CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
"I really hope you girls are not going to force me into making an effigy next Imbolc. This sparrow looks like it has a birth defect!"
"Oh Dru, stop being so negative!"
"Lia, you know I am right. I just can't make an effigy – do you remember that Grindylow that I made? Somehow that looked more terrifying than the real thing! I swear, if I put it in the Black Lake with actual Grindylows, they'd faint."
"Druella-"
"Wally, don't you start as well! You hate making an effigy almost as much as I do. Last year you were nearly swearing like a sailor because you made one small mistake."
Walburga huffed. "The nightjar's wing just did not look right!"
Harry had been smirking throughout the argument between her friends. She had been surprised that this had not happened earlier; it was two days before Imbolc so she wasn't too surprised that Druella was freaking out. If the Lady Peverell had to be honest, she was rather glad her friends were kicking up a fuss because it allowed her to be distracted from the constant irritation she had at not solving Grindelwald's box and the other extra pressures that she had. Quietly, Harry had been glad that her friends had asked to postpone Old Magick training until after Imbolc again because of it.
"I think you hate effigy making mostly because you feel forced into it," Harry could not help but supply her thoughts as she looked up from her books on Animancy for a moment, smiling at her friends as she did so. "I think that if you felt like the creation was entirely your own, you wouldn't feel like this."
"Probably not," Ygraine readily agreed. "But effigies are traditional, and well – I think you know what is coming next."
Harry laughed shortly. "Purebloods love their tradition," she stated out loud. "Well, I think Brighid would rather have something that came from the heart rather than tradition. I know, I know, I am heretical, thinking that I can know the mind of a deity, but still; I think I can make an educated guess."
"You do have a point," Walburga concurred, "but we have very little choice but to do what is instructed of us. We have until June, and then – we are on our own and can start making a few decisions of our own."
"Those with us with families and fiancés who are open minded enough," Druella grumbled, glaring down at her clay sparrow. "Morgana's ill-sewn petticoats, you girls are probably going to be sick of how much you see me in a week. I don't think I will be able to stomach being near Cygnus for too long. I am already liable to throw my shoes at him and we're not even bloody married! I don't think it is healthy that I know how to throw a dagger and shoot because he might turn into my target!"
Sigyn meowed in agreement, with Seraphina rolling her eyes. Athenaïs went to comfort Druella by gently nuzzling her, which the Rosier heiress more than appreciated.
Harry did not say anything; she had expected a lot of stress to suddenly come forth two days before Imbolc, mostly because her friends still had the tendency to try and bottle up most of their potent emotions. Ophelia, though, decided to move the topic onto something a little bit more safer.
"Harry, do you think you could do your sleeping spell again? Just for tonight? I think we all need a good night's sleep, and I don't know about you, girls, but I have been having strange dreams for a good few days now."
"Yes, please! Harry, just knock us out!" Ygraine practically begged. "You don't even have to do your fancy singing spell – just use an Old Magic spell. I don't mind!"
"Oh that sounds tempting indeed. I got a letter from Mother about my wedding venue today. I need that sleeping spell," Walburga added.
Harry rolled her eyes. "Wally, I think you are making a little bit of a fuss-"
"Of course I am making a fuss! One does not simply rush the decision to choose a wedding venue and my mother has decided to become impatient," Walburga huffed. "I need your input – all of you – but first, I need to be able to think straight. And I cannot think straight without sleep!"
Seraphina meowed in agreement this time with Sigyn looking ready to push her friend into the fount in the middle of the room while Atty looked on in amusement. Harry took a moment to consider, but given how badly her friends had been sleeping and the odd things she too had experienced in the Realm of Hypnos, it didn't take too long for her to internally consent to Ophelia's request.
"Plus, an early night might do us all some good," Druella added simply.
"Well, I am not going to knock you girls out with an Old Magic spell," Harry stated as she began mentally going through a list of good songs that could fit for the spell. "I also don't want to use the same lullaby – that is just boring-"
"What about the tune you hummed not too long ago?" Druella suggested.
"I hum a lot; you're going to have to be a bit more specific," Harry grinned.
"The one Billy Prewett asked you about – the one you used to sing with your friends," Druella clarified.
Ah, Running Up That Hill.
Harry's grin widened as she nodded. "Sure. Do you want violin music or no music with your song?"
"Just your voice," Ygraine volunteered her answer immediately, the other girls nodding in agreement.
"As you wish," Harry got up from her bed and went to make herself comfortable in front of the windows.
"Just don't get up to any mischief while we're asleep, or train sneakily without us," Ophelia smirked as she began getting comfy under her sheets.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry vowed, chuckling. "You girls ready for bed?"
Druella and Ygraine dived under their sheets while Sigyn quickly jumped from Ophelia's bed as the Rowle heiress bedded down as well. Harry almost had to laugh at their exuberance. The Traveller focused on the snakes carved around her room and the ones carved around the Slytherin dungeons, and focused on the life forms that she sensed in the dorms. Almost on instinct, she began to sing.
# It doesn't hurt me
Do you wanna feel how it feels?
Do you want to know-know that it doesn't hurt me?
Do you wanna hear about the deal I'm making?
You, it's you and me
And if I only could, I'd make a deal with God
And I'd get Him to swap our places
Be running up that road, be running up that hill
Be running up that building
Say if I only could, oh
You don't wanna hurt me
But see how deep the bullet lies
Unaware, I'm tearing you asunder
Oh, there is thunder in our hearts,
Is there so much hate for the ones we love?
Oh, tell me we both matter, don't we?
You, it's you and me
It's you and me, you won't be unhappy
And if I only could, I'd make a deal with God
And I'd get Him to swap our places
Be running up that road, be running up that hill
Be running up that building
Say if I only could, oh
You, it's you and me
It's you and me, you won't be unhappy
Come on baby, come on darling
Let me steal this moment from you now
Come on angel, come on, come on darling
Let's exchange the experience, oh
If I only could, I'd make a deal with God
And I'd get Him to swap our places
And be running up that road, be running up that hill
With no problems #
While Harry sang, Atty went about the room and checked the status of everyone; girls and familiars were knocked out. The Gargouille almost chirped with laughter at the sight. Once Harry tailed off finally into humming, the Traveller tiptoed back to her bed and put her books on Animancy away in favour of that accursed box that Grindelwald sent her. Athenaïs scowled a little at this – she just wanted Harry to get an early night because Imbolc's Eve was just as mad as Imbolc itself so Harry was going to be exhausted the following day. But it seemed that the young Lady Peverell was in a stubborn mood that evening.
Again.
Harry barely noticed her familiar's indignation. She was too occupied with analysing the sigils and trying to see which combinations of sigils matched with each other. Whatever this magical mechanism was, it was extremely advanced and well thought out; Grindelwald really knew how to pick his projects! But Harry supposed that was the whole point. This was not just to assess her power. The Dark Lord wanted to see how clever she was too. In some ways, it was almost like a coo-coo grandfather was sending his granddaughter the latest impossible puzzle to solve.
This thought made the Traveller smile wryly. Despite the fact he wants me dead, he still wants to see if he can solve my enigma, Harry thought to herself. Voldemort never did that – then again, he only wanted me dead and never considered anything else.
Harry chuckled quietly to herself at this point, shaking her head despondently. Maybe she really was going mad? Jury was probably still out on that one!
Perhaps a little madness is needed to solve this damn thing? Harry pointed out to herself. After all, Grindelwald and the man who created this thing are not exactly sane themselves. Someone who is sane cannot solve this.
But perhaps, it is also a good idea to go to sleep and spend another day or two mulling things over?
Harry smirked to herself. Hypnos – a little bit miffed I am not in the Realm yet? Am I late for a Sort the Psychopomp shift?
Not necessarily, but yes, the God of Sleep answered with a tone of amusement. That is not why I have decided to check in with you. Thanatos asked me to make sure you go to sleep on time, and well – I am going to be cooking an Imbolc meal for Rollo and Meg and I have no idea what to cook!
Harry blanched for a moment. Why in the name of everything divine are you asking me? Perrie is much better with cooking dishes than I am!
Yes, but she has only given names of traditional dishes and I don't want to do something those two could have every year, if Harry didn't know better, it sounded like Hypnos was pouting.
And you thought 'ah, let's go to Harry – she doesn't give a fig about tradition'? Harry teased.
Well, I wouldn't put it that crudely, but yes.
Hey, at least I know where I stand, Uncle Hypnos, Harry laughed shortly. She then bit her lip. So it is going well between you and your little mortals, then?
Better than I could have hoped for. I cannot be around Rollo forever; he needs someone who he can trust, who will be his friend if not his lover, Hypnos answered quietly. It isn't fair on him otherwise.
You really are not like the other gods when it comes to your mortal lovers, are you? Harry could not help but pry. She had been internally dying to question her divine friends on how accurate some of the stories were about them, but she never found the courage or even the right moment to do so.
Most of the immortals would say not. You could say that when Thanatos and I love, we love more deeply than most of our family, Hypnos sighed. I can count on one hand how many mortals I have truly loved.
Endymion being the first, Harry stated with confidence.
Indeed. A mortal shepherd who was taken with Selena, the Moon, Hypnos laughed mirthlessly. My first mortal love was one that was unrequited! Zeus and Poseidon still enjoy a good laugh at my expense over it.
Damn, was all Harry thought was appropriate to reply to that.
Indeed. Zeus put Endymion into an eternal slumber; when Selena wasn't there, he and I would just talk. It was foolish, I know, but I fell for him. The man had such a bright mind, and yet he spent his days herding sheep and scaring off wolves. He was the first true astronomer, and yet he was content with his lot in life. Never expected the love of two deities … selfless. Passionate, with zero ambition.
A rarity, Harry stated.
Yes, Hypnos's voice was soaked in affection, despite being barely a whisper. I loved him until Thanatos came for his soul. As I did with the others – as I will do with Rollo.
Harry suddenly felt tears prick in her eyes. How can you watch them die?
Because I have no other choice. It is not their destiny to live forever,
Hypnos answered quietly. No matter how much I may wish it. The Moirai write the rules when it comes to a human's fate, and no god can do anything to change it. You know this, Mistress of Death.
Better than most, Harry agreed. It still isn't easy.
No, Hypnos agreed. No it isn't. The god sighed. I think you need to go to bed. You philosophise too much when you're tired. That box can wait until after Imbolc.
And as for dinner, I think you should just do what feels right, Harry responded easily. Take a leaf out of the Hera Peverell book – one of the lesser suicidal ones. Be spontaneous and make sure it comes from the heart. Tradition be damned!
Hypnos was smiling on the other end of the Link. Thank you, Harry. For everything.
I should be the one thanking you, Hypnos. You all saved me – in more ways than one.
With that, she and the God of Sleep both closed the Link. Harry turned her eyes back onto the box in front of her, and sighed deeply. The Cursebreaker put her project once more back in its trunk and too settled down for the night, Athenaïs beaming as she too went to bed.
Indeed, Hypnos hadn't been jesting when he said that Harry was late for her psychopomp sorting shift, because almost as soon as Harry was in the Realm, the visions began once more. Of people marching in woods – soldiers and concentration camp prisoners alike – of wizard-versus-Muggle combat, of bombardments continuing, and innocent lives being taken under the chaos of war.
Angels, Reapers, Anubites, Baron Samedi souls – one after the other; Harry barely registered the faces of a few of them. Eventually, just as she was getting a headache from all the snuffed out lives she was forced to consider and see, the Mistress of Death felt a hand on her shoulder. At first, Harry thought she was imagining things but the squeeze that she felt was real enough to knock her to her senses.
Issue was, she knew she could not look at whoever it was until the visions were done. Harry had to endure what felt like one hundred more until they finally petered out and left her alone for the rest of the night. Instantly, she turned around to see who had witnessed scenes that no other mortal should witness. When her verdant gaze met familiar hazel ones, her heart sank.
"Altair," she whispered.
Her lover smiled softly. "Hello, Harry. It seems all that training with Hypnos has finally paid off."
"What do you mean?" Harry frowned. Realisation soon hit her like a ton of bricks. "Wait. Have you … Have you been spying on me?"
Harry had had a feeling that someone had been watching her through her dreams of late. Now it seemed she knew why.
Altair looked suitably guilty. "Not spying. Not exactly anyway. I … erm … I have been Dream Walking, mostly between you and Tom. Atty sometimes as well. Ophelia by accident. I even saw some of Druella and Walburga's dreams, but I left those pretty quickly."
"Of course," Harry relaxed a little. "Part of the powers that was transferred to you. Momentarily forgot."
Altair nodded gingerly. "I have tried to reach out before but it has never worked. I still can't believe you have to go through all of this – it's … overwhelming."
"Yeah, sometimes," Harry laughed shortly as she let herself be pulled into a warm embrace by her lover. "I am pretty much used to it by now though."
"Doesn't mean that it doesn't take a toll on you," Altair replied gently, planting a kiss on the side of her head. "I think I understand why you didn't tell Tom and me about how bad it can get. I have avoided your head for a couple of nights because it's just so intense. I am so sorry."
"No, don't apologise," Harry scoffed. "I know I have been distant with all of you about … a couple of things." She swallowed. "I don't want to be, you have to believe me, but – my hands have been tied by divine goddesses of fate-"
"Harry, stop. We get it, we do," Altair cut across gently. "Tom and I don't like it, but we get it. It is just a price to pay when one falls for the Mistress of Death. All we ask is that, once you can, you tell us what has been going on."
Harry felt herself smile sadly as Altair let her go. "I promise."
"That's all we ask. That, and that you dance with the both of us at the Festival."
"I thought that was already a given?"
Altair grinned mischievously. "Well, Zagreus is going to be there and-"
Harry rolled her eyes. "He is Melinoë's brother, not my future Consort."
"I was teasing," Altair chuckled, but nonetheless looked very pleased to hear that.
"I know, meanie," Harry petulantly stuck her tongue out at him. "I should really kick you out of my section of the Realm for it, you blackguard."
Altair smirked, rather insufferably in her opinion, and cupped her cheek as he drew her in for a passionate kiss. Harry had no idea how it was possible, but she wagered that Hypnos did teach Altair a trick or two. As for Altair, he was quietly celebrating all that training was indeed paying off, big time!
Harry could not help but draw him closer to her, deepening the kiss further. Altair moaned appreciatively. As he cared his fingers through her curls, Altair broke the kiss only for a moment; Harry could see that his eyes were fully black with desire.
"This is not all we are able to do," he stated hoarsely. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes," the answer came out of Harry's mouth without a second thought in a breathless whisper. Seeing her lover smirk, she knew in that moment she may have opened a dam that she had not entirely meant to.
And yet, Harry could not muster up any regret for it.
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Athenaïs wasn't sure if Imbolc was going to make her top three list of human Sabbaths since Samhain and Yule were pretty difficult to beat, but she quickly discovered it could very well be. Imbolc Eve was awful, though, with everyone stressing last minute about their effigies and having to eat some really weird foods at dinner – she had no idea what colcannon, sowans, barmbrack or bannocks were until then! Some of the foods really did taste and smell rather funny. Athenaïs was rather glad the familiars didn't have to partake in these weird humans foods unless they wanted to. Although Imbolc was strange, Atty was rather relieved that it distracted the entire school from the prospect of the new groundskeeper and Hagrid coming to the school in a few days.
Imbolc was – in the best way the Gargouille could describe to herself – the most fiery of the Sabbaths, and not only because fire was a crucial element to Imbolc. The lessons of the day were practically put on hold for the day and were replaced by lessons more focused on fire, nature and trips down to the lake. After lunch, there was no lessons for the students because the finishing touches needed to be put on the silly cart things called floats for the Festival that evening as well as the effigies. The humans also went to change clothes, dressing more in the lilacs, greens, yellows, whites; it was disconcerting in some cases, especially with the Slytherins. Athenaïs, Sigyn, Seraphina, Frey and several familiars watched the children and faculty in utter fascination, shouting, giggling and even cussing because something just wouldn't stick or something went wrong or something didn't look as good as they had expected it to look.
"There are days where I wish I could understand humans, but now I am not so sure I want to," Athenaïs commented to her friends through giggles.
*You shouldn't even try. Humans don't understand themselves half the time,* Frey huffed in irritation.
"I am just glad that we don't have to worry about all this unnecessary fuss," Sigyn scoffed.
"I do envy Aragog that he gets to skip it entirely, though," Seraphina sighed. "Imbolc is always such a headache."
Atty frowned at her friend. "I thought you liked Imbolc?"
"I do. Doesn't mean I don't get headaches!" Seraphina pointed out.
The Familiar of the Mistress of Death rolled her eyes.
When it was dusk, and finally time for the festivities to truly commence, Athenaïs was happy to lend a hand with Harry, Altair and Tom's effigies though. Altair's jackal needed a good kicking and Tom's Hungarian Horntail needed a good tickling for some reason – the Gargouille was baffled by magic sometimes – while Harry's butterflies didn't need any help what so ever to get started. No, the silly bugs took the skies when they needed to, leaving a trail of fire and their wings dancing with fire. Athenaïs was a little bit concerned when all the effigies took to the skies, all leaving fire trails as well even as they went over the tree tops. The young dragon knew that fire and trees did not mix!
All the humans, however, were playing music and singing the songs Harry had been practising, dressed in brighter colours than Atty had seen most of them wear up until this point. The floats were brought from Hogwarts to the centre of Hogsmeade village, where more people were dancing and singing and some, literally playing with fire. She would have been even more concerned, had Zagreus and Caius not asked her to dance, jokingly, but Atty happily agreed. The music really was very good!
"Come on, Atty! No droopy familiars allowed!" Caius had joked, beckoning her over.
"Indeed! Or I will have to tell Harry you're being mopey," the disguised god blackmailed happily.
Atty had rolled her eyes but she was like a snake under the influence of a snake charmer at the prospect of dancing with friends.
"All right, but if you stand on me, I will scratch you," she promised as she followed them to the middle of the town square where most of the residents and the Hogwarts students were already dancing, including her Mistress and the two future Consorts.
Zagreus smirked at this; Caius didn't know what she said, but smiled too, as though he did know what Atty had said. The Gargouille was happy to oblige her friends, but by the third song and the third dance, Athenaïs stopped having fun, because she had caught sight of Arcturus by the food table, looking like a lost, wounded hatchling, staring almost unblinkingly at Caius dancing with Zagreus. Atty was rather glad that most of the humans were occupied and having fun, because otherwise Arcturus Rosier would have some very awkward questions to answer.
Using her talents for slipping away, Athenaïs escaped from the party and joined the sad young boy, who was drinking pumpkin juice like his life depended on it. Quietly, the Gargouille hoped he had not put something in his drink. She suddenly wished that the Rosier boy could understand what she was going to say.
"Caius says that no droopy familiars are allowed at the Imbolc Festival. I think that same rule should extend to the humans," Atty teased as she came to sit like a stoic Bastet statue next to her friend's feet.
Arcturus jumped a little; he had not heard or sensed the familiar coming up to him, but he quickly recovered. "Hey, Athenaïs," he whispered with a breathless sigh. "You don't have to keep me company, you know. You're supposed to be having fun."
"So are you. Yet, you are not," Atty chirped, giving him a pointed look. She gently nudged his leg. "You need to save your own heart, and tell him how you feel, Arcturus! A human heart is a fragile organ – I saw what it did to Harry, what it did to Altair and what it did to Tom to hide how they felt about each other. Do not make the same mistake!"
The Gargouille knew that she was hissing and chirping perhaps a little too loudly to still pass authentically as a giant cat, but at this moment, Atty didn't give a rat's butthole that she could possibly be caught by Dumbledore or any of the others. This was too important. Arcturus was staring at her unblinkingly, almost as though he had understood everything she had said. The Rosier heir allowed a few tears to escape from his eyes before he quickly wiped them away.
"I have no idea … this makes no sense to me, Atty. I don't – I have no idea – this just feels so fast … I don't understand-"
"You humans never seem to understand your own feelings, do you?" Atty cut in, wincing a little at how snappy she sounded. "Caius wants you but is too scared to take you, and you are not scared to take what you want, but you stop yourself anyway. That is no way to live, for either of you. Either, you two talk, or you find a way to kill what feelings you have – for your own sakes."
"I am not going to kill my feelings, Atty," came the easy, determined answer.
Atty's eyes widened. Wait a minute … did he …
It was Arcturus's turn to smirk a little. "I didn't understand everything you said, if that is what you want to know. But I got some snippets; don't ask me how or why. I think it is because you see me as a friend, and I you as a friend as well. It can happen sometimes between familiars and the loved ones of their witch or wizard."
"Now you tell me," Atty huffed.
Arcturus chuckled. "I still don't understand everything you said so if you insulted me at any point, I do apologise for not being too offended," he teased.
"Idiot."
"Love you too, Atty." Arcturus sighed. "I just … what if I am not enough for him to admit to his father how … he feels?"
Atty's expression saddened. She nuzzled her friend's leg affectionately. "I don't think his father's opinion matters all too much in this regard. A mate is a mate – it should not be the business of other humans to decide. But I am a Gargouille; a drakon. I suppose I have a very different way of looking at things," she sighed deeply. "I just want to see you both happy. With or without each other."
Arcturus seemed to be considering what she said for a moment, or perhaps translating what little snippets he did understand. For a moment, both he and Athenaïs watched the frivolity, laughing at Altair twirling Harry, Orion and Walburga's grace and dignity that looked rather stiff in comparison to many others, the Scottish dances Minerva was teaching Artemis and Druella – lost in the moment. Arcturus visibly relaxed at this point and put his cup down before crouching down to Atty's level.
"May I have this dance, Miss Athenaïs?" he asked with a smirk.
Atty, beaming, bowed gracefully to him. "I would be honoured, Heir Rosier."
#####################################################################
"Meg! You're just in time! Rollo just managed not to burn the roast pudding."
"Thank you, Henry! You promised not to tell her!"
"Well if you had just let me continue cooking, I wouldn't need to!"
Meg couldn't wipe the smile off her face as she entered Rollo's apartment, Henry taking her cloak and hat for her, causing Meg to flush quite red, which made her kick herself internally for acting like a lovestruck teenager. Something that had started to happen a lot more often the more time she spent with these two handsome wizards. Rollo was busy plating their Imbolc dinner, looking so domestic that it made Meg giggle a little. She had been surprised that Rollo and Henry had invited her for Imbolc – something Lorcan and Victor had been suspicious about – but she wasn't complaining.
This is starting to become a habit, Meg thought to herself. Why are they not with Mr. Burke and Miss Rollins for Imbolc?
"Did you get out of the bank without issues?" Rollo wanted to know as he brought the plates over to the dining table.
"Indeed. Thanks to Henry," Meg replied with a small smile.
Henry grinned, looking pleased with himself. "What would you like to drink?"
"I will take what you two are having," Meg reassured as she took her seat at the dinner table, resisting the urge to fumble with the cutlery nervously. She subconsciously began rubbing the back of her neck as Henry poured her a glass of wine. "So – I think we know each other well enough by now to say that we can stop beating about the bush and can safely say that you two invited me here for a reason. It must be important if you choose to spend a Sabbath with me, instead of your families."
Rollo and Henry exchanged a look as they too sat down; Meg had apparently hit the nail right on the head. It made her smile – it was almost adorable how obvious these two had been, and were utterly and completely unaware of how obvious they were.
"We did," Rollo agreed readily, sipping his own wine. "There is something rather important and … delicate that we wish to discuss with you."
Meg frowned a little. "Oh?" her heart started beating a whole lot quicker at this stage. Her fingers curled around her glass a little more tightly. "And," she cleared her throat, "what is this matter that concerns me somehow?"
Henry smiled softly at her. "You and I both know that the House of Rowle is conservative in its outlook. They are open-minded enough to accept my relationship with Rollo, but I will never …" he sighed deeply. "I can never be Consort – not only because of my own family's rules, but because the House of Rowle states that the Consort has to be female."
Meg's Hit Witch senses began sounding the alarms in her head. Wait a minute … no way.
Rollo continued, looking equally as nervous. "I know that we have only begun to get to know one another, but we both consider you a good friend already and I hope you liked spending time with us as well – I know I might not be ideal as a suitor but I haven't considered anyone as a wife until … now. I wish to court you properly – if you will have me, despite my complex situation."
Meg thought she would get a heart attack with how many beats her heart missed at hearing that. Her breath had nearly been taken away; her eyes widened in shock. The Hit Witch had had her suspicions about the motives of Rollo and Henry when it came to inviting her along to what were clearly private and domestic moments and outings, but now it seemed that her greatest of her suspicions – the one she had outright refused to consider was an actual possibility – was actually correct.
Even Lorcan and Victor had suspected what those two were up to!
I am telling you, Meg, one or both of them want you in there bed, Lorcan had sneered.
Wouldn't surprise me if Rowle wants you to be his lady wife, Victor had teased. He keeps inviting you everywhere – he may as well propose and be done with it!
Meg had slapped and kicked the both of them for both of these statements, mostly out of her embarrassment, but also because she had wanted to be with Rollo and Henry in any way that they wanted her. They had quickly become friends – not something Meg had thought she would make outside of her colleagues and adopted family. Friends was not a luxury she could have, let alone a family!
If Wisp caught wind of this, he would absolutely flip!
Meg considered for a moment and at this thought, she felt her jaw clench. Wisp; he had his claws in her and her destiny for far too long. She had been trained to kill since she were a child – all Meg knew, was how to spot an enemy, read a potential enemy and know how to survive a life that would very well kill her before she could truly live. Well, Meg always knew she wanted to survive this war and find a way to live a life that didn't require her to go onto a battlefield on a daily basis.
Rollo was handing her this option on a silver platter! Wisp, Meg decided quite quickly, could go to Tartarus.
Both Rollo and Henry had regarded her with anxious and slightly stressed out looks – clearly, they had rehearsed how they would best tell her, and clearly, they wanted to do it properly, and as naturally as possible. Meg had kind of blown up that plan like one of the supply trains that she had been ordered to explode because there had been a target on said supply train.
"Meg?" Henry pressed gently, looking concerned. He carefully put a hand on her shoulder. "Did … are we asking too much? Did we go too far?"
"No!" Meg exclaimed and she winced at how shocked she sounded. "No, you are not asking too much. No, no, no, no – you didn't go too far. I am just – I honestly don't know how I feel right now. But," she took a deep breath, "I am not saying no to your proposal of courtship. Not at all."
Rollo's and Henry's eyes bugged out almost comedically and soon they were smiling in absolute relief. Meg couldn't help but smile back at them at this point. "My only concern," she decided it was best to be honest, "is if I survive this stupid war, once Wisp catches on to where we are and tries to get Lorcan, Victor and myself back."
"Wisp will have to go through me," Rollo growled, cutting into his poor roast chicken with some viciousness.
Meg sighed. "Albus Dumbledore already suspects Gringotts of having us. It will only be a matter of time before he shares those suspicion with Wisp and the next thing I know, I will find myself back in Europe and being sent on the next mission, with Lorcan and Victor keeping a very close eye on me. They already suspect the both of you of seducing me into your bed."
Meg clamped her hand over her mouth at this very blunt confession, flushing. That blush only deepened when Rollo and Henry smirked.
"They are not entirely wrong," Rollo stated rather hoarsely. Meg was soon redder than a strawberry.
"Down, kitty," Henry teased. "Your House doesn't like them deflowered before the wedding ceremony."
"Could you stop?!" Meg hid her face in embarrassment while the men chuckled.
"All right, my Lady. We will stop – on one condition," Rollo smirked as he spoke and Meg dared to raise her head in almost masochistic curiosity.
"What condition?" Meg regretted asking that question as soon as it left her mouth.
"Nothing too major. Just a single kiss," Rollo's eyes shone with something that Meg could not translate.
Meg huffed. "You bloody scoundrel!"
"I am, I don't deny it," Rollo chuckled. "But I do not hear a 'no', Meg."
Meg swallowed. Without entirely meaning to, she looked to Henry and her eyes silently asked his permission. Henry seemed to sense this, smiled warmly at her and gave a nod or two in affirmation. Meg instantly relaxed and the moment she did, Rollo was on his feet and he came around to her. He gently cupped her cheek and his lips claimed hers in a kiss that was careful, respectful but had affection embedded in it. Meg found herself returning the kiss, turning the kiss slightly more heated – she had no idea if she was doing well, but given that she heard a low moan from her new suitor, Meg knew she was doing something right.
Rollo eventually tore his lips away from hers, his forehead leaning on hers. "Meg …"
Meg shivered at how feral he sounded. She was glad when Henry intervened. "Rollo, your food is getting cold. Remember, no deflowering your future wife!"
"Boring."
Meg spluttered while Henry snorted. "Yes I know. It is very boring. Now go and eat."
Rollo grinned, giving Meg a kiss on her temple before complying.
Damn, Meg began fanning herself. This is definitely going to take some getting used to!
########################################################################The Second Day of Imbolc, as Harry had come to know it as, was a rather calm, collected – relatively boring – day, mostly because everyone was recovering from the Festival the night before. None of the familiars were up early, some of the First and Second Years practically needed coffee as well and the only one who was semi awake was Professor Merrythought, who had been handing out detentions like sweets that day because people had not been as sharp as normal, and some had even fallen asleep in her classes.
Other than concerning herself with lessons and schoolwork, she, Orion and the Weasley twins did spend most of the day together, continuing their plot to turn Dumbledore even more silver than he already was. Their sigils were coming along nicely, she and Orion even had a few routines figured out and Harry had one or two songs prepared should all else fail. There was only one matter left that needed to be decided.
The line of succession; the new commentators that would take Harry and Orion's place once they left Hogwarts. True, the Hat could suggest one or two suitable candidates to the Headmaster, but both Lady Peverell and Heir Black decided that their legacy of making Dumbledore want to cry and drink Firewhiskey, needed to be preserved by two people who could give the Head of Gryffindor House a headache for a few more extra years.
As it turned out, Septimus and Octavius heartily agreed. "You cannot-"
"-simply have-"
"-anyone sitting-"
"-on your throne!" they had chorused dramatically when Harry and Orion informed them of their succession conundrum. "Dippet will-"
"-pick someone-"
"-who doesn't-"
"-do your-"
"-legacy justice!" Septimus and Octavius frowned in unison, genuinely pondering the problem.
"I also don't want the younger ones to think they are not eligible either," Harry informed as she folded her arms and paced up and down the abandoned classroom on the sixth floor that the four of them had decided to occupy. "And for some reason, the younger ones feel like they need their own form of liquid courage to approach us."
Octavius snorted. "Not too surprising! The Queen of Slytherin and the Heir of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black are forces of nature," he teased. "Billy, Avery Junior, Prince and Rookwood are unique in the fact that they know you – anyone else, they see some of the best wizards Hogwarts has."
"Well, we have to find a way to make us look less scary then," Orion stated with a grin.
"Yeah, good luck with that," Septimus chuckled. "Harry is scary in general and you are so loud, you scare people away!"
"Septimus!" Harry protested as Orion pouted.
"What? It's true!"
"Doesn't mean you have to point it out!"
"Yes, it does-"
"OK!" Octavius cut in before the discussion could go nowhere. "So, how do we make our two very scary friends more approachable?"
Harry frowned for a moment and then suddenly, the idea hit her like a freight train. It was so obvious that she kicked herself internally for not thinking of it sooner. She began giggling, which made her friends frown in concern.
"Eerrr, Harry? You OK?" Septimus asked in concern.
"Think she had too much sugar in the coffee," Octavius supplied.
"Shush," Harry rolled her eyes. "No I have just come up with an idea that could solve it."
Orion lit up. "Well don't be shy! Tell us!"
Harry grinned. "Auditions, of course."
Realisation crossed the faces of the Weasleys and Orion.
"Auditions? Auditions – why in the name of everything good and magical did we not think of that before?" Septimus was really kicking himself, it was almost funny.
"OK, so the next question is, do we do face to face auditions or do we ask them to record something and give it to us to watch – like a comedy piece or a fake commentating segment?" Orion continued.
"Oooo that could actually work," Octavius grinned. "Especially with the extra shy small people."
"And Octavius and I could be in charge of it," Septimus added. Harry and Orion looked set to protest but the twin gave them a pointed look. "You both have enough on your plates, especially you, Harry. Damn Cursebreaker while still at school! You really must have been a child soldier because no one else is that bloody mad!"
Harry chuckled, rolling her eyes.
Orion huffed with exasperation but started laughing. "Well if you both insist-"
"We do!"
"Well, I suppose there is no point arguing with the pair of you on this, then," Harry stated. "Guess we will leave you to it."
"You won't regret this, Harry!" the Weasley twins chorused happily.
Orion then looked at his pocket watch and his eyes bugged out. "Oh Holy Hades, we need to get going everyone! We have less than ten minutes to get to our classes!"
Harry, Septimus and Octavius blanched, packed up quickly and all four of them scattered in different directions to get their next classes – Orion and Harry went in the same direction for a bit; Harry needed to get to Herbology and Orion to his Ancient Runes class.
Much to Harry's surprise, on the way, her best friend brought up a subject that he hadn't in a while. "I have been meaning to ask … how is that Gringotts assignment of yours going?"
Harry swallowed. "Slowly. Extremely slowly – annoyingly so."
Orion hummed. "I don't know if you know this, Harry, but our friends, and I am inclined to agree, suspect that there is definitely something more to that assignment than just another simple cursed object."
Harry's heart skipped a few beats. Orion then continued. "Avery even suggested using Legilimency practise to try and find out what has been going on with you, but Tom shut that idea down quite quickly, I am told! Harry, you know you can trust me – I won't tell anyone unless you say I can, but I need to know. Is this thing another Grindelwald test?"
For a moment, the Lady Peverell thought about lying; she had gotten no indication from Loreley if it was safe or even permitted to talk about what was going on – about this project, about Gemini going to be taken … However, this was Orion. He had sussed her out in less than a minute in the beginning; he had discovered her status as Mistress of Death on his own. If he wanted to, Orion could simply study her, know all her tells, and figure it out for himself.
Harry used her life form sensing abilities to see if there were any potential eavesdroppers near them; no there wasn't. The Grey Lady was heading in their direction, though. The Lady Peverell sighed deeply. "Why is it that I can never seem to hide anything from you?"
"Because I know you, Harry," Orion stated.
"That, and for some reason, I just can't lie to you," Harry scoffed to herself.
Orion didn't answer that but he also knew that he didn't need to. "Just promise me that you're taking every precaution with whatever it is you're working on."
"I am doing my best," Harry reassured gently. "Issue is, I think that no matter what precautions I take, I am very likely missing something. Because whatever it is, Grindelwald isn't messing about this time."
"Yes, I fear as much," Orion sighed. He then smiled wryly. "Maybe you should send him a Venomous Tentacula in revenge?"
"Trust me, I am tempted," Harry assured with a huff.
"Well, if you want me to come up with something fun as well, let me know," Orion's eyes glinted with a malice that Harry still was not used to seeing in his eyes.
Harry found herself smirking. "I will."
When she and Orion parted, Harry knew that today needed to be the day that she solved the puzzle. It needed to be dealt with – now! Her suspicion seemed to be confirmed when Loreley gave her a knowing look as she joined her, Altair and Heron for Herbology and for the hunt of the rare moonleaf flower that Professor Griffith insisted needed to be hunted that day because it was not only fun, but necessary. Apparently, the matron had run out and had asked Professor Griffith to harvest some, but he had forgotten.
"Of course he bloody did!" Altair had muttered, shaking his head as they trudged after their teacher to the lake. "Considering all the fuss at Imbolc every year, it doesn't surprise me that he forgets things more often around this time."
"Altair," Harry had stated warningly.
"I am behaving, my love."
"Yes, now," Heron had teased easily.
"One mistake can lead to the key to open the next door," was all Loreley had to contribute to the discussion. It sent shills running up Harry's spine, though.
The prophecy stayed in her head for the rest of the day. So much so that she skipped dinner altogether to collect Grindelwald's little test and headed straight for the Serpentine Corridor, determination fuelling her every step. Harry set up in her usual classroom, surprised that there were fresh sigils drawn into the ground.
Funny. She could have sworn that she had gotten rid of them the last time she was there. Harry shook her head, pushing the thought from her mind. The Cursebreaker knelt down in the middle of the sigil, set the box down, placed the containment around it, and began to get to work, getting all her notes out and once more focused on matching the strange symbols with each other.
This sigil with this one … then with this one … no … this one … OK, got the third at last … nothing is happening – must be a fourth one in this combination. This one? No. This one? No … this one … ah-ha!
Harry smirked to herself as the magic in this sequence of sigils fizzled out.
OK … next … maybe this one with this one – nope they don't like each other. OK how about these two? OK – good – next … oh first time lucky – yippee – how about this … no OK … this one? Nope – bloody hell, sigils are so picky! Ah-ha! Got ya now!
Another combination fizzled and whirring could be heard inside the box, from the clicking it seemed that finally, it was perhaps unlocking. Harry could barely believe it; she only had a few more combinations to go!
Harry got onto the task with gusto, relieved that her efforts were finally paying off. There were a few more – ten or so – tries that failed but finally, as though it were sewn into her Tapestry of Life, the final combinations were discovered, and soon they too petered out and at long last, Harry was able to open the accursed box.
Exercising utmost caution, the Cursebreaker opened the device, wand at the ready. She only relaxed a jot when the box opened, no curses, hexes or jinxes were released, no evil spirts were set free or that the room was spontaneously set on fire. Harry decided to keep those thoughts to herself; knowing her luck, that could happen anyway!
Carefully, Harry peered into the box. There, nestled in the middle, was the strange seal that she had seen in her History Revelation spell. As she carefully lifted it out – a strange wax thing with binding runes and sigils all over it – the young Traveller found her jaw clench in irritation. Bloody hell – another puzzle to solve!
"I should really give you a taste of your own medicine," Harry grumbled out loud, her eyes flashing silver in annoyance.
She was back to square one! Now she needed to figure out what in the name of everything good and magical this seal was protecting – and why Grindelwald had seen fit to send it to her.
###########################################################################
Thunder rumbled over Nurmengard as normal. The past few days it had done so because of its owner's utter distaste and hatred for the Sabbath of Imbolc. While he had permitted his supporters to celebrate it, Gellert had made sure that he had kept as far away from the festivities as possible. He had distracted himself with raid planning, visiting some of his prisoners to make sure they were not completely bored, teasing Nagini with some music and enjoying his puzzles with a nice cup of tea.
On this particular evening, Gellert had been reading when a vision had come to him, showing him the success of the young Hera Peverell breaking the prison around the inner prison of his little surprise. The Dark Lord smirked to himself, chuckling.
"About time, Lady Peverell," he nearly giggled. "Now let us see how well you deal with the inhabitant inside … Dementors are tame in comparison to her!"
The book was soon left forgotten in favour of Gellert putting on some music and beginning to dance around his study, humming along to the music. Outside, the thunder of the storm crashed and the lightning flashed to the beat of the music, which made Queenie, who too had been trying to spend an evening catching her breath after Imbolc, look out of her window in concern and resignation.
"Be careful, Hera," Queenie found herself whispering to herself. "You have no idea what you will be facing …"
##########################################################################
One seal has been broken – now Harry has to deal with the second; or does she? What or who lurks within? Whose mistake will open a new door way to the future? Stay tuned to find out!
Oh my gods, you have no idea how relieved I am to finally update again. I know I am rather late with this update: I was spending time with friends and family, who insisted I spend some time away from my laptop, we have had to deal with the strikes in England and a few days ago there was a death in the family thus funeral arrangements had to be made, soooo yeah. My schedule has been thrown into utter mayhem and I will try to get in back in track, but please just bear with me.
Quick disclaimer: my story is a sandcastle built in JK Rowling's sandbox and Running Up That Hill is definitely not mine either! I am simply doing this for the fun of it!
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