CHAPTER 7:

THE WAKE

The heartfelt talk between Harry and Morgan helped them both, Morgan believed. It felt like a weight of sorts had come off her heart from his unexpected compliment, and while there were still things weighing it down, any relief was better than none. And she hoped that she had stemmed his inner darkness, or at least had diverted it. The Weasley boy was a selfish little fool, but he was in pain too.

Still, the comparison with Uther was a little perturbing to her. Uther was only a year or two Harry's senior when they first met. Love at first sight was a fallacy that too many humans and Fae believed in, and yet, while she couldn't call it love at the time, it held the seeds of it.

Did she see Harry in the same way? She wasn't sure. She had spent less than a fortnight with him. Even now, she was feeling out what their relationship was to be. Honorary family, with him as a son or brother? A student to her mentor? Platonic friends? Or something more, just as she and Uther had been, before Mab's marriage offer, and then treacherous poison took him from her?

Part of the reason she wasn't sure was because she wasn't the best person when it came to interpersonal relationships. She remembered telling Mash that she saw those she travelled with as tools, means to an end, and while that was to spare the Homunculus Demi-Servant heartbreak in facing her future self, her tyrannical other half, it wasn't without a grain of truth. But it was due to being hurt so many times by betrayal or the death of her comrades. It was a coping mechanism, trying to detach herself from her comrades. She got the feeling that Mash saw through that lie, though by the time Mash confronted her other half, it wouldn't have been a lie anymore.

Given Mash's words, her successor would be around at the time. Mash had certainly been mistaken for the 'Child of Prophecy', probably the next Avalon le Fae. Morgan pitied whoever it was. Being a saviour was not a fate she would wish on anyone, even with a grateful populace.

In any case, she had time aplenty to suss out what their relationship would be, and what they would be comfortable with. Given the fame and adulation he had to put up with, to say nothing of girls attracted to his fame and little else, that would be prudent. She didn't want to jeopardise the relationship, though given her experience, she should take the initiative once she was sure they could take things further. Men tended to be either oblivious, or else uncertain as to whether such feelings were mutual. At least when they weren't thinking with their dicks, anyway.

She was wondering what to call her manor, deciding to emblazon her own stamp on it. That day they visited Whitstable, though after she returned home and spoke to Harry, she chose to call it, with some irony, Dozmary. Dozmary Pool was where the Lady of the Lake (aka Vivian, one of her Standard History counterpart's personalities, and the one who allied herself to Arturia) resided. It was chosen as a rejection of her other half and Standard History self's ideologies, choosing to become more like Vivian. That, and she was practically at the opposite side of Britain to Dozmary Pool, which resided in Cornwall, which added to the irony.

She also was looking into more security measures for Dozmary. The Fidelius, on the face of it, was the ultimate security measure, yet it could cause significant disruption. Totorot had mail correspondence with her literary agent and her publisher, after all, and while there were ways and means around that if using the Fidelius, with PO Boxes being a possibility, it felt like a hammer being used when the problem wasn't a nail. She felt she could do better.

She'd have to do something soon, though. On the day they visited Whitstable, on their return, she felt they had been watched. She couldn't see who it was, given that they were keeping their distance, and she was paying more attention to managing Harry's emotional state, but whoever it was, she was sure, was spying on their domicile for a time. By the time she was free to investigate, the voyeur had left.

The next day, after telling the others, she'd layered on more Bounded Fields. Inspired by the Marauders' Map, she also began work on a special Bounded Field that could identify and locate all within its bounds. That way, she could learn the identity of any would-be intruders.

Three weeks after her awakening in this time, she made something of an interesting decision. Something to help Harry come to terms with his loss, as well as Morgan trying to come to terms with her own losses. Namely, a wake…

Harry didn't think much of the pub. The problem wasn't the décor or the food. It was the landlord and the clientele. He still remembered how viciously he had been beaten by a group of drunks, the landlord egging them on. Even under the influence of Snape's curse only did so much: the few times he visited afterwards as Tobias McGoohan, they looked at him with surly suspicion, as if he was lucky to be allowed into their presence.

Even as Harry Potter, there was surly suspicion. Not as much, but he didn't feel that welcome. This village was probably one of the least welcoming on the Orkney archipelago.

Still, the pub had a section that could be hired for 'private functions', an attempt by the landlord to drum up revenue. Not many availed themselves of it until Morgan paid him. It was really a corner of the main pub area rather than a separate room, but it was big enough for the residents of Dozmary, even the towering Barghest, though Totorot and Melusine were mistaken for children, understandably. Morgan set up a Bounded Field for their privacy, and the Fae with more inhuman features had them concealed with magecraft.

Harry had to admit, he wasn't sure whether a wake was what he needed. Yet he couldn't complain about it. And it wasn't just the lives of those he knew that they were celebrating. Morgan and her Tam Lin were also celebrating the lives of those they knew, especially Morgan, Totorot, and Ector.

They toasted the dead individually, those that meant something to them. Harry went first, though he didn't have an alcoholic drink, just a Coke. Morgan, Ector and Totorot went next. Baobhan Sith and Melusine abstained, but Barghest solemnly listed a few, including, she explained, some of her former lovers that she was forced to devour thanks to the curse afflicting her.

Not long after that, Baobhan Sith asked, while toying with her drink, "Mother…what do we do next? I mean, I'm glad we're shot of the Lostbelt, but…we're Fae. We need a purpose to live, and while I want to be your daughter, I want something a little more."

"Indeed," Barghest said. "Serving you should prove adequate, but what do we do now that we do not live in Fae Britain anymore?"

Morgan said, "I'm considering it. Both Ector and Totorot did well in their chosen fields while we slept, and we have more than enough money to live a comfortable existence for a long time. However, I am not one to sit on my laurels. One path I am considering is academia. On the mundane side, I could study a great number of fields, though given the memories of my Standard History self, I would have an advantage in history and mythology. On the more magical side, the Clock Tower is still a possibility, albeit a risky one. I spoke with Zelretch on some of the advantages and disadvantages of doing so. One of the main disadvantages is that we are Fae, Elementals that aren't confined to the Reverse Side of the World. In other words, there is the possibility that some unscrupulous Magi would attempt to confine us and experiment on us. Most Magi are weak compared to us, true. But some are strong enough to be a threat. Even Zelretch's unofficial protection may not be enough, especially if it comes out that I am associated with the author of The Tales of Tonelico."

"Yeah," Totorot said. "Talking about magecraft in a fictional context shouldn't mess with Mystery, but that didn't stop some arses from talkin' about trackin' me down and makin' an example of me. Zelretch meetin' me and issuin' a memo to the Magi to back the hell off helped a bit, but some Magi are like dogs with a bone. They don't like the insults to their egos, and get paranoid about losin' even a smidgen of Mystery."

"I am not expecting any of you to follow in my footsteps, to follow me unconditionally as if I was my other half. Indeed, all of you are free to leave me if you wish. But be mindful that this modern world is not kind to Fae. The ritual used to bring us here shields us from iron and modern technology to a strong degree, but humans tend towards xenophobia, even within their own species, though we know this is far from unique to humans."

The Fae all nodded in agreement at Morgan's assessment. Baobhan Sith frowned, toying with her drink. "Well…I've been thinking…I've seen so much fashion back in Darlington, a lot of it inspired by the Changelings or the flotsam and jetsam from Standard History. I became enamoured with certain shoes, those for women. The ones with high heels. I know it sounds petty, but…I want to become a fashion designer, specifically for high-heeled shoes."

"That sort of thing is big business," Ector said. "I can't claim to know every damn thing about the shoe industry, but if we're talking the cream of the crop, it'd be cutthroat. You sure you want to go down that path, Baobhan Sith?"

"…I like helping people, true, and I always will…yet this is something I think I've wanted to do for centuries. I just couldn't do so, what with what they did to me." The red-haired Fae shivered.

"I will support you in such an endeavour, Baobhan Sith," Morgan said. "You are my daughter in everything but blood now. And I am glad to see you are thinking in terms of using your creativity. Many Fae lack the ability to be creative and innovative. Back in the Lostbelt, they relied on the flotsam and jetsam of Standard History, seizing on them as fads. Yet there are Fae who are creative. You are one of them. Totorot is both an excellent tailor and an accomplished author, turning our exploits into popular fiction. Ector has become known for his bespoke jewellery. I am not expecting either Barghest or Melusine to follow you into creative endeavours unless they wish to. I have had enough of fate dictating my choices in life, and I would be a hypocrite to dictate anyone else's."

Melusine shrugged. "I've no idea what I will do, and remember, I'm technically not a Fae, just emulating the form of one."

Barghest frowned. "Morgan…how widespread is mercenary work in either the mundane or magical parts of the world are?"

"Mercenary work continues, albeit under a euphemism: Private Military Contractors," Morgan said. "That being said, Clock Tower has something potentially more to your liking. They hire mercenaries or retain special operatives to retrieve wayward members, or to slay inhuman beings like Dead Apostles. Enforcers, from what I understand, tend to have some principles compared to the freelance mercenaries in the mundane world or the Moonlit World. I believe you and Melusine would acquit yourselves well in such a position, if you were willing to risk working within the Magus' Association."

"I'll consider that, Morgan," Barghest said, Melusine nodding thoughtfully in agreement.

Harry toyed with his food pensively. He wasn't sure whether he had any career in mind. Once upon a time, he considered following his father into the DMLE, but Snape and Umbridge's actions had scuppered his original path, and in hindsight, it felt like he might not be able to do enough as an Auror or Hit-Wizard. And with public opinion in Magical Britain turning on him, he didn't even know whether he'd be accepted.

And in truth, he was also tired of having to deal with evil wizards and witches, as well as politicking. Or at least those evil ones who came after him for the crime of being born with the wrong 'blood'. He'd help others if need be, but he wasn't sure whether he wanted to go out and track down people to fight. He didn't feel as academically-inclined as either Morgan or Hermione. And while Morgan had asked him to be her guide, he wanted to do something else for himself.

It felt like he was at a crossroads, and he wasn't sure what path to take.

Morgan seemed to notice his silence, before saying, gently, "It's early days yet, Harry. You'll find your purpose…"

Those words were cold comfort. True, the wake did actually help a little, and the feeling of belonging with this motley group of Fae had increased. Yet he still felt adrift, without purpose.

Those thoughts plagued him as they headed back to Dozmary, only for Morgan to suddenly halt. "The Bounded Fields at Dozmary have tripped," she announced quietly. "I know not whether it is a visitor or a would-be intruder, but remain cautious. They are a Magus, even if a weak one."

At this, the gathered Fae readied themselves, just in case. They followed Morgan, until they came to where Dozmary was…and saw a figure looking up at the manor with a frown. He noticed them approaching, turning to face them.

The likelihood that this was any old enemy of his come for him dissipated upon seeing the man. He looked Oriental, Japanese or Chinese at a guess. He was a scarecrow of a man, a messy shock of dark hair framing thin, incisive but mildly handsome features. His lanky frame was clad in a tracksuit.

When he saw them approach, though, he gave a rather sheepish smile. "Sorry about that," he said in accented English. "I spent a lot of time tracking you down. I was surprised to find all the Bounded Fields, so I tripped one of the non-lethal ones to get your attention."

Morgan scowled. "Are you from Clock Tower?"

"God, no," the man said, grimacing in disgust. "All those elitist Magi…besides, they don't like Magi from Asia. Then again, with my family the way it is, I'm fine with them hating my family, or at least that thing I was forced to call 'Father'. Honestly, I want nothing to do with almost everything in the Moonlit World. Anyway, are you Miss Abigail Spinster? You look a little young to be the writer of these things, but it's the Moonlit World, after all."

This was asked of Morgan, who stared at him in surprise, before she began to giggle, then chuckle. After a few seconds of this, she straightened with a sigh. "Actually, no." She waved a hand, and the spell disguising Baobhan Sith and Totorot fell away. "This is Miss Abigail Spinster, or rather, Totorot," Morgan added. "As for me…for now, call me Vivian Rain…or would you prefer to call me Tonelico?"

Harry wasn't sure why Morgan was saying such things to the man. But this struck home to the man, who looked at them anew. "Elementals…Yousei. What's the term in English? …Fae, Fairies." He grimaced. "Okay, well, sorry for barging in. I just wanted to score an interview with Abigail Spinster. I'm a freelance journalist, you see, but for publications outside the Moonlit World. I don't want to open up that can of worms…" He grimaced at that turn of phrase. "Ugh, shimatta. Anyway, I'm a fan of the series, and was hoping to get an interview, but I'm guessing that's a lost cause. I'll leave, maybe I can find something to write about the archaeological sites on these islands and..."

"No," Morgan said, cutting across his words. "My Fae Eyes have shown me you are, in all likelihood, telling me the truth, Magus, which is just as well, as I would have taken action otherwise, ranging from removing your memories all the way to making your demise the stuff of legends. So, we will discuss what you want to know in a civil manner. That being said, what is your name, Magus?"

"…I'm no Magus. At best, I'm a spell-caster," the man said bitterly, all but spitting the word 'Magus'. As for who I am…my name is Kariya Matou…"

CHAPTER 7 ANNOTATIONS:

Harry's still trying to come to terms with his new life, and Kariya Matou has made an appearance. There's reasons he's been brought in, and I think you can guess at least one of them.

Keep in mind, this part of the story is still a few months before Kariya learns about Sakura's plight. Then again, Sakura is yet to be adopted out to the Matous. Tokiomi and Zouken may have begun their negotiations, but Sakura hasn't been thrown into the rape-worm pit yet.

Now, Kariya in canon hasn't learned any spells prior to getting his worm infestation, despite his potential, at least as far as I know. However, here, Kariya, having read The Tales of Tonelico and having been inspired by it, knows some magecraft spells, though he learned them of his own accord both before and after he left the Matou household. He's still a weak Magus compared to Tokiomi, never mind Zouken, but he considers himself a spell-caster, despising most mainstream Magi. This aspect wasn't as pronounced in the anime as it was in the original novels, but here, Kariya has that resentment and expresses it more openly, but ironically, he's in a much healthier mindset.

A running theme of both the Potterverse and the Nasuverse is how magic-users seem to embody the worst of humanity. But I contend, as I often do in my fics, is that it's less about magic corrupting people, and more that it brings forth their follies and foibles, just like any other kind of power. There are plenty of examples of moral Magi throughout the Nasuverse, just as there are a lot of good wizards and witches throughout the Potterverse. The worst Magi morally are often those obsessed with reaching Akasha, no matter what the cost.

Kariya, despite how nasty his family was, could have been the best of them all. Here, he's going to have a chance. Oh, and did I mention he's going to have a dog Fae waifu? It was going to be a tossup between Sirius and Kariya for being paired with Barghest (God knows she deserves a happier ending than in canon), but after I had to kill Sirius off to keep the pacing up, well, it was a one-horse race…

No numbered annotations this time.