CHAPTER 2
21 June 1992 - Gasr Giránghedi - 11:41AM
"And with the blessed tongue of Heka from the Time Before, I speak upon thee:
May the length of your love be as everlasting as the days of your lives.
May the road always rise to meet you, and your paths come together and remain as one.
May the wind fan your sails,
May the flame of the sun be the light that shines upon your face,
May the water that falls from the sky nurture the land of your home,
And may the soil of the earth be the foundation from which your brood flourishes."
The ancient priestess wove her wand - nine inch acacia with a triple strand of Zouwu mane hair - across the clasped hands of Libra and Tom, as the two stared adoringly into each other's eyes. Threads of golden light sprung from her wand, wrapping around the couple's hands and traveling across their arms, before settling into a mutual glow across their hearts.
"You are now One in heart, mind, body, and in soul, and One you will always remain." The golden threads over their hands settled into their skin. "You may now kiss."
And with that, the couple leaned into each other and exchanged a tender kiss while their audience interrupted into applause. Behind the priestess on raised floating daises were the lord chieftains of the ten tribes of El Jezeera, all whom served as the primary witnesses of magical unions befitting of the olde ways. Among them was a beaming Lord Haseeb who clapped joyously at the union, a move mimicked by almost everyone in the hall.
The entire wedding party was currently in the Ceremony Hall of the Gasr Giránghedi, the millennia-old castle which had served as a sacred ceremonial site for the ancient Berbers who'd first occupied the land. Circular in size, the room featured a panoramic view composed of multiple hexagonal-shaped windows that allowed the light of the day to pour in unfettered. The walls and floor were inlaid with a series of colorful mosaic tiles that depicted animated scenes of history long since past, lightly twinkling as they reflected the light of day. The center of the hall featured a hexagon-shaped stage covered in colorful mosaic tiles, which had somehow arranged themselves into a shape of a libra scale whose pillar was protectively entwined with a massive green serpent. Six spire-like arrangements sprung from each side of the stage, which had been fashioned into stone pews to seat the various assembled guests.
Tom and Libra parted with besotted expressions, lightly chuckling when they heard Sirius' wolf whistles. A moment later, the couple descended from the stage down the aisle (already covered with charmed blossoms courtesy of the now-giggling flower girls) as glittering bits of confetti fell from the ceiling. The guests cheers increased in volume as they all made their way out of the hall. The large crowd soon gathered outside into the massive courtyard, with many singing and clapping their congratulations as they gathered around the couple in a massive circle. Tom and Libra shared another kiss as the crowd's cheer grew thunderous. The glowing groom gently spun his blushing bride in a circle, causing her gossamer veil to encircle them both. Their joined hands took a hold of the veil and exchanged a whisper, before they suddenly disappeared with a soft pop.
Taking that as their cue, the assembled guests each took out their custom time-stamped Portkey - an embroidered handkerchief bearing the crest of the Kolumbiko family - and with a final cheer, they were off to the wedding reception.
Malfoy Manor - 2:17PM
A groaning Draco slowly slid down his closed bedroom door, barely resisting the urge to scream in frustration. Lunch at Summerisles had been a particularly tense affair; his mother and father were on tense icy terms, exchanging less than subtle barbed insults at each other. He and Theo had been made to sit through the entire affair, though the young Nott had seemed to handle the situation considerably better than the very embarrassed Heir Malfoy. Draco had spent the entirety of the lunch cringing, gritting his teeth, and tightly gripping his silverware to keep from yelling in anger at both his parents. Theo, on the other hand, had somehow been the image of perfect calm; he'd not only been able to make small talk with both Lucius and Narcissa, he'd done so to diffuse the worst of the tension, deftly keeping the actual adults from braying each other with their luncheon knives. Draco had never been more happy to see a waiter bring a check than he had at the end of that meal.
Now ensconced in the familiar comfort of his suite, Draco leaned his head against his door and took a few deep breaths, going through some Occludic meditative exercises to calm his mind. Since his return for summer holidays, he'd had multiple lessons with mind arts specialists Mr. X. and Mr. Y. They'd come recommended by his godfather Severus, as a means to impart some 'specialized Occlumency training' he'd believed Draco very much required. Through their combined tutelage, Draco was quickly developing the necessary shields required to create the foundation needed to become a Level One, which he was expected to achieve before the start of Second Year.
As his mind calmed and whirring thoughts slowed, Draco mentally focused on one of his many problems. Narcissa Malfoy had been uncomfortably…clingy, more so than usual. She'd insisted on keeping Draco close to her at all times, at times even attempting to bribe her son with gifts and treats to monopolize all of his time. Draco hadn't been so easily swayed as he would have been before, something Narcissa had unhappily picked up on. She'd been a lot more snippy than usual, with Lucius bearing the brunt of her mercurial irritation (several more priceless China had been ruined). She was preparing to spend the rest of her summer at the family's posh country villa in Chinon. Lord Malfoy was pleased to be rid of her, and quite frankly, Draco couldn't blame the man.
Slipping into a Phase Two meditative state, Draco's breath evened, though that didn't last for long as the thoughts of his 'Potter Problem' slowly drifted into mind. His jaw ticked unconsciously. The sting of his defeat still smarted terribly, and try as he might, he could not overcome the massive bruise to his ego. He had been completely blindsided by the entire 'Prince of Slytherin' debacle, and he still had the occasional nightmare where his throat was ripped out by an angry adder under Harry Potter's command. And to make matters worse, he still was magically barred from ever speaking about the entire debacle, even with his own father who'd once held the mantle! Draco's rage at his humiliation warred with his desire for revenge against Potter, all levied against the seemingly staggering weight of the Unbreakable Vow.
A sudden flash of Hermione Granger's terrified visage flashed behind his eyes, and in spite of himself, Draco flinched. Threatening the girl and Nott had seemed like such a good idea at the time, especially knowing how much they meant to precious little Potter. He'd been surprised at himself for taking it as far as he had, but Mother had made it sound like it was such a good plan.
"Pfft, so much for that," he snorted contemptuously. Not only had it incurred Harry Potter's vengeful wrath, he's soon come to the realization that he'd almost killed someone. Granted she was a mere mudbl- muggleborn, she still could have died and it all would have been his fault. The thought of causing a death weighed surprisingly heavy on his already full conscience, and he shuddered to think of what may have happened if either Urquhart's or Vaisey's levitation spell had failed to hold. Oddly enough, part of him was glad that she'd seemingly taken his forced apology in stride.
"Y-y-young Master? Is everything being alright with you?" The shakingly timid voice of Dobby rang out, causing Draco to give a small smile. He was convinced that Father had dispatched the elf to keep a closer eye on him, and for once, Draco could be somewhat appreciative of the extra attention. His first incident with Dobby as a child had resulted in him receiving his first ever punishment from Father; Draco had thought it amusing to get the elf to punish himself (by banging his head against the wall repeatedly) for accidentally spilling his young master's milk. Lucius had not only yelled at his son for his 'unconscionable behavior most unbefitting for a Malfoy Heir', he'd taken away all of his toys and canceled his play dates, grounding him for almost a month. Suffice to say Draco hadn't bothered the house elf since.
"Everything is alright with me Dobby," replied Draco, smiling tiredly. "A spot of tea perhaps?" Dobby smiled genially.
"Very good young master!"
The Madame Milburga School of Etiquette - 3:08PM
Hermione carefully set aside her paintbrush, quietly admiring her work. This was her sixth lesson at Madame Milburga's, and she was very much enjoying her experience. Today's class was a painting lesson with Jeanne Degas, the daughter of the lesser-known Jean-Claude Degas, the magical portraiture artist and cousin of his famed muggle counterpart. They were, of course, learning about French impressionism, the delicate and soft painting style 'perfectly suited for burgeoning young ladies' as per Madame Milburga's insistence. Staring appreciatively at her work, Hermione was quite proud of her small painted ballerina, who twirled around adorably in thanks to the magical properties of the paint she'd used.
A disdainful snort to her right alerted the young muggleborn of some very unwanted attention. "A ballerina? Quite…pedestrian isn't it Granger?" Pansy Parkinson's snooty voice sounded unpleasantly in Hermione's ear, and she fought against every natural urge to roll her eyes. Pansy was being, well, herself, though she'd surprisingly refrained from using any slurs, whispered or otherwise. Madame Milburga ran a very tight ship, citing that the use of such uncouth language was only befitting of the lowliest street tramp. Anyone speaking in that manner would be summarily kicked out of her class. As such, Parkinson had been on her best behavior ever since. Even more surprisingly, the Slytherin witch was quite gifted in the arts, a rather skilled calligrapher and sketch artist (much to Hermione's consternation). But, today had been a wonderful day and she wouldn't let the annoying Slytherin witchling get the better of her.
"Naturally you would think it pedestrian Parkinson," she replied just as snootily. "If you must know, Jeanne's muggle ancestor Edgar Degas was famous for his impressionist paintings of ballerinas, producing well over 1500 works that comprise well over half of his entire oeuvre." A brief wave of silence met her statement before Pansy sneered most impressively before looking away. Unseen to Hermione, Madame Milburga nodded approvingly, most impressed with the young muggleborn's intellectual aptitude. She'd soaked up the lessons like a sponge, and in spite of the provocations of some of the more…traditionalist students, the young witch was thriving.
"I think your picture is…nice." A quiet and flat voice sounded to Hermione's left, causing the young Gryffindor to gently smile. Amaryllis 'Amy' Wilkes was a bit of an outcast in the class, but so far she'd been polite, if not somewhat indifferent. To almost everything. Hermione couldn't blame her; the poor girl was the daughter of the deceased Toymaker, an unhinged and murderous Death Eater who'd used muggle toys to wreak havoc on muggles and magicals alike. As if that wasn't bad enough, little Amy was also a ward of the Goyles, the two of whom Hermione did not doubt were also Death Eater sympathizers. Many in the class treated Amy with a wide berth (even the purebloods), and Hermione felt her heart pang in sympathy for her. She knew what it felt like to be unfairly treated for one's parentage.
"Thank you Amy, I think your picture is quite lovely too." And it was, the young witch had painted a soft and delicate landscape of lazily floating sailboats.
"Thank you," she replied, her voice not as flat as it had previously been. Unseen to both witches, Madame Milburga smiled once more in approval.
Kolumbiko Estate - 7:19PM
Tom took a small sip of his elderflower-infused champagne as he surveyed the celebrations from his vantage at the bar. The reception was in its seventh hour, and it showed little sign of slowing down. Since the wedding had been specifically planned for the summer solstice, there were plenty of hours of remaining daylight to be enjoyed.
All the remaining wedding guests were currently in the westernmost garden of the Kolumbiko Estate, the area transformed into a beautiful outdoor reception area. A massive enchanted tent covered the entire space, fitted with columns encircled with blooms of white roses. A veritable army of house elves outfitted in shimmering gold togas bearing the Kolumbiko family crest moved with efficient precision, deftly topping up drinks, serving and clearing plates, and making sure those who were already deep in their cups weren't getting into too much trouble. Uncle Ibdar (Lord Haseeb's third maternal cousin) had already been rescued from falling twice into the garden's lily pond after too much elven date wine. Cousins Zahra and Lisbeth had made sure to take plenty of photos to be shared later.
Taking another sip of his drink, Tom turned his focus on the dance floor where plenty of the younger guests were currently dancing wildly to the tunes of Scarlet and the Wundagores, a French all woman heavy metal-infused squib band (Libra's all-time favorite). In the midst of the dance floor was Libra being twirled around spiritedly by Sirius as the two laughed, causing Tom to huff amusedly. Harry and little Eurus were also taking the turn on the dance floor, the two laughing as they whispered about something. Eurus, Olivia's baby sister and the youngest of Sameer's five children, was due to be attending Hogwarts in the fall, and she was more than likely to be sorted into Slytherin house. Hopefully she would pick up where Olivia had left off as a key member of Harry's Claimant Administration. Though quite young, little Eurus already demonstrated a keenly sharp intelligence and a rather endearingly bubbly charm that would suit Harry's needs very well in Slytherin House.
"There you are!"
Tom turned at the sound of Sameer's voice raising his glass in brief salute, which his friend mimicked in kind. Tom smiled at seeing the glowing python symbol on the cuff adorning his dear friend's right wrist. Sam had been a key member of Tom's Prince Administration, helping to forge key connections within and outside of Slytherin House, relying on his winsome good looks, the strength of his last name, and his persistently unbreakable ability to give people exactly what they needed in exchange for their loyalty to his and Tom's cause. Granted their relationship hadn't always been smooth sailing; Sam had kept a neutrally respectful distance for much of Tom's first and second year, not engaging in the bigotry of his peers but not doing anything to stop it either. It wasn't until the last few months of Tom's rather disastrous third year did Sam make the first move, actively shielding Tom from Dumbledore's suspicion regarding Myrtle's death, and expanding Tom's inter-house study group to include some more of the influential and neutral-leaning peers. It had taken some time, but Sam and Tom had grown to become like brothers, genuine friends and great allies. Sam had also played a critical role in helping get the Youth Liaison Program off the ground, serving as 'background administration' that helped manage the expansive network of Consultants, both Mastery and otherwise.
"How are you feeling Tom? Or should I say, Mr. Libra Kolumbiko?" Tom laughed at the cheeky statement, not bothering to refute while he took another sip of champagne. Sam had been the one to introduce his sister to Tom in 1965, during the Kolumbiko Yule Ball held in their sprawling Hampstead estate. Libra had been in her final year at Beauxbatons, preparing to take on her Law Mastery. She and Tom had hit it off almost immediately, and had kept in touch with each other during her Mastery apprenticeship. They'd officially begun dating when Libra had begun her law practice in 1974, becoming Seneschal Gaunt in 1975.
"I feel fantastic Sam, truly. This is the most wonderful day of my life." Sam stared inscrutably for a few moments, before a broad and genuine smile illuminated his face.
"I am very glad to hear that Tom. You deserve all the joy and happiness in the world."
"I'll drink to that my friend." They clinked glasses before taking a hefty swig of their drinks. A few languid moments passed as they took in the festive sights before the deep tenor of Lord Haseeb sounded.
"Sam! Tom! There you are!" Lord Haseeb motioned for the bartender elf to refill their drinks, which he quickly did. The formidable man donned traditional thobe linen robes in colors of warm bronze and deep oranges, with the upper right corner bearing the crest of the Kolumbiko family. His head was smooth and bald, offset by a well-groomed silvery gray beard. "How are your first hours as a married man Tom?" he asked cheekily.
"Fantastic Haseeb, truly fantastic."
"Wonderful to hear! You've made my Libra very happy." Lord Kolumbiko's warm brown eyes crinkled delightedly.
"Not nearly as happy as Libra has made me, truly." Another approving smile met his statement.
"Excellent to hear." Haseeb took another sip of his champagne. "I know you'll be off your honeymoon by nighttime, so I'm hoping we can have a quick catch-up before you leave" He paused and took another sip, pausing to gaze upward. "It is the most precipitous time of the year for the most fruitful conversations."
"Indeed Baba," replied Sam, taking an elegant sip of his champagne. "After all, fortune favors the brave." He stared significantly in a particular direction, prompting the other two to do the same. Tom's lips thinned. Seated at a table were Lady Cyra and Serena Zabini, engaged in seemingly very pleasant conversation, judging by their smiles and laughs. Her son Blaise was currently chatting it up with Yahya and Zeinab (Sameer's Heir and second-born daughter), seemingly charming the two given their almost mutually besotted expressions. The Zabini family had always been friendly with the Kamas, starting with Aminata Kama marrying Tommaso Zabini in 1749, resulting in the birth of Armand Zabini in 1755. Like the Kamas, the Zabinis were also well-versed with astronomy, along with tarot cartomancy, tasseomancy, chiromancy, and various other techniques of the occult. Thanks to her many 'exploits', Serena had become a Person of Interest to the Mind and Love divisions of the Unspeakables (along with the British, French, and Italian Auror Departments) when her second husband magically died, then the third, the fourth, and ultimately the fifth. Never a sign of foul play, all seemingly dead by natural causes (Tom had double-checked the autopsies). He'd even gone as far as to check the Hall of Prophecies, suspecting potential seer abilities at play. But nothing had turned up, not a single orb. Tom's lips thinned some more.
"Indeed," replied Tom. "There's no time like the present."
Later That Night…
"This…this is very disturbing Tom," said Haseeb, his expression uncommonly pale and tight. Some seconds later, Sam's head popped out of the pensieve, his expression more severe than his friend had ever seen.
"Indeed it is. It seems our former enemy was not quite as vanquished as we had believed."
"Did you see that portal?! That… that is of… tremendous concern." Haseeb summoned a crystal decanter and matching glasses, pouring three hefty glassfuls. Both father and son gulped down their drinks.
"I did. As we all know, portals are never a random phenomenon. Most portals have to be conjured, with said conjuration only possible through ritual means. Naturally occurring portals are very few and far in-between, and are typically surrounded by naturally-occurring obscuring and protective magicks. That was certainly not the case here." Tom paused to take a small sip of his drink, glad to feel the slow-acting Sobering Potion he'd ingested immediately come into effect. He did not like to be addled in any capacity. "The unnaturalness of the portal is also of great concern. In spite of my Occludic mastery, I found myself… deeply perturbed by the sensation of peering into somewhere… forbidden. Somewhere…"
"Somewhere frightening…somewhere… endless," Sameer replied, his expression deeply disturbed.
"Precisely," said Tom.
"And the wraith was just…sucked right through." Haseeb tiredly tugged at his beard. "The existence of the wraith is even more troubling. It confirms that the Dark Lord employed…other unconventional means to extend his life force should he be killed. No one is meant to survive the Killing Curse. That coupled with that portal…" The old man's expression turned grave as he poured another snifter of Firewhiskey.
"It means the Dark Lord found the means to exploit the Wild." Sam paused and took a hefty sip of his drink. "The Dark Wild." He couldn't repress the shudder that ran through him. Haseeb wasn't far behind.
"This cannot stand. We can not allow it to stand. If the Dark Lord endures and is somehow doing so by exploiting the powers of the Dark Wild, then that accursed realm will bleed right into our reality and we will all be doomed." The portentous weight of Haseeb's words hung heavily in the air.
Tom set down his drink. "Then let us begin."
AN 1: And that's it! I realized I made an error in an AN note of Book 1, Libra & Tom were always meant to be married the summer before Year 2
AN 2: Little Eurus will be at Hogwarts as a firstie! The east wind is coming :)
AN 3: For casting, I'm thinking Daniel Sunjata as Sam Kolumbiko and Eurus as Lovie Simone
Next Up: Back in England!