed anyone else had as good a chance to get the job done. But prophecy or not, neither of you will allow that to happen, will you?"
"No." Harry felt strange. Hearing that prophecy only made him feel more determined than ever. "I don't care if he's the most powerful Dark Sage in history. I will kill Voldemort. I'll save my parents from prisons that no one else has ever escaped. Then, before I'm done, I'll become a Sage so powerful that nothing will be impossible for me. I'll never allow what's happened to me and my friends happen to another generation of kids. Never again."
"Not even all the magic in the world can stop children from being orphaned. Neither can it force parents to love their offspring or treat them properly."
Harry could hear the truth in his words. But he thought about Anthony's poorly checked rage, Michael's issues with self-worth and Susan's lack of faith in anything besides herself. He thought about the small children Dolohov had experimented on and how they were likely dead now. Then he thought of Solace's creed and where it got her. A creed he had inherited.
Duty, Harry now knew, was a terrible burden.
"I know," he said aloud, "but I have to try." His smile grew wider but became a little forced. "Don't worry about me. I have no intention of dying. I was always set on pulling off the impossible, so what's defying fate compared to all that?"
Nicolas stared at him for a long while. After a few moments, Harry left him to it and walked over to the perch to stroke Eos' glorious feathers. Finally, he spoke. "I used to think there'd never be another like him."
"Like who? Tom?" Harry tried not to scowl as he said the name. They had only just made up after all.
"No." Nicolas' voice cracked. "Like my master. You sound just like him." Eos let out a mournful croon, and Nicolas glanced at her gratefully. "For so long, I worried about what this was going to do to you, but…" he stared at Harry as though he was seeing him clearly for the first time. "You truly are a remarkable young man, Harry."
Harry blinked as he slowly processed the words before smiling truly this time. For the first time, Nicolas had used his preferred name.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
The next day, Harry woke up bright and early at Brightstone House and got ready for school with his shoulders weighed down with dread. He didn't know how the teachers were going to react, and it unsettled him.
They had Charms first thing on Monday morning. When they walked into class, Professor Flitwick quietly told them to wait for him in his office when their classes were let out. The four boys were used to breaking the rules (which they did very often) and being punished when caught (which they were very rarely), but their Head of House was such a jovial fellow that hearing him speak in such a low, ominous tone left them anxious for the rest of the day.
"Let's just skip," Terry suggested as they walked up from Herbology to Flitwick's office.
"Don't be ridiculous," Anthony snapped. "If we skipped this meeting, he'll just ambush us in the common room."
Michael grimaced. "I'd rather get this over and done privately, thanks." The thought of their entire House witnessing their dressing down clearly didn't sit well with him.
Anthony ignored him. "It's bad enough that the Commander is keeping us in the dark about our punishment on his end of things. I don't want to keep worrying about what the teachers have planned for us as well."
He had a point, which was why they moved swiftly through the castle towards Flitwick's office, as though eager to receive their punishments.
"Sit," Flitwick said, indicating the sofa nearest the fireplace. Harry thought it was strange to have them sit in the cosy seating area instead of the hardbacked chairs before his desk that Maria and Eddie so often grumbled about.
Flitwick remained standing before the fire instead of joining them. "You skipped an entire day's worth of classes, left school premises without informing a Prefect or a member of staff and threw yourselves into battle against an entire cell of Witch-Hunters, a Death Eater and a former Acolyte of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Do I have that right?"
"Technically, only those first two things are against school rules," Terry helpfully pointed out, before being shushed by Anthony. "What? Why are you shushing me? I'm right! Fighting dark wizards isn't against school rules!"
Flitwick ignored him. "You will make sure to catch up on any classwork you missed, and you will not use your weekend endeavour as an excuse to not hand in homework. Is that clear?" He waited for them to nod before continuing. "Good. Now, you may return to the common room." He turned and walked back to his desk, leaving them all staring at his back.
Harry was unable to remain silent. "Is that all, professor?" He ignored Anthony and Michael's incredulous looks and Terry's obnoxious shushing. He was stunned that they would be allowed to get away with it.
Flitwick glanced back at him, and they could all see the small smile that graced his face when he looked at them. "Yes, Mr Potter, that is all." He waved towards the door. "Now, away with you all."
"What was that about?" Michael asked when they stepped into the corridor and closed the door behind them. "Do you want to get punished?" Harry merely shrugged, feeling strangely upset for reasons he didn't understand.
"You know," Anthony spoke to fill the awkward silence as they climbed the spiral staircase to the common room. "Something tells me Flitwick isn't all that upset with us."
"Course he isn't," Terry grinned. "Everyone thinks we're heroes now."
It was true. The prediction Harry had given his godparents was eerily accurate. Their names had been plastered on the front page of every Wizarding newspaper this morning, as the Auror Corps had been forced to release a statement on their actions yesterday.
Professor Flitwick wasn't the only person to show his approval. Teachers gave them secret smiles as they provided them with missed classwork and extended deadlines for homework, and the other students went out of their way to let them know how their popularity had skyrocketed. They came over to their usual spots in the Great Hall and common room to bother them with questions, gasping in awe with every exaggerated detail Terry and Michael provided them with.
Harry was mildly annoyed by this, especially when the two of them pointed out that it was usually his moody exterior that kept their schoolmates at bay. He was glad that Anthony seemed equally as unimpressed with this, especially when the Fourth Year Ravenclaw girls cornered them in the common room. The two of them had been catching up on their classwork when the girls suddenly arrived, sitting on the arms of their chairs and starting up a conversation as though they had been invited over.
It only got worse when Marietta Edgecombe slid down from the arm of Harry's chair to squeeze in beside him, so she was practically in his lap. In a display of poor timing, Lisa walked into the common room at that exact moment and blinked at the sight of them. Harry could only stare as she headed directly to the girls' dorms, straight-faced.
Worse of all, this only seemed to embolden Marietta, whose wandering hands bordered on indecency. Harry was quick to jump to his feet and head up to his dormitory, already exasperated with this latest boost to his fame.
Still, he deemed it far superior to what they had been gossiping about the week before. Being known for killing one of Voldemort's generals was better than being known for having a spat with your girlfriend in the common room.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Now that they were temporarily prohibited from Cadet duties, they had a lot more time for extracurriculars. Anthony returned to Chess Club, Terry to Advanced Potions, Michael to the Quidditch team and Harry to Art Club. This was good, as they needed to be distracted while Commander Boot decided the fates of their careers.
When classes let out on Friday, Professor Sinistra took their club to the Memphis Art Gallery. As a student of Hogwarts- with its abundance of paintings, statues, busts and tapestries- Harry thought he was used to Wizarding Art, but what he found in the gallery surprised him. These things were still in the gallery, of course, they were even in the majority, but there were stranger, more unique pieces scattered across the building.
There were paintings without canvases, colourful brushstrokes that hung in the air to make up beautiful images. There was a dark room with shifting white points, making up detailed moving constellations that didn't exist. But Harry's favourite was a room where the very walls were made of paper. Patrons were invited to draw any shape they wished on the section of paper closest to the doors and watch as it moved around the room, shifting into various colours and art styles.
Harry wished he had a camera. Maia would have wanted to see his drawing of her Animagus form suddenly turn three-dimensional and jump at his clubmates, startling them all.
He wasn't all that close to anyone in Art Club, but he got along well with the Watkins twins, Andrea and Gordon. He was friends with their eldest brother Richard, a former Marauder and current Auror Sentry at the London Citadel.
Harry and Andrea shared their opinions about the various works long enough for even shy Gordon to join in. Unlike Harry, he wasn't a fan of the animated room.
"It's too gimmicky," he complained. "There isn't any idea or feeling behind it. It's just an enchantment."
"You're saying it's not art?" Harry asked. When Gordon nodded, he hummed consideringly. "I wasn't thinking about that. I just thought it was cool."
"That means more than you might think," Andrea offered. "It's not the artist that puts value on their work, but the viewer." Harry smiled at her and she returned it. It was strange seeing her in such a good mood; she often wore a perpetual scowl on her face.
After the gallery served them dinner in the dining hall (or breakfast considering the Capital's timezone), they took a Portkey back to school a half hour before WOMBAT curfew. Sinistra clapped her hands together when everyone was settled back in the club room. "Alright! Did you all enjoy yourselves?" That began a lengthy discussion about the pieces they saw. When the five-minute warning for curfew chimed throughout the castle, the First and Second years began looking nervous.
"Okay, we can finish this next time!" Sinistra said loudly, bringing an end to the argument over the worth of tapestries. "I want to let you know the point of this trip before the Sentries and Prefects begin their rounds."
That got her some confused looks. "There was a point to this?" Colin Creevey asked.
Sinistra nodded. "The Memphis Art Gallery is holding a competition, open to anyone aged eighteen or under. They require a piece of work from you, and should you come in the Top 50, it will be displayed in a special exhibit the gallery is arranging for next March."
There was a flurry of excitement across the room. "Does that mean we get paid if someone buys our work?" Rhonda Fladbury asked.
Sinistra chuckled. "Yes, but if you rather I keep it..." She only laughed harder at the fervent denials thrown her way. After promising to provide more details later, she dismissed them before curfew. "Harry? Could you stay behind?" When everyone left and they were alone, she took the seat closest to him. "So?"
"I can't believe it's been eight months since I've been in here."
"Feels shorter?"
"Longer," he corrected. "Much longer. I can't believe everything that happened, only happened in less than a year."
Sinistra eyed him strangely. "How are you after...everything?"
"As well as I can be, I suppose."
"Oh, don't give me that," she tutted. "I asked how are you feeling?"
Harry paused, surprised. Though maybe he shouldn't be. Remus and Maia let him get away with most things, likely due to guilt over letting him down in the past. Nicolas was ancient and was from a time when kids Harry's age were treated like adults. Sinistra was neither an immortal alchemist, nor did she owe him anything. Well, anything more than what any teacher owed their students.
Harry decided to play it straight with her as long as she did the same with him. "What's going on with you and Remus?"
Sinistra looked surprised. "I don't think I should discuss that with a student."
"He's my godfather and one of my guardians. That ship has sailed."
"Well...we're seeing each other."
Harry was unimpressed. "Are you serious?"
"About him?"
"I meant with that answer, but sure."
"Yes," she said without hesitation. "I'm serious about every side of him." Harry took that to mean she was aware of Remus' monthly problem, but he didn't want to say it in case he was wrong.
"Okay," he smiled. "That's cool."
Sinistra didn't let him off the hook. "Your turn."
He sighed, hoping she had forgotten. "I think I'm okay. Or at least I'm as okay as I ever am. Here." He pulled out his sketchbook and turned to the most recent page. "It's just rough now, but I want to turn it into a painting."
Sinistra traced her eyes over the page, taking in the chain fence with links that were shiny and thick and others that were thin and rusted. "What does this mean to you?"
"At first I wanted it to be about what Captain Solace taught me and my friends-" he pointed to strong links at the centre of the page- "and how it connected us to each other and to her. Then I realised it doesn't just start and end with her. I'm linked to a lot of people, attached to them by the experiences we've shared and the things they've taught me. The good-" he gestured to a strong gleaming link near the centre that was Nicolas- "and the bad-" he pointed at the fractured link, jagged with sharp rust that was Voldemort- "and the ones I've left behind." He tapped the edge of the page, where the distant faded links, half-erased, represented the Dursleys.
Sinistra was silent for a minute. "There's a lot more bad here than good," she said finally. There was no judgement in her voice, only observation.
"But even without colour, the good stand out more, right?" Harry pointed out. "I want it to be the first thing the viewer notices. Just like I think of them first too."
Sinistra smiled. "If you can pull this off in an oil painting, I'm certain it'll be selected for the exhibit."
Harry smiled unsurely. "I'm not entering."
"What?" For the time she seemed upset. "Why not?"
"Because I'm famous. People will want to buy it or trash it just because I made it. They won't judge it by its own merits."
"Oh, is that all?" Sinistra sighed in relief. "That's fine. You can just use a pseudonym."
"Wait, that's allowed?"
"Yes!" She laughed. "Now all that's left is how you will bring this sketch to life. Did today's trip give you any ideas?"
Harry started to nod but then stopped and shook his head. "I'm not ready for any of that just yet. Last summer, I was hoping to practice more oil painting this year."
"We can do that," Sinistra said, before proceeding to make a work plan for him that would give him enough time to get his oil painting up to snuff while working around his busy schedule. When the five-minute warning for OWL curfew chimed, they quickly wrapped things up.
Just as he was about to leave the room, he glanced back at her. "We're having a family dinner next Sunday. You should come."
Sinistra looked up from where she was preparing her lesson plan for the Second Years' midnight Astronomy class. "Oh, I'm not sure if-"
"You said you were serious about him, right?" He waited for her to nod. "Then you should come."
She smiled. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me just yet," Harry smiled mischievously. "I'm not being nice. If you want things to work out between you and Remus, you need to get through Maia first."
"But I thought-" She paused. "Remus said she was kind."
"Only to people she likes. Fingers crossed that's you too, eh?" Harry left the room chuckling at her look of worry. He wondered how long it would take her to realise that Maia would be happy that Remus was seeing anyone at all.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
On Saturday, Harry, Anthony and Terry climbed up to the Ravenclaw stands to show their support for Michael. They found they weren't the only ones to do so when a sharp whistle pierced their ears from down by the barricade.
"GO, MICHAEL!" Padma shouted, clapping her hands as he flew a lap around the pitch with the rest of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.
Harry glanced warily at Su. She was sitting beside Padma, but she looked amicable about the whole thing and was speaking energetically to Amanda. As he was wondering how on earth Michael pulled that off, a familiar voice called his name.
"Harry! Over here!" Lisa waved him over to where she was sitting behind Isobel. She gestured to the seat beside her as though they hadn't spent a fortnight ignoring each other.
While Harry hadn't made any effort to avoid her since he had returned from their unsanctioned mission, he also hadn't made any effort to make up with her either. He had decided to wait for the perfect moment to break things off with her.
This was not that perfect moment.
Still, he couldn't ignore her, as the other Ravenclaw fans had turned to look at him when she called his name. It would be rather harsh to leave her hanging in front of their entire House. So, while Anthony and Terry sat beside Isobel in the row in front of him, he accepted the spot she saved for him and greeted her with a strained smile. "Hi."
"Hi." Lisa smiled coyly, reminding him of how cute she'd looked when they had kissed for the first time. "It's been a while."
"Yeah," Harry agreed lamely, even though they had seen each other in almost every class.
"I was hoping we could-" she started to say, only to be cut off by the boom of Professor Hooch's cannon, signalling the beginning of the match.
Lisa kept trying to speak to him, but Harry didn't give her a chance as he focused intensely on the game. "Michael and Fiona are playing wonderfully today, don't you think?" He asked before realising that giving her a chance to speak was a bad idea, so he continued hurriedly. "The Gryffindor Chasers are the best unit in the school right now, but they're still flying circles around them."
She tried to cut in. "That's nice, but-"
"Cho is a better Seeker than McLaggen," Harry spoke over her. "It really looks like things will go in our favour. Professor Flitwick will be pleased, but then again-" he was cut off by the hand that squeezed his leg.
"Stop," Lisa said firmly, ignoring the roar that exploded around them as their housemates celebrated a goal. "I want to speak to you, but not here. Tomorrow, okay? Just you and me?"
The decisive look in her eyes made him swallow thickly, but Harry couldn't understand why. His friends might have teased him about Sara, but he'd told no one the truth about what had happened between them, so he was at a loss for what Lisa was so serious about.
Still, tomorrow was as good a day to break up with her as any. "All right," he nodded, "tomorrow." He was only further confused by how she smiled at him then, before intertwining her fingers with his own.
Harry did his best to distract himself at the party in the common room that night, not wanting to be a downer for Michael's first victory of the year. He forced himself to have a good time until he was having a good time. He and his housemates celebrated until the early hours of Sunday morning before Professor Flitwick arrived to chase them away to their dormitories.
As he and his mates reached the tower's highest floor, Harry's mind found its way back to his dilemma, and he was just tired enough to want to get it all off his chest. "My room," he told the others, "I need some advice." He could see them exchange looks in his peripheral, but they seemed too intrigued to say no.
When they had all slumped down around the seating area of his dorm, Harry recounted what had taken place inside the Bridger home last Saturday, keeping the story short and vague despite Michael's demands for excessive detail. When he was finished, he sank lower into his armchair and waited for their verdict.
It wasn't what he had expected.
"I wouldn't have thought she was your type," Anthony said.
Harry blinked. "What?"
"The Witch-Hunter girl," Anthony said slowly, as though Harry had somehow forgotten. "She's blonde."
"So what?" Harry didn't get what that had to do with anything.
Anthony shrugged. "Well, you're with Lisa, who has dark hair, you fancied Maria, and she has dark hair-" Harry sputtered, but Anthony ignored him- "Although Eliza Hawthorn is a blonde too, and we all know you fancy her."
"I do not-!" Harry began hotly, only to be interrupted by Terry.
"It's not the hair. Otherwise, Harry would probably have a thing for Michael, too." Terry teased.
"Oh?" Michael asked before waggling his eyebrows at Harry.
"Blonde bimbos aren't my type," Harry said sourly. Michael put a hand over his heart in response.
Terry continued speaking to Anthony as though they hadn't said anything. "Our boy likes a bit of an edge." He began counting on his fingers as he started listing off names. "Hawthorn is terrifying, Maria is a menace to every staff member, and Lisa is a heartless monster."
"Seriously, what is it with you and her?" Harry asked.
Terry scowled. "She's always just rubbed me the wrong way."
Anthony snorted. "I suppose it has nothing to do with the time she-"
"Nothing at all," Terry said sharply. Harry glanced at Michael, who looked equally confused about what the brothers were alluding to.
"Look, forget about "my type" or whatever," Harry said, wanting to get back to the problem at hand. "What am I supposed to do?" He, Anthony and Terry then turned to Michael, who looked puzzled as to why.
"Why are you lot looking at me?" He demanded.
Harry stated what should have been obvious to him. "Out of all of us, you know the most about girls." It was the truth. Whatever was going on between Anthony and Luna had yet to be solidified, and Harry had a sneaking suspicion that Terry wasn't the least bit interested in anything amorous at all. This made Michael the expert on girls by default.
"What?!" Evidently, he didn't share that opinion.
"You dumped Su for Padma, and somehow everyone is still getting along great," Anthony pointed out. "That's crazy."
Harry nodded. "Like you're capable of magic or something." Terry snorted.
Michael's surprise slowly faded, only to be replaced by delight at their poorly hidden awe. He made a show of stroking his chin as he pondered Harry's problem. "Well…I think you should be upfront with her."
Harry and Anthony slumped back into their seats as Terry cracked up laughing. "Got anything else?" Harry asked.
Michael looked deflated. "Just be yourself?" He suggested weakly, and when Harry shook his head, he gave him a helpless shrug. "Then no."
"Wait, wait, wait," Anthony leaned in towards Michael again. "So, Padma and Su aren't getting along because of you? You didn't do anything to smooth things over between them?"
"No," Michael admitted. "Su dumped me before we even left to go find Dolohov, and Padma asked me out when we got back."
"So, they're just passing you around between themselves?" Harry asked.
"Basically."
"I can imagine worse fates." Anthony sighed enviously. Harry laughed.
Terry tutted. "We were going to erect a statue of you in the Entrance Courtyard before, but now-" he gave a disappointed shake of the head- "you have failed our expectations, Michael."
"Oh, piss off," he chuckled. "You're all just jealous." He gave them each a rude hand gesture in turn.
The teasing continued for some time after that until they all crashed on various pieces of furniture in Harry's room, too tired to make the short trips to their own dorms.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
As much as he dreaded it, Sunday eventually arrived.
"Where are we going?" Harry asked, keeping pace with Lisa's quick steps. They had met in the common room a few hours before dinner, but instead of remaining there to talk, she had asked him to follow her outside.
Lisa smiled at him. "I have a surprise for you."
"You do?" He hoped he didn't sound as nervous as he felt.
"Yeah." She turned back to face the direction they were walking in as they approached the Grand Staircase. "You were right before; it is always me kicking up a fuss and leaving you to try to make things right."
"Well, that's because I'm always in the wrong when it comes to you." It was easier for him to admit than he would have expected.
"Not always. Just most of the time," Lisa chuckled. "But seriously, why can't we do things the other way around for once? Besides, it is Valentine's Day."
Harry stared at the side of her head in dull horror as they descended the stairs to the Entrance Hall. He couldn't believe he'd been cold enough to forget Valentine's Day after the mishap with her birthday. He couldn't believe he was going to have to be cold enough to break things off with her on Valentine's Day. He really was bad at this whole boyfriend thing.
"I thought we could go to the Valentine's Day Ball along with everyone else," Harry finally got out in a croaked voice. "Our House is organising it this year, right? And we're Third Years now. We don't have to go with the younger kids anymore." It was a lie, as he didn't even have any formal wear that would fit him.
"No, I've got something better in mind for us." Lisa took his arm as they stepped outside and began the long walk to Hogsmeade. It was late in the day, so the carriages were all either in Hogsmeade already or stored away by Hagrid.
Harry was uncomfortable with the silence that had fallen over them as they strolled down the long path out of the school and into the village, but Lisa seemed wholly at ease. She was humming the tune of a familiar song as they walked, and while he usually found this adorable, it now only increased his tension. Unable to take it anymore, he abruptly said, "I could apparate us, you know. If I knew where we're going."
"It's a surprise," Lisa stressed as she extended her wand into the path, flagging down The Knight Bus. When they climbed onboard, she gave the conductor an address somewhere in Manchester, someplace he'd never even heard of. It made Harry wonder if he was being led into another ambush.
"It's a bit busy this evening, so it might take a while to get there." The Conductor warned them as they took their seats.
"We don't mind," Lisa chirped as she squeezed into the same chair Harry was sitting in. "We've got plenty of time."
Oh great, Harry silently groaned. Drag out the agony, why don't you?
The bus ride somehow took even longer than he dreaded, but it might have just been his perception of things, as Lisa made no complaint. When they disembarked, Harry immediately spotted the dwindling queue in front of the arena they had arrived at, which had an electric bulletin board with tonight's event flashing for everyone to see.
He recognised the band name as one of his old favourites from the tapes he'd nicked from Dudley growing up. Harry turned to Lisa, impressed. "You have tickets?"
She looked awkward. "Er…no. But we can sneak in, can't we?" Harry shrugged. It was a bit of a legal grey area for sorcerers. "Anthony told me what your favourite Muggle band was, so I found out where they were playing. There wasn't enough time to buy tickets-" She sounded increasingly upset as she went along, so Harry quickly interrupted her.
"You're right. We can sneak in." He smiled reassuringly at her. "I'll have to disillusion us, though. Odds are at least a few of the Muggles here can see through the Veil." He relaxed when she seemed pleased that her thoughtfulness wasn't going to waste.
Together, the two walked past the queue and entered the arena. Not having seats and not wanting to join the mass of bodies at the front and centre, they worked their way upwards until they found a private box. They were a little late, and the band had already started one of their more famous love songs.
"Fancy," Lisa said, looking at the comfortable seats.
"Yeah," Harry muttered, distracted as he cast a Muggle-Repelling Charm. He felt bad about stealing someone's box, but they really needed privacy.
"Not exactly the view I had expected, but I suppose I'll have to make do." Smiling, she wrapped her arms around one of his and put her chin on his shoulder.
"Your view will be different when your band starts performing," Harry pointed out. "No point getting used to the view from the crowd's perspective anyway."
Lisa grinned. "That's what I wanted to tell you! We think we've got a couple of gigs lined up for this summer!"
Harry smiled sincerely for the first time all day. "Really? That's terrific! I know how much you wanted that." Her smile somehow got even wider, but it dropped when she leaned her face close to his, and he quickly pulled away. "I need to tell you something." When she nodded confusedly, Harry waved his wand around them. "Inetrabiles!" The air around them seemed the thicken, and the music and cheers from the crowd faded away.
There was no point in beating around the bush, so Harry just came out and said it. "I kissed someone else."
Lisa stilled. "What?"
Harry explained everything, from their first mission and its results, to how he'd used his connection with Sara to find the Witch-Hunters and Dolohov. When he was done, he waited for Lisa to say something, as she'd been deathly silent the entire time he was talking.
Finally, she spoke. "So, it was for a mission?"
Harry wanted to admit that it was a little more than that, that he had wanted to kiss Sara at that moment, but doing so felt pointlessly cruel. "Yes."
"Alright then." Lisa shrugged.
Harry stared. "What?"
"Look, I'm not happy about it, but I've read the papers. You did what you had to do to stop one of You-Know-Who's Acolytes from doing something bad. It makes sense." She said this matter-of-factly, as though it was all just business. "Is this what you've been so worried about?"
Harry felt mortified. "You noticed?"
Lisa nodded. "It would've been hard not to. You get all tense whenever I try and touch you." She smiled at the expression on his face. "Now that I know, will you calm down? I was looking forward to this." She indicated the stage beneath them, and Harry lowered the Imperturbable Charm around them as the slow love song ended.
When Lisa leaned in for a kiss this time, he kissed her back, all while a part of him wondered why he felt so conflicted. He understood why he felt confused, as Lisa's reaction was the opposite of what he'd expected, but why did he feel disappointed on top of that?
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Just like a few weeks ago, a summons from the London Citadel arrived at Hogwarts, but this time it was only for Harry.
As he'd been instructed to arrive as soon as possible- and to do so without informing his squadmates of where he was going- he was a little concerned that it might have been an ambush from one of the many people who wanted him dead. Still, a summons from a superior officer wasn't something one could simply ignore, so he set out while following the instructions to the letter.
As such, he was a little surprised to arrive at the Citadel completely unscathed, having been sure that an attack would have been waiting for him when he arrived at the Apparition Point. The Sentries on duty told him to wait outside the Commander's office without knocking, and when he asked for further details, they admitted that was all they'd been told.
So, that was where Harry spent his morning, anxiously parked outside the Commander's office and silently debating whether he should conjure a seat for himself. Or would that count as insubordination? He wondered. He was nervous about this meeting, of course, but strangely relieved that he'd been called here alone. The idea of his friends being punished for going along with his plan didn't sit well with him.
Around the four-hour mark, Cedric and Eliza strolled into the corridor on their way to evidence lockup. "You alright, mate?" The older boy asked, oblivious to Harry's clear discomfort.
"You can see that I'm not." Harry grit out. He moved from one foot to the other to keep his legs from getting stiff.
It was only then that Cedric seemed to see his awkward movements. "Sorry, I'm so used to troublemakers being kept in limbo that I didn't even register you moving like a duck." He smirked. "Though it usually only happens at Hogwarts."
"How'd you kill an Acolyte?" Eliza abruptly asked.
Harry stared at her, wondering if she was asking for tips due to her sister. "You'll find out when we're training for the Triwizard, won't you?"
"Someone's confident." Cedric whistled. "Qualifying rounds are in two months, and you're not even in the school's top ten."
"I've been busy," Harry snapped, not liking that a friend was doubting him. Why would anyone else take him seriously if his mates won't? "Besides, you'll change your tune when I beat the pair of you, and I'm the one leading our school's Triumvirate."
Cedric opened his mouth to snap back, but Eliza cut in. "Don't slow us down." She turned and continued to evidence lockup, leaving the two boys to stare after her.
"Huh." Cedric gave Harry a once over as though reassessing him. "She doesn't compliment anyone."
"That was a compliment?"
"It was by her standards," Cedric hurried after his sister, waving over his shoulder as he did so. "See you later!"
Harry was still trying to figure out how nasty Eliza's insults must be if that was what she thought a compliment sounded like when the Commander's door finally opened. The large man had circles beneath his eyes and was hunched over as though weighed down by exhaustion, but he smiled when he saw Harry.
"He's waiting for you," he said before stepping out into the corridor and waving Harry inside. Feeling more than a little confused- he'd expected this meeting to be with Commander Boot- Harry stepped into the office, and the door closed itself behind him.
He felt his stomach drop when he spotted Lord Akingbade sitting in one of the two armchairs before the fireplace. His legendary red cloak was folded across his lap, and he looked as tired as the Commander.
"Magister." Harry attempted to salute, but Akingbade waved him down.
"None of that now," he said tiredly. "This is not official business." He pointed at the seat before him, and Harry obediently took it. "I believe you and your friends have a right to know that the investigation behind the Acacia Asylum mission and its…fallout-" he said the word distastefully- "has now been closed. We have accepted Felicia Solace's version of events as the official truth. To cover for the unsanctioned nature of your mission, she has been reinstated as an Auror Captain and been given leadership over your Cadet Squad."
Harry stared. "Is that it?" This felt far too easy in his mind.
"Well, that depends. Have you and your friends spoken about the Prometheus Artifice to anyone else?" Harry shook his head. "Have you admitted that the mission was unsanctioned?" Again, Harry shook his head. "Then I see no reason why we cannot sweep this under the rug. However," he leaned forward then, and while no Mana leaked from his body, a sudden oppressive weight filled the room. While it carried none of the same maliciousness, it had the same impressive focus that Elissa Corner had exuded last year in Camden. But instead of violent cruelty, this aura only tasted of frustration and disappointment. His Shadow, Harry realised. "I want you to know why I have done this."
"Your father was the last apprentice I took on. Did you know that?" Akingbade asked. His light, inquiring tone was in stark contrast with the aura he was putting out into the rapidly shrinking room.
"Yes," Harry said calmly. He focused on his Occlumency to keep his body from instinctively panicking.
"I want you to know that I am only keeping you as a Cadet for the sake of his memory and nothing else," Akingbade said coldly. "You took matters into your own hands, led your squadmates into a fight you knew you couldn't win, and ruined weeks of investigative work!" His voice had risen with every word before ending in a shout.
Despite having a Sage exhibit his fury right in front of him, Harry was unable to squash his curiosity. "What investigation?"
"Did you really think we were unable to find Dolohov?" Akingbade asked. "We had plans for him!"
Harry clenched his fists. "General Hartmann didn't tell us anything about an investigation!"
"I wasn't aware I had to run my decisions by you, Harry," Akingbade said dryly. "We had plans for the Prometheus Artifice that go well above the head of a Cadet."
Harry shot to his feet. "You wouldn't say that if you had seen what it took to make! Or even to work!" He shook his head. "How many people, how many children had to die to make it operational? I'm glad we destroyed it."
Akingbade looked as if he was about to snap back at him, but then he visibly reeled himself back. "One day," he began quietly, "you will learn the cost of leadership. The burden of it. It is inevitable for one such as you. When that day comes you will understand my decision, and agree it was for the best."
"I wouldn't count on it."
"You are still a boy. You believe every great leader should possess integrity and nobility to inspire his followers. You think it means barking orders at subordinates and watching them obey out of honour and respect. It is not." He held Harry's eyes as he spoke. "It is deceit masked as statesmanship. It is fear of reprisal disguised as loyalty. It means taking on the hardest, cruellest, most terrible choices onto yourself, so the ones you're responsible for never have to."
"Is this a lesson you taught my father?" Harry asked coolly.
Akingbade reared back as if struck. It took him a moment to speak again. "I have swept your misdemeanour under the rug this time but should you and your squadmates put a single toe out of line again, you will be discharged without honours. Is that clear?"
Harry glared at him. "Yes."
"Good. Then get out of my sight." Akingbade turned to stand directly before the fire and away from Harry.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Harry had decided to go home after his meeting, too angry to return to school. If his friends saw him like this, they would wonder what angered him, and he would most likely spill the beans in his frustration.
He knew that Brightstone House would be empty. Remus was busy teaching, Nicolas was following another trail that might lead to the destruction of the Philosopher's Stone, and Maia was having lunch with her old friends.
Or at least she was supposed to.
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked as he walked into the kitchen.
Maia glanced up from her book, pausing the stirring of her tea as she did so. "I think I'm the one who's supposed to say that to you." She frowned at him as she put her book down. "Why aren't you in class?" Harry knew he must be pushing it if even Maia was annoyed at his continued truancy.
Harry took the seat across from hers and caught her up on everything that had been going on, from the details to the mission he had skimped on when his godparents had cornered him about it last week, to the meeting he had just come from.
"I can't believe that you would've walked into another ambush," Maia shook her head in disbelief. "Willingly this time. How many does that make?"
Harry grimaced. "I hate to admit it, but I've lost count."
Maia smiled at him from over her teacup. "You're angry." She observed. "Why? You got away with it. You should be over the moon."
Harry shrugged helplessly. "I don't think I wanted to get away with anything." He scratched his head. "I don't know."
"You haven't been going to therapy." It was a statement, not a question.
"No," Harry admitted. He had hardly thought of Healer Swann since their last meeting.
Maia sighed and lowered her cup back to the table. "You know, I still find being around other people quite difficult." Harry stared. The moments when Maia admitted to any vulnerability were few and far between. "I spent so many years on my own that even being touched unnerves me sometimes. I get angry at myself for being so weak, and then I get even angrier at Charlotte and Armstrong for killing the woman I used to be." Her hand clenched around the teacup so tightly that Harry was sure it was about to break. "I have to motivate myself just to go out into public."
Slowly, Harry reached across the table and, when she didn't flinch away, took her hand in his. Maia smiled softly at him and squeezed his hand. "Remus used to go with me in the beginning, you know. Some people like to go alone, but others need the company."
"But does therapy really help?" Harry asked. "It's just talking."
"I'm not sure if it works for everyone, but it did for me." Maia shrugged. "The one thing I know for sure is that you won't get anything out of it without putting in a little effort."
Harry let out a long sigh before smiling at her. "I'll go with you to lunch if you come with me to Healer Swann's?"
"Are you sure? It'll just be old people catching up and reminiscing about the good old days."
"I'll distract myself by racking up an enormous bill. Is that good with you?"
Maia smiled. "That's good with me."
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
"I didn't expect to see you again," Healer Swann greeted Harry as he waved him inside. "Not now that it is no longer mandatory for you." He appeared neither pleased nor displeased to see Harry again.
"I've always been a contrarian." Harry joked before realising that this might not be the environment for it. He shrugged and answered sincerely as he took the available seat. "Someone I respect suggested that it would be beneficial for me to come back."
Swann hummed as he sat down. "Ms Black?" He guessed.
Harry nodded. "So, where do we start?"
"Why don't we begin with something simple?" Swann suggested. "What's been on your mind lately? It must be substantial to make you want to come back here."
Harry sighed and- for what felt like the hundredth time- told someone about the events of the last six months. He began with Captain Solace and her harsh training, the things she had taught them, the missions they had gone on and the meeting he had with the Magister. He even brought up the goings-on between himself and Lisa, as that had been bothering him too.
He spared no technical detail, more afraid of his internal conflict than he was of giving Swann a window into his mind. Harry could only hope that the confidentiality spells that bound him were airtight.
Swann only allowed a brief pause from the moment Harry had stopped speaking, as though eager to jump on something he noticed. "You brought up the responses you received to your wrongdoing several times," he noted. "From your mentor, your teachers, your superior officers, and even your girlfriend. You seem fixated on how easily you've been forgiven."
Harry shifted uneasily. "A while back, I was a bad friend. Eventually, I made up for it by apologising and showing them that I was there for them when it counted." He shrugged. "Now, I keep trying to do the same thing- the right thing- and admit to my wrongs and take responsibility, but it feels like no one wants to hear it."
"Have you considered things from their perspective?" Swann asked. "Perhaps they too feel guilty over something, and forgiving you is their way of feeling better about themselves."
"Like what?" Harry demanded. "What would they have to feel guilty about?" Nicolas, Flitwick and Akingbade felt obvious to him, as they each felt responsible for him in their own way, but what did Lisa have to be guilty over?
"I wouldn't know, but you might." Swann pointed out. "You have a place in these people's lives. They may not even feel guilty about anything but are simply willing to forgive you because they care about you."
"This is starting to feel like guesswork," Harry complained.
For the first time, Swann smiled. "It can feel that way, yes." His smile disappeared when he abruptly asked, "Is it alright if we move away from others and focus on you? You brought up your thoughts on Captain Solace's death."
Harry blinked, not expecting such a turn. "Yes, I did."
"I don't think you care about being forgiven so easily for the bad things you've done, but instead, you're trying to get punished for the thing you didn't do. The one thing no one blames you for."
Harry's breath caught. "I never said-"
"You skipped over many finer details, but you described every part of your failure to protect Dolohov's hostages during the Acacia Asylum mission." Swann shook his head. "It's obvious that moment has been replaying in your mind."
"If I had saved them, she wouldn't have left herself vulnerable to Dolohov's killing stroke." Harry leaned back in his chair. "But Dolohov is dead now, and the mission is complete, so why do I still feel terrible?"
"It sounds as though you're still grieving," Swann said. "You didn't know her for very long, but it's plain to see that Captain Solace had an immense impact on your life and development." He peered at Harry from over his glasses. "Time seems much longer than it truly is at your age, and strong bonds can be quickly forged in the briefest windows of time."
"But what do I do?" Harry asked a little desperately. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life looking for some kind of karmic retribution.
"When saying goodbye to someone you care about, it often helps to make peace with their memory," Swann said simply, "in a way that only you can know how."
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
"What are we doing back here?" Michael asked, head turning this way and that to observe the field they had landed in. "I thought we were going camping?"
Wanting to keep their destination a surprise, Harry had Side-Along Apparated his friends all at once. But they didn't seem impressed with his chosen destination.
Their old training grounds had been built specifically for them by Captain Solace, and when their training was completed, she had returned the area to its original natural state. However, despite the lack of buildings and other landmarks- like the obstacle course or the wooden huts- the boys had spent a hundred days here, so they could immediately recognise it by the landscape alone.
Harry shrugged off the bag that was carrying all their supplies for the night. "I thought we could have a private, proper goodbye for Captain Solace."
"Okay," Terry said dubiously. "Then why is she here?" He pointed behind Harry, where a wary Felicia was striding across the open field towards them.
"I invited her," Harry said quickly, hoping to get the tension out of the way before she was within earshot.
"I got your letter!" She called as she neared, now close enough for Harry to see her frown. "Your owl is rather temperamental."
Harry winced, too afraid to ask what Argos had gone and done now. "Sorry."
"What is this place?" Felicia asked as she glanced around. "What are we doing here?"
Harry repeated what he'd just told his friends a minute ago. When Felicia's face tightened at the mention of her sister, he quickly added, "But it's also a way for us to get to know our new Squad Captain."
"Our new what?" Anthony gasped. Michael and Terry made similar noises of surprise.
"How'd you know that already?" Felicia demanded. "The Commander said he wouldn't inform you until I passed his personal training exam."
Harry smirked, enjoying the moment of superiority he had over all of them. "I'll only tell you when we get everything set up." It still got dark relatively early these days, and night might have fallen by the time they had finished talking.
Together, they erected the tent they had found in the Room of Requirement, started a fire and passed around the food and drinks the Automatons had given them. After they had all taken their conjured and transfigured seats around the fire, everyone turned to Harry with expectant gazes.
"Well?" Terry demanded impatiently.
Harry sighed and lowered the pineapple soda he'd been about to take a sip from. He explained his summons to the Citadel, his meeting with Akingbade and the official story they all needed to follow. His friends focused on different things.
"The Magister threatened us?" Anthony asked, fearful.
"Lord Akingbade knows who I am?" Michael said, awed.
"You've been keeping this from us all week?" Terry snapped, insulted.
Harry answered their questions in the order they came in.
"He only threatened to give us the sack if we ever broke the rules again," he told a relieved Anthony.
"He didn't mention you by name," he informed a disappointed Michael.
"There was never a good time to bring it up before now," he said to an annoyed Terry.
"I'm glad your careers aren't being cut short," Felicia informed them, and the boys jumped as they had forgotten she was even here. "But you promised to tell me something," she said to Harry. "When we were approaching Dolohov's location," she added, as though he could have forgotten.
Harry had planned to tell her when they found a moment alone, but if she didn't mind the others listening in, then now was as good a time as any.
"Tell Felicia I'm sorry," Harry began. "I didn't want to leave her behind like this." Felicia's expression turned into a thin mask of glass: utterly still, but a firm tap would have shattered her. "This is who I am. I lived being who I am." He paused. "That's what she said. Word for word."
There was a very long moment of silence as she ruminated on her sister's words. Then Terry tentatively asked, "What does it mean?" Felicia jerked as though it were her turn to forget who was present. "Ow!" Terry cried when Anthony punched his arm. "What was that for?!"
"Why are you so rude?" Anthony hissed.
Felicia didn't seem to mind. "Alex had a bad go of things growing up." She proceeded to explain how she and her sister had lost their parents in the field and how Alexandra's first Cadet Squad had been killed by Dolohov, leaving her as the sole survivor.
"That was why she was so hard on us," Anthony realised quietly. "She wanted to stop us from repeating her history."
"Not one more," Michael said. "Remember what she said to Dolohov? Not one more. I thought she was talking about that little boy, but now…."
"She must have promised herself to never let what happened to her squad, happen again." Terry pointed out.
"If even a single person is harmed after we've arrived on the scene, then we've failed." Harry nodded to show that he agreed with them. "She was trying to pass that on to us."
"She lived up to her vow," Anthony said, his voice hoarse. "More than lived up to it."
There was a beat of silence, and Harry thought that now would be the best time to recite the words he had prepared earlier. "The greatest teachers lead their students down the correct path. Solace went a step beyond and taught us how to walk it ourselves. She gave us duty and discipline, and taught us that they were strengths, not burdens." He raised his drink. "To Captain Alexandra Solace. We were far better off having known you."
Terry, Anthony and Michael did the same. "To the Captain." They intoned before sipping their drinks.
Felicia stared at them all for a long moment, her eyes shining in the firelight. Then she blinked back her tears and raised her drink too. "To Alexandra. I am humbled by the woman you became."
Author's Notes:
I said I'd get this chapter out in September. I was only off by four months.
Seriously though, both real life and the story itself got in the way. The rest of book three is set up for book four and that is a beast to even plan for much less write. Still, I have the time to post chapters more regularly now, so expect more frequent updates.