P*T*E*N Page is up and running, slightly ahead of FFN and AO3. This pace will change to significantly ahead of FFN/AO3 once we reach the next hiatus point (at the end of the Durmstrang Arc). Visit P*T*E*N / 521dream if interested. Posted stories include A Flaw in Fate and Sacred Sight (A King's Path Rewrite/Remaster).
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The next chapter will be published the Saturday after next.
Harry Potter: A Flaw in Fate
The Desolations of Destiny
XVI. Matters of the Heart
Creak.
Harry stepped through the door, ignoring the many eyes that flicked his way. An empty desk loomed near the middle of the classroom.
Perfect.
"You're late, Mr. Potter," a blonde woman frowned from the front.
"I wasn't originally planning on coming," Harry explained, sinking into his seat, "I'm sorry for being a bit rushed."
Professor Haugen frowned.
"Well, I'm glad you've at least procured a late interest in my subject," she sighed before turning to the rest of the class, "Now, let's return to our review of last week's homework. Miss Marta, question seven, if you please . . ."
"Interesting seat choice," Cerise murmured from the desk next to him. She glanced around the room, her eyes falling on a number of empty desks that surrounded them.
"Hermione thinks so, too," Harry grinned. His eyes fell upon the bushy-haired brunette. She was watching from the very front, her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.
"International Magical Cooperation," Harry whispered loudly in explanation. Quiet snickers wafted through the classroom. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned away.
"She likes you," Cerise muttered curiously. Harry shook his head.
"Uh huh," he laughed, "She hasn't gone longer than two days without complaining about me in one way or another -"
"She likes it when you're assertive," Cerise continued, ignoring him, "She likes it when you speak your mind. I do, too, to be honest. It's quite charming."
Harry stared at her with disbelief.
"I'm flattered," he said at last, "Honestly, you've got me nearly blushing."
I suppose Emily would be proud, too.
Cerise rolled her eyes.
"You never told me about your trip to Godric's Hollow, you know," she reminded him, "At least - you did make it, right?"
"'Course I did."
"How'd you manage to apparate halfway across the continent?"
"Magic, obviously."
"Obviously," Cerise sighed, "Did it help you, you know, figure everything out?"
"In a way," Harry admitted, "I know what I've got to do now."
His thoughts drifted to the drawing he'd taken from the Scarlet Tower the night before.
The Resurrection Stone . . .
"Seeing them gave you that much clarity?" Cerise asked, surprised.
"Them and a bit else. I had a talk with a friend, too."
Cerise's eyebrows rose in disbelief.
"Is that what Dumbledore is, then? A friend?"
Harry froze, his stomach churning wildly. He turned sharply to face her.
"How'd you know it was Dumbledore?"
"Magic, obviously."
Harry stared at her. The girl sighed.
"He left a little bit after you did," she explained, "It's not like he had anywhere to be on Halloween."
"Clever," Harry nodded. Cerise smiled, "Yeah, it was him. We talked about life."
And death, too.
"Well, it seems to have put you in better spirits," Cerise noted, "You wouldn't have bothered attending a History class otherwise -"
"And why's that?"
Cerise grinned.
"I'm not Haugen, you know," she giggled softly, "You can't convince me you've suddenly sprouted a thirst for learning Magical History -"
"Shame," Harry yawned, "But, believe it or not, I came here to ask a few questions."
He paused, pulling a notebook out from his bag.
"I spent all night thinking them out," Harry whispered earnestly. He turned to her, "This period is a review one, right?"
Cerise nodded slowly.
"Well, when is she going to get to answering questions?"
"Someone's impatient."
"No, I'm Harry."
"You're not funny," Cerise snapped, "And for what it's worth, she'll get to your questions when she's done reviewing the homework. She's almost done, anyway."
Brilliant.
Harry waited as the class went through the last of the homework questions at an unbearably slow pace. At last, Professor Haugen turned her parchment over.
"As with most review periods, the rest of our time together is to be used for studying. If you have any questions, I'm more than willing to answer them."
Harry's hand shot into the air.
"Yes, Mr. Potter?"
"I had a few questions about the Global Wizarding War," Harry started carefully, "Specifically about Gellert Grindelwald."
Silence blanketed the room. Harry felt Cerise's eyes drilling holes into the side of his skull.
"Yes?"
"The magic he used," Harry began, his eyes sliding across the notes he'd written earlier, "Was there anything abnormally gifted about it?"
Professor Haugen frowned.
"Gellert Grindelwald is amongst the most gifted individuals across all time -"
"I mean more than that. Anything that should have been impossible."
The blonde-haired professor thought for a moment.
"There are rumors of supposed food conjuration," Haugen started. She trailed off as Harry shook his head.
That's just intent. I can do that, too.
"I meant impossibly powerful. The kind of power no one person could possibly have."
"A snowstorm Grindelwald conjured nearly fifty years ago still plagues the Austrian Alps," said Haugen eventually.
Harry looked up.
"Has it weakened?"
"No," Professor Haugen frowned, "Nor does it show any signs of stopping."
Harry thought for a moment, his heart racing.
That's not possible.
Only one plausible explanation showed itself.
The wand . . . he had the wand . . .
"What about his duel with Dumbledore?" Harry asked eventually, "How did Dumbledore win?"
"Albus Dumbledore tricked Grindelwald through the use of a few simple conjurations," Professor Haugen revealed. A small smile graced her features, "Fascinating, isn't it? Even the mighty can fall to the simplest of things."
Harry nodded slowly.
No. That doesn't make sense. Not when you're fighting Grindelwald . . .
He shook his head with confusion.
"Anything else, Mr. Potter?"
"Just one more question," Harry nodded, "What was Grindelwald's philosophy? What was he after?"
"Gellert Grindelwald was a strong advocate for magical supremacy. He believed that we, as magicals, are a superior species. He championed the ruling of witches and wizards over muggles."
"How close did he get to making that a reality?"
"Not far. Though he was able to spread his cause through almost the entire continent, he struggled to actually progress with his goals."
Harry nodded slowly, doubt settling in his chest once more.
"Thank you."
"You're more than welcome, dear," Professor Haugen smiled.
"Where the fuck did that come from?" Cerise whispered moments later, leaning closer.
"My brain, I suppose."
"Your brain seems doubtful," Cerise noted, "Don't believe what she told you?"
"I - I don't know."
It doesn't make sense. Grindelwald's nowhere near that incompetent. Not if he's anything like what Dumbledore treats him like.
"I suppose the bit about his goals makes sense," Harry admitted, frowning, "Everything I've seen about Grindelwald suggests he isn't much of a fan of muggles -"
His mind whirled, replaying the memory of Grindelwald and Dumbledore burning a sea of muggles to ash. Harry winced.
"- but I still thought he would've been more successful."
"It's probably a lot harder to do than either of us could imagine," Cerise said thoughtfully, "How would you have done it?"
"I wouldn't," Harry said firmly, "I'd probably champion the removal of blood purity, or something like that."
"How British of you," Cerise whispered, "As for Grindelwald, I suppose you'll have to wait a few months to get answers."
Harry stared at her, confused.
"Grindelwald might've been a student at Durmstrang, but he fought a war in France," Cerise explained, "There's no better place to learn about him than Beauxbatons."
Harry nodded slowly, tucking his notebook back into his bag.
Something to look forward to, then.
-(xXx)-
Destination, determination, deliberation . . .
Harry closed his eyes, picturing the ravine he'd visited with Gabrielle many nights ago.
Woosh.
His eyelids fluttered open. The base of the same large mountain stared back at him.
"Fuck," Harry laughed, cheering with excitement, "Holy fucking fuck -"
No crack. That was nearly silent.
He held out his hands, inspecting himself carefully. The smile slipped from his face as his gaze trailed down his left arm. It was now completely hairless.
"For fuck's sake . . ."
He turned, his eyes landing on a point in the distance. He could just barely make out the red paint of the Hogwarts Express.
Woosh.
The world twisted until Harry suddenly stood just before the gleaming scarlet engine. Harry held up his hands again. He sighed with relief upon seeing that nothing was missing.
I'm lucky I haven't lost anything worse than a fingernail.
He clambered up the steps to the main carriage, pulling the door open with a strong tug. Four faces turned to him.
"You never told us you could apparate!" Luna said from an armchair by the mantle. Harry frowned.
"You were watching me?"
"Me and Astoria both!" Luna nodded. Beside her, Astoria went bright red, "Why were you looking at your arms?"
"To see if he splinched," Pansy muttered speculatively from the far corner, "Did you?"
"Not on the way back. Lost a bit of arm hair on the first one, though."
"Aren't you worried you'll seriously hurt yourself?" Hermione asked, "What happens if you lose - lose an arm or something?"
"Don't say that," Astoria frowned from the mantle, "Tempting fate never ends well."
Hermione's lips curled.
"Dumbledore's here most of the time," Harry sighed, stepping past them, "He could sort me out in half a second -"
And if not, I can figure it out myself. It can't be that bad, Splinching.
A wave of warm air slipped over him as he stepped into his room. Harry nearly collapsed into his bed.
"I needed this -"
Something sat atop his mahogany desk. Harry held up his head, doing his best to make out whatever it was.
"Just fucking come here."
The envelope flew lazily across the room, slapping Harry across the face. He opened it carefully, reading:
'Dear Ickle Harry,
Meet me at our old dueling hideout on November 8th at noon. It's a Hogsmeade visit day for all the Hogwarts kiddies, now including you.
With love,
You-know-who (not actually, but you know who I am, right?)
P.S. Destination, Determination, Deliberation - don't forget!'
Harry groaned, his eyes clenched shut as he sank further into his pillow.
-(xXx)-
Harry rubbed tiredly at his eyes. The pages before him slowly began to blur.
This is pointless.
"Tempus," Harry muttered. He swore as ghostly numbers floated from the tip of his wand.
I'm late. Bella's going to kill me.
"Reading about Portkeys?" a voice called. Harry looked up, watching as the Weasley twins hobbled into an otherwise empty common room.
"Something like that," Harry muttered.
"Any particular reason?" George smiled, "Or are you just up to no good?"
Harry snorted.
"You've no idea," he said, pausing, "Actually, you probably do -"
He slid the book shut, tossing it onto a nearby table. It clattered softly against the weathered mahogany.
"Do you know what today is?"
"November eighth," Fred yawned, "Is that some muggle holiday?"
Harry shook his head.
"It's a Hogsmeade visit day."
The twins froze. Harry watched curiously as their eyes met for a fraction of a second.
"Is something wrong?"
"Not at all, little serpent," George grinned, "If anything, today's your lucky day."
"Yeah, and why's that?"
"Because you ran into us, obviously," Fred said, "Did you really think we were going to miss out on Hogsmeade?"
Harry stared at them.
"But - you two can make portkeys?"
"Fuck no," George laughed, "Well, I suppose we could, but we don't. We apparate."
"Across the fucking continent?"
"With our eyes closed and our hands behind our backs," Fred nodded, "You've no idea how useful it's been."
Harry's lips parted. He struggled to speak.
"And - wait, why'd you even bother learning to apparate in the first place?"
The Weasley twins stared at him as though he'd gone mad.
"To go places, obviously," Fred explained, "You think this is the first time we've wanted to be somewhere we're not meant to be?"
"How long have you two been able to do this?"
"Since our third year," George yawned. Harry watched as the tall boy tip-toed across the room, pulling a tin of biscuits from a nearby shelf, "We had to find an easy way into Diagon Alley, and portkeys were far too risky. The ministry might've caught on."
I feel like splinching yourself is slightly more dangerous than the Ministry stalking you.
"It was awful, mind you," George continued, "Absolutely awful. We had to do it one at a time - that way we could patch each other up. Took years for us to really get the hang of it."
"Worth it, though," Fred muttered thoughtfully, "I mean, how many people do you know that can hop across continents?"
George nodded.
"It's bloody insane what you can accomplish when you want it enough," he agreed.
"But we're rambling," Fred's voice was sharp. He leaned forward slightly, taking a biscuit from his brother, "If you want to come with us, you'd best hurry up. We've a meeting at noon -"
"You had a meeting forty-five minutes ago?" Harry frowned.
"Different time zones," George reminded him. Harry bit back a curse, "We've still got fifteen minutes."
"When are you leaving?"
"Now," Fred said, grinning, "Feeling up to a bit of mischief?"
Harry smiled back.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
The twins laughed, shuffling through the common room and toward the exit door. Harry followed them out of the Hogwarts Express and onto the snow-covered grounds.
"Any reason we're apparating from outside the train?"
"We're not sure what sort of magic the train's got," Fred whispered, "Best not to risk Dumbledore finding out."
They waded through the snow, eventually stopping at a point some fifty meters from the train. The Weasley twins held out their hands.
"You'd better hold on tight," George muttered, "Last thing we need is for you to end up in the Sahara desert."
"Is that likely?" Harry asked nervously.
"Nah," Fred assured him, "It's only happened a handful of times over the last few years -"
"What?"
But before he could do anything, the world began to blur. Harry felt as though he was being squeezed into a long, thin tube, his eyes rolling into the back of his head -
Crack.
Harry fell face-first into a sea of snow. He wiped the cold ice from his face as he rose to his feet.
"You all good?" one of the Weasley twins asked as he straightened up, "Not missing anything?"
Harry held his hands up to his eyes. Everything seemed perfectly intact.
"I'm all good."
"Brilliant!" Fred laughed, "Three for three, all clear for a day out at Hogsmeade!"
"Got something fun planned?" Harry asked, smiling.
"Fun's subjective," Fred told him, "We've got a meeting with Lee Jordan and . . . actually, don't worry about it."
Harry stared at the twins.
"Not doing something illegal, are you?"
"Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies."
"Fair enough," Harry shrugged, "How long have I got, anyway?"
"An hour," said Fred quickly, "That is, of course, if you want to leave with us -"
"It's not like I've got my own way back," Harry snorted.
"I'm sure you could work it out," said George thoughtfully, "It's like that muggle saying dad loves - 'if there's a will, there's a way.'"
"Anyway, just meet us back here at one," Fred said seriously, "And I swear if we get in trouble because you've gotten lost -"
"I know my way around Hogsmeade," Harry waved them off, "I'm much more worried about getting recognized."
The Weasley twins nodded, tossing identical hoods over their heads.
"I don't envy you," Fred muttered, "You'd better make sure you aren't seen by a teacher, mind you - students alone will already be enough of a problem."
"Imagine if Snape caught one of us," George balked, "That'd put him in a good mood all the way until Christmas."
He shook the thought from his head, blinking wildly.
"We'd best be off," George said finally. The twins waved at Harry as they hurried off, "Stay out of trouble!"
Harry smiled back, watching as their retreating forms became little more than dots in the distance. He threw a hood of his own over his head.
Time to find Bella, then.
Harry set off. The path to the Shrieking Shack was windier than he remembered. Harry ducked his head as he squeezed through the crowd, doing his very best not to press too hard against anyone in particular. Never before had Hogsmeade been so crowded.
At last, the Shrieking Shack loomed before him. Harry held out his wand, approaching it carefully.
"You're late."
Harry frowned, waving his wand gently. Ghostly numbers soared into the air.
"Only by a minute."
A woman emerged from the ruins. Ornate features were hidden beneath a heavy hood.
"A minute could mean all the difference in the world," Bellatrix admonished, frowning. Her lips curved upwards as she stepped closer, "Look at you - you're taller!"
"I am?" Harry frowned, looking down. He nearly jumped as Bellatrix wrapped her hands around him, tucking his head into the crook of her neck.
"I missed you," she said, pressing her lips gently against his hood, "We haven't had a proper conversation in a while."
"It's only been a month," Harry said, "Besides, I thought I'd see you at Durmstrang."
"I go where Master tells me to," Bella sighed, pulling away.
"And she lets you go where you want to go," Harry noted, "Not that it matters. There's no way Voldemort wouldn't send you up North to keep an eye on me."
Bellatrix frowned, her eyes sliding carefully down from his face all the way to his toes.
"You know something," she muttered, "You're speaking like you know something again."
Countless visions of Bellatrix and Voldemort replayed in Harry's head. One in particular lingered - the very one he'd seen whilst flying with Krum.
"Maybe I do."
Bellatrix pursed her lips.
"Even if I was a Durmstrang, you still wouldn't have seen me," she said, "I still have your cloak, remember?"
Harry nodded slowly, his thoughts drifting to the images in the Scarlet Tower. His jaw clenched.
The Cloak of Invisibility . . . maybe . . .
"You'll have to give that back, you know," he said seriously, "The moment you no longer absolutely need it, I want to have it back."
"But why?" Bella giggled, "It's just a load of silvery string. Pretty, perhaps -"
"It was my father's."
The smile fell from Bellatrix's face. She nodded solemnly.
"Of course."
An odd silence hovered heavily in the air. Harry broke it a second later.
"There are more people in Hogsmeade than I remember."
Bellatrix smiled.
"They're here for you," she grinned, "The entire village is booked out by people who want to watch you in the third task."
"But - the first task hasn't even happened yet!"
Bellatrix shrugged.
"People started making deals with some of the Hogsmeade Inns," she explained, "They stay from now until June, they reserve a place for the third task. Gives the Inns more galleons than they can possibly imagine, and it keeps the duffers happy, too."
"So there's more people around to catch us, basically," Harry surmised, "Why'd you want to meet here again?"
Bellatrix bounced happily.
"A test, obviously. You failed!"
"I - What?"
Harry jumped back as Bellatrix's crooked wand rose. He held his wand up to her throat.
"I'm not going to hurt you, idiot," Bella snapped impatiently, "Point that thing away -"
"Tell me what you're going to do."
"But it's a surprise!" Bellatrix pouted, "Come on, won't you let me have this one?"
Harry stared at her. He sighed irritably, lowering his wand.
"Fine. Hurry up."
Bellatrix clapped excitedly, pointing her wand at his chest. She quickly cleared her throat.
"Iterdamnum!"
A hot sensation curled up in Harry's chest. He glanced at Bellatrix, confused.
"We used to use that during the war," she explained helpfully, "Stops people from being able to side-along apparate."
Harry closed his eyes, his heart sinking in his chest.
"Bella -"
"It's not my fault you cheated," Bellatrix frowned, "You weren't supposed to use the Weasley twins - they're only allowed to patch you up."
"If I tried apparating across the damn continent I'd end up badly splinching myself," said Harry seriously, "I could barely apparate around the Durmstrang grounds without splinching -"
"You were doing just fine," Bella assured him, "You just need to be pushed. You've no idea just what you're capable of. You're lucky you've got me, really - who else would push you to be great?"
Harry sighed heavily.
"Is that the only reason you brought me here? To force me to apparate?"
"Of course not!" Bellatrix looked offended, "I missed you, you muppet!"
She grabbed him by the hand, pulling two bottles from the insides of her robes.
"We've got a long day of fun ahead of us," she told him happily, "But we'll have to change a thing or two first -"
"Is that Polyjuice Potion?" Harry asked, his nose scrunching with distaste as Bellatrix popped one of the bottles open.
"You recognize it?"
"I caught some kids brewing it in my second year," he explained, pinching his nose, "I'll recognize that stench of rotten eggs until the day I die."
"Well, this one's for you," Bella said, handing him a bottle filled with light blue potion, "And mine is for me. Best to chug it down."
Harry closed his eyes, holding the bottle to his lips. He drank it all in one giant gulp.
That didn't taste as bad as I'd have thought.
A sudden pressure wrapped tight around his body. Harry felt himself shrink in on himself, his features bending and contorting into a face that wasn't his -
"Aren't you adorable?"
Harry frowned, conjuring a mirror with a wave of his wand. The face of a five-year-old boy stared back at him.
"I look a lot like myself," Harry noticed, eyeing the jet-black hair and bright green eyes, "Did you steal a hair from my clone or something?"
Bellatrix giggled.
"Of course not. You look like yourself because you are yourself."
Harry shook his head in confusion.
"Sorry?"
"You were smelling my drink," Bella explained, waving a large bottle before his face, "Yours was just an Aging Potion."
"Why?"
"I've got to remember it's you, don't I?" Bellatrix smiled, "Otherwise I'd be a lot less pleasant. I'd probably hex you if you if you annoyed me too much -"
"You already do that."
"- and besides, you look so cute," Bellatrix giggled, pinching his cheeks. Harry groaned, "Aren't you excited for your day out with Auntie Bella?"
"Grinning from cheek to cheek."
Bellatrix smiled. Harry watched as she held up her bottle of Polyjuice Potion, downing it quickly. Her features shifted, her hair straightening as it grew lighter.
"You're right," Harry yawned, frowning at his high-pitched voice, "I like you better when you're wearing your own face."
Bellatrix rolled her eyes.
"You'd best shrink your robes before we set off," Bellatrix laughed, eyeing his oversized robes, "They're a tad bit of a giveaway."
Harry glanced down, frowning. His robes were easily twice as large as his shrunken body. He changed that with a flick of his wand, eliciting an approving nod from Bellatrix.
"Come," she called, pulling his minuscule palm into her's again, "We're going to the Three Broomsticks. It's been ages since I've eaten there."
Harry struggled to keep up with her, his small legs working overtime to match her pace.
"Whose hair did you use, anyway?" he asked curiously as they made their way into Hogsmeade.
"A woman who lives a short while away from Durmstrang," Bellatrix muttered, "We won't have to worry about running into her today."
Harry nodded. His gaze wandered through a bustling Hogsmeade, bright green eyes jumping from one building to the next. They eventually came to rest on a large wooden inn.
"Do you think they'll let me in?" Harry asked, staring up at the Three Broomsticks, "It is a bar, you know."
"It's an inn," Bellatrix corrected with a frown, "Of course they'll let you in."
She strode up to the entrance, wiping her snow-covered boots on a mat by the door. A blast of warm air blanketed them as she tugged the door open.
"That's loads better," Harry sighed, loosening the neckline of his robes, "I thought the cold was going to kill me -"
"Quiet," Bella hissed, dragging him through the crowd and toward a booth along the furthest wall, "Five-year-olds don't speak like that. They spit and scream and mumble in jumbled-up English."
Harry forced his lips into an apologetic frown.
"Me sorry, Belly."
Bellatrix flicked him atop the head.
"If you call me Belly ever again I'll kill you."
"Belly mean, Belly nasty -"
"Shut up and get in the blasted booth," Bellatrix half-carried him over, dumping him into his seat. Harry grinned as she sat across from him, waving off the few people who turned to watch them, "You're reminding me why I never had children."
"I thought you liked me?"
"Don't flatter yourself," Bella snapped, "As far as unripe humans go, you're tolerable."
"I reckon there aren't many people you like more than me," Harry grinned, leaning closer, "Voldemort doesn't count -"
"I was married, you know."
"By choice?" Harry asked uncertainly. Bellatrix stared at him, unimpressed.
"Of course not," she frowned, "Mother and Father shipped me off the moment 'ol Sirius did a runner."
"To a Lestrange," Harry said thoughtfully, "What was he like?"
"Pathetic," Bellatrix frowned, "A worthless rat with equally worthless ideals."
"Like what?" Harry asked, curious, "Surely it's just the same pureblood rubbish -"
"Partly. If you and Master didn't exist, I might even believe it -"
"I'm included?" Harry asked, grinning with surprise, "Belly, you shouldn't have - ouch!"
He rubbed his shoulder, waving away the few people who glanced over. Bellatrix popped a morsel of complimentary bread into her mouth.
"You're lucky you're cute," Bellatrix frowned, "Don't get used to it. It'll wear off in a few hours."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll keep that in mind," Harry sighed, "What about what you were saying?"
"About what?"
"Purebloods, obviously."
Bellatrix sighed, ripping another chunk of bread from the loaf.
"Blood matters. It does," she said, catching the dubious look that spread across Harry's childlike face, "But it doesn't beat talent. Nothing does. Master proved that - hell, even the old coot Dumbledore proved it. One day, you will, too."
"Thank you," said Harry sincerely, reaching for a strand of bread. Bellatrix slapped his hand away.
"Welcome to the Three Broomsticks!" Harry jumped, turning to the blonde witch who had popped up by their booth. She smiled kindly at him, "Sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to scare you -"
"I'm not scared," Harry frowned. Bella snickered.
"Is there anything I can get the two of you, seeing as you can't get it yourself from the bar?"
"I can't?" Harry turned to Bellatrix, "Why can't I -"
"You're only five, angel," Bella gave him a pointed look, "You can't even reach the bar yet."
Oh. Right.
"Er - what do you have?"
"Cherry syrup and Gillywater."
"What about Butterbeer?"
"That's got a little bit of alcohol in it, dear," the waitress said kindly, "It might be too much."
"It's fine," Bellatrix said, "If he can't stomach it, I'll drink the rest."
"If you're sure," the waitress nodded quickly. Beside her, a hovering quill and notepad took down her order, "Can I get you anything else?"
"A pint of Firewhisky, please."
"Got it," the waitress smiled, "I'll have that out in just a moment."
And she wandered off, shuffling through the crowd and behind the bar.
"I haven't been here in years, you know," Bellatrix said thoughtfully, "I still remember the last time -"
"Were you a student back then?" Harry asked. Bellatrix shook her head.
"Nineteen seventy-six. About four years before you were born," the woman told him, "It was during the middle of a raid. I got hungry."
Harry stared at her, bewildered.
"So you just stopped in for a bite to eat?"
"Pretty much," Bella nodded, "You should've seen the bloke who tried serving me - trembling and all. I had to triple-check they hadn't poisoned my food."
"Was Voldemort mad you weren't fighting?"
Bellatrix laughed.
"Not even a little," Bella smiled, "She was fighting Dumbledore. You won't believe what she managed -"
"She Obliviated him," Harry remembered aloud, "Erased herself from his mind."
Bellatrix stared at him. The smile vanished from her face.
"You're speaking in certainties again," she frowned, "How do you know?"
"Dumbledore told me. At the end of my second year, after I fought Emily."
Bellatrix nodded slowly, pulling another strand of bread toward her lips.
"I suppose that makes sense," she muttered, "I'll let that one slide."
Harry rolled his eyes.
"Nice ring, by the way," Bellatrix added offhandedly. Harry's eyes flicked to the silver band wrapped tight around his finger, "It suits you."
Harry toyed with the ring, twirling it uncomfortably.
"I was wondering if you'd recognize it," he frowned, "It was from before your time -"
"Aunty Walburga was in the Knights of Walpurgis, you know," Bella told him, "They came before the Death Eaters. Never liked her much, but Master said she had dirt on everyone -"
"And she told you?"
"She had one," Bellatrix shrugged, "Showed it to me ages ago. It's gone now. Broke in a fight. Most of them did."
All but one . . .
"She knows you have it," Bellatrix told him, "She's known for a while. She wasn't sure it'd even work."
"Neither was I," Harry admitted, "It was made for her, wasn't it?"
Bellatrix nodded.
"She doesn't mind, though" she assured him, "You're free to use it as much as you please."
"I'm glad I have her blessing. I dunno what I would've done without it -"
His voice cut off. Harry shook his head, staring at a booth on the other side of the bar -
"Your drinks," the waitress announced, presenting a glass of Butterbeer and Firewhiskey to the pair, "Enjoy!"
"Thanks," Harry muttered, absentmindedly pulling his glass toward him. Bellatrix glared at him.
"Come on, spit it out -"
"I know that girl," Harry whispered, "She's from Beauxbatons. But . . ."
Harry leaned closer, watching as Cerise lifted a glass of butterbeer to her lips. She scooted further into her booth, making room for a girl decked in Slytherin robes.
"Cerise Rosier," Bellatrix noted thoughtfully, "Wouldn't have expected to see her here."
"You know her?" Harry frowned.
"She's from one of the two most powerful families in France," Bella shrugged, "Her mother practically controls wizarding France."
"I - she is?"
Bellatrix sighed.
"You really should do your own research, you know," she reprimanded him, "You'd be surprised by what you might uncover."
"I know a bit about her," Harry defended half-heartedly, "She's a decent duelist."
Bellatrix's head turned sharply.
"Did you fight her?"
"Yup."
"Who won?"
Harry gave her a pointed look.
"Who do you think?"
"It better have been you," Bellatrix warned seriously, "I didn't waste weeks of my life just for you to get diced up by some Frenchie -"
"Of course I won," Harry snapped, "And I appreciate the vote of confidence, by the way."
Shaking his head, Harry glanced back at the booth. He watched as the blonde girl leaned closer, whispering something in Cerise's ear.
"You know her too?" Bellatrix asked indifferently.
"Grace Weitts," Harry nodded slowly, "Sixth year, I think."
"So you're not completely blind," Bellatrix yawned. Harry turned to her.
"Is her family powerful too?"
"Not particularly. They are, however, well known for remaining outwardly neutral in most matters."
"Outwardly neutral?"
"We're all playing with a different hand, aren't we?" Bella leaned closer, "Some of us just keep our cards closer to our chests."
Harry nodded, lost in thought. His eyes flicked back to the booth.
"You know," said Bellatrix eventually, pushing her pint of Firewhisky aside, "If Rosier's here, she can probably apparate -"
Harry rolled his eyes, taking another swig of butterbeer.
"- so why can't you?"
"I don't think she can," Harry said, his eyes falling upon the medallion hanging from Cerise's neck. It was just barely sticking out from beneath her robes.
"Well, if you aren't sure it's likely best to assume the worst. She's got you beat, hasn't she?"
Harry sighed, perking up as Cerise and Grace rose from their seats. He watched as they slowly approached the exit.
"She's leaving now," he muttered, standing up, "Why don't we find out for sure?"
Taking one last sip from his butterbeer, Harry hurried through the crowded inn and toward the door. Bellatrix followed hastily in his wake.
"You ought to give a bit more of a warning before you run off like that!" Bellatrix hissed as they barrelled out of the door. Harry ignored her, watching as Cerise and Grace whispered to each other across the street.
"You reckon they know each other well?" Harry asked.
"Probably. Wouldn't be meeting alone if they didn't."
"I thought so too," Harry admitted, "I've seen them speaking before. At Hogwarts, after one of the feasts."
They watched as Weitts turned around, walking back toward Hogwarts. Cerise withdrew her medallion, held it up to her lips, and vanished in a whirl of light.
"I told you," Harry gloated, turning back to Bellatrix, "Who's got me beat, huh?"
"The brat by the newspaper stand definitely does," Bellatrix muttered, "He's talking to your girl, isn't he?"
Harry blinked wildly, spinning around. His eyes jumped from one person to the next.
"What newspaper stand . . ."
He trailed off. Standing beside a building nearly a hundred meters away was none other than Daphne Greengrass. She leaned against the wall, leaning close to a taller boy hidden beneath his hood. Harry felt his heart quicken.
Who . . .
"Didn't lock things down with mini Ophelia, did you?" Bellatrix frowned, "That's okay. You're too young for all that, you know . . ."
Harry ignored her. He stared firmly at the boy, struggling to recognize them.
Take off the fucking hood already.
The boy leaned down, whispering something in Daphne's ear. Her eyes widened with excitement. Discomfort roiled in Harry's chest.
"She's seen someone," Bellatrix whispered, "Who's she seen - where's she running off to?"
They watched as Daphne ran toward someone out of sight. The boy leaning along the building coughed gently, brushing snow from his gloves as he looked around. Harry watched as the boy's breath fogged up in the cold air.
Look at me. Let me see your face.
He turned. Harry almost imagined the boy's gaze falling upon his face.
Who . . .
The boy glanced between Harry and Bellatrix, quickly straightening up. For a moment, it seemed as though he were wondering whether or not to approach, and then -
"What did you do?" Bellatrix snapped furiously, "Why is he coming - move, now!"
"No," Harry frowned, "I'm not moving."
I want to see his face.
The crowd parted, and suddenly, the boy stood before them. Harry watched as his fingers wrapped tight around his hood, lowering it to his neck.
"You look stupid," Nott murmured. Harry almost sighed with relief.
"Thought someone else was chatting up Daphne, huh?" Theo snickered, "Don't lie, I saw the look on your face."
"Fuck off," Harry snapped. Theo grinned as his high voice squeaked, "What were you doing, anyway?"
"Waiting for Tracey," Nott frowned, "She's visiting. Daphne made me wait until she arrived before I could go book shopping on my own."
He stood on his tip-toes, looking at something far above Harry's head.
"I'm probably free now. Yup, they're waving goodbye right now."
Harry turned. A sea of protruding chests and long legs blocked his vision.
"They are?"
"One sec," They murmured, withdrawing his wand, "Wingardium Leviosa."
Harry gently rose into the air. He watched as two teenage girls waved in the distance. Harry waved back.
"They won't recognize you, idiot," Nott reminded him. Sure enough, puzzled smiles covered both Daphne and Tracey's faces.
"It's the thought that counts," Harry frowned.
"I'm sure Daphne will agree. Especially when she finds out you were in Hogsmeade and didn't even bother to say hello."
Shit.
Harry dropped back to the floor, hurriedly straightening up his robes.
"Oh no you don't, loveboy!" Bellatrix snapped, "If you want to see her, you'd best put more work into your apparition practice. You can visit her next time."
"But I want to visit her today -"
"Silencio," Bellatrix flicked her wrist, sealing Harry's lips together, "You're visiting her another day, and that's final. My potion's about to run out, anyway."
She ruffled his hair, ignoring the mumbled protests that struggled to escape his lips. Nott frowned at her.
"You're who I think you are, aren't you?"
Bellatrix smiled wickedly.
"Depends on who you're thinking of."
"Long black hair. Curly. Supposedly insane," Nott muttered, "That ringing any bells?"
"Bells," Bellatrix smiled, pinching Harry's cheek as she glanced down at him, "Much better than Belly, isn't it?"
Harry glared at her. The woman ignored him, straightening back up and glancing at the boy opposite her.
"I'm exactly who you're thinking of," she grinned, "The one and only. What do you think of that?"
"A lot of things. Nothing I'm stupid enough to say to your face."
"Clever boy," Bellatrix nodded, "You're certainly smarter than most."
Nott frowned. His eyes flicked down to Harry, meeting his gaze.
"I trust you," he said earnestly, crouching down, "I really do. But I can't pretend to understand what you're thinking."
Harry stared back at him, delving through his eyes. He forced a single thought into the boy's mind:
Neither can I.
Nott's eyes widened. Harry watched as he straightened up, brushing snow from his gloves again.
"Well, I'm off," Nott announced loudly before turning to Harry, "I'll see you soon."
And with that, he spun around, disappearing off into the crowd. Harry felt the Silencing Charm slowly wilt away.
"You've gotten better at Legilimency than I thought," Bellatrix frowned, "When'd you learn to project your thoughts?"
"How'd you know?" Harry squeaked irritably. Bellatrix rolled her eyes.
"If I wasn't sure before, I am now," she snapped, "It was the boy. His reaction gave it away."
Harry nodded tiredly, watching as Bellatrix lazily waved her wand. Ghostly numbers appeared again.
"Time's almost out," she muttered, "I'd best be on my way."
"What about me?" Harry snapped, "I haven't forgotten about the side-along apparition curse, you know."
"Good. You can use it as motivation to get home."
"And what if I splinch myself?"
"With that mindset, you will," Bellatrix pouted, "Not that it matters. Those red-headed demons have been apparating for ages. I used to watch them pop about Hogsmeade all of last year. They could put you back together in a jiffy."
Harry groaned, sighing in defeat.
"Until we meet again, little angel," Bellatrix giggled, kissing him on the cheek. She disappeared with a faint crack.
Time to find the Weasleys, then.
Harry set off, hurrying down the streets and back toward the point where the Weasleys twins had left him. He checked the time every few minutes, watching as the numbers slipped closer and closer to one -
"What the fuck," Fred said at last. Harry slowed to a stop, "Why the hell do you look like - like -"
"Like I'm five?" Harry finished for him, "Aging potion. Didn't want to be recognized."
The twins nodded, mildly impressed.
"We should probably wait for that to wear off," George decided, "Best not to discover just how poorly aging potions mix with apparition."
"About that," Harry began grudgingly, "How bad do you reckon it would be if I tried apparating back on my own?"
The twins stared curiously at him.
"You've apparated before, haven't you?"
"Around the Durmstrang Grounds, yeah."
"How'd it go?"
Harry shrugged.
"Fine, I guess. Never really lost anything more than a few hairs."
Fred nodded slowly.
"I say we try it. No better way to learn."
Harry stared at them.
"You're alright with it?"
"Why the fuck wouldn't we be?" George asked, "That's how we learned, you know. Can't get better if you don't risk fucking up along the way."
"Couldn't have said it better myself," Fred applauded, "Now, i should probably head back first -"
"Swell idea," George agreed, "I'll pick up the rear."
They watched as Fred disapparated with a loud crack. Harry waved his wand over his robes, returning them back to their normal size.
"Smart," said George approvingly, "I don't think I'd ever recover from seeing your naked bollocks rip right through those little clothes."
"Yeah, yeah," Harry waved his wand, watching the numbers that floated upwards. He braced his muscles expectantly.
Now.
His body tenses. Harry felt his muscles spasm as pressure wrapped around his form, twisting him in every direction. After nearly a minute, he felt as though he had been stretched to double his height.
"Back to normal," George nodded, "You ready?"
Harry nodded nervously.
Destination, determination, deliberation . . .
"Any tips?" he asked, breathing heavily.
"It's like any other magic, apparition," George told him, "You've got to want it. So long as you want it enough, the distance doesn't mean a thing."
Right.
Harry's thoughts swirled. They shifted from Hogsmeade to Durmstrang before finally settling on Daphne's retreating face.
I don't really want to go.
"Three . . . two . . . one -"
He turned, and the world vanished into nothingness. A searing pain shot through his left shoulder. Harry struggled, gasping for breath -
Crack.
"He splinched," a voice said, "Did you bring his arm?"
The other boy nodded. Harry stared blankly at them, their faces becoming little more than jumbled messes. His entire body felt as though it were on fire. Incomprehensive noises escaped his lips as Harry roared in agony.
"Don't worry," one of the voices whispered, "We'll take care of everything. Fred?"
The vague outline of the other boy nodded. Harry watched as the blur rose to its feet, pointing a wand at his face -
"Stupefy."
A beam of red light hurled toward his face, and what little Harry could see vanished from sight.
