He was dreaming again. The damn nightmare would never fade. Usually, when he was brought back to this day it was from the perspective of his 14 year-old self, kneeling down, begging for mercy as his father approached him. He would watch as his father's hands erupted in flames then flew to strike. The nightmare would end as he closed his eyes and braced for the blow. He felt no anger or sadness for his younger self: suppression of emotion was his new defense mechanism. It was how he protected himself. No…all he felt was the anticipation for the end of this horrible nightmare.
And yet, it didn't end. It played on. This nightmare was different…this time it was like he was watching the event as a spectator. He had never seen what it really looked like…not like this. It was far crueler from this vantage point. He watched as the flames struck him, as they cascaded up the side of his face. He watched as his teenage self fell screaming to the ground in agony, clutching the air around his freshly burned face. He remembered now, touching the skin was far too painful. Yes, he remembered now, and yet all he could feel was that empty anticipation for the end of this horrible nightmare, no fear, no sadness, no anger…just anticipation. No one seemed to help his teenage self. They all filed quietly out of the room, as if they couldn't hear the screams. The Firelord walked away, smiling that cruel smile. As if he had just accomplished a great task, as if justice had been served. Then, a man bounded down on the platform, a jug of water in his shaking hand. He was older, bigger. Zuko would know Uncle anywhere. It would seem his teenage self was barely conscious, and Uncle was desperately scooping water on his face and whispering undiscernibly to him. Zuko could hear laughter in the background, no doubt Azula. People continued to file quietly out of the room… Everyone ignored him…except Uncle.
Zuko seemed to realize that there were two of him in the room because his gaze snapped up to see Draco and Clavicula staring at him. Zuko raised an eyebrow, what were they doing in his dream? His nightmare.
"Lee?" Clavicula said quietly. In that moment the dream seemed to pause. Everyone stopped moving-they were frozen in place. All except Zuko, Draco, and Clavicula.
Zuko eyes shot from Clavicula to Zuko to the scene down below. Quickly, he shut his eyes and re-opened them as if this were all just an hallucination. "What are you doing here?" Zuko said quietly. "What are you doing in my nightmare?"
"Nightmare…no, we're in the pensieve. Remember? The pensieve allows us to look at..."
"Pensieve!" Zuko yelled suddenly, flying out of his seat. He looked around, his face horrified. It wasn't a dream? This was his memory? This is what really happened all those years ago? Seeing it from this perspective, it seemed so different, so much more horrible. Suddenly, terror replaced anticipation. There was nothing to anticipate, this was no dream, this was not just going to play out and end. Without something to anticipate, Zuko had no blocker, no distractor. Zuko had to face himself…in the realist way possible. Zuko fell to the seat beneath him.
Clavicula moved to catch Zuko but saw Draco had beat him to it, clutching the boy's shoulder.
Draco was ghost white. He had moved instinctively to catch him, never stopping to think about it, not meaning to do it. But…he had already watched the boy fall once, writhing in agony as a teenaged victim. He couldn't allow it to happen again. Draco felt like he had spent the last two years watching people fall and doing nothing to help them. No, he would not let it happen again.
Clavicula stood over the boys, watching this moment of compulsive camaraderie. He found it quite odd and yet he knew it was a wonderful move toward progress, even if they didn't realize it yet. He kneeled down in front of Zuko. He looked into his eyes, which were wheeling around in his head, as if he couldn't find a proper place to rest them.
Clavicula sucked in a breath. "Prince Zuko?" He whispered, finally using what he knew to be his real name, his title.
Zuko's eyes seemed to fixate on the man for a moment, turning from horror, to confusion, to realization. "Firelord Zuko." He said simply.
"Firelord Zuko…" Clavicula repeated, yet there was no mocking in his voice, no skepticism. "Are you alright?"
Draco looked from Clavicula to Zuko, briefly wondering if he should continue with the ruse of calling him Lee. However, in looking at Clavicula's face, he knew it would be silly to do so. Clavicula knew. He knew Zuko didn't belong there…no doubt he knew that none of the Avatar gang belonged there. He had known all this time.
"I don't understand. How can this be real? If this is my memory…why is everyone frozen in place?"
Clavicula looked at Zuko then turned toward Draco who looked equally confused. "Draco, Firelord Zuko…this is a special pensieve. I developed it myself after years of research. I found that was much better to understand…to PROCESS memories if they could be controlled. This pensieve can stop memories in place, can fast-forward them, and rewind them. On my command." Clavicula held up his business-like wand as if for emphasis. He continued cautiously, wanting the boys to understand the gravity of his work, of THEIR work, "I find that, if one can analyze the details of a scene, if one can remain in the scene…one can fully understand it and not avoid it. They can't block it out. They can confront it…and themselves." Clavicula stood, briefly patting Zuko's shoulder, and turned down on the scene. There was an older man kneeling down in front of Zuko. Clavicula raised his eyebrow. That was where he would start his work.
"Who's the man with you?" Clavicula asked slowly.
Zuko looked at Clavicula for a moment before slowly bringing his eyes back down on the scene. Uncle was frozen, gently cradling Zuko's head, his mouth slightly parted. Frozen drops of water were falling carelessly from Uncle's fingers. Uncle's face looked tortured…unbearable. Zuko snapped his face away. God, how he missed the anticipation. These new emotions…they hurt. Burned. "My Uncle. Iroh." He choked out.
Clavicula was quiet for a moment, shifting his position as if to block Zuko's eyeline to the scene down below that he now knew Zuko was not ready to see…not yet. "Firelord Zuko…why did you bring us back to this memory?"
Zuko closed his eyes and sighed heavily. He wasn't crying. He never a cried. Zuko stretched himself out on the long bench. Clavicula adjusted himself, moving his own seated position towards Zuko's face, again, to block his view. Draco took a seat next to Clavicula, staring intently at the scar on Zuko's face.
"This is the place where I thought I had lost my honor." Zuko said quietly, his eyes shut tightly. "This is the place where I was banished, was cursed. I thought I would never rise out of that shame."
Clavicula waited. He knew the boy wanted to say more and he knew silence can be a potent motivator. As covertly as he could, he pulled out a piece of parchment and pen from his vest. He placed the items behind him while Zuko laid with his eyes closed and Draco stared on.
Draco looked at Zuko as if he was the only thing in the world.
Clavicula laid the parchment behind him and the pen came alive, writing furiously once more.
"This is the place where I thought I had lost my honor… I've realized over the years that moments like that, moments that are that profound… that painful…are always the clearest in your memory, but that doesn't necessarily mean that they define who you are." Zuko finished, opening his eyes to stare up at the ceiling. His body, he had just noticed, was laying rigid on the bench. His muscles had been clenched so tightly that it actually kind of hurt. He sighed again. "We control our own destinies. We allow what defines us."
Clavicula covertly looked over to Draco, who seemed to be looking through Zuko. His eyes set, looking but not seeing. Clavicula wondered if Draco had a memory like that…a memory that pinpointed the day where Draco felt he had lost himself. A memory that was, for the moment, controlling his destiny.
Zuko continued, "I came back here because I've realized this day was not the day I lost everything. This day was a catalyst to my true destiny. For all intents and purposes…it was the best day of my life." Zuko sat up, finally able to look down on the scene again, trying to fight the terror and pain that were slowly trying to push tears out of him. He would not cry. He never a cried.
Clavicula flicked his wand and the scene started to move again.
"Prince Zuko." Uncle whispered, in what he thought was an empty room. His voice was amplified…no doubt due to Clavicula. "Prince Zuko, there is still hope. PRINCE ZUKO, never forget who you are. You WILL survive this. And it will reveal your true destiny. " Teenage Zuko, skin and blood dripping from his face, seemed to nod slightly before finally passing out.
Zuko's eyes widened upon hearing Uncle's words, words he had never known were uttered and yet seemed so familiar. Then suddenly, Zuko flew out of the scene and back into McGonagall's office. However, the usual relief he felt at finally being released from this nightmare was not there; it had been replaced by the pain and terror that were finally released upon seeing his true memory and yet… something was dulling it…making it bearable; there was a new emotion now. Love.
…
Once again, Harry laid in his bed. In the past several weeks he had woken up to a cavalcade of emotions. Terror, calm, confusion. Today, he woke up to a feeling of mild dread. Today, he would have to face McGonagall. Today, he would have to face Ginny. Everything was shit. He had meant to go to McGonagall yesterday but had been sidetracked by an enraged Ginny, who had stormed out of the Great Hall and disappeared. He had searched for her of course; he needed to make sure she understood it was all a misunderstanding. Couldn't she see they were all on edge? That they were all unraveling? Harry sighed. Of course she couldn't. Harry seemed to be the only one who could see these things. Ginny was so juvenile sometimes. Not like Hermione. Hermione was calm, logical. It took a lot to tick her off-unless of course you were Ron-and even then she could be convinced if posed with a logical rebuttal. Ginny was not that type of woman. Ginny was a girl. Ginny was unpredictable. Harry frowned and his brows furrowed, damn that girl's impetuousness!
Harry's life had been nothing if not abrupt and inconsistent. He certainly didn't need that in a girlfriend. Harry turned on his side, trying to push these realizations away. He was just frustrated. He was mad for Ginny, right? Weren't the very things that were irritating him now, the very things that made him love her to begin with? Right? Harry had changed after the war was over. He needed calm, consistency. He craved it. He couldn't stand wishy-washy people, dramatic people. He hated the spotlight that he couldn't seem to escape. He had lost any interest in the childish problems and silliness. He had lost interest in dramatics. The only people who preferred dramatics were people who didn't have to endure them…constantly. He was not the kind of guy who went chasing after some girl in the rain, and professed his love to her on a cliff-side as thunder screamed in the background. No, he was a 'sit down and read the paper with his wife' kind of guy now. After the war, he was an old 18 year old.
"Harry." A small voice called from outside. Harry knew her voice anywhere. Harry grabbed his wand off the nightstand and flicked it lazily at the door before rolling over on his stomach and resting his face in his pillow once more. He heard her small footsteps pad into his room. He felt her weight depress his mattress as she sat down. He smiled.
"Hey Hermione." Harry said into his pillow. She laughed slightly at his current position.
"Harry, you know I can't talk to you with your face in a pillow." Hermione finally said through laughter. She smacked his leg and Harry finally rolled over, sitting up to grin at her.
Hermione grinned back. She rested her back against Harry's footboard and brought her legs up on the bed, wrapping her arms around her now bended knees. She sighed slightly. "Harry, we have a situation on our hands."
Harry laughed. "Which situation? The "Jealous Significant Others" situation? The "All-Powerful Elemental Avatar" situation? The "Everyone in School Now Hates Everyone Else" situation?"
Hermione sighed. "No."
Harry quirked an eyebrow.
Hermione flicked her wand and something flew into the room, the door clicking closed behind it. "Don't want to be overheard." Hermione finished.
Gently, the object landed in Hermione's hands.
"A magazine?" Harry said, looking at her with mild annoyance.
"No. It's a journal." Hermione replied.
Harry smirked, "You shouldn't be reading people's diaries Hermione; I recall the consequences being pretty severe last time…" Harry's smirk faltered a bit. Were there no safe memories for him?
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not a diary, Harry. A Journal." Harry shrugged, Hermione continued, "In the muggle world, people do research to solve problems. When they do the research they publish their findings in "journals" where other scientists review the research and critique it. It's how the entire muggle scientific community works Harry!" Hermione finished, flabbergasted. Harry had never heard of a Journal before.
"THIS…" she said gesturing down at the magazine, "looks to be some kind of…magic journal. Apparently, someone tried to mimic the muggle practice…"
"Well, that makes sense." Harry said. "What with the events of last year…" Harry was cut off.
Hermione held up her hand and shook her head vigorously. "No…this journal is dated in 1945. That's why its existence is so confusing."
Harry wasn't following.
"Harry, the magical world barely even recognized the muggle world as legitimate back then…why would they so closely mimic a muggle practice if they didn't take the muggle world seriously? This periodical…it replicates, almost exactly, the structure of a muggle scientific journal." Hermione said. "In 1945…something like this shouldn't even have EXISTED in the magical world."
"Ok…Hermione, I think you need to start from the beginning. What does this…journal have to do with anything…why is it a 'situation'?"
"Harry, remember when McGonagall called us to her office, to tell us she knew about Aang and the rest? Remember how she was reading something?" Harry nodded angrily, he hated that damn book. Hermione continued, " Well, THIS is what she was reading. I saw the beginning of the title but couldn't figure it out…until I was at the library the other night…and found this."
Harry knew Hermione was about to say something big…but Hermione had this thing about introducing concepts in a way that challenged the listener to figure it out on their own. Harry found it irritating but figured she didn't know she was doing it. "Monkey Feathers, Hermione! Just tell me what you want to say!" Harry said, his tone coming off half amused, he had been hanging around Aang too much.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "McGonagall ALREADY KNEW that Aang and his friends were here! I told you she was too easy to convince! McGonagall told me SPECIFICALLY that if I had any questions as to the ORIGINS of their arrival or how to get them back I should talk to her. THEN, I find the very same periodical she was reading just sitting out, quite conspicuously, in the restricted section? It's like McGonagall WANTED me to find it…" Harry looked like he was about to protest but Hermione held up her hand, "There's one more thing you should see Harry…"
Harry sat and watched as she turned the pages of the journal, finally she landed on a page and handed it to Harry, he read the title of the journal article, "A Call for Integration. How Muggle Science Can Inform Magical Theory."
"The authors Harry, read the author names." Hermione said impatiently.
Harry looked below the title and gasped. "Aluitious LOVEGOOD...MINERVA MCGONAGALL!" Harry almost yelled. "Hermione, did you see this!"
Hermione smirked, "Yes Harry, I believe I had a chance to glance at it."
"So…so…McGonagall fought for integration of the muggle and magical world? McGonagall published her beliefs in a…a research journal?" Harry said, although he wasn't sure why he was surprised and he also wasn't sure what any of this had to do with Aang and his friends.
Hermione's brow furrowed. "Well…not exactly." Harry's face fell a bit in disappointment. Hermione noticed this and quickly continued, "but she DID believe that muggle IDEAS should be integrated into the magical world which is illustrated not only in the fact that she was published in a periodical that replicates a muggle publication, but also in the article itself and THAT is a huge deal Harry."
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Harry, Magic Theory is a very old, very respected field. And you also have to realize that this was written in 1945. The very whisper of muggle ideas, muggle practices, being included in anything magical was ludicrous and could have gotten McGonagall laughed out of the field. That's why it's so strange to see a JOURNAL in the magical world in 1945. It's a muggle PRACTICE in the magical world! THIS…" She gestured to the article, "could have ruined her entire career worse than a set of bad OWL's. It was brave of her to have been so public about her beliefs back then, to have her name printed in a muggle-mimicking magical periodical."
Harry was quiet for a moment, "So what about this Lovegood guy…you think he's…related to Luna?"
Hermione bit her lip, "Harry…Do you know the history of Luna's family?"
Harry shook his head.
Hermione looked pained for a moment but continued, "Harry…the Lovegoods used to be a respected pureblood magical family…until Aluitious Lovegood. Apparently, Mr. Lovegood had ideas…ideas unacceptable to magical society. Eventually, he was turned into a laughingstock because of them. The Lovegood family has been seen as, and frankly have behaved, rather eccentric ever since."
"But how do you know this?" Harry said. Honestly, it was unsettling sometimes hearing about all the things Hermione knew…but it was downright terrifying to think about all the things she knew and didn't tell you about.
"Harry, it's basic research. One day, right before we left Hogwarts our sixth year, I decided to research what the world was like before Voldemort came to power…to see if there were any clues that could maybe help us figure him out, you know? I thought maybe understanding his early years would help us find horcruxes…" Hermione swallowed and was quiet for a moment before continuing, "…Well, I looked at Daily Prophets from the thirties, forties, and fifties and Aluitious Lovegood was everywhere. He was apparently a great magical theorist of the day, he'd been published in hundreds learned magical texts. He had discovered several new species of magical creature as well, including Kneazles. He was extremely well respected. Then, towards the end of the fifties, the Prophet started printing articles calling him a crackpot, saying he had lost his mind. It said he had all these crazy ideas… although it doesn't really say what they were, very curious…. anyway, he disappeared from the Prophet all together. He had disappeared from all magical publications. The next time you see his name in print was in Luna's birth announcement…and his obituary. He's Luna's grandfather, you see."
Harry was flabbergasted. "Does…does Luna know that you know this?" He whispered.
"No." Hermione whispered back. "I didn't have the heart to tell her and, bless her, she probably wouldn't pay me any attention anyway." Hermione smiled in a watery manner. "Still, I suppose we'll have to talk to Luna about this. When I first found out about it, I felt bad for Luna, but we had more pressing matters to attend to…now…"
Harry nodded is head in agreement. "So…what about McGonagall? What does this journal business have to do with her? What does any of this have to do with Aang? What's the situation?"
"Well, Harry. There in lies the situation. We will need to speak with her. Something isn't right about this journal…about this whole situation. I think she may have information to help us figure out how to get Aang and his friends back home and I think this journal has something to do with that. She had to have known Aang and his friends were here all along and she's trying to help us figure out how to get them back." Hermione tightened her grip around her knees. "But given the events of the last several weeks…I don't know how excited she will be to help us directly."
Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. "She'll help. McGonagall's first priority is to help Aang. That being said, she will still bust our bullocks for it."
"Harry! Language!" Hermione said, smirking.
Harry laughed. "Hey! I'm not Ron, I'm supposed to be able to curse all I bloody want!" Harry said, suddenly hoping the mention of Ron's name wouldn't make Hermione too upset.
Hermione was quiet for a moment and Harry started to worry he had gone too far, when she said, "I'm not Ginny. So you can't act like a…mooselion cub around me." They both stared at each other, wondering if that retort made any sense, before bursting into laughter.
"But Hermione, if McGonagall knew about Aang and the others, and wants to help us…why not just tell us what to do?" Harry said as the laughter subsided.
Hermione was pensive. "I don't know Harry…perhaps she's taking a page out of Dumbledore's book? I suppose it's very unlike her…"
And then there was tapping at the window. Two great owls stood perched on the outer window ledge, pecking furiously to get into the warm room and out of the Scottish winter cold. Harry flicked his wand, and the birds practically fell in. Harry grabbed the parchment from his owl, Hermione doing the same with hers.
They froze.
"Your appointment?" Harry said quietly.
"Yes. I guess McGonagall really meant ALL of us, huh." Hermione replied.
"What do you think her 'colleague' wants to talk to us about?" Harry said nervously.
"Who knows Harry…Who knows." Hermione replied.
They were both stuck in one of those rare moments when Hermione had a question she couldn't answer.
…
Ginny stormed out of the hall, effectively shaking off Toph with a quick "I need to be alone for a while". She had seen it. Proof of what she had long suspected. She saw how tenderly he looked at her. She saw the love in his eyes…the adoration. There was something between them that Ginny didn't really understand, and that was what hurt the most. Harry and Hermione had this secret connection she would never have with him, that she could never understand. She had to leave before she exploded.
Ron was steps behind Ginny. He knew where she was going. It was a place that neither Harry nor Hermione knew about. A Weasley secret as it were. He would go there too. He couldn't chance running into Harry. He would pound him into the ground if he did. Harry had lied to him. He had said that they were like siblings to each other. But siblings didn't look at each other like that. Siblings didn't embrace like that. They both looked like they shared something. Something deep, intimate. Perhaps they had been carrying on like this all this time. Perhaps a suite wasn't the only thing Harry and Hermione had shared. Ron balled his fists at the thought.
Ginny had come up upon the stone wall, next to the portrait of an old man staring out to sea. The man never acknowledged her. He just stared wistfully out to sea. Ginny felt like she finally understood why he looked so sad. She dragged her wand down a very particular crevice. The wall erupted to the side and revealed a smallish room with two squashy, repeatedly mended, old couches and a window overlooking the Black lake. The room itself had been decorated, a testament to the powerful Weasley bloodline. Each Weasley left a keepsake there. Something to show that they were there, that they had lived, that they were family. It was a safe place, unknown to all of Hogwarts. The greatest Wealsey secret.
Ginny looked around and smiled. There were various pictures all around. Ginny's great grandparents smiled at her from a small old portrait they had commissioned in their seventh year at Hogwarts. A photograph of her father's brother waved at her as he sat astride his Quidditch broom. Fred's picture winked at her from the corner of the room. The room had become cluttered as the Weasleys expanded over time…but it was fitting. It was so…Weasley. It was a safe place.
Ron entered the Weasley Chamber, as it came to be known in the family. Discovered by a Weasley Hogwarts student generations upon generations ago. Xander Weasley. It was tradition that each new Hogwarts Weasley was to be told about the Weasley Chamber at the end of their first year. If they survived their first year, they had earned the right to enter. Ron snorted inwardly, Hogwarts was probably a bit rougher when that tradition was thought up…although he HAD almost died twice in his first year. Still this room was something Ron had never told anyone about. He was forbidden by blood. He figured he would eventually tell Hermione, once they were married and she became a Weasley…but now. Now he wasn't so sure. He saw Ginny, sitting on the couch staring out at the Black lake.
"I knew you were following me." Ginny said quietly.
Ron walked over to the adjacent couch and sat. He joined her in staring, wistfully, out the window. "What do you think?" He said finally.
"What does it matter?" Ginny replied bitterly.
Ron was quiet. So many times he had felt like he didn't matter. For the first time, he realized maybe Ginny had felt that way as well. The very thought that Potter could make his sister feel that way made him want to rip him limb from limb. "Just give me the word Ginny…" Ron flew out of his chair. His uncle Bilius, in all his 16-year-old glory, watched on smirking from his picture. "You just give me the word Ginny and I'll throttle him!"
Ginny flew out of her chair, "No! YOU give ME the word and I'll throttle HER!"
"HOW COULD THEY DO THIS TO US!" Ron yelled. Great Aunt Muriel looked at them disapprovingly, even at 14 she was horribly proper and just as rude.
"How DARE they! ALL this time!" Ginny yelled back. They both paced the room furiously. George looked to be laughing in his Yule ball photo.
"How could I have not noticed! I…I had suspected! All that time we were on the run! I knew it! I KNEW! Did you SEE the way they were holding each other! Friends don't hold each other that way!" Ron yelled, kicking over an ottoman that had been knicked by Septimus Weasley, his portait on the ceiling looked affronted, Cedrella Black –his future wife- laughed jovially from the corner of the room, disowned by her own family- ever the Weasley.
"I waited! I WAITED for him! At least you were there! At least you got to see that treacherous…" Ginny started.
"YOU THINK THAT WAS BETTER! You should have SEEN how she CHOSE him. That night at our campsite! I was leaving and she CHOSE him. At first, I thought she was being noble, I thought she was being a better FRIEND than I had. But now…GODS I TORTURED MYSELF FOR WALKING OUT ON HIM AND HE FANCIED HER THIS WHOLE TIME! HE SEDUCED HER!" Ron yelled.
"She SWORE to me Harry would see! He would see me and realize how he felt! I WAITED FOR YEARS! I CRIED TO HER! I CRIED! And she sat there and held my hand and LIED TO MY FACE! The whole time she was plotting! THE WHOLE TIME SHE WAS STEALING HIM!" Ginny yelled as 17-year-old Molly looked at her sadly.
Finally, they both fell back to their seated positions panting. There was no doubt that Weasleys had a wild streak. They were emotional. They could do anything, could convince themselves of anything, because they had enough nerve…and too much pride.
"Ron…what are we going to do?" Ginny asked and, for the first time in a while, she looked like a little girl to Ron. A scared little girl. A little girl who needed her brother.
Ron plastered on a small smile, trying to hide his intense pain. He had to do it…for her. "Don't worry, Ginny. We'll get over it." Ron got up and crossed the room wrapping his arm around his sister. "It's going to be hard…so hard. But…we have each other Ginny. You know…it's always been me and you."
Ginny sniffed. "No, it's always been Harry, Ron and Hermione…it's always been the Weasley boys. Never me." She whispered.
Ron squeezed her, "Don't be silly Ginny, the way I've always seen it…It's been Bill and Charlie, Fred and George, and me and you. No sense in either of us becoming a Percy." Ron laughed looking down at Ginny, she was laughing, a small laugh he rarely saw from her.
Ginny became quiet, "For a moment there…I thought you were going to pick Hermione."
"For a moment…so did I." Ron replied. How young they were to see everything in such black and white terms. How scarred. Neither of them seemed to realize, that it didn't have to be a choice at all.
Then two owls pecked at the window. Ron strode over and opened it, the owls flew in and delivered their messages. Suddenly, a giant bat flew into the room, chasing the owls out. Momo rested himself on a table and immediately became enamored with a moving picture, picking it up and shaking it. Bill Weasley was not amused.
Ron ran over to the crazy bat thing and grabbed the picture away. Momo flew over to Ginny and hid behind her head. She laughed as Momo crawled into her lap. She stroked him gently and he seemed content.
Ron opened his letter.
Mr. Ronald Weasley,
This letter is to inform you that your appointment with Healer Clarence Clavicula has been set. Please report to the Headmistress's Office next Saturday, the 14th of November at Ten am, for your intake appointment. Please be aware that failure to comply will result in severe penalties.
Regards,
Clarence Clavicula, Healer
Senior Fellow, Saint Mungo's Hospital
Ron looked up to see Ginny finishing her letter. He sighed, "When is your appointment?"
"The 15th at 12. You?" Ginny replied.
"The 14th at 10." Ron said quietly.
"So I guess McGonagall was serious huh?" Ron said.
Ginny laughed. "Has she ever joked about anything…ever?"
"…noted." Ron replied. He walked over to Ginny and sat down on the squishy armchair that had been knicked by Eva Weasley-a great cousin-in a fifth year OWL mental breakdown.
Ron, for the first time, voluntarily stroked Momo. The animal seemed to be just as shocked as he was. He sighed, "Everything is going to be alright." He said quietly, more to himself than to his sister.
"Yes…it has to be." Ginny replied.
Silent Weasleys, has there ever been such a thing?
…
"This is all my fault Appa." Aang said, leaning against his old friend. Releasing a long sigh, his body slowly slid down the animal's side until Aang found himself sitting neatly on the ground next to the laying beast. Appa groaned in response.
"It is so Appa! Don't try to make this any better with your fancy words!" Aang said, staring down at his interlocked legs. "Sometimes…I feel like everywhere I go I create conflict."
Appa groaned, his eyes closed as he nudged Aang slightly in a way, one could only assume, was to be reassuring.
"Come on Appa, I know you've been hanging out here in the Dark Forest so you haven't exactly SEEN what's going on per se…but you gotta admit, none of these kids would be fighting right now if it wasn't for me." Aang concluded.
Appa opened his eye and closed it.
"No! I am NOT being dramatic! From what I've learned, Harry, Ron and Hermione have been through A LOT. Imagine living through a war, finally being able to have a normal life THEN a bald kid from ANOTHER world and all his friends come FALLING into your lap! It's MY fault they're all mad at each other! They were all so wound up to begin with and now they have to deal with US on top of that?"
Appa snorted.
"Yeah, yeah! I know you know how it feels to live through a war! You know what I mean Appa! It's not just Harry and his friends who are fighting now! Sokka and Zuko are at it too! Toph and Katara have chosen sides in the Ginny-Hermione feud so it's only a matter of time before they start fighting… Spirits, I'm only one kid." Aang sighed.
Appa groaned.
"Fine! One teenager…kind of…I guess. How am I supposed to keep the peace? I barely understand this world as it is! I worked my arrow off to become the avatar! Now I have to learn how to be a fake wizard too! Now I have to help kids deal with their issues? The last time I talked to teenagers who weren't Sokka, Toph, Katara or Zuko was when I was at that Fire Nation school!" Aang groaned. It certainly felt like everywhere he went he caused a problem. During the war, almost every village that had him as a guest was burned to the ground. Almost everyone who tried to hide him was met with cruel retribution. Zuko had to turn his back on his entire family to join him. Sokka and Katara had to leave their home to help him. Toph not only left her family but her immense wealth to be his teacher. He was starting to feel like a burden. It's not like any of them could be normal teenagers now. They were war heroes. Aang had turned them into war heroes. Eveywhere they went, they were mobbed. Aang recalled Katara lamenting about that very fact…
"I went into town today! You wouldn't BELIEVE how some of these people behave! One girl tried to rip my mother's necklace right off my throat! They all wanted a piece of me, as if I'm just some kind of collectable!"
Aang sighed. Katara. His Katara. He would be a fool if he didn't notice how the people in this new world treated her. Of course the guys ogled her. Aang couldn't say he was surprised…but the girls, they hated her. Aang didn't get it. Katara was the sweetest, nicest, most beautiful, sexy…actually, maybe Aang did get it a little bit. They were jealous of her. Still, Aang didn't understand the level of animosity the girls seemed to have towards her. He recalled her breaking down privately to him about it…
She did it on purpose! She levitated the cauldron AT me! That Romilda is such a…such a…jerk! I wish I could bend here! I bet she wouldn't be magicking cauldrons at me in a block of ice… but I can't. Harry and his friends are going through a lot of trouble for us. I just have to take it. Maybe…maybe if I try to talk to the girls more, maybe they will lay off. Aang, please don't tell anyone about this. I don't want to stress anyone out…
But her plan backfired. Talking to the girls only seemed to anger them more. The girls became more cunning with their tricks. Turning her hair grey, spreading vicious rumors… Aang turned red. He couldn't tell anyone! She couldn't defend herself! They weren't magical…they were BENDERS! This was all his fault. The girls were jealous of Katara because of him. That could be the only explanation. He was a burden, a problem causer.
"Spirits Appa…what am I gonna do?" Aang whispered.
"Well, I think a nice brushing would do." A voice said behind Aang. He whirled around to see Luna staring dreamily at the giant beast before her.
"Luna!" Aang yelled in a somewhat high pitched yelp. She didn't know about Appa! They hadn't told anyone! What would she say? What would she….wait, why wasn't she afraid? Why wasn't Appa alarmed?
"You're not scared?" Aang said cautiously.
"Actually, I'm a bit chilly. Nargles knicked my sweater you see. Very mischievous, nargles." Luna said, smiling widely at Aang.
"Uh…this is Appa." Aang said confusedly, gesturing to the giant beast.
"Yes, that sounds about right. I've been calling him Lysander. But I think Appa is a much better name. Just the right amount of syllables." Luna concluded thoughtfully.
"Wait... have you two…met?" Aang said confusedly.
"Oh yes. We've known each other for quite some. I was tracking bubsies, you see." Luna said.
"I…see?" Aang replied.
"Well, as you know, bubsies love the low brush of the forest, makes it better for rain dancing." Luna continued.
"Sure. Of course." Aang said, he just accepted it, you just gotta accept it.
"Well, I had come up on a rather dapper looking tree that I was sure was a bubsie nest, when I saw Lysander…Appa." Luna smiled, nodding courteously to Aang. "Appa and I have been hunting Bubsies ever since. Although we can't go too far."
"Right, must be hard for him to get through the woods easily." Aang said.
"No, it's not that. Appa's scent alerts the Twixies. The Twixies are sort of in cahoots with the bubsies. They would know we were coming from a mile away." Luna concluded.
"…you're insane aren't you." Aang said.
"Hmm?" Luna replied, she hadn't been paying attention. She was thoroughly enamored in stroking Appa's fur.
"I said, you're a genius." Aang said, feeling a little guilty.
Luna laughed. "Daddy says only the truly stupid think themselves geniuses. The real genius is the man who proudly admits to his stupidity."
Aang smiled. "Your dad sounds like a man I used to know. His name was Gyatzo. And if your father was right then…Gyatzo's the stupidest man I know."
Luna smiled back at him, "You must be very proud."
They were quiet for a moment, both staring up at Appa. It was a comfortable silence.
"So. I take it you come from the Southern Air Temple?" Luna said suddenly.
"…what?" Aang said, his eyes wide with confusion. Who told her that? How did she know that? "How do you know that? I suppose Harry told you?"
Luna smiled. "No. Your clothes told me. For example, western air benders use a different sowing technique, one more suitable to the warmer temperatures."
"But…how? How do you know about that?" Aang was CERTAIN he had never really talked THAT deeply about his culture…to anyone.
"Doesn't everyone know? My grandfather used to talk about it all the time. He was quite famous in his day." Luna said proudly.
"…what?" Aang replied. How could this be? Harry said no one knew about his world. Harry said they had to hide themselves, that people would freak out if they saw who they really were. Harry said…
"Oh yes, my grandfather, Alutious. He used to talk about the Airbenders all the time. He wrote about them and everything. He was published extensively, you know." Luna replied, still staring up at Appa.
"But…how come you never said anything about this before?" Aang said.
"…Hmm, no one asked. Every time I tried to talk about your world Hermione would cut in, poor thing, I don't think she can help herself." Luna smiled appreciatively for a moment then continued. "I just assumed everyone already knew. My grandfather was a great man, you know!" Luna finished, smiling at Appa's giant eye that was now staring at her.
Aang was shaking, "Wait…so you're telling me…that EVERYONE knows about our world? Why… Why would Harry lie?" Aang was babbling now, talking more to himself than Luna, "Why would Harry have us pretend to be wizards if everyone already knew our world existed?" Suddenly, Aang's mind flew back to a tearful Katara lamenting about how she couldn't defend herself…because Harry told them they couldn't bend. "How long? How long have people known our world existed?" Aang almost yelled.
Luna looked at him curiously for a moment. "I suppose for maybe fifty years? Grandfather started telling everyone about it back then. He used to tell me about how shocked everyone was when he told them. I suppose it was a rather large discovery. Grandfather used to say he had been there, had studied the airbenders. He told me such wonderful stories about them when I was little. People must have thought he was one stupid man!" Luna said smiling at the reference her father taught her.
"…Luna, thank you." Aang said bowing low to her. She smiled in interest. "I have to go now, but I really enjoyed talking to you." Aang then turned on his heel and ran, throwing a quick wave to Appa on his way out.
Luna thought he was a rather slow runner.
Aang felt tricked. Lied to. The whole world knew about the existence of his people and yet Harry had forced them to lie! Harry had lied! Sokka was right, why would Aang think it was a good idea to blindly put your faith in people! Had Aang learned NOTHING from the last year of war? He ran furiously, his mind focusing in on one painful image, Katara's upset face. Katara had to suffer silently in this new world, because HARRY had forbade them to tell anyone about their true selves. She couldn't defend herself! He couldn't protect her! Aang's tattoos glowed briefly as he ran through the corridors of the castle finally coming up upon the portrait of a wolf. He wanted truth, he wanted justice.
Harry Potter would have to answer to the Avatar.
Authors Note. Hey kids! This took me a while, yes I know. Hopefully, it was worth the wait. So what do you think? Where shall we go from here? I figure I should prolly squeeze in something about Aang's first Quidditch match. Should be fun seeing as how everyone is fighting! So, the story is (hopefully) taking a deep and interesting turn. What will become of Draco? Will our heroes, working with Clavicula and each other, be able to resolve their trauma? What of our library discoveries? Stay Tuned! I want to thank Kate for Beta'ing this for me. She was my high school English teacher and for all the teens out there NEVER take your teachers for granted. Some of them, if your lucky, will stay with you for longer than high school-in one way or another lol. BIG shoutouts to Harrypopo for your hilarious and creative reviews. Me thinks cabbage merchant may have a reference in this thanks to your genius. This one also goes out the All Around Dude for liking the story so much that he lit a bit of a fire under me to finish the chap. Ummm, reviews are always appreciated but not obligatory. And so we continue...