CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Harry spent a good fifteen minutes before the start of her double History session for her fellow seventh years making sure that the Runes she had carved and the sigil she had painted on the floor and enchanted worked properly. There was nothing more embarrassing than a technical failure during a lesson! The topics Harry had decided to cover for the lessons were History of Wandlore, Witch Trials of the 17th century, the Dissolution of the Wizards' Council and the Owl Airforce and hidden help given by wizards during the Great War of 1914-1918. She had noticed some serious gaps in the knowledge of her fellow classmates in these subjects.
The Room had gone all out to help Harry prepare for the lesson, even providing her with some photographs from the Hogwarts archives that provided evidence of the Owl Airforce and examples of hidden help provided to the Muggles in that, in Harry's mind at least, stupid pointless war. Harry's favourite photos were of magical nurses and Animagi joining normal army dogs as first aid dogs and battlefield messengers. The Room had also provided Harry with varying kinds of wands and magical staffs for her Wandlore section of the lesson as well as a chart depicting the Insular Celtic calendar, and the corresponding tree or plant to each month, and manuscripts that related to the Wizards' Council. As with the fifth years, Harry had prepared flashcards and laid out a pile of practise exam papers and essay questions on her teacher's desk. All the while she worked, Harry hummed to herself.
It wasn't long until the seventh years, joined by a few sixth years desperately in need of help with the Witch Trails and the Owl Airforce, arrived. Harry smiled as the thirty-plus students filed in. The Room promptly provided some high backed chairs in an almost complete circle around the sigil in the middle of the room. The Room really was such an angel!
"Good afternoon! Welcome to your first History class, everyone. Today we will be starting with the History of Wandlore. So, we will start with what I call a Quick Fire Round to see what you do know – just out of personal curiosity really and to make sure I don't accidentally sound patronising when I am explaining something – so let's get cracking," she stated as her class-of-almost-forty-students sat down. It seemed that both seventh year History classes had showed up as well as every sixth year taking History! Her class nodded in agreement.
Harry began pacing around her seated class. "Let's start with this one: can someone name the four components to wandcraft?"
"Suitable wood, known as wand wood; magical core, length of the wand and flexibility," Tom answered easily.
Harry nodded as she continued to pace around the room. "Good. Now can someone name the three components to staff creation?"
"Wood, power core and Elemental Alignment," Druella responded, looking pleased she actually could answer a question.
Harry nodded, smiling. "Correct. When does 'wilting' of a wand occur?"
"Oh I know this! It occurs when the wand has expelled all magic, inhibiting its further magical use," Tessa responded, her face lighting up. "Or when its true owner has died; the wand kind of 'dies' along with them."
"Excellent!" Harry clapped her hands once. "Last one – can someone name the Four Fundamental Laws that dictate the rules over every wand?"
There were a few panicked faces. Other students had their brows furrowed in concentration, clearly trying to remember if they had read or studied them before. Tom looked like he was sitting on his hands to stop himself from answering twice.
"The wand chooses the wizard," Arcturus eventually spoke up tentatively. "It's the most fundamental law."
Harry gave him a thumbs-up as she continued to walk. "Good. The second?"
To her surprise, it was Mulciber who spoke up next. "There is an intrinsic connection between wand and wizard, both learning from each other through experience."
"Yet another correct answer. Now the third, please," Harry continued jovially.
It was Ossian Gilbert who contributed the next answer. "A wizard may be able to channel his or her magical energy with any wand, regardless whether it belongs to them or not."
Harry did a small twirl on her feet to signify clearly that Gilbert was correct, causing a few of the students to chuckle. "The last one now; you guys are on a roll!"
"A wand may be won from its master, and only then would its allegiance transfer to the new master," Loreley replied with a smile. "Though, sometimes overpowering or disarming the original master is not enough to win its allegiance, especially if the wand has become attached to said original."
Harry smirked. "It really is such a pity I can't hand out points. You guys are already making my day! So, bearing all of this in mind, let's move on to some known and unknown elements of this subject. Starting with the ones who make the creation and study of wands their life's work."
Almost precisely on cue, Harry's sigil glowed below the feet of the students – a whole lot of eyes bugged out in an instant and a few lifted their feet up just in case – but she ignored the reactions as the sigils conjured up golden simulations of the most important wandmakers in history. The people ranged from the Druids to Drusilla Gemina to Ollivander to Mykew Gregorovitch to Salazar Slytherin and his sister Alcazar to Cosme Acajor to Johannes Jonker to Isolt Sayre to Shikoba Wolfe to Antioch Peverell. With each one, Harry would make the person she was referring to glow slightly while providing the most important details about their achievements and thus their contribution to the progression and history of Wandlore. The class mostly stayed silent, taking notes and drawing the figures for themselves but a few could not resist asking questions about Alcazar Slytherin, Isolt Sayre and Antioch Peverell.
Harry could admit that she side-stepped a lot of the questions about her ancestor Antioch's wandmaking practises, especially when a few of the more curious sixth years asked about Tosti's involvement in the creation of the Elder Wand. She did happily tell the confused sixth and seventh years, the ones who were not in Slytherin House, about Salazar's lesser known sister and the story of Isolt Sayre.
Harry did move on quite quickly onto the mysteries surrounding wands and their behaviour. "Wandlore is complex and mysterious; it still boggles the minds of those who make it their life," Harry continued making her way around the class as the magical simulations of the wandmakers faded. "But what is clear, is that there is a relationship between the nature of the wood, the correspondence of the wood in the Insular Celtic calendar and the other natural elements within. For example, my own wand – made up of hawthorn wood and has a Dragon heart-string core. Some people who know Wandlore would rightly assume I was born somewhere in June. I was not; my birthday is July 31."
A decent number of eyebrows raised in surprise. Harry chuckled. "This wand I am holding, is not the wand I received when I was eleven." More eyebrows went up. "This is the wand I took from an old rival of mine after an admittedly physical altercation where I overpowered him and physically disarmed him. My own wand was made of holly wood with a phoenix feather core." She smiled nostalgically. "I miss that wand. It knew me better than I could have thought a wand was able to. It's not like my current wand hates me, but it still feels different."
Ignatius raised his hand at this.
"Yes, Mr. Prewett?"
"What happened to your wand, if I may ask?"
"My wand got hit by a Blasting Curse from Snatchers aligned with the Dark Lord," Harry responded candidly. "Hermione tried to fix my wand but … there is very little that can fix a damaged wand. That is mostly due to the fact the vast majority of wands simply do not have the power to undo that kind of damage. But the one lesson that my old wand taught me was that there is not only a deep connection between a wand and its wizard, but also between a wand and its opponents, which brings me to the next topic."
The sigil glowed once more and the students watched in awe as they saw a beam of red meet a beam of bright green – Killing Curse green – hit each other and then merging into a golden orb and threads of gold spreading out into a glowing web of bright light. Harry was very happy to note that everyone, including Tom Riddle, simply didn't dare to blink at what they were seeing.
"What you see before you is known as Priori Incantatem," Harry began walking again, her footsteps seemed to echo around the room in the awed silence. "This is what you get when two wands with sibling cores from the same magical creature are forced to face each other. They are known as "brothers", thus cannot under any circumstances duel one another. This is the First Law of Priori Incantatem. However, if they have once faced each other under these circumstances, they will come to know one another almost on sight and may come to react to each other without the consent of their masters. Underline that please because this is the Second Law." The students jumped into action immediately. Harry grinned. "Under even more special circumstances, the wand of one may come to recognise the master of its brother almost on sight, even if the master of its brother is using a different wand. How or why this happens, little is known about it but this is how we know that there is a quasi-sentience to wands."
Tom tore his eyes from the simulation in front of him to look up at her. "Have you seen this for yourself?" he asked almost breathlessly.
Harry nodded and smiled sadly. "Yes, I have." Thanks to you, she said internally."My old wand had a brother; the two engaged in Priori Incantatem at least twice. My beloved holly even fought against its brother's owner with golden flames, despite the fact the owner of its brother was using another's wand. It was like, 'Gasp, I know you – you are my brother's owner. I still recognise you so take some golden flames to the face. You cannot fool me!'"
A few chuckles ran around the room.
Harry could still see those golden flames her trusty partner had fired at Voldemort during the Battle of the Seven Harrys clearly in front of her eyes. Harry shook herself out of her memories and forced herself to continue with the lesson. As the magical simulation of the Priori Incantatem faded away, Harry got the class to get more hands on by asking them to investigate the wands and staffs the Room had provided for the lesson and to study their properties and determine what kind of owner they theoretically they could have had.
After this, she allowed her students to have a five minute break before moving onto the Witch Trials of the 17th century. Harry had decided to cover the Muggle and Magical points of view on the Pendle Witch Trials of 1612, the Salem Witch Trials of 1692, and the German Witch Trials from 1603-1631. For each case, Harry introduced the most important people involved, from the hunters, monarchs and judges, such as King James VI and I, Matthew Hopkins, the Witchfinder General, to the Scourers who were misusing the trails to settle vendettas, to the accused using the simulations once more. She also made sure to provide historical and political context behind each of the Trials, including the rise in popularity of the Malleus Maleficarum.
Harry handed out transcripts she had made of each of the trials to her students as she narrated the events leading up to each trial, while the simulation played in a manner akin to a movie until it came to the trials themselves. The scenes changed to show the exact placing of each person in the court rooms and the Text-to-Speech spell activated to read out the transcripts, different voices narrating each part. The audio learners had closed their eyes to listen; the visual learners sketched the scenes as they listened, making notes next to each person. The rest of the class made notes on the transcripts, citing the most important details as they listened and looked up periodically to watch the simulation. It was the denouncing of Elizabeth Device by her own nine-year-old daughter Jennet that elicited one of the most emotional responses out of all the examples. It still had Harry's classmates reeling by the end of the lesson section.
"I'm sorry, I still cannot get the first one out of my head. The treacherous little bleeder!" Dolohov seethed as soon as the last Germanic trial simulation faded away. "What the hell was she doing? She condemned her entire bloody family!"
"Cunning women were healers, social workers and herbalists – why were Muggles too thick to see that?" Avery grumbled.
"Their religion blinded them from reason," Septimus pointed out.
"I pity poor Alizon – imagine being that afraid of witchcraft that you think you cause someone to collapse by simply swearing at them," Walburga shook her head, still looking at the transcripts in utter disbelief.
"The rivalry between the Devices and the Chattoxes was definitely part of the problem," Edward Diggory added. "Plus, it didn't help that there were still Catholic practitioners in the country to further stoke the flames of fear for Protestant Muggles. It's why the Nutters were pulled into the mess, mark my words. It was because they were Catholic land owners."
Harry had to give them a moment to debate a little bit more before having to move on to the Wizards' Council and the founding of the Wizengamot in its place in 1707. She briefly covered the Council Chiefs – Barberus Bragge, Burdock Muldoon, Elfrida Clagg, and Ulick Gamp, who would become the first Head of the Wizengamot – and the known actions taken by the Council. The topics included the investigation into Nicholas Malfoy in the 1340s, who was accused of killing Muggle tenants under the guise of the Black Death, and the signing of the International Statute of Secrecy in 1692. Harry had gotten them to study the manuscripts before splitting the room in half in order to get the students to debate the most important factors to each action made. Out of all of them, the drama around the Malfoy murders and the signing of the Statute of Secrecy had been the ones to be the most heated. When some of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuff started slinging unnecessary ad hominem arguments at Abraxas and Loreley with the Slytherins getting ready to throw hexes and jinxes at the Lions and Badgers. Harry was forced to put them under a Silencing Charm and gave the class a moment to cool off.
The Mistress of Death could admit to herself that perhaps she should have foreseen some very fiery passions being ignited about some of these subjects, but they still needed to be covered.
The final topic, the Owl Airforce and the hidden help given to Muggles during the Great War, also had mixed reactions. The photographs of the Owl Airforce preparing for battle, their training and the photographs of Dog Animagi acting as trackers, first aid workers and messengers between battlefield and high command, went around the room as Harry spoke with a mixture of disbelief, awe and even disgust in some cases. The photos taken of and reports written by Blood Witches and vampires who had worked as battlefield nurses caused a bit of a stir amongst the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs especially.
As with the fifth years, Harry had assigned her students to complete essay questions for their next lesson, and given flashcards to anyone who wanted to work with them. Just as with her fifth years, the Lady Regnant gave an example essay question to get the class to practise with. The question she had posed was: Significant historical events in the 17th century contributed to the dissolution of the Wizards' Council in 1707 and the founding of the British Ministry of Magic – discuss.
The seventh and sixth years were having so much fun giving their answers to the question that they almost missed the start of dinner. At the end of her lesson, Harry felt positively drained of energy, but in a good kind of way. She soon got a headache from the amount of compliments about her teaching style – and a rare apology from Dolohov, who did swallow his pride, and admitted that he had underestimated just how effective a more active method of studying actually was. Harry found herself messaging her temples all the way to the Great Hall and fighting her exhaustion.
The problem was, Harry almost fell asleep into her treacle tart at least three times because she had been in such a desperate need for a nap over the last couple of days; her body had decided to use her benevolent exhaustion as an excuse to try and knock her out to get the said nap. Artemis and Altair alternated with each other in Keep Harry's Head Up duty while Orion, Druella and Minerva made sure she was eating the moment she regained consciousness again.
"I think our favourite Lady Regnant needs an early night," Tom stated, as he saw Harry's eyes glaze over quickly while she continued eating her pudding.
"I am not … tired," Harry protested weakly, almost slurring her words. "My eyes … just need a rest."
"Sure, and the Sun is blue," Druella answered sassily, shaking her head. "You are going to bed early tonight; no homework, no coursework, no dissertation – just rest. Otherwise you will collapse fully."
Harry groaned in protest, but couldn't stop her own head from falling onto Altair's right shoulder. "I am not … a child … Bella."
The young Slytherin only realised her mistake when it was far too late.
"Right, that's it – you are definitely getting an early night now," Artemis stated with a tone full of authority. "You're so tired you are starting to mix up people's names!"
Harry smirked into Altair's shoulder. "Am not … Diana."
Artemis scoffed. "Now you're doing it on purpose, you hag! But you are still getting an early night. Even if it means putting you under a Body Bind!"
"Was already planning on it if she decided to be difficult," Ophelia informed her.
"Traitor," was all Harry had energy to comment.
Once Harry had eaten one treacle tart and had some fish and potatoes, her dorm mates immediately escorted her to the Slytherin dungeons and directly towards a warm shower and then her bed. Harry hated to admit it, but while being tucked into bed and watching Druella, Walburga, Ophelia and Ygraine gossip, reading and testing their Occlumency defences and relaxing into her sheets was exactly what she needed. Athenaïs, Sigyn and Seraphina played around the room. It wasn't even eight o'clock in the evening before Harry felt her eyes just fall shut and she fell into the Realm of Hypnos.
"She'll drive herself into an early grave without Grindelwald's help at this rate," Ygraine sighed as soon as they were certain their friend was deep asleep, looking over the top of the third book in a romance series she was reading.
"Somehow I think juggling one thing after another is what Harry is used to," Druella shook her head, flicking to the next chapter in the Occlumency book in front of her. "Another bad habit, apart from jumping back into battle without thinking, that no one seems to have tried to temper."
"I am willing to bet it was even encouraged," Walburga sniffed, running her brush through her hair.
"Do you think she will disappear again tonight?" Ophelia bit her lip, worry swimming circles in her eyes.
"I am a betting girl; yes, she will," Druella replied darkly. "I had hoped that portrait would be the last assignment until Yule or something."
"Grindelwald would likely send a pack of werewolves to Hogwarts to test her just for the fun of it," Walburga pointed out. "Fate doesn't seem to ever give Harry a break, and the girl is abysmal at taking care of her own health. Next time, I will just cast a Sleeping Charm on her, whether she likes it or not, and be done with it."
It was at this point the golden jackal of Altair and Orion's dolphin entered the dorm through the walls.
"Is she asleep, girls?" Altair's jackal asked.
"Knock her out if she isn't," Orion's dolphin added.
The two creatures faded. Ophelia rolled her eyes as she conjured her kelpie Patronus. "Tell them that Harry is asleep for now but we have a funny feeling that she is likely not to stay asleep for long."
The kelpie bowed its head and half-cantered, half-swam away. Walburga, Druella and Ygraine looked on enviously. The girls did not have to wait too long for a reply because the jackal and the dolphin came back with Arcturus' orca and even Malfoy's dinosaur following closely behind them.
"I really hope she ignores that damn assignment for a little while longer," Altair's voice grumbled.
"Girls, stick her to her bed – now!" Orion added.
"No, do not stick her to the bed. What if she desperately needs to get up? Just make sure the door stays locked until morning," Arcturus' orca sighed.
"My sister has asked me to tell you to allow the path to unfold and to trust in the unseen ones," Malfoy's dinosaur stated deadpan. "So under no circumstances listen to Orion Black. I will never hear the end of it otherwise."
"Bloody Loreley Malfoy. That girl gets creepier and creepier by the year," Ygraine commented, shaking her head. "I am starting to think that there is more to her weirdness than just being able to see things that are not there."
"Have you seen the looks she and Harry have been exchanging too?" Druella stated as the group too prepared to go to bed.
"You mean the ones that basically translate to 'we know something everyone else doesn't'?" Ophelia piped up, brushing her hair. "I have."
"The question is: what secrets are those two sharing that they can't tell the rest of us?" Walburga sighed. "It has to be more than just hiding Harry's identity or they would have clued us in."
"Whatever it is, I just hope Loreley knows Harry will be fine," Ygraine responded as she crawled into bed. "All I care about is that we have a Lady Regnant to introduce to pureblood society in December and not having to visit her in the Janus Thickney Ward."
Quietly, Athenaïs had been listening into the conversation. Thanks to her friends inside the necklace, she knew Harry would wake up in approximately three hours and the Gargouille knew exactly why. The strange instrument with suppression Rune after suppression Rune surrounding it. The stone dragon had felt its power even through Harry's trunk and had taken an instant disliking to it. The thing had way too much magic in it!
Athenaïs decided to try and catch some sleep while she could, in her alcove. But a trip to the Realm of Hypnos messed with time a lot – the young dragon thought she had only just closed her eyes when her heightened draconic hearing heard the sheets rustle from the bed of her Witch, not that she had been asleep for three hours. However, that was precisely the case.
Harry had tiptoed around to her trunk, opened it and had lifted out the damned box, her Invisibility Cloak and, for some inexplicable reason, her scythe and throwing daggers. For some reason, Harry knew that no book would be able to help her solve this particular issue. Not bothering to change out of her night gown, the Mistress of Death simply put on a pair of socks, her Muggle military boots and left her dormitory with already fortified Occlumency shields and anger coursing through her veins.
The Time Compass needed to be dealt with, sooner rather than later.
Aptly, like a ghost through the night, Harry went along the corridors up to the secret passageway that she had used the last time, expertly avoiding the patrolling Caroline Harrow thanks to her ability to sense the life forces in the castle. The Mistress of Death was well-aware that she was being followed, but at present had very little headspace to deal with five familiars. She barely registered how cold the October air was on her bare legs and arms, her headspace too focused on the task at hand.
Athenaïs, Sigyn, Seraphina, Frey – who had been unable to sleep due to the fact her wizard and his dorm mates all could not get a wink of sleep and thus were still up – and a strange tabby cat they bumped into called Minerva, apparently, snuck their way through one of the familiar passageways out of the castle and made sure to follow the magical signature of the Mistress of Death towards the forest with the tall, dark trees and creepy wild life.
Minerva had been especially against it. She is heading straight for the Dark Forest! Wait until I get my hands on her, she had meowed indignantly.
Hands? Darling, you have paws, Seraphina had answered a little haughtily.
Yes, about that, Minerva meowed. I am not exactly a … normal cat. My true form is, well, human. I am actually a witch.
Athenaïs had lit up in an instant. Oh you're one of those funny shapeshifters! Animaga or something.
Animagus, Minerva corrected stiffly.
*Most impressive, walker. But I think you should have opted for a snake form. Much more refined,* Frey had stated, causing Sigyn and Seraphina to scowl. Athenaïs was not happy with that comment either.
Unfortunately, an Animagus cannot choose their form, Minerva informed as the odd group entered the murky undergrowth of the Forbidden Forest. I am rather pleased with mine though. Makes sometimes escaping my Housemates very easy, or on this occasion, checking on a friend of mine who has been struggling.
Oh, wait a minute! You are that Minerva, Athenaïs exclaimed excitedly. You are Harry's friend from the Lion House! I saw you at dinner once but I was disguised.
I am, Minerva smiled. I am glad to finally meet you officially.Not long afterwards, much to Minerva's shock and horror, the group came across Aragog the Acromantula, who had just finished cocooning his prey at his hollow and was out for an evening walk. Minerva had dived behind Seraphina in fear and nearly fainted when she heard the other familiars chuckle.
We had to get used to him first too, don't worry, Sigyn reassured.
"Oh! Athenaïs, Sigyn, Seraphina, and Frey too! What a wonderful surprise. Oh, you brought a friend?" Aragog lit up happily. "Hello, I am Aragog. What is your name?"
One would have said a cat had caught Minerva's tongue but considering Minerva was the cat, it complicated matters a little. The young Animagus could not speak for about a minute so Seraphina made the introductions. This is Minerva, a friend of Harry's. Minerva, this is Aragog. An Acromantula Harry befriended a couple of days ago.
Of course she befriended a giant spider! Minerva grumbled under her breath. Aragog was still studying Minerva. "Oh! Nice to meet you, Minerva. Speaking of Harry, I saw her going to the funny building thing – gazebo, I think it is called – again. She doesn't look very happy."
Can you show us? Athenaïs asked politely.
The Acromantula led the way further into the undergrowth, with the four familiars and Minerva following closely behind.
Meanwhile, Harry had set up privacy spell after Silencing Charm around the gazebo and had set up the Runes for the containment cell, glaring disdainfully at the box that contained the Time Compass. She had tossed her Invisibility Cloak to one side next to her weapons and put a few Warming Charms around herself. With a wave of her hand, casting a non-verbal Unlocking Spell, the box flew open and with a Telekinetic Spell, Harry lifted the domed Time Compass out. Once more, the Mistress of Death was exposed to the powerful magical radiation of the object, but instead of the power feeling invasive or oppressive – like the last time – it felt almost like a smug caress.
Like the damn thing had been waiting for this to happen. Well, Harry was going to enjoy taking the wind out of its sails.
Setting her jaw and gathering all her courage, Harry knocked the dome off the Time Compass and prepared herself for another telepathic invasion of her mind. Just as she had anticipated, no sooner had the dome been lifted, an invisible force began knocking at her Occlumency shields. Some hits were more forceful than others; the thing was clearly trying to find a weak spot once more in her defences. Harry's peridot orbs bled silver as she lowered one of her shields on her own terms.
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, she told the Time Compass icily. You will only be able to talk if and when I say it. If I think for one moment you are going to use the ghosts of my past against me again to manipulate me, I will seal you away and then throw you to the bottom of the Black Lake. Is that clear?
Very well, the entity did not sound too happy about it, but also knew that argument was futile. I accept your terms, but would just like to say; I wasn't manipulating you. It was a genuine offer.
A genuine offer? Harry scoffed. You lure people in! You play on their weaknesses, tempting them to use you for selfish and trivial ends. Damn the consequences that may follow!
Of course I want to be used! Do you really think that I wish to be rendered to be nothing more than an ornament like the rest of my brethren are at present? the Time Compass sneered in such a manner, Harry was almost reminded of the attitude given off by the Diary Horcrux. I was created with only one purpose in mind, Harry – to be used. If that means I have to use a little bit of … encouragement, I will do it.
Your 'encouragement' put your creator into hospital. His wife will probably not receive an explanation as to what happened to her husband from his superiors and his children will be left to grow up, essentially, without a father, Harry snarled. You should never have 'encouraged' him!
It was then that Harry heard the strange whizzing and buzzing of the dust swirling inside the Time Compass. Once more, the thing was laughing. Hourglass did not need my encouragement, Harry. He had decided to circumvent protocol and use himself as a test subject for his experiments. He simply used my skills to … try and go back to see his parents, but what he ended up doing was … seeing events he was never meant to see. All because he twisted the wrong knob at the wrong moment. I simply explained to him what he had seen.
You think that absolves you of what you have done? Harry sneered back.
No, but it was also his own stupid fault, the Compass answered nonchalantly. Even if his mind hadn't broken, he would never have been able to Travel. Hourglass simply wouldn't have survived the journey. But you on the other hand, you actually have to capability to Travel on your own! The power you have pales in comparison to what I can do. I was not lying to you when I said I could help you see Luna, and all the others, again. I was built with precision in mind; your Travelling powers are novice. I could provide you with the stability you need until you can do it on your own.
Harry laughed mirthlessly. You must be barmy to think I would fall for that. You are not the first to try to tempt me to make a decision that might end up destroying the very world I love, the people I love. They were a lot more persuasive than you.
The whizzing of the dust sped up once more as the Compass chuckled. Don't worry. We would be back before you know it. That is … if you would have the courage to leave again. I wonder – do you think they will recognise you or even know who you are? Harry Potter died; Harry Evans-Peverell appears. Would your enemies remember you as Potter or Peverell, and once they see you, know who you are? Will they or will they not kill you on sight? It would be rather fascinating to find out!
Harry's raven curls crackled with silver quintessence, her hands curling into fists and her magic humming under her skin. Shut up.
Touched a nerve, have I? You haven't considered the ramifications of your actions here, have you, Traveller?
I have, Harry countered, swallowing. More than you think!
She had no idea why she did it, but Harry lifted up the sleeve of her left arm and had revealed the intricate Lichtenburg wound on her left arm, the one that still had a slight silver sheen to it and covering some of her much older scars. For a moment, Harry felt rather stupid showing her arm to an object with no eyes but it was the silence inside of her head that told the Traveller that the Compass had definitely noticed the wound.
You do realise, it spoke again in a whisper, that you can never truly return to your original time line because of that wound? You are tied to these people and this time line for the rest of your semi-immortal days!
The news should have shattered Harry. It theoretically should have made a mortal blow to the very recesses of her soul. Instead, a smile began carving its way across the moonlit countenance of the Mistress of Death. Harry did not notice, but her witnesses and the Compass did, that the shadows seemed to almost blanket her in a manner akin to folded up wings.
"Story of my life. I have never been normal, nor felt like I truly belonged," Harry spoke up for the first time in a while, sounding eerily calm and collected. "As long as I can remember, I have wanted to be, well, wanted for being me. Wanted a family, wanted normality. I craved acceptance, especially after I saw the Weasleys up close and personal when I was twelve. Do you know the first thing I noticed about them? That they actually liked me and were happy to see me in the morning. They didn't tell me to get out of their sight, or do chores before offering me scraps." Harry smirked coldly momentarily. "My own family hated the sight of me – my very name was a curse on their lips!"
The Compass had the decency to say nothing.
"I gained a family in the Weasleys. Hermione and Ginny eventually became the sisters I always wanted. Luna – despite the initial aversion all of us showed her – liked me enough to try and be my friend because she somehow liked me for who I am. Playing music with me, composing, Thestral riding," Harry blinked away the tears as Luna's voice rang in her head. I enjoyed the Defence session. It was just like being with friends. "Neville was a saving grace for me during fourth year; he trusted us with a horrible secret in fifth year, followed us into certain danger because I was foolish enough to believe a vision, and in sixth year helped me to keep an eye on Draco Malfoy. All I had to was ask him to. Not to mention Fred and George … no one will ever be like them." Harry allowed herself to chuckle. "I even miss Draco's childish tantrums and his petty remarks! There is not a single day that goes by that I do not think of any of them, or Sirius, Remus, Molly, Arthur; all of them. But here is the thing: for all their virtues and no matter how much I love them, they didn't see me for me first."
Harry began pacing in a manner akin to a lioness, judging how best to catch her prey. "They saw the Girl-Who-Lived before they saw Harry. Sirius saw me as nothing more than a female James, Molly was right about that."
She isn't a female James, Sirius!
I am perfectly clear on who she is, Molly.
I'm not sure you are!
Those words rang clearer in Harry's ears than they had ever done before.
She sighed deeply. "It wasn't just Sirius. Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, Flitwick – they all saw me as either a means to an end, or the scion of Lily or James, depending on whether they wanted to praise or insult my mother and father. I accepted it, because I relished I had been accepted into this beautiful world that many would die to be a part of. I excused every betrayal I received because I was so scared of being alone and rejected. Eventually, it seemed only when I was playing music or singing that people saw something different in Hera Elizabeth Potter other than an empty figurehead written about before she even knew she was a witch!"
Harry scoffed with a long concealed bitter tone before forcing herself to regain control. "I went to my death on my own terms. Not for the sake of Dumbledore, or Snape or even the wizarding world, but for my friends, my family. I made the same Blood Pact that my mother did by doing so. But I also wanted to simply look Riddle in the eye and think I chose to come on my own terms. Even if you kill me, I win because you can never touch my friends again. But of course, my very genetics and a certain streak of Potter luck gave me a third option I would never have considered in a million years. Not until I saw that mangled thing under the bench."
Harry turned her head sharply and glowered at the Compass. "Hera Elizabeth Evans-Peverell was a lost orphan in London who was unknown, but accepted. People took a chance, without caring who she was. The goblins saw something in her, the dower bookshop owner saw something in her, Hogwarts genuinely wanted to help a stranger. Not the Girl-Who-Lived, a stranger! Hedwig was bought for me and was a true friend, one who loved me unconditionally, but Athenaïs chose me! Orion Black and Druella Rosier welcomed a half-blood, orphaned Lady Regnant with open arms. They didn't know who I was. They didn't seem to care, and when they did find out, they stayed silent and didn't look at me any differently than they did before. I could name others who did the same: Artemis, for one. Loreley knew who and what I was within weeks and still never looked at me differently! Minerva, another. The Weasley twins. Walburga, Ophelia, Ygraine – they immediately offered to learn Occlumency to protect me. Me!"
You were still betrayed, the Compass pointed out.
"Yes, and it hurt as badly as it did before, but not because I felt it was yet another piece of evidence that I was never seen for who I am or accepted for being just Harry," the Mistress of Death countered. "I wanted to trust them, and they broke what fragile trust I had tried to build with them. Some of them more than made up for it. Altair was prepared to risk everything just to be my friend again. Tom Riddle apologised. What his motives were, I frankly no longer care. Arcturus Rosier was able to grasp what a bloody idiot he has been before it was too late! Avery has yet to apologise but I have a feeling he … regrets what he did. All Mulciber cares about is if I am a decent flyer. Dolohov and Malfoy care nothing for me, and it is frankly refreshing. Heron – I never held a grudge against him and he never against me. Despite everything they put me through, I still feel happier seeing them every day than I did seeing the Slytherins of my own time."
It was at this moment Harry had stopped near her weapons. "Loreley told me not too long ago I had to make a choice – there are two Harrys, she said. I now know what she meant. Am I Harry Potter, the Girl-Who-Lived and empty figurehead of the wizarding world, or the Lady Regnant Harry Evans-Peverell, Mistress of Death, Traveller, Cursebreaker and friend to the very people who were my mortal enemies." The Cursebreaker crouched down and her hand coiled around the hilt of her scythe and smiled coldly to herself. "Would you like to know what I realised not too long ago?"
What?
"That I will always love the people I once knew. But even if I go back, it would mean the same story all over again. I am no longer that weak, pliant, obedient little soldier I once was," Harry turned around, scythe in hand. "Harry Potter was a sacrificial lamb; I am anything but! I am done taking orders from anyone if I don't see the merit in it." She chuckled lightly. "Hermione, Ron, Luna, Ginny, Neville – they would be faced with a stranger as much as Orion, Druella and Altair had been. Just like Tom, Heron, Artemis, Minerva and all the others too. As much as my old friends and family may have loved Harry Potter, I can guarantee you that they'd absolutely hate Harry Evans-Peverell, the Cursebreaker who uses what they consider to be Dark magic without so much as fearing being corrupted by it. They could never look at me the same way again."
Harry could practically see the disappointment in the eyes of Molly, Arthur, Kingsley and any other Light aligned adult she knew. She could see the almost fear and horror in Hermione's eyes and the disgust in Ron's. Somehow, the image made her sad but did not make Harry physically recoil as it should have done.
"Plus," she swallowed as she closed her eyes, trying to ignore the pounding of her heart, "I have people here who I love more than anything in the world, perhaps as much as I do my old friends. Maybe even more than my own life, and for once, I am going to be a little bit selfish."
See, Dumbledore? I am not as selfless as you think I am, the Cursebreaker thought to herself.
Harry swished her scythe, advancing closer towards the containment cell around the Time Compass. "I also realised thanks to a few good hours of sleep that you are not a Cursed instrument as my clients believe you are. It is as you said, you were designed to be the way you are. That in itself is a problem." Her eyes began glowing. "I am a Traveller; I know the impact I have had is irreparable. But here is the thing: I am limited by rules set by divine beings. You, on the hand,are a mortal instrument created by mortal hands! You know mortal temptations, and we both know what happens when mortal wizards mess with something they shouldn't. You are therefore a dangerous liability!"
What are you going to do? the sheer panic was overt in the tone of the Compass. It then seemed to notice the Otherworldly magic radiating from the Traveller's strange mortal blade and it must have sensed something it didn't like because very soon, panic was joined by fear. No … no! NO! Mercy! You cannot mean to undo me in this manner.
"You cannot be allowed to go back to mortal hands – human, goblin, elf or even dragon," Harry stated. "I know I swore to de-Curse you, but there is simply nothing for me to de-Curse. Besides, I know the hearts of humans better than most. I have seen 'great men' sacrifice countless people to get what they want. Your powers are so easy to abuse, it just isn't worth the risk."
Then allow me to become part of your staff's blade! Use my powers whenever you see fit – I will behave myself, I promise. No one else will be allowed to use your weapon. Desperation had now been laced with the panic and fear.
"You are just trying to save your own skin," Harry snarled, her silver eyes now almost neon in the darkness. The fairy magic inside the scythe activated, making the Runes glow brightly with a pinkish-purple hue.
No one would be the wiser! Destroy my shell, destroy my spirit – but take my power for yourself. You can wield it without being corrupted, I can see that. Please … I beg you. Do not render me entirely void! I will swear whatever oath you want me to take that I will always obey you and never bring you anywhere you do not wish to go to! I will never bring up your past unless you wish me too. Please-
With a frustrated, conflicted but determined cry, Harry had lifted her scythe up into a high cut and with a swift, elegant movement, had brought the blade down onto the Time Compass, the point of the scythe striking the very heart of the compass. As it did so, there was a sound that could only be described as an almighty thunderclap and a shock wave was sent rippling outwards, through different directions of the Forest. Indeed, it had forced Aragog, Athenaïs, Sigyn, Seraphina and Minerva to hold onto nearby trees in order to avoid being blown away by the force. Golden dust immediately clamped around the blade. The screams for mercy in Harry's head continued. Silver lightning struck out in all directions; golden light and dust coiled even more around the blade of the scythe as it did so. Eventually, what seemed like an eternity, the telepathic screaming died down. Harry, heaving heavily, tightened her sweaty palms around her scythe's hilt and forced herself to pull it up after what felt like an eternity, looking at the ruined, fried carcass of the Time Compass. It was only then her eyes turned to their normal, bright verdant colour. The golden dust was gone; every layer over the compass was shattered. The voice was gone and the Siren-like lure had died. Harry rubbed her forehead, trying to wipe away the beads of sweat and to control her breathing.
Gone. It was gone. It was done.
The Mistress of Death laughed with quiet relief. She would face whatever consequence the goblins decided; in this case, it was more than worth it.
"Harry."
She whirled around to see Thanatos standing behind her, smiling sadly but proudly at her. "I see I owe Melinoë some new boots."
"Thanatos," Harry answered breathlessly. "What … oh shit, our training session!"
The God of Death shook his head. "It matters not, my dear. This needed to be done, sooner rather than later as you correctly said yourself."
Harry was rather relieved when her immortal friend embraced her gently. "It wasn't lying, was it?" she whispered. "When it said it could allow me to visit my original time line."
There was a moment of fateful silence.
"No, it wasn't," Thanatos confirmed lowly. "But you are right. You are no longer the same girl you were – Harry Potter died, and Harry Evans-Peverell took her place." He released his Mistress.
Harry nodded despondently.
Thanatos' brow furrowed slightly. "You did the right thing in destroying it. Mortals could not be allowed to keep such an unpredictable instrument. I am glad you solved the issue before the divine got involved."
"Yeah, I'd rather avoid any awkward questions about divine lightning destroying only the Department of Mysteries just because some god could not be arsed to aim his bolt properly," Harry laughed mirthlessly.
Thanatos chuckled lowly. "Indeed." He paused for a moment. "Harry, may I give you some advice, as your friend?"
Harry cocked her head to one side.
Thanatos smiled smally. "Take some time to grieve."
It took Harry slightly aback. "Grieve?" she repeated, sounding almost disbelieving.
"Grieve the person you were," Thanatos clarified. "Harry Potter, your friends – you haven't grieved properly yet."
Harry smiled wryly. "Trust the God of Death to think of such matters."
"It is part of my job, Harry," Thanatos grinned, his face lighting up a little. "The process of grief is just as important to me as the greeting of the souls or guiding them into the next life. Plus, it is Samhain soon. I think it's time you permitted yourself to grieve."
"I haven't been stopping myself," Harry argued.
Thanatos raised an eyebrow, giving her a pointed look. "Are we really going to play this game?"
Harry swallowed. There was no point in arguing with someone who seemed to know her better than she knew herself, sometimes. She simply nodded. "OK," she whispered. Harry sniffed. "I think I will send the Time Compass to Gringotts. No use in delaying the delivery."
Thanatos gave only one curt nod before pressing a kiss to her temple, much to her surprise. "I will see you tomorrow. Good night, Harry."
"Good night, Tosti," Harry smiled at her fatherly divine friend.
The God of Death was gone as quickly as he came.
Harry took a deep breath before she turned her attention back on the task at hand. She took down the containment cell, and knelt down to put the dome back over the top of the ruined shell of the Time Compass and then picked it up physically for the first time and carefully put it back into the box.
The thing had not been lying. It told the truth.
Harry closed her eyes as she closed the box, bowing her head almost reverently. Ron, Hermione, Luna, Neville, everyone – please forgive me.
Forcing her eyes open, Harry picked up the box, tucking it under her arm. The Mistress of Death strapped the belt carrying her daggers around her waist and then slung her Invisibility Cloak and scythe over her left shoulder, setting off back to the castle, her mind still reeling from what had just happened.
You haven't grieved properly yet … I think it's time you permitted yourself to grieve.
A constricting feeling took hold of her heart, like a boa constrictor wrapping tightly around its prey. Harry barely registered the crunching of the fallen autumn leaves under her boots, almost deaf to the world around her. That was until she came across someone on the outskirts of the Forest.
Much to Harry's shock, there stood Minerva, dressed in a Scottish plaid nightgown, looking the most young and vulnerable that Harry had ever seen anyone look. Next to her were Sigyn, Seraphina and Athenaïs with Frey the ball python draped over Minerva's shoulders like a scaley shawl. Those grey eyes that normally held such sternness and strength were soft with undisguised relief and concern.
Harry smiled slightly. "Should you be out of bed at this hour, Min?"
"I could ask you the same, Harry," she whispered.
"Touché," Harry agreed with a short chuckle.
Minerva still didn't blink. "You did it."
"I did it," Harry agreed. She swallowed. "How much … did you see, hear?"
"See? Enough. Hear? Nothing. Athenaïs refused to allow any of us to get too close; she was determined goblin law would be upheld," Minerva chuckled, looking down at the proud-looking stone dragon. "I must say, I admire your familiar's sense for following protocol."
Harry scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Only you would!"
Minerva looked at the box for the first time. "Are you going to send it tonight?"
"Might as well, right?" Harry shrugged.
"I will come with you," the Cat Animagus stated with a voice full of authority.
Harry did not even dare to argue. The odd group of the two witches followed by the four familiars made the journey almost in complete silence towards the West Tower, which housed the Owlery. On the way, it was only Frey's quiet hissing that could be heard and Peeves knocking objects over in the distance. Harry thought it would be difficult to find Endor but the owl had made his home in one of the lower alcoves, next to a beautiful snowy owl that Harry guessed was Ygraine's familiar.
Endor, who had been busy grooming his feathers by the moonlight, recognised his Witch's friend immediately and hooted in greeting at her. The owl looked positively ecstatic when he spotted the strange box under her arm.
"Hoot!" he exclaimed, flying down to a perch, eager to make a mail delivery again. His last delivery had been days ago to Malfoy Manor for an official RSVP from Druella and Harry about the Yule Ball.
Harry chuckled and conjured some parchment, quill and ink. She quickly penned a short letter for Griphook – with admittedly some snark embedded in the letter – and then conjured an envelope. "Hello, Endor! I have a job for you. I want you take this letter and box to Gringotts without delay but make sure to only give it to the goblin named Griphook. If anyone else tries to take it, you peck their fingers. Is that clear?"
Endor puffed out his chest. "Hoot!"
Harry smirked as Minerva handed her some string and she tied the letter to his leg; Minerva helped to fix a tough travelling string around the box to make sure Endor could maintain a proper grip on it throughout the journey. Druella's familiar took off out of the Owlery with a strong sense of determination.
"Well done, my friend," was all Minerva said as they left and made the journey back to the castle.
Harry could only give a curt nod in thanks, trying desperately to build a few more Occlumency dams around her emotions. Unfortunately, a serious spanner had been thrown into the works of those dams, because on the way back to the Slytherin dungeons Harry came to an abrupt halt.
Leaning against a column, was Loreley, dressed in a late 19th century mother-of-pearl nightgown; clearly she too had not bothered to change. The moment that yellow eyes met green, the realisation of the finality of her decision hit Harry like a freight train.
Minerva frowned in confusion; the familiars exchanged a look with each other. "Loreley, what are you doing here?" the Cat Animagus questioned.
Loreley did not answer, simply keeping her apologetic gaze on Harry. She approached her friend with a determined step and embraced her close. Harry found herself returning it in an instant. "Thank you, my friend," the Malfoy heiress whispered eventually.
Harry gave her a nod in gratitude as she was released from the embrace. She soon found her legs moving towards the Slytherin dorms without so much as looking back, followed closely by Athenaïs, Sigyn, Seraphina and Frey. You haven't grieved properly yet … I think it's time you permitted yourself to grieve.
But it was the sight that had met her when she entered that made the floodgates open in Harry's emotions.
The common room was practically full of people, all whispering amongst themselves. As soon as they had heard the entrance to Slytherin House open, all eyes had turned to her. She easily spotted Altair, Orion, Druella, Tom, Walburga, Ophelia, Ygraine, Arcturus, Heron, War and Avery. To her shock, even Mulciber, Dolohov, Malfoy, Bletchley, and Pucey were there. Everyone was still in their nightwear and all regarding her with varying degrees of emotion.
Altair was one of the first to take a few steps towards her. "Harry, are you all right? What in Merlin's name happened? There was this almighty shockwave-"
Altair's concern had inadvertently killed whatever resolve Harry had left to hide her emotions, making her knees actually weaken and buckle. She inadvertently dropped her scythe and Cloak to the ground as she felt herself weaken, like she had been cut from puppet strings.
Before she could hit the floor, though, Harry felt two gentle arms catch her and her head collapse against a shoulder instead of the cold stone of the common room. The smell of lemon-and-lime and lavender wafted up her nose. The Cursebreaker closed her eyes as she felt her tear ducts fill to the brim. She felt a third hand gently caress her head.
"Harry, what happened?" Altair asked urgently.
That question broke her entirely. Cascades of tears flowed from her eyes, one after the other. The howls of untreated trauma and despair filled the common room, forcing a couple of people to wince at the pain in it. A few of the younger years and the older years who had been trying to sleep but were woken by the tremors they had felt not too long ago. They poked their heads cautiously around their dorm doors. The children watched in shock the unspoken Queen of Slytherin writhe and scream against the side of Altair Nott, who was maintaining a tight, reassuring grip on her while the King of Slytherin was attempting to soothe her.
No one had an idea of what to do or what had happened to break the girl; everyone simply was rooted to their spot, listening to the banshee screams of the Lady Regnant of House Peverell, who was clinging to the Nott heir like he was her lifeline. It felt like it lasted for an eternity, and there was more than one quiet sigh of relief when the howls turned into sobs and then into quiet sniffling and hiccups.
It was then when they heard Harry speak.
"It is done … it is over. They are all gone … I gave it all up … I made my choice. I made it long time ago … but now … over … it's over … it's gone. They are gone … don't regret it, but they're all gone."
No one knew what to say. All that the Slytherins, from the youngest to the eldest, knew for certain was, that whatever Gringotts had sent her to deal with had driven Harry Evans-Peverell over the edge. The unspoken theory about the assignment that ran in their heads? Somehow, the assignment had led to Harry finding out that the rest of her friends and family were dead, officially.
Fighting her own tears, Druella had marched over to where her friend was still bawling her eyes out into Altair's shoulder – Altair looking as pained as Druella had ever seen and Tom Riddle still trying to soothe Harry, looking ominously calm – and knelt down in front of Harry. "Let's get you to bed," she stated gently and kindly. "You need sleep. We can deal with this tomorrow."
"There is … nothing to … deal with," Harry sniffed and hiccupped. "I … just need … to grieve. It's over … done with … dusted … they are gone."
Druella closed her eyes, fortifying her own Occlumency shields. "You still need your sleep."
"Sleep …" Harry repeated tiredly. "I need sleep … good idea … stupid goblins … stupid Unspeakables."
That last bit caused many a-gaze to be exchanged amongst the Slytherins. Druella ignored them all, gently peeling Harry out of Altair's arms. The Rosier heiress took a gentle but firm hold of her friend, helping the fragile girl to her feet and then guiding her towards their dorms, followed closely by Walburga, Ophelia, Ygraine, Seraphina, Sigyn, Bletchley and Pucey.
"I am going to strangle those fucking goblins!" Orion growled menacingly as soon as he was sure Harry was out of earshot. "I will send them so many curses they will rue the day they were all born!"
"Black, you have to calm down," Tom stated even as he saw the fire in the fireplace turn purple and jump to heights that began to scare the Slytherins into retreating back to their dorms.
"Calm down?!" Several vases broke as Orion's irate magic whipped around the room. Avery and Heron set about fixing them quite quickly in case Slughorn came to check on them. "One of my best friends has been reduced to a sobbing mess and you want me to calm down?!" He glowered at Altair, who was staring him down with a cold, hard look. "Why in Merlin's name aren't you angry?"
"Oh, I am. Possibly more than you," Altair reassured quietly, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "But I also know my anger will do no good. Not right now at least."
"Agreed. Destroying the common room will not undo what has been done," War concurred as Orion's eyes softened only slightly and he attempted to keep a hold on his magic.
"One thing's for certain: that shock wave and Peverell's incoherent babbling are linked to one another," Mulciber commented, shaking his head. "I have never felt anything like it before. It was like a bloody earthquake!"
"Hey! Peverell left her stuff behind," Dolohov added, pointing to the scythe and the Cloak. He frowned. "Wait a minute, why in the name of Avalon's magical apple trees does she have a scythe? Where did she get that from?!"
Tom and Altair frowned and moved towards the objects to pick them up but their path was blocked by a rather hostile Athenaïs, growling and hissing at them, letting out a warning Haaayyuooouaooo! Both boys had the good sense to back away from the stone dragon, neither keen on pushing her boundaries and losing an eye in the process.
Altair frowned. "Athenaïs, what the-"
"DO NOT TOUCH THAT SCYTHE!"
Much to the shock of everyone, somehow Loreley Malfoy, followed closely by Minerva and Artemis came barrelling into the common room.
"What the actual – Loreley Malfoy, how in the name of Morgana's tits did you get into our common room?!" Dolohov exploded. It was difficult to decide if he was more shocked at seeing a Ravenclaw and two Gryffindors in the Snake Pit or the fact all three were also in their nightgowns.
"Oh, please! You Slytherins are almost as painfully predictable in picking your passwords as the Gryffindors are," Loreley retorted in a rare snappy tone.
"Hey!" Artemis and Minerva protested.
Loreley ignored them. She glared at her brother, his friends and the other on-lookers, also turning a blind eye to Minerva and Artemis' wondering gazes – both intent on studying the Slytherin common room while they could. "Do not touch that scythe! Levitate it if you must, but under no circumstance touch it physically!"
"Sister, what the hell do you know about this thing?" Abraxas demanded, staring at the weapon with wide eyes, as did the others.
"Harry's family friends have been training her, brother," Loreley answered coolly. "That scythe is part of the training – that is all I know. If anyone else touches it, it will react with hostility."
"How could you know this?" Mulciber demanded.
"Harry told me about the training sessions," Loreley replied serenely. "It's surprising what someone tells you when they trust you," she could help to add snarkily.
Mulciber could hardly believe his ears.
Loreley only smirked coldly. "I see you don't believe me. Well, touch it then. Let's see what happens."
No one stepped forth to take the challenge. War had drawn her wand and had cast a Levitation Spell on the weapon and, with Athenaïs close at her heels, brought the thing back to Harry's dorm, grumbling about bungling idiots and 'we need a better password to stop clever Ravenclaws from sussing it out'. Loreley had looked to Artemis, to everyone's surprise, to take the Cloak, which the confused Potter heiress did, not daring to vex her friend further.
It was only when Artemis returned, looking set to cry herself at the state she had seen Harry in, that the three invaders from the other Houses took their leave. After three shocking events in a row, the Slytherins tried to go back to bed, to try and get some more sleep. But, admittedly, it had been a very painfully long process.
Especially since the cries of despair belonging to the Lady Regnant still rang in their ears.
##############################
Dear Griphook,
As you may have guessed, things did not quite go according to plan. The damn device left me with no choice – it was self-defence. Apologise to the clients for me, would you? And tell them 'you're welcome'. Sorry if I sound rather curt – it has been a long day.
May your enemies fall at your feet,
Lady Hera Peverell
Griphook, King Ragnok – who was nursing his right hand after being bitten by the owl who had delivered the letter and box containing the destroyed Time Compass – and Rollo were staring at the remnants of the pesky device and re-reading the short, snarky letter from the Lady Regnant over and over again. The three of them had been unceremoniously dragged out of their beds and away from their paperwork by a very disgruntled Goldheart, whose own hand had at least three owl bites on it. He had also earned himself a bump on his head, from one of Griphook's shoes that had hit the top of Goldheart's noggin during Griphook's usual awoken-too-early tantrum.
As it turned out, Endor had taken Harry's order very seriously! The King had soon learned just how serious the familiar had taken the order when he too made the folly of trying to take the letter. Only Griphook had been allowed to take it and read it; Endor only took off once it was in the hands of the correct goblin.
The two goblins and the Head Cursebreaker could barely contain their jubilation and their relief after reading the letter and taking a look at the mangled shell of the Time Compass.
She had done it. She had done it! She had actually done it!
"Well," Rollo was eventually the first to speak, relief coating his tone, after putting the broken corpse of the Compass back onto the table, "I think it is safe to say the Compass has been dealt with quite thoroughly."
Thank you, thank you, thank you, he kept repeating internally to which ever deity had been hearing his prayers and had decided to answer them.
"The Unspeakables will not be happy about this, though," Ragnok stated grimly. "No doubt they had hoped that the Lady Peverell would simply be able to exorcise the malevolent spirit inside the Compass."
"Considering what the journals and reports stated about the thing, I think it is safe to say this outcome should have at least been expected," Griphook shook his head. "I mean, let's be honest, what did we expect to happen? The Lady Peverell is still a child, for Gleipnir's sake; one with a strong sense of self-preservation!"
Rollo nodded. "I think that if the Unspeakables are unhappy with the results, they should have reconsidered the decision to request us to involve a child in their messy business. They also should consider themselves lucky that apparently the Lady Peverell has survived this encounter with her sanity intact!"
"Still, we are obliged to inform our clients of what has happened. Griphook, see to it please," the King sighed reluctantly. Griphook bowed in acknowledgement and left to make the arrangements to get a message to the Unspeakables. "We will deal with the consequences as they arise. For now, we count our blessings that we do not have a scandal on our hands."
Rollo nodded. "Would you like me to inform him of Hera's success?"
The was a moment of silence as Ragnok pondered on that question.
"Yes, I think that would be a prudent idea. The sooner the better," the King decided after around a minute and a half. "Also inform your Cursebreakers. I have been getting rather tired just by looking at Miles and Oscar. Those two have been jumpy off late. Satoshi has always been suitably composed but Katerina dropped two tea cups the day before and was checking every newspaper she could find for a hint of a magical accident at Hogwarts."
Rollo nodded grimly. He had been doing the exact same thing.
"Oh, and Rollo? Write to your cousin before you draw suspicion to yourself because you're ignoring your unofficial younger sister," the goblin king smirked.
The double agent shuffled his feet, flushing with embarrassment. "Yes, Your Grace."
"Have you heard anything more since the last telegram about a 'visitation' ?" the King wanted to know.
"No, nothing. Radio silent," Rollo sighed. "But then again, they know I am unable to communicate anything about the Dark Lord's new toy because of the gag order."
"Something I will regret doing for the rest of my life," Ragnok stated bluntly, taking the Head Cursebreaker slightly aback. "A child should not have faced what she did on her own."
"Yes, there was a lot of debate going around my people," Rollo informed grimly.
The King nodded. "I can imagine." He then grinned a toothy grin. "Is it true you have been invited to the Malfoy family's Yule Ball again this year?"
The double agent laughed. "Yes. I do not see why the Lady Malfoy insists on extending the invitation to me every year. I haven't attended the Yule Ball since I joined Gringotts."
"Well, perhaps you should," Ragnok grinned. "Otherwise the other wand-wielders might start getting funny ideas about you."
"They already do, Your Grace," Rollo pointed out, flushing with embarrassment.
"You deserve to have at least one night of fun, you know," the King stated. "Given everything you have … sacrificed. I am also sure your cousin would find it all more bearable if you showed up."
Rollo couldn't argue with that. Ophelia was likely going to be paraded to the Mulcibers, Averys and perhaps even the Dolohovs again; it wouldn't hurt to make sure he could put on the scary-cousin-unofficial-big-brother act to try and ward off any unsuitable contenders.
"I will think about it," he promised.
The King grinned. "Well, do not make it too long. The deadline for the RSVP is overmorrow." He exhaled sharply. "I think it is time to retire for tonight. Hopefully nothing more exciting occurs until tomorrow. Good night, Mr. Rowle."
Rollo bowed and found himself genuinely smiling, left over relief showing itself. "Good night, Your Grace."
It was safe to say that as he went to bed that night after sending the telegram to the creepy-eyed Dark Lord, Rollo didn't need to use the extra Dreamless Sleep that had been provided for him.
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Despite wanting to have an evening listening to Beethoven and simply reading some good old Goethe, Gellert was half annoyed and half jubilant that his evening plans had been put on a halt by the reports given to him by his best and most trusted followers. Especially when it was clear that Rowle had been in touch – at long last! Indeed, Grindelwald had barely been paying attention to Queenie informing him that the Resistance had gone back to England, London to be exact, to find the Flamels and that raids into the Soviet Russia to find some of Grindelwald's treasures, as he called them, were going to be carried out imminently. The list of potential targets for his own raids almost flew over his head entirely as he continued to mull over the information his little rat inside Gringotts delivered.
"So … our favourite Cursebreaker has completed yet another task, but it is still unknown as to what she has done." Grindelwald was pacing up and down the sitting room area of his chambers, munching on one of the appelflappen Vida, Queenie and Credence had begrudgingly brought back from their mission. The effort they had put in into getting three of the pastries was ridiculous! "How disappointing and boring."
"It sounds as though something else may be going on, though," Vida told him. "Unspeakables being involved? This is highly unusual."
"Agreed, my dear Vida," Grindelwald grinned.
"It does explain why the poor dove was put under a gag order," Queenie added.
Grindelwald actually twirled around on his heel. "Which makes this a whole lot more exciting! I cannot wait for an update already." He turned to Credence, who was still petulantly refusing to look him in the eyes. "Credence, dear boy, would you go and take some more photos of our lovely guests for Rollo? I am sure the poor boy has been fretting when the next batch would come, but alas, he had nothing entertaining or useful to tell me so – but that has been rectified!"
Credence rolled his eyes but did as he was told to, nonetheless.
Grindelwald then turned his mind to the other two matters. "Vida, I want you to send our best and brightest to secure my beloved treasures and then pay a visit to the locations so kindly given to us to visit. Bring back anything, or anyone, remotely fascinating! Queenie, I wish for you to get in touch with some of our sleeper agents in England and tell them to keep a very close eye out for anyone who may be visiting Ambrose and Bradley in St. Mungo's."
"Hmmm," Queenie grinned as she picked up on her master's train of thought. "Excellent notion, doll. I will get onto that right away."
The Dark Lord frowned thoughtfully and then lit up. "Ask them also to send the two of them some flowers with my regards. Let's not be rude; I bet they have not received any get-well soon cards, poor dears."
Vida and Queenie gave each other a pointed look but said nothing. There was no point; Gellert was not going to listen to them anyway.
The Dark Lord then frowned again. "Oh, I just remembered! When is that new shipment of cookies coming? I am positively dying for a chocolate cookie."
The two Generals of the Alliance fled the room as quickly as they could, both women practically running in their precariously high heels. Both had decided in a split second that their missions were far safer than telling the Dark Lord that they had ordered almond cookies instead of chocolate ones.
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So, Harry has made the decision to not only destroy the Time Compass but seems to have finally drawn a close on an internal matter she has been battling with for the past few months. But the Unspeakables may not be too happy to find out what has happened to it; is this business truly finished? Plus, Grindelwald seems to be up to something – again. What will happen next – you will have to stay tuned to find out!
This one took me a while guys, mainly because I spent quite a bit of time on the debate/argument between Harry and the Time Compass. I went through several different scenarios before someone suggested to use Harry's scythe to destroy the thing in a kind of symbolic act.
Once more, this story is built in the sand pit provided by and built by JK Rowling.
Orion: I still hate those goblins.
I understand completely, Orion.
Grindelwald: I still think you should curse them, Black.
DO NOT GIVE HIM IDEAS!
Grindelwald: You gave him the idea first!
*Grumbles incoherently* See you next chapter everyone.
Kingmaker'sUmbreon