Happy New Year!
I'm not going to be making any resolutions, as I plan on being the same sarcastic sass master I was the year before...Maybe I'll improve and gain a new level in sass! Muahahahaha!
Here's to hoping 2023 sucks a little less than the last couple of years!
Last time...
...
After Umbridge had stormed off…
"Hera Potter," Firenze greeted, nodding to her. "It is good to see you fair well."
"It's good to see you too, Firenze." Hera nodded, greeting him in turn, with an easy smile. "How's Mars? Still shining?"
"Brighter than ever." Firenze replied, now seemingly amused by her.
"We'll get there." Hera stated, sounding almost as if she were trying to comfort him. Her eyes darted over to Albus, who had to inwardly admit to feeling someone bemused by all of this. "I hope you know you're insane. That woman insults Professor Flitwick and myself under her breath whenever she thinks we can not hear her. What do you think her reaction will be to Firenze once she gets over the shock of what you've done?"
"Don't tell me you don't approve." Albus remarked, smiling just a touch at her confusion. "You have been steadily getting on Dolores' nerves since her placement here. The prank was simply too good to pass up. You see, I worked out just before school started back what she intended to do, and it took quite a bit of fancy footwork to get the herd to agree to my idea. They do not normally help humans, you understand."
"Then why did they…" Hera huffed, turning her attention to Firenze. "Why would your herd agree to this? Why would you?"
"Our help was not offered lightly." Firenze acknowledged. "Your actions are seen across time, written in the stars. The herd sees and wishes to help you, Hera Potter. Do not take such a thing lightly."
Chapter 105
~You're running out of time. Do something about her, or I will.~
Amelia Bones read the words, and was understandably concerned. They'd been doing well, gathering evidence, making a solid case. Granted, she hadn't checked in with Cornelius in a little while. He'd been trying to stave off Dolores Umbridge by giving her the least of her requests whenever she wrote to them about how she was 'reforming' Hogwarts, but it was clear from Potter's correspondence that something had happened. What that something could be wasn't something Amelia could even begin to guess, but she had no doubt as to the seriousness of Potter's words. If they couldn't bring Dolores Umbridge down soon, Potter would end up taking care of the problem herself. Rite of Conquest was an old law, but one still respected and upheld; something Amelia had no doubt that Potter would end up winning, as people seemed bound and determined to try their luck against the Girl-Who-Lived.
When Hera went to sleep that night, she'd not expected to find herself in Frigga's chambers, yet she was not overly surprised either. She'd been due for a visit for some time, and was looking forward to seeing the woman again. Yet the moment her eyes landed on Frigga, Hera knew something was wrong. There was something in her posture that screamed tense, not that the woman let it show when she saw her. Frigga's face lit up instantly, overjoyed to see her, and drew her into a hug.
"It is good to see you, Hera." Frigga greeted, once she'd released Hera from the hug. "It's been some time, even for me."
"What's wrong?" Hera asked, frowning at what she saw; Frigga was deflecting, something she didn't normally do.
"I…We should not be speaking of such things, not when I know not how long you shall remain. I wish to hear how you've been." Frigga insisted, but saw that Hera was not to be persuaded. "You can not help me, Hera."
Hera folded her arms, bound and determined now. "I'll be the judge of that."
Seeing as how Hera wasn't going to budge, and Frigga didn't want to fight, the woman began telling her tale. Boosted by the success of her friend's venture, Frigga sought to enact her own plan. While admittedly less blood filled, Frigga's wish to visit her brother was by no means less daunting. She actually managed it quite a few times before Oðin started getting 'concerned'. Her mistake had been in taking their children with her, so that they may more informally get to bond with their uncle.
While Loki had bonded with Freyr, and had taken to the culture like a duck to water, Thor had not. The boy didn't understand why Freyr did not like his father, and became cross whenever his uncle did not glory in all things Ásgarðr the way Thor had grown up hearing from those around him. Freyr did not value brute strength the same way, and so he often showed Loki favouritism. Thor, not being used to being ignored in favour of his brother, had taken offence to that. Hera could see the inevitable actions that followed, and groaned when she was proven right.
Thor had complained to his father upon their return, as any child would have when they hadn't had a good time, thinking nothing of it. When asked, Loki had tried to explain that Freyr merely attempted to teach Thor the value of patience, something they had all struggled with. He'd praised the kingdom's many libraries, as well as his time with his uncle, and had been happy for the experience. Thor had argued that his uncle had slighted him, citing the many times Freyr had seemed disapproving when Thor proudly proclaimed himself a warrior of Ásgarðr. Oðin had responded in a way Frigga had not immediately anticipated; rewarding Loki for his diplomatic ventures while also praising Thor for his pride in his realm.
At the moment, Loki was on Álfheimr. Oðin had granted him his wish to study magic with the elves there, but before that he'd done something incredibly cruel; not that Loki knew that yet, of course. He'd shown his sons the Casket of Ancient Winters, told the story of the terrible war the Jötunheimr, telling both his sons they were born to be king. Thor had bragged about it immediately to any who would listen Loki, having no context, wouldn't know how cruel those words and actions would be till much later. Hera, on the other hand, knew all too well the consequences of their actions.
"Hera…" Frigga trailed off, uncertain how to continue, but Hera just shook her head.
"I…I feel as if I should apologize. If it hadn't been for me-"
"Something like this would have happened regardless, Hera. Think nothing of it. I will find a way to win my battle, as Queen Hera has won hers. Now, enough of my troubles. What of yours?" Frigga deflected easily, with a kind patience that told Hera she was not about to give up now. "What has happened with you since we last spoke?"
"Oh…I don't suppose you heard the stunt Zeus tried to pull after Queen Hera let him have it, did you?" Hera hedged. The light in Frigga's eyes told her that she very much wished to hear that story, whether she'd heard it already or not. "Oh, you're going to love this."
Hera told the story with relish. Frigga was not pleased to hear of Sif's continued insults to Loki, but she was thrilled that Hera had obtained shield-brethren of her own. She'd had to pause the story in order to show the woman the mark, but Hera couldn't deny that it warmed her heart to see Frigga regard it with such positivity and something akin to reverence. Laughter ensued as Hera told of how she'd tricked Zeus into using more and more power until her friends could trap him in it. The friendship with Hades had certainly surprised Frigga, Hera knew, but she did not seem concerned as Hera had feared she would be.
"Now, there is something I was curious about. With what you've done to alter your visits with us, am I to understand that time moves differently for you?" Frigga inquired hesitantly. Hera nodded, not sure where she was going with this. "Do you celebrate Yule where you are from?"
"I'm not sure if the celebrations are quite the same, but some of us do, yes. There are a host of other holidays with similar leanings, or near enough to the time itself that various traditions tend to bleed into the various other holidays." Hera confirmed, shocked into silence when Frigga brought out a coin like object. "Is that…"
"Skíðblaðnir." Frigga confirmed, still holding the small object. "I could not bear to use it, not when it cost the blood of my youngest son. Still…I could not bear to part with it for the same reason, though now…I would like to grant it to you."
"You would…" Hera hesitated, shocked and confused. "Why?"
"Because of how much you remind me of my son." Frigga admitted, to which Hera couldn't help the intake of breath. "You are not he, and I do not mistake you for such, but the reminders linger. If you are anything like he has been at your age thus far, your propensity for mischief will get you into all manner of mayhem."
"Trouble does seem to find me more often than not." Hera admitted, still uncertain. "I still don't understand why you would…"
"I wanted you to have a way out, should you ever require it." Frigga revealed, placing the small coin like object into Hera's hands. "When trouble find you, as it so often seems, I want you to have a way to evade it. The Norns have not seen fit to show me what you are fated for, but I want to give you every chance I am able."
Hera looked at the deceptive little coin now, one of the more impressive achievements the dwarves had ever crafted, unable to speak for a moment. Skíðblaðnir was the finest ship, and the most ingeniously created. It could grow to hold however many people needed to be taken, could travel by sea or air, and would always find the most advantageous wind. The craftsmanship alone was such that, when not needed at sea, it could be folded like cloth to the size and look of a small coin to put in ones pocket. Loki had wished it to go to Frigga for the same reason that Frigga now wished to gift it to her; to have a way out of trouble should it ever be required.
"You know," She began, when the words finally came to her. "this past Yule has seen several means of transport being gifted to me. How much trouble does everyone think I can get into?"
"Did you not just regale me with how Zeus called you to him in order to exact his revenge for a mere suggestion you'd made once to his wife?" Frigga pointed out. Hera couldn't help it, breaking out into a grin at the candour; knowing she did get into more than her fair share of trouble. "Better for you to have many avenues of escape than none."
The next morning...
"I'll bet you wish you hadn't given up Divination now, don't you, Hermione?" Pansy asked, smirking. It was amazing how the two got on when it hadn't been so long ago that antagonism had run high between the pair.
"Not really," Hermione shrugged, indifferent to the whole thing, not even bothering to look up from reading the Daily Prophet. "I've never really liked horses."
"I suppose that means no visits with Sleipnir in your future?" Hera remarked under her breath.
Draco snorted, even as Pansy gasped; the later of which having not heard Hera's comment.
"He's not a horse, he's a centaur!" Millicent exclaimed, sounding shocked.
"A gorgeous centaur…" Pansy sighed, looking lost in some daydream or other.
"Either way, he's still got four legs." Hermione pointed out coolly. "Besides, we've got other things to concern ourselves with."
"Umbridge." Draco agreed. "Where is she anyway?"
"There might have been something in her tea yesterday." Hera shrugged, just happy that she could finally sit with her friends at breakfast again. "Figured it would buy us time."
"For what?" Blaise inquired. He'd been trying to get involved more here lately.
"She's going to want revenge on Dumbledore for appointing a new teacher without consulting her." Hermione reminded them. "Especially another part-human. You saw the look on her face when she saw Firenze…"
"We need to plan for that, or for what we're going to do before she tries something." Hera remarked darkly, glaring at the door to the Great Hall as if she expected the woman to come storming in at any moment.
"Any ideas?" Draco wondered, hopeful.
"Is maiming still off the table?" Hera inquired.
"It is." Hermione replied primly, both amused and worried about her friends bloodthirsty leanings.
"Then no." Hera shrugged, then looked over with a sly and wickedly mischievous grin. "Pity. I'm sure a nice Blood Eagle would sort her right out."
…
Ron joined them a little while later. Hermione left for her Arithmancy class, while the rest of them made for the new Divination classroom setup. Hera was just glad she'd worked out a different class time for her Arithmancy, otherwise she'd be having to do another time turner year. She was really trying not to use the one she had till she understood just where it came from, as the Ministry still hadn't asked about it yet. If it hadn't come from them, that presented another problem entirely.
Firenze was waiting for them out by Hagrid's hut, and when everyone had gathered, he began leading them to his 'classroom'. It was an open space that felt closed off from the school, while still being inviting and easily accessible. The floor was rather springy with moss, and there were tree stumps and conveniently placed boulders for the various students. He waited patiently while everyone gathered around. When it seemed they all had, he took stock of them all, and moved towards Hera.
"Hera Potter." Firenze greeted, holding a hand out to her.
"Firenze." She returned, shaking hands with him, who surveyed her unblinkingly but did not smile. "It's good to see you again."
"And you." Firenze nodded, inclining his white-blond head. "It was foretold that we would meet again."
Hera couldn't help it, and snorted. "Yes, I'm sure the stars had something to say about you meeting with Dumbledore to teach a bunch of humans."
"Indeed." Firenze continued, allowing for a slight smile, the only inclination she got that he was having far too much fun with this. He gestured to the rest of the room. "Let us begin."
He swished his long palomino tail, raised his hand towards the leafy canopy overhead then lowered it slowly. As it did so, the light seemed to dim, so that they now seemed to be sitting in the forest at twilight; so much so that stars emerged for their view. There were oohs and gasps all around, of course. It was a nice bit of magic, and they could hardly be faulted for not recognizing it. Hera did, however, noticing that it was a form of the magic seen everyday above them in the Great Hall.
"Lie back upon the ground," Firenze instructed. "and observe the heavens. Here is written, for those who can see, the fortune of our races."
Hera shivered at that, but did as instructed along with everyone else, and gazed at the stars to be seen.
"I know that you have learned the names of the planets and their moons in Astronomy," Firenze continued. "and that you have mapped the stars' progress through the heavens. Centaurs have unravelled the mysteries of these movements over centuries. Our findings teach us that the future may be glimpsed in the sky above us."
"Professor Trelawney did Astrology with us!" Parvati exclaimed, and proceeded to point to a specific spot in the sky. "Mars causes accidents and burns, and when-"
"That," Firenze interrupted, a muted sense of horror and amusement on his face. "is human nonsense."
Parvati's hand fell limply to her side.
"While Sibyll Trelawney is a Seer, she wastes her time on what humans call fortune-telling." Firenze explained patiently. "There are few human forms of Divination that can match that of a centaur who spends their life watching the skies. Loom weaving is one such form, though impractical for our location. Can you tell me why loom weaving is one such form, Hera Potter?"
All eyes turned to her, but her eyes don't leave his.
"That's because it is said that there are as many threads as there are stars, and the Norns do so love a good weave." Hera replied quietly. Blinking a little as she looked around, she added. "Might be right on it being impractical for a centaur, not that I'd discount your ingenuity should you decide to just go for it."
It got a chuckle from everyone, Firenze included; though his was hardly loud enough to be noticed by anyone but her.
"Sibyll did talk to me of your side project." He allowed. Turning to the rest of the classroom. "I am here to explain the wisdom of centaurs, which is impersonal and impartial. We watch the skies for the great tides of evil or change that are sometimes marked there. It may take ten years to be sure of what we are seeing."
Firenze gestured to the speck of red above them.
"In the past decade, the indications have been that Wizard-kind is living through nothing more than a brief calm between two wars. Mars, bringer of battle, shines brightly above us, suggesting that the fight must break out again soon. How soon, centaurs may attempt to divine by the burning of certain herbs and leaves, by the observation of fume and flame…"
It was an unusual lesson. Hera wasn't expecting them to truly burn sage and mallow-sweet right there, but they did. They looked for shapes and symbols in twists of smoke. Hera couldn't see anything, but then again she hadn't been able to tell anything from tea leaves either. In any case, Firenze seemed perfectly unconcerned that neither she nor anyone else could see any of the signs he described, telling them that humans were hardly ever good at this.
After all, it took a centaur years to become competent, and even they got it wrong sometimes. It would be foolish to put too much pressure on themselves. The centaur was unlike any teacher Hera had ever had. Firenze seemed far more concerned with impressing upon them that nothing was full-proof. It was one of the few lessons she could remember that left her with more questions than answers.
Later that evening...
"You wanted to see me, Professor?" Luna questioned, once everyone had left the Potions classroom but her.
"He didn't." Hera admitted, finally making her entrance. Luna had been wondering how long her friend had planned to stand out there like that. "I did."
"I trust the two of you not to blow anything up while I'm gone?" Professor Snape inquired sternly, eyeing them with equal parts concern and curiosity. It was a wonder he'd been able to stay a spy for so long, as easy to read as he was.
"We won't be long, Professor." Hera assured him.
He didn't ask, though he did look at Hera for a moment as if deciding something, before nodding and leaving for his office. Luna knew that he could have just taken the passage Hogwarts provided from the classroom for him, but understood that it was his way of giving them both privacy and time. The two sat in front of each other, each lost in thoughts for a moment. It seemed Hera was getting more lost in her thoughts than she needed to be, and Luna decided to do something about it.
"Your head's all fuzzy." Luna noted, watching her friend now. "What has you so worried, Hera?"
"You killed someone." Hera stated, straightforward, without judgement or bias.
"I did." Luna replied back with no hesitation; both because it was true, and she felt she had nothing to be ashamed of.
"When I hit Quirrell, I didn't quite understand what I'd done, what it meant. When I handed Lockhart to Jör, I did." Hera continued, taking Luna's hand into her own, and Luna relaxed at the concern she saw in her friend's eyes. It had been silly to worry that Hera would hate her for what she'd done, but even though Hera hadn't shut her out or treated her any different, seeing the blatant concern in her eyes meant the world to Luna. "What I mean is it's okay to not be okay, to feel guilt even when the situation isn't your fault. I should have checked on you before, but I didn't want to suffocate you. You seemed to be doing okay, but then it occurred to me that I should be more worried because you seem to be doing okay, not less."
"Is that what the wrackspurts have been bothering you about?" Luna blinked in surprise. It wasn't often that something surprised her, but Hera was routinely becoming good at that. Hera nodded. "I wish you would have told me sooner, Hera. I blamed myself for my mother, and it took a lot to recognize that if I was at fault then so was she. I was so young, and she was such a successful witch. It took a lot to realize the same things you're telling me now, but I'm glad you thought enough of me to check in and make sure I wasn't losing myself to internal guilt. The others haven't done that yet."
"They might not think to do so." Hera suggested, squeezing her hand lightly. "They've not been through that yet."
"You mean they haven't killed someone." Luna elaborated. It wouldn't do for her to let her friend sugar-coat things for herself.
Hera nodded. "I know it's likely to happen, what with the war, and…well, everything, but…Is it so wrong for us to want to keep them from it while we can?"
"No, it isn't," Luna acknowledged. "but we can't control what happens."
"Then we'll just have to make sure to be there for them," Hera promised. "for when they need to hear these things. You'll help me, won't you?"
Luna could only smile, as she regarded her friend fondly. "Always."
Though Luna didn't tell her, she wondered if Hera realized the same thing applied to her too.