AN
There is an Animal Death (of natural causes) in this chapter.
December 1992, 2nd year
Harry's wounds healed nicely and he was acting normal, as if the whole business didn't affect him. Lynea, Draco and Pansy had told the others from their year about the incident and they had unanimously decided to stay together as one group from now on. This was a bit of a hassle sometimes, but not the first time they had done so.
Harry seemed fine on the outside, but every time someone expressed concern over him, he snapped at them.
"You need to eat more," Millicent said during breakfast one morning. "I thought we were done with this. But you've been eating less than Lynea these past two weeks."
Gregory, who had started to reach for Harry's leftovers, stopped with a guilty look on his face. Harry pushed his plate over to him regardless.
"I'm fine," he said in an annoyed tone. "Stop pestering me. Nothing is wrong. You don't need to treat me like I'm some fragile glass figure." The moment the words were out of his mouth, Harry looked like he regretted them already.
Their whole table was silent, reminded of the attack with the glass vase.
After several minutes of awkward silence, Draco cleared his throat and asked about the upcoming holidays.
"Professor Snape will go around with the list soon," he said.
Something in his tone caught Lynea's attention. "Are you going to stay?"
"Yes," Draco said reluctantly and averted his eyes. "My parents seem to have more important things to do than celebrate Yule with their only child."
"We are staying, too," Gregory said and Vincent nodded along.
"My father is busy, as well," Theodore said with furrowed brows and looked at Lynea. "He told me I would spend Yule with you."
"That's," Lynea blinked, "rather suspicious. I mean –"
"We know," Draco said. "It can't be a coincidence."
Pansy leaned forward to snatch an apple from the bowl next to Draco. "And you are supposed to celebrate Yule on your own? Just the three of you?"
Draco shrugged.
"We could stay with you," Lynea said with a glance to Harry. "That would make us six people."
Harry blinked in confusion. "Am I not going to Tracey's this y– Oh." His eyes widened. "Er – Would your family be okay with that, Lynea? If we stayed at Hogwarts?"
Lynea shrugged. "Mother won't be pleased, but I don't think she will object."
And Phyllida would understand why Harry would prefer to stay at Hogwarts. The whole 'taking over guardianship' thing was still a raw subject, even if Harry pretended it wasn't.
"I appreciate the thought, but I do not wish to sour Yule for you," Draco said.
"Nonsense," Lynea said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "We will have a great time together. We can exchange family traditions and enjoy the holiday together." She looked at Theodore. "Right?"
Theodore shrugged. "I don't care either way." He smiled in response to Lynea's narrowed eyes. "But I think it would be nice."
Lynea nodded. "Then it is settled. I will write to my mother after dinner. I was planning to go out tonight, anyway."
"What?" Draco asked. "But we have Transfiguration first thing tomorrow. And Astronomy lessons at midnight. And you can't just go out at night."
"Theodore already agreed to come with me," Lynea said, ignoring Draco's actual question.
"Because of the total lunar eclipse?" Blaise asked.
Lynea nodded. "There are certain Necromancy rituals that are far more powerful under a blood moon."
Blaise put a hand to his chin in thought. "Can I come with you? To observe?"
Lynea blinked. Usually, everyone who wasn't Theodore reacted rather adversely whenever she mentioned the Forbidden Arts – like they did now. Daphne was frozen in her seat, eyes wide. Vincent and Gregory had jumped at the word 'Necromancy' and dropped their forks, which they had still not retrieved, and kept glancing at her with frightened eyes. Even Draco looked uncomfortable.
"Sure?" she said hesitantly. "If you want to? I don't mind."
o
"Why blood, though? I thought Blood Magic was different from Necromancy."
"It is," Lynea said, putting the athame away and stretching her arm in front of her. "Blood represents life. I am offering my life to Death."
The blood dripping from her hand did not fall to the ground. Instead, it floated in the air and slowly dissolved into a glowing red mist.
Blaise frowned. "That's … morbid."
"Is it?" Lynea tilted her head. "Some sacrifice live animals for God, we sacrifice our blood for Death."
The blood mist spread out and seemingly dissolved. The wound on Lynea's hand was already healing itself.
"Why not live animals?" Blaise asked.
"Because murder is a violation against Death. We would never take what is not ours to take. To us Death is sacred. It's even the Lémure family motto – mors sacra."
"Huh," Blaise said. "I always thought Necromancers were especially keen on taking lives, but I guess I was wrong."
"Many are," Lynea said. "We are weird in our own ways, but we are not monsters."
It was back again, the blood mist, now forming a glowing band that led into the Forbidden Forest.
Theodore gulped. "Do we have to follow it?"
Lynea glanced at him, before looking at sky. "You don't have to, if you would rather wait here. The total eclipse should start in about an hour, I won't be back before it ends."
"I want to go," Blaise said. "We will be protected by your magic, right?"
"To a certain degree," Lynea amended.
She set off to follow the blood mist and after a moment, Blaise and Theodore fell in step beside her.
Lynea had never been in the Forbidden Forest before. It was darker than most forests she had wandered through, the trees looming high above them and shutting out all the light from the stars and the moon. She didn't light her wand and motioned for the other two not to do it, either. The glowing blood mist provided barely enough light to see by, but it would suffice. They followed it for about an hour – Lynea did not need to pay attention to the actual passing of time, because it had been just after ten o'clock when they had entered the forest and when they eventually arrived at a clearing the partial eclipse was nearing its end and the full moon slowly turning a bloody red. The full eclipse would begin just after eleven and would end well after midnight.
Lynea settled down at the edge of the clearing and looked up to the moon, waiting. Theodore and Blaise sat down beside her, not daring to break the silence. She did not know how long they sat there until movement across the clearing caught Lynea's eye. A large wolf entered the clearing and despite looking haggard and ill, its fur dull and dishevelled, patches of it missing entirely – Lynea could still see that the creature had once been a magnificent and beautiful wolf.
Theodore ad Blaise both tensed, but the wolf didn't seem to notice them as it stumbled over a root and then fell. It lay there, heaving raspy breaths, and Lynea slowly rose from her seat to approach it. Above them, the eclipse reached its maximum as Lynea knelt beside the ill wolf and put a gentle hand on its snout. The wolf looked at her and tried to move, but failed.
"Easy, there," she whispered softly. "It will be over soon. Close your eyes and relax, dear one."
The wolf listened to her and she waited for its heartbeat to slow, its breathing to ebb away into nothing. Witnessing the death of a living creature was different compared to finding an already dead body. The taste of Death's power had another flavour to it, it was richer and more vibrant, but not stronger. The amount of power a Necromancer was granted by Him differed from death to death. Lynea did not know whether there was a reason behind that, whether He intentionally made some deaths more powerful than others.
The pack only appeared when the eclipse was over and the blood seeped out of the moon's light. It stood at the edge of the clearing, partially hidden by the trees and the undergrowth. Lynea finished with the funeral rites and then backed away. She joined Theodore and Blaise, who were already waiting with weary looks and they made their way back to the castle. This time they lit their wands.
"Spooky," Blaise said and shivered, looking back at the dark forest. "How did the magic know that there would be a dying wolf in that specific clearing right during the lunar eclipse?"
"Death knows all," Lynea simply said and then turned away to walk up to the castle.
o
Her mother's reply came a few days later, just in time before Professor Snape would be going around with the list of students that wished to stay over the holidays. As predicted, she was not pleased but allowed them to stay.
"Huh," Lynea said, as she reached the second half of the letter.
"What is it?" Draco asked, leaning over to look at it.
Lynea turned towards him, holding the letter between them, and continued reading. Then she looked up at Harry and handed him the letter. Phyllida had written about Naenia's progress with the Ministry and that Naenia had apparently either overlooked or not cared about some quite important aspect of the whole situation – namely, whether Harry wanted to press charges against the Dursleys. It wasn't an urgent matter, it would still take a few months until Naenia could officially take over guardianship of Harry, but it was something that had be considered in the meantime.
It only took Harry a day to come to a decision. He took Lynea aside in the common room – the only place where he was allowed to be alone these days – and told her he did not want to press charges.
"I know they would probably deserve it," Harry told her. "But I don't think it is necessary. They will be rid of me and I will be rid of them and that should be the end of it." He gave Lynea a look.
She raised her hands. "I won't try to convince you otherwise. This is your decision and yours alone. You are the one they abused."
Harry averted his gaze. "They still provided for me all these years."
"They barely kept you alive," Lynea replied sharply. "And they left you with so many scars …" She shook her head. "I think I can understand it, to a certain degree. You don't want to have anything to do with them any more than necessary until everything is finalized. But I will also tell you this: When my father was arrested and sent to Azkaban, I felt he finally got what he deserved – first and foremost for the crimes he committed as a Death Eater, of course, but also for what he did to me. I would want to see them face the consequences of their actions, if I were in your shoes."
"But I am not you," Harry said quietly.
"No, you are not. And I won't argue with your decision. I merely wanted to let you know my personal thoughts on the matter."
Harry nodded. "Thank you. There's something else, I …" He raked his fingers through his hair. "I don't want to press charges, but I don't want to leave things as they are, either. Its – Dudley – He –" Harry took a deep breath. "I think they are abusing him, too."
Lynea blinked. "They are? Because to me it looked like he was a spoiled and pampered little brat."
"Oh, he is." Harry laughed bitterly. "Which has probably done him more damage than I realized before. I have actually been thinking about this for a while now … Well, for one, I don't think Dudley could ever survive on his own as he is now, but there's more – it's – Uncle Vernon hit him, too, sometimes. He wasn't starved, rather they overfed him, and he didn't live in a cupboard, but …
"There was this one time, when Uncle Vernon lost his mind because of all the Hogwarts letters and decided to drive off with all of us to somewhere he thought the letters wouldn't reach us. Dudley, of course, wanted to pack all his things, his television and his video games – and it's their fault he wanted to do that in the first place – and then Uncle Vernon hit him, because he was holding us up. They never taught him how to behave like a decent human being and for all the love they shower him with, I think they're going about it the wrong way."
"Is there a wrong way to love someone?" Lynea asked. "Or is that just not real love anymore?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. But I want to help Dudley. I just don't know how."
Lynea fell silent for a moment. "You … You want to help the boy that bullied you?"
"It's not his fault, though, is it?" Harry said quietly. "He's suffering, too. Everyone deserves a chance. You all told me that no one should suffer through abuse."
Lynea stared at him and then shook her head. "You are too kind, Harry. I will ask my mother about it, okay?"
Harry offered her a small smile. "Thank you. And … And I think I'm ready to – uhm – to –"
"Accept help?" Lynea offered gently. "For all the things you have been through?"
Harry nodded. "I thought I could handle it, but … Well, you saw what happened."
Lynea put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "And it was not your fault. You know that, right? We all understand why you reacted that way."
Harry nodded again and put a hand over his eyes. "I don't think Snape would ever actually hit me, but he was so angry and it reminded me of that one time I accidentally destroyed a porcelain vase with my magic and when he raised his hand – for a moment, I thought –" Harry shook himself.
"I know, Harry," Lynea said gently as she pulled him into a hug. "It's fine. It's not your fault. And you will be okay, yeah? We'll make sure of it."
Because, even though Harry seemed perfectly fine most of the time, Lynea knew more than anyone that this did not mean Harry was truly alright, that the things the Dursleys had done to him didn't affect him negatively in any way. Their situations were different, Harry was someone who felt so much more and in a much more vibrant and intense way that Lynea couldn't even begin to fathom what he must feel like inside. And Harry was kind, he wanted to help people regardless of whether he had the power to do so and regardless of whether they would do the same for him.
Lynea would never do that. Lynea would want revenge on those who hurt her and Lynea did not care about the well-being of people she wasn't friends with. It was one of the things her father had always criticized about her, the hypocrite. What did he presume to know about empathy, when he did not even view muggleborn witches and wizards as human beings with feelings?
Feelings, emotions, were the proof of being alive. A Necromancer, who skirted the line between the living and the dead, just sometimes found themself at a loss when it came to those things. And, in the end, Lynea was a Necromancer, was she not? Lémure or not, she practiced the Forbidden Arts and served Death, although she had not yet reached the point of truly worshipping Him.
It was a thought for another day. Right now, Harry needed help. Not her help, but help. And she would make sure that he received it.