CHAPTER TWELVE
Cannot Stand
Terry had gotten into trouble enough times to recognise when his father was apoplectic.
After rapidly examining the area for lingering threats and checking each of them over for injuries, he called for one of the Aurors who were looking for victims that might've been buried under all the rubble.
"Get me a medic first and then a spare uniform for the Cadet." The Commander nodded at Harry without looking at him. The Commander wasn't looking at any of them. Terry's breath quickened, and he swallowed nervously. He was wrong. He had never seen this kind of anger from his father before.
Harry put the slightly too-big uniform on over his clothes without questioning why, as he too seemed to sense the Commander's fury. Once the medic had examined Anthony and declared he was safe to move, his father finally turned to face them. "You will follow me and not utter a single word before I say so," he sharply ordered. "Is that clear?" They all nodded, but one spoke up anyway.
"Err...Commander Boot?" Harry cringed as though he immediately regretted attracting the Commander's attention, but he continued. "Sir, I should probably get Susan. She's here too."
"Susan?" The Commander scrunched his eyebrows together. "Susan Bones?"
"Yes, sir."
"Go get her then." Harry turned and ran out of the ruined tavern as though a herd of Matagot were nipping at his feet.
Terry couldn't help but turn to his brother. "Did you know Susan was here?" It hadn't escaped his attention that both Michael and Megan seemed unsurprised.
Anthony looked just as confused as he. "No." He winced as though that one word had been painful to say. Terry moved to help him, but the Commander was unsympathetic to his concern.
"If you truly didn't want your brother to get hurt, you wouldn't have let him come here without backup in the first place."
Anthony looked furious. "He didn't let me! I'm more to blame than him!"
Terry wasn't sure how he got to that conclusion, but the Commander spoke before he could correct him. "Don't worry. I'm blaming you for letting him come here as well." The Commander took a deep breath through his nose and reiterated the lesson he had told them a thousand times growing up. "You are each-"
"-responsible for the other," they chorused, but that only seemed to make him even angrier.
"If you remember that, then why-?!" He was cut off when Harry knocked on the broken door with a miraculously uninjured Susan Bones at his side.
"Sir? Should we go?" He looked awkward at interrupting a family row. "Richa- I mean, Sentry Watkins said the press is starting to gather round The Leaky Cauldron entrance."
The Commander sighed. "Lovely. A mass infraction of The Statute of Secrecy. That's all I need." He led the way out of the building and into the ruins of Knockturn Alley. The rest followed a few moments later after the medic was forced to use a Stunning Spell on the struggling Anthony to get him to lie upon a conjured stretcher.
It took a few minutes to get through the rubble and make their way to Diagon Alley. "Who did all of this?" Susan wondered aloud. She seemed to miss Harry's grimace, but Terry did not.
The Leaky Cauldron had been cleared out for everyone beside Tom the Barkeep and the paying lodgers, all of whom gawped down at them from the first-floor landing in their pyjamas. That made Terry uncomfortable enough, but what waited for them outside was even worse.
"Apparate the instant you're clear." The Commander ordered before opening the exit. "Understood?" He didn't wait for a response as he immediately stepped outside, exposing them to a dozen flashing lights. It took Terry a moment to understand it was only a horde of photographers and not deadly spells, but he kept his wand drawn anyway.
Harry stepped after the Commander and Michael swiftly followed. They both worked to clear a path so the medic could levitate Anthony safely through without allowing a single camera to get a clear view of him from the front. Terry, Susan and Megan moved to do the same from the sides while the medic kept Anthony's face safe from view.
Despite this, reporters leaned around the Custodians that were holding them back, shouting questions at them as they fought to get through.
"Commander Boot! Are the reports of Death Eaters attacking Knockturn Alley true?"
"What was the target? A recruitment effort gone wrong, perhaps?"
"Mr Potter! How are you here when there are pictures of you at the Magister's Ball earlier this evening?" Terry blinked at that one. He finally realised why his father had made sure Harry was wearing an Auror's uniform instead of the fancy clothes he had actually fought in. He wanted their presence here to seem official and planned to the press.
Every single one of their questions went unanswered, but it was only when they reached the other side of the street that Terry felt like he could breathe. With Harry taking Susan's hand and Michael taking Megan's, they all took turns apparating back to the London Citadel, leaving the Commander and the medic to Portkey Anthony.
The walk from the Apparition Point to Citadel was an uncomfortable one, made entirely in silence, but that was nothing compared to what awaited them in the building itself.
"Boys!" Terry's eyes widened at the worry in his mother's voice, but in the time it took for him to turn and face her, she had already composed herself. "She's in the holding cells," Joan informed her husband.
The Commander narrowed his eyes. "Double the guard. The cells have already proven themselves vulnerable tonight." Michael twitched and Megan's breath hitched, but he didn't even look back at them as he continued to the infirmary.
Joan shook her head. "I've already confiscated her wand. She can't escape."
It was Terry's turn to jolt. For the first time, he realised Felicia wasn't with them. She had been arrested.
This realisation remained at the forefront of his mind until they were each settled in individual cots in the infirmary. Much to Healer Sherman's chagrin, he, Harry and Michael refused to have the curtains closed around their beds before they knew what Anthony's condition was.
They raised such a fuss that the Commander just told Healer Sherman to examine him so they would settle down. "The wounds were deadly, yes, but the curse it came from seemed to be designed for torture rather than a more immediate death."
"Vincent Lancer." Terry had to glance around to make sure who had spoken, as he had never heard such venom come from his mother before.
"I can't be sure," Sherman shrugged. "But given his reputation, it seems likely. However," he pointed at Anthony's shoulder, where the wound had already healed into a raised scar. "It would have killed him by now, but the majority of the curse has been removed."
"Majority?" Harry asked sharply. "I got it all out!" He reached into his pocket and pulled out the wooden box he had conjured and enchanted earlier. "I put it in here." Terry still didn't fully understand what he had done before, but Sherman seemed to and he raised his eyebrows.
"I wasn't aware they had started teaching this procedure to OWL students." Sherman seemed a little stunned.
"I didn't learn it in school," Harry admitted. "I went through the procedure myself when-" He cut himself off. Terry grimaced as he figured Harry had been about to mention the time he got turned into a human kebab in front of the entire Wizarding World.
"Ah." Sherman nodded. "That explains why your containment box is already breaking down." Terry had to look closer to make out the corroded edges. "The curse is struggling to be freed." Looking entirely unconcerned with the now visibly panicking Harry- who was struggling to find a place to put the deadly box down- Sherman continued. "Nevertheless, you did save his life. It would have been an immediate recovery had a Healer been on the scene, but even a long recovery is better than a slow, agonising death."
"What have I told you about your bedside manner?" Joan scolded. Sherman looked abashed but she had already turned away to place a hand on Harry's shoulder and gave him a grateful look.
The Commander wasn't so easily reassured. "When you say a long recovery…?"
"He'll make a full recovery." Sherman was quick to reassure. "Anthony would have to stay here for at least a week while I keep him under examination, but given his age and good health, he'll likely be back to full fitness by Christmas." Terry hissed lowly. That seemed like such a long time away.
A hand came down on his shoulder. "A full recovery," the Commander repeated to himself, and Terry finally realised how scared his father had been this entire time. However, this brief display of vulnerability didn't last. "Cadets. Miss Bones. Miss Jones. Follow me."
Joan had begun to sit down at Anthony's bedside, but she shot up at this. "Robert! Let them rest first!" It was a good thing she spoke up for them because none of them had the nerve to do so. Not that it did much good.
The Commander didn't even glance back at his wife. "This can't wait."
He left the room and the five of them hurried to follow him through the Citadel's winding corridors. In a matter of minutes, they were all sitting outside one of the interrogation rooms, under the surveillance of a pair of Sentries and the Commander. Meanwhile, Lieutenant Shacklebolt took them inside one by one for questioning.
Terry felt glad he wasn't asked to go first, but when Susan and Megan each emerged looking far more jittery when they went in, he regretted it. Then came his turn.
"Cadet Boot." Kingsley waved him inside, and for some reason, his kindly smile made Terry feel even worse than his father's stormy expression. "Now, I'm going to keep this short and to the point. I know you've been trained on how to conduct interrogations, so I know the usual tricks won't work on you."
"I know complimenting the suspect and being friendly is a technique as well." Terry wanted to kick himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth.
Kingsley didn't seem bothered by his observation. "You aren't a suspect, Terry. You're a colleague." Terry had to pinch his leg before he could point out that establishing a bond was a method he had learnt as well. "Why don't you start at the beginning? Explain this evening's events in chronological order as you remember them."
Terry took a breath before beginning the story as he had been instructed to by Felicia. "We were investigating the Vampire's claims that the nightclub, Nix, had Death Eater ties." He explained the events as though it were an ordinary mission, one that all members had been informed on, bar Harry as he had been so busy with the Triwizard Tournament.
Kingsley nodded patiently, as though all of this was old news to him. However, he pointed out a hole in the story the instant Terry was finished. "But what about the Vampire? Who released her?"
Felicia had ordered them to point the finger at Michael, but Terry couldn't bring himself to do it. "I'm not sure, but when we spotted her in the club, I contacted Harry. We were trained to work as a team and she's a proven killer."
Kingsley looked as though he wanted to continue this line of questioning, but he simply shook his head and rose to his feet. "Thank you. That's all I have to ask."
Feeling lucky, Terry hurried to the door but his stomach dropped when he spotted Harry's cold, blank expression as he passed him in the corridor. He knew Harry only used Occlumency so blatantly when he was struggling to control his anger.
Why wouldn't he be angry? He's in trouble for answering a friend's distress call.
When both Harry and Michael had finished being questioned, the Commander went into the interrogation room to speak with Kingsley alone. Terry glanced at his friends, as this would usually be the point they would come up with some kind of plan, but he was disappointed. Megan was staring at her feet and ignoring Michael's increasingly obvious glances while Susan had all but fallen asleep, her head on Harry's shoulder.
For his part, Harry was staring at the door with barely concealed rage.
Terry quickly turned away before he could attract his attention.
When the door banged open a minute later, Susan jolted awake and fumbled for her wand. "Cadets. With me."
Harry was first to his feet. "Wait here for me," he told Susan. "I'll apparate you back to school when all this is done." Michael looked like he was about to say something but Harry gave him such a harsh look that the words died in his throat.
Terry joined Michael in giving Harry a bit of space when they followed the Commander down the corridor.
The Commander led them directly into his office. It was only when he saw who was waiting for them inside did Terry realise how much trouble they were in.
"Lord Magister." The Cadets followed their Commander in his salute. Terry quietly marvelled at the sight of someone other than his father sitting behind the stately oak desk. The boys watched as the Commander approached Lord Akingbade and bowed to speak into his ear.
Whatever he heard was obviously bad news.
"Not one of you came forward with the truth?" Akingbade boomed. "Not one of you will explain how this disaster occurred?" None of them could meet his eye, but they all remained stubbornly silent. Inwardly, Terry was just relieved that Harry had managed to figure out what had happened and gone along with it. However, neither Akingbade nor his father seemed impressed with this display of loyalty. "Do you have any idea what you have done? The ramifications this could have?"
The Commander explained when they all remained silent. "Your squad- which consists of the Boy-Who-Lived, the child of two Death Eaters and the sons of an Auror Commander- stole classified intelligence, released a prisoner charged with fourteen counts of murder from custody before joining her in attacking a suspected Death Eater stronghold, leading to an vast property damage and an unknown number of casualties."
Lord Akingbade seemed almost calm now that his father had begun pacing the width of the office before them, but his voice was still low and furious. "Did it ever occur to you that we have been using our knowledge of Acosta's holdings to track the transactions she makes? By our estimates, she alone funds sixty per cent of the Knights of Walpurgis. Her dealings involve the trafficking of restricted potion ingredients, magical beings and even humans, both Muggles and sorcerers. Now she would have gone to ground until she can be sure that her operations are free from leaks, the same leaks that warn us when a preventable tragedy is about to occur! You have put an untold number of lives at risk!" He slammed his fist against the desk before rising to his feet.
"You have one chance." The Commander stopped pacing and looked directly at him, beseechingly. "One chance to come forward. This can still be salvaged if you just tell us the truth." Terry was surprised at this preferential treatment and glanced at the Magister to see how he felt about this offer, but Akingbade was staring at Harry with an identical expression.
"We can't fix this unless you tell us everything that happened," Akingbade said quietly as though afraid of being overheard. "Tell us."
Terry glanced at Michael, and he saw Harry do the same. So, I'm not the only one that understands that Michael is being left out in the cold. This whole thing was more or less Michael's fault, but they didn't know that. It was messed up that he was being tossed out to the curb.
All three boys remained silent.
"So be it." Lord Akingbade straightened and stood at his full height, looking down his nose at them. "Corner, Boot-" he looked at each boy in turn but the last one seemed the hardest for him to say- "Potter. Hand me your badges and Ouroboroses. You are hereby discharged from the Auror Corps."
Harry exploded. "What about a trial!" He demanded. "That's our right!"
Akingbade made an aborted motion, as though he wanted to grab Harry and shake some sense into him. "There won't be a trial, you stupid boy!" He matched Harry in volume. "If there is, you will not only be dishonourably discharged but charged with treason for what you have done. You've gone against the law. Your oath! Can you not see?"
The Commander waited for the Magister to calm down before continuing. "Officially, your squad will be on standby until Anthony makes a full recovery. Then, when the Triwizard Tournament is over, you will quietly resign. That way, fewer people will notice than if you were to do it after tonight's fiasco."
Terry was about to say something but he choked as he suddenly forgot how to breathe. It was as though the air pressure and gravity in the room had increased tenfold, threatening to crush his body. He could feel a mounting wave of despair and rage about to crash over him like a wave-
"Harry! Stop!"
The world returned to normal.
Terry doubled over and began hacking up coughs as he struggled for air. He could distantly hear Michael do the same as he turned to see his father- pale and sweaty- keenly watching as the Magister shook Harry by the shoulders. "Control yourself, boy!"
Harry's head was bowed as he stared at the ground. From his bent-over angle, Terry could see the distraught expression his face had contorted into.
It took a minute for Harry to fix his usual look of indifference on his face before he raised his head. "Here." He thrust both his badge and Ouroboros into Akingbade's hands. "Let's get this over with."
Akingbade stared at him for a long moment before speaking. "Take the others back to the infirmary for a check-up. We should be sure of their health before releasing them." His words were to the Commander, but he didn't take his eyes from Harry's.
"Follow me, boys." The Commander led the way out of the office, and his words bounced around in Terry's exhausted brain. Boys, he had said. Not Cadets. Not anymore.
He was so fixated on this that he hardly noticed them pick up Susan and Megan along the way. He only came to when Sherman began examining him. "Burns that were healed in a hurry," the Healer informed his parents. "Nothing painful, but we should treat it soon to prevent scarring."
Terry would have normally made a joke at this- something about how scars were cool and manly- but he wasn't even on thin ice with his parents. No, the ice had broken, and he had fallen into the dark, chilly waters below.
His parents spent the rest of the night sitting in the chairs between his bed and Anthony's. Terry pretended to be asleep, so he didn't have to explain himself alone, wanting to wait for his brother to wake before they tried making up excuses. However, he regretted it when he heard them speak openly.
"What do we do?" Joan was saying. "What can we do? Either Anthony ran after Lancer and the rest followed, or Felicia led them into this after we put them in her care. But how did the Vampire even get involved? Through the daughter?" She seemed to realise she was having a one-sided conversation. "Robert, say something."
"I don't know what else to do." The Commander sounded morose. "I told them I would be there for them. They should know they can rely on me."
Terry opened his eyes ever so slightly, so he saw Joan reach for her husband's hand through his lashes. "Of course, they know."
The Commander's voice cracked as he replied, "Then why didn't they come to me?"
Terry quickly shut his eyes and wished for sleep to come.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Lord Babajide looked down at the badge and Ouroboros in his hands before returning his eyes to Harry's. "Do you remember our last conversation in this room?"
"Yes."
The Magister didn't react to Harry's clipped tone, his own remaining even. "I thought this was behind us. You displayed such growth in August. Why else would I give you a medal?" He shook his head in wonder. "Your performance in the First Task made me see what Nicolas sees in you: a future Magister."
Harry clenched his fists. "If you saw that in me then-"
"I don't recognise you now." Akingbade interrupted. "You couldn't be more different from the boy who led a Hydra away from a Muggle village."
"I didn't exactly have a choice in location tonight." Harry snapped.
Akingbade leapt on that. "Then who did?" When Harry kept his lips sealed, he made a noise of disappointment. "You choose to protect those who have broken the law? You will never stand in my place."
"I'm only fourteen. You have no idea-"
"-of your potential?" Akingbade finished. "I do know what your potential is, and that is exactly why I will put measures in place to prevent you from ever reenlisting in the Corps, much less running for its highest rank."
"You can't do that." Harry shook his head. "Not without explaining why you're doing it, and you've just pointed out why that'll be a bad idea."
"By the time you will be old enough to qualify for Magister, the war will long be over, and we would have won. If we have lost, however-" he shrugged- "then you and I will be too dead to care anymore."
Harry swallowed. "So that's that? I don't turn around and grass on my friends, and suddenly I'm not worthy anymore?"
"A Magister must put the security of all people- both magical and not- above everything else. Even before his friends and family." Akingbade's tone was solemn. "To do this, you need to uphold the laws of our Coalition, laws that you and your team have broken tonight. Besides, we aren't Muggles. We aren't even the same as ordinary witches and wizards. We hold too much power to be held accountable by the same rules, and that same power which you have fought and struggled every bit for qualifies you the same level of precaution."
"I don't understand." Actually, Harry did think he understood, but this was too close to Ekon's "predator and prey" mentality for him to be comfortable with.
"I know it was you that destroyed those buildings." Akingbade raised his hand to stall Harry's protests. "Perhaps you didn't set the fires, or destroy every building, but I know an Earthquake Spell when I see it. Not one of those other Cadets is capable of such destruction and the Acolytes were all fleeing the scene." When Harry said nothing, he emphasised, "We have too much power to not hold each other accountable."
"There was no one in those buildings-"
"Those buildings you brought down weren't just homes, but shops and taverns." Akingbade sighed as he summoned a sheet of parchment off the desk to hover in front of him. "We're not sure, but if the reports are right the property damage must range in the tens of thousands, which will be paid for by the Corps. But that's easier than the casualties."
Harry's voice was quiet, but he had to know. "How many?"
"Sixteen injured so far, mostly due to that Vampire. The real hero was your friend...Bones-" He had to read her name from the report still floating before him- "Multiple civilians have already told us she got them out and performed emergency healing until the Aurors arrived."
Harry only took in that last bit of information distantly. The majority of his focus was on the number of injured civilians. Sixteen injured and for what? One captured Death Eater? "Maybe you're right," he said quietly. "Maybe I shouldn't be an Auror." Because Aurors have to work in teams, he thought but didn't say. When he really thought about it, aside from Quirrell and his run-ins with Kitty Lawless, all the trouble in his life had either come from his friends or from being an Auror.
Or maybe I'm just trying to make myself feel better.
Before he could feel any more pathetic, he asked, "My Ouroboros?"
Lord Akingbade stared at him for a long moment, before pressing the bracelet between two palms. In a matter of moments, the onyx Ouroboros was returned to its former bronze.
Harry immediately snatched it and left the room. He clasped it back around his wrist on his way to the infirmary but bumped into someone on the stairs.
"Harry!" Michael said. "I just got done with my check-up, so I thought I'd come and find-"
Harry cut him off. He grabbed Michael by the lapels and slammed him into the wall. "This is your fault, isn't it?"
"What?" Michael gasped. His hands came up to free himself but he was no match for Harry's enhanced strength.
"Terry can be stupid, but he learnt his lesson after the Chamber of Secrets." Harry mused aloud. "Anthony would have gone after Lancer in a heartbeat, but he never would have put Terry in harm's way. No, it had to have been you. You and Megan have been acting weird since term began and making secret plans when you think no one is listening. Anthony and Terry found out of course, because you're about as unsubtle as a Manticore in heat-"
"Harry, what-?"
"You led them right into a trap like you always do." Harry looked at him in disgust. "Because this is what you always do. You see something you want, don't take the risk into account and everyone else gets hurt trying to bail you out."
"That's not true!"
"The Forbidden Forest, that pub in Blackpool, that flat you rented in Camden-!"
"That was ages ago! I don't make those mistakes anymore. I'm trained!"
"Really?" Harry laughed cruelly. "Tell me I'm wrong then. Tell me tonight wasn't your fault." He scoffed when Michael remained silent. "That's what I thought." He threw Michael away from him and continued to the infirmary as though the other boy didn't even exist. That more than anything seemed to set Michael off.
"You're just as bad!" Michael snapped. "You always go looking for trouble, for danger. I don't care usually, but this time you got my sister involved."
Harry turned back, eyes narrowed. "How do you know that? Susan wouldn't have told you that. She never had the opportunity to." Michael swallowed and Harry took a step towards him. "What aren't you telling me?" When Michael continued to say nothing, Harry went right for the jugular. "I covered for you because I thought I knew the whole truth, but if I'm missing something important, I'll turn around right now and tell them the truth-!"
"It was Bethany." Michael's voice was choked but Harry could just about make out his words. "She must have smelled Susan tailing us."
"What did she do?!"
"Nothing, alright?" Michael snapped. "I was there. She didn't hurt her. She just used that creepy Vampire compulsion thing to make her forget she saw us."
The thought of something happening to Susan tonight- alone and disillusioned in Knockturn Alley while he was singing along with Siren Call at the Halloween Ball- made him feel oddly panicked. Michael seemed to sense this, and he pounced on it.
"You brought her into that danger. She would have been fine-" He didn't get any further than that because Harry reared his fist back and punched him in the face. He didn't hold back much either, so Michael's feet were almost lifted into the air before he hit the ground. Michael stared up at him in shock, hand covering his broken, bloody nose. He had never looked more pathetic but Harry was unmoved.
"I asked her to follow you because I knew she was one of the few people who cared enough about you to save you from yourself." Harry hissed. "I trust her the same way I thought I could trust you. You, who lets anyone who shows him the tiniest bit of affection lead him around by the nose. I thought we had shown you that you deserved more than that, but I guess you never did."
With that, Harry swiftly turned on his heel and continued to the infirmary, leaving Michael behind.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Michael wasn't sure what to feel when he watched Harry walk away from him.
For as long as he had known him, Harry had always been there with understanding and empathy, reliable and always with a solution or remedy. Even when they had fallen out in the past, Michael had known their friendship wasn't over, that one would simply have to reach out to fix things, but that was not what had happened here.
Harry had just cut him out of his life.
Even though Healer Sherman would have done a better job, Michael decided to fix his own nose. He didn't want to go to the infirmary. He didn't want to know if his other friends had severed ties with him too. With a solemn heart, he headed for the doors and found Megan waiting for him there.
"Everyone?"
"They left." Megan yawned from where she was leaning against the wall. "Harry took Susan back to school the second she was cleared, and the Boots took Anthony home. I think keeping him under observation is possible when you live five floors up from where a Healer works." Her sleepy eyes sharpened a little. "Where were you?"
There was something about her tone- innocently curious- that set him off. "I overheard some Aurors talking about Acosta getting killed."
Megan's eyes lit up. "Really? It's over? Was it my mother?"
Michael grimaced as though he had bad news to share. "Yeah, but she got recaptured. The fact that she killed so many innocent people tonight…well, it's not looking good for her."
"No." Megan's joy had swiftly turned to panic. "No, we can't let that happen. You know what they'll do to her. Vampires don't even get trials!"
Michael tried to look sympathetic, but even while acting he had to point out the obvious. "She's killed at least fourteen people before we caught her the first time."
Megan clutched the front of his tunic. "You have to help her. Please, Michael."
"Even after everything she's done?" He tried to reason with her. "I know what it's like to have a mother-"
"Don't," Megan warned. "She's nothing like your mother. Mine actually loves me." Her eyes widened when she saw his expression change and she tried to quickly correct herself. "Wait, I didn't mean it like that-"
"I'm not an Auror anymore." Michael quickly chose to ignore her apology. Like everything else Megan had said, he doubted it was real anyway. "They asked all of us to resign."
Megan looked stumped by that, but then she lurched forward and placed a desperate kiss on his lips. "You're smart, Michael. Smarter than your friends give you credit for. I know you can think of a way for me." She looked up at him through her lashes, eyes wide. "At least one of us should get to know our mother, remember? I can't lose her when I'm so close."
"Right." Michael hugged her close so she couldn't see his face. "Of course."
When Harry had said that affection was the tool used to lead him around by the nose, his mind had gone straight to Megan. Megan, who had just brushed aside his insecurity that he was the dumbest of all his friends, who had so carefully reminded him of their similarity with their mothers and his promise to get hers back.
Michael would wait to tell her that he had been mistaken, that he had misheard what the Aurors had said and both Acosta and Bethany were in the wind. Now that he knew there was no crime that her mother could commit that Megan wouldn't forgive, he understood that they couldn't be more different.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
The afternoon sky was so clear that beams of sunlight rippled underneath the lake's surface, moving with the minute chopping of the water.
This glittering surface, coupled with the unseasonably warm weather, gave the lake an attractive appeal, one Harry and the others had fallen for, conveniently forgetting that the lower layers would be unaffected by the climate of the day.
The water had been brisk going in, then turned chilly in the middle of the lake, before becoming absolutely freezing towards the bottom where the sun was no longer visible. It was so dark at this depth that Harry was only able to see with a pair of conjured goggles he'd enchanted with the Night Vision Charm. The more reliable Supersensory Charm was just too chaotic to the senses while underwater.
Harry had become a strong swimmer over the last couple of years, but he was only able to move so quickly now due to the transfigured webbed skin between his fingers and toes, just as he could only breathe with the Bubble-Head Charm. Cedric and Eliza had been discussing alternatives, like Transfiguration or even Gillyweed, but Harry had dived in before they could come to a decision and done things his own way.
He wasn't the biggest fan of teamwork these days.
In an apparent effort to get them to work on their tracking skills, Moody had enlisted the help of the Merpeople who lived in the lake and tasked the Triumvirate with locating a particular Merman and returning to the surface with the spear that he had "stolen" from Hogwarts.
"Watch out for the Giant Squid." Moody chuckled. "It can be quite territorial." Harry looked at him doubtfully. Aside from a single glimpse of a giant tentacle on his way down to the Chamber of Secrets, he had never seen any indication that the legendary Squid was actually real.
The Tracking Spell was his obvious go-to for an exercise like this, but when Harry tried it, all he'd gotten was clumps of gold dust that floated uselessly in the water. The Point-Me Spell was even more useless as he didn't know the Merman's name or had a feel for his Mana. As such, he was forced to rely on his Mage Sight, which proved to be unreliable for such an exercise.
Harry continued swimming in the direction he sensed the nearest magical signature. He didn't bother staying low amongst the reeds like he'd done the first few tries as Merpeople were able to sense his approach through the water. He swam round the nearest turn- where the lake thinned at the Hogwarts Barrier as it carved through the Forbidden Forest towards Hogsmeade- only to find a clustered group of four Mermaids laughing at his clumsy approach.
"Hello," he said politely, even though they couldn't hear him through the bubble around his head. "Have you seen a Merman carrying a spear by any chance?" As he pantomimed his words, Harry wished he had more luck in Languages Club. His mind had always been resistant to the Translation Charm but Occlumency had made it even more so.
It took a minute for them to get a grip on themselves, but the one closest to him finally tried to help. Her long grey face turned serious as her thin lips moved in clumsy English. "See no weapon, Wizard." Despite her words, she pointed helpfully north, away from Hogsmeade and back towards the school.
Harry gave her a thumbs up. "Thank you." As the Bubble-Head Charm prevented him from hearing anything other than his own breathing, he had to make do with reading lips. So he was unsure if the Mermaid had said "no" instead of "your". He shot back the way he had come, feeling more than a little frustrated.
That was the fourth time he'd followed his sixth sense to the nearest magical signature, hoping to find the Merman in question, but the lake had proved to be a world all on its own. Twice now he had found himself swimming into a group of Merpeople, and at least this second group proved to be friendlier than the first. Those Mermen had jabbed at him with spears and tried to capture him in their nets.
Still, anything was better than those two Kelpies: the first had only wanted to play and left him alone when they neared the Merpeople village, but the second had tried to rip out his throat with its teeth. Hagrid had taught them how to cast the Placement Charm just this term, but Harry had reacted instinctively with a Vortex Charm that sent them both flying in opposite directions instead.
The worst part was wondering if he was working so hard for nothing. There was always a chance that Cedric or Eliza had already retrieved the spear and brought it back to the surface, leaving him searching for nothing. A part of him even wished that was the case as- according to his Ouroboros- he had been underwater for almost an hour now. His arms and legs were burning and found himself taking breaks at shorter and shorter intervals.
He really regretted letting those Kelpies go. He could have used a steed.
However, he suspected that this was exactly what Moody wanted. If he was taking the time to train them underwater, then it was likely that the Second Task would likely occur in such an environment. It wasn't unheard of, though Harry truly hoped not, as the Triwizard Assessors always chose waters with the most dangerous conditions they could find. While he had long since learned to control his fear of open water, he didn't exactly relish having to fight for his life in a turbulent sea.
Harry was dragged out of his apprehensive thoughts by the distinct sensation of a magical signature entering the range of his Mage Sight. What caught his attention was the fact that it was solitary. Even though it could be another Kelpie, he still picked up the pace and ignored the screaming protest of his burning limbs.
That rapid swim felt like an eternity, though it couldn't have been more than a minute. When he was close enough for his enchanted goggles to see his quarry through the gloom, Harry felt a jolt of excitement in his chest. He wasn't the only one. One moment, the Merman looked utterly bored as he doodled on the lake floor with the end of the spear. The next, an excited expression sprang onto his wide, grey face when his eyes met Harry's. Then he took off swimming in the other direction.
Harry cursed and he did his best to keep up, but even going at his full speed with his webbed appendages, he was no match for a native of this environment. He tried to cheat by swimming only in his quarry's slipstream, but while that lessened the water's drag considerably, it did little to close the wide gap between them. In fact-
Why hasn't he disappeared yet? Harry wondered. He's fast enough to get away if he wants to.
It wasn't hard to put the pieces together. The odds of running into one Kelpie were slim enough (they tended to sleep during the day and venture onto land at night in search of prey they could drag underwater) but two in one hour? It was only now that he understood that he was meant to take one as a steed and chase down the Merman with it. In fact, he guessed there were three Kelpies conveniently frolicking in the lake today, one for each of the Triumvirate.
Determined not to fail despite this, Harry pointed his wand behind him and cast, "Aqua Erecto!" which proved to be an immediate mistake. He had thought pushing himself forward with a jet of water while underwater would be similar to propelling himself upward with a bullet of air while on the surface. However, there usually aren't Dark Beasts lurking in the tall grass on the surface, but the tall reeds on the lake floor seemed to be teeming with them.
Harry had been so focused on keeping the Merman in his line of sight that he hadn't even considered where he could be going. Perhaps this was what Moody had asked him to do or perhaps he was simply mischievous, but the Merman had led Harry directly into a Grindylow nest. They had been waiting for him to be surrounded on all sides before attacking, but his condensed jet of water had blown back the reeds, revealing them, and they screeched and attacked before he could flee.
Trying not to think the worst of the Merman, he glanced at him to see if he needed help with the Grindylows, only to find him at a safe distance away from the reeds, laughing uproariously at Harry's misfortune. Enraged, but deciding to deal with him in a minute, Harry returned his attention to the Grindylows, but he was already too late.
Underestimating their speed, he was caught off guard when pairs of them worked together to hold each of his limbs still while two more worked to break through his Bubble-Head Charm and another was already tightening the long fingers of both hands around his neck.
Reacting instinctively, Harry thrashed and tried to wriggle free from their shockingly strong grips, but this seemed to only enrage them further. The ones holding his limbs began scratching at them, and if he hadn't been wearing a full wetsuit, strips of skin and flesh would already be floating in the water. One of the two working at the bubble seemed less concerned with piercing it and more so with gouging out his eyes. The worst was the one at his neck, as his grip had tightened to such a degree that Harry could no longer breathe.
After everything that I've survived, everything that I've killed, this is what gets me? Grindylows? Really?
With anger born from pride, Harry removed his focus from his physical condition and placed it entirely on his will. He knew what he wanted to happen, just as he knew how capable he was of making it happen. He didn't need a wand for this. All he needed was desire and the will to make it come true.
Relashio!
Born from the well of power deep within him, a pulse of energy surged through his body, making him impossible to hold onto and the Grindylows were blasted away from him. The ones that remained conscious fled into the gloom while the rest floated in the water. They could be dead or unconscious, but he didn't care.
Slowly, Harry turned in the water to face the Merman. He was no longer laughing.
Ignoring the wand that had fallen from his grip in his struggle, Harry opened his hand expectantly. Accio! The spear obediently tore itself from his quarry's grip and flew through the water until it slapped into its rightful place. He couldn't hear anything with his head being in a bubble, but he could clearly see the Merman open his mouth in a scream as his wrist was broken from the wandless summoning.
It was Harry's turn to show his amusement and he made sure to smile when the Merman's pained eyes met his own.
Harry tensed when the Merman let out a howl of anguish and charged right at him, swimming faster than he would have thought possible. Still, he had enough time to raise the spear, ready to skewer his attacker if he had to, but it proved unnecessary.
A sudden vortex appeared between them, one with enough strength to send them spinning, around and around, until it abruptly stopped and they were sent flying in opposite directions. Harry felt like his brain was bouncing around in his skull and the world around him was so dark that he found it impossible to tell up from down as he tumbled through the water. He was almost afraid he would be sent directly into another Beast's den while he was too dizzy to defend himself properly, but the conjurers of the vortex revealed themselves, proving this unnecessary.
Cedric and Eliza were both riding the backs of majestic Kelpies, their heads free from bubbles but their necks bearing their new gills proudly. Eliza was frowning as she steadied him, and Harry could see Cedric's lips moving. Still too dizzy to try reading lips again, Harry pointed to his bubble, hoping they would understand that he couldn't hear a word.
Cedric visibly sighed and pointed upwards and the other two both nodded. After he took off, Harry used his Ouroboros to summon his wand and made to follow, but Eliza tugged on his arm before gesturing to the space on the saddle behind her. Harry was too stubborn to accept help these days, but he was impossibly tired from swimming laps around the lake, so he reluctantly straddled the Kelpie behind her and let her take him back to the surface.
It took less than a minute for the Kelpie to reach the surface, but instead of swimming to the shore as he had expected, the Beast instead galloped atop the water as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Too tired to marvel at this as he usually would, Harry took the opportunity to do away with the Bubble-Head Charm, his webbed appendages and his wetsuit, drying himself and switching it out with his usual duelling gear so that he looked perfectly normal by the time the Kelpie reached the shore where Cedric and Moody were already waiting.
"Here." Harry tossed the spear to Moody. "Next time you need something fetched, send an Automaton."
Moody caught the spear and examined it, as though he expected Harry was tricking him. "Cedric tells me you injured the Merman."
Harry shot Cedric a glare, but he was already giving him a harsh look in return. "You didn't have to break his arm."
"I did when he led me into a trap." Harry countered. "And I only broke his wrist. Don't exaggerate."
Moody pinched the bridge of his nose. "You do realise a Magister needs good diplomatic ties with all magical communities to maintain The Statute of Secrecy? You're killing your career before it even starts, Potter."
Don't worry, it's already dead and buried, Harry thought darkly. "Okay, I'll just let him kill me next time. Great lesson. Now is there anything else or can I go?"
Both of Moody's eyes fixed on Harry's unwaveringly and he looked like he was on the verge of exploding. Before he could utter a word, Eliza stepped between them. "I'll go back down and offer to heal him. You know, help smooth things over."
Moody deflated as the sudden anger left him just as swiftly. "Would you? Thank-" He stopped halfway through his thanks and fixed his entire attention on the lake's surface.
Harry turned to see what had grabbed his focus but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. However, after a moment, he realised that the water had become increasingly choppy as something large rapidly rose to the surface of the lake. Drawing his wand, Harry expected to see a Merman Armada come to attack the surface in retaliation for his disrespect to one of their own, but what rose from the deep was somehow even worse.
A single, colossal tentacle burst out of the water before slapping down on the grass with a meaty THWACK! It was swiftly followed by a second, third and fourth which it used to pull itself out of the lake entirely, rolling onto the grass before coming to a stop. It then used its two arms to press against the ground so it could rise to its full height and flared all eight of its tentacles dangerously in the air.
By this point, Harry, Cedric and Eliza had all leapt away from the water. They huddled together in a tight formation as they pointed their wands up at the colossal Beast, but even from that distance it still blotted out the sun. Its body was bright red and at least eighty feet tall, but its long conical head made it seem even taller. The most off-putting thing about it was the two giant, glassy eyes that stared down at them dispassionately.
Then the Giant Squid tipped its head backwards until its awful, beaklike mouth was visible, which it proceeded to open before inhaling. The Beast's elastic body seemed to expand with this intake of air, ballooning outward, and Harry braced himself for some kind of ink attack or whatever it was that Giant Squids did, but what happened next was far worse.
It screamed.
Harry repressed the urge to cover his ears. He needed to keep his wand trained on the Giant Squid, but it seemed more concerned with letting itself be heard than attacking. Its terrible screeches echoed out over the grounds, and whichever students hadn't fled before were doing so now. However, before they could even make it halfway back to the castle, the Giant Squid stopped and lowered its head to stare down at them once more.
Harry and Cedric remained attack-ready, but Eliza had already lowered her wand and stepped forward. Then, much to his confusion, she opened her own mouth and let out a similar screeching noise as the Squid, only much shorter. As though this was a completely normal interaction, the Squid clicked its beak once before dropping back to the ground and rolling back into the water.
Once it had swum out of sight, Harry finally spoke. "What the hell was that?!"
"What?" Eliza asked innocently. "You've never studied Mermish?"
That's when it clicked. He had teased them about not learning Parseltongue when the Occamy had arrived with its clue about the First Task, and now she was getting back at him. "Ignoring the fact that the Giant Squid not only exists but can speak Mermish-"
"Shockingly fluent Mermish for a creature that doesn't have vocal cords." Eliza corrected.
Harry ignored that too. "What did it say?"
Eliza turned from him to Cedric- who looked equally curious- before glancing at Moody, who appeared utterly unsurprised by what had just occurred. Then she repeated the Giant Squid's message in English:
"Enter the darkness of a world without air,
Claim a god's weapon in the King's hidden lair.
Control the stealthy and those who play tricks,
they seek to shatter what cannot be fixed."
Find your greatest tool at the highest peak,
and prevent calamity on which you wreak."
There was a long pause. "So," Cedric finally said. "Who's the king and where's his lair?"
Harry frowned, more concerned with the line concerning his greatest tool. Was a part of the task meant to be conducted wandlessly? If so, he was absolutely not comfortable with that. Moody didn't seem to share his concerns.
"Well, now that's been so helpfully translated," Moody spared Eliza a wry look. "You're all dismissed. We've got over three weeks before the Second Task, so we can afford to take tomorrow off and think the clue over. We'll meet here again, same time on Monday."
Harry took off without a word, but Eliza hurried to catch up to him on the march back up to the castle. "Hey!" She called before increasing her pace to match his when he failed to respond. "You were a bit harsh back there."
"Moody's a big boy. He can handle a bit of attitude."
"I was talking about the Merman, but yeah, you were rude to Captain Moody too. And Cedric," she added with a glance back to the shore where the two in question were talking in hushed tones, their concern palpable.
Harry sighed, feeling like a prat. "Yeah, sorry. I just-"
"Look I get it," Eliza said, commiserating. "I've had rough missions in the past too, but no one died, right? And your friend, Anthony, he's going to make a full recovery, isn't he?"
Harry kept his gaze determinedly fixed on the castle. "Yes."
"See? That's great news!" She clapped him on the shoulder. "It'll all blow over before you even realise it and things will go back to normal. You'll see."
Harry bit his tongue. The press had already revealed that their squad had engaged three Acolytes in the battle that had levelled Knockturn Alley, but it had been played off like a surprise attack on the Death Eaters' part rather than the other way around. Harry and his team were now seen as the poor little victims of the entire affair rather than the instigators, which was done deliberately so that when they resigned in January, no one would look too deeply as to why.
The only person to come out looking better than she did going in was Susan. Officially, she and Megan had been on their way to The White Wyvern to catch a gig when the first of the fires broke out. While Megan went to go get help, Susan stepped up and helped many of the inhabitants escape the fires and healed all those she could. This story was backed up by many of the survivors who had either been helped by her or had seen her in action.
Harry couldn't fault Susan for her uptick in popularity, as she was only being celebrated for what she had done, but he was too concerned with where the events of Halloween had left him.
For her part, Eliza was more concerned with something else that had happened that night. As they stepped inside the Entrance Hall, she carefully started with, "Listen, about Halloween-" before he interrupted her.
"I can't discuss it," Harry said bluntly. "Commander's orders."
"Yeah, I figured, but that's not what I meant." Eliza glanced at him nervously. "I think we should talk about what happened on that balcony."
Harry couldn't imagine a topic he wanted to discuss less. "We should talk about that, but not now. I'm meant to be home for the weekend." He all but charged up the Grand Staircase, glad that the Slytherin common room was in the other direction.
However, he wasn't fast enough to miss the flash of apprehension that crossed her face before he did so.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Harry wasn't lying when he said he was heading home for the weekend, but he had exaggerated when he implied that he was expected there.
He had been returning to Brightstone House with increased frequency this term, first due to his unusual schedule caused by the Triwizard and then his breakup with Lisa, but now it was because he was less tethered to Hogwarts than ever before. Aside from whatever friends he had left there, he has no true reason to return to school anymore. After all, what was the point in working hard for grades if it didn't lead to a place he wanted to go?
Harry stepped out of the fireplace and into the living room where Maia lying horizontally on the sofa, carelessly flicking her wand at the Odeon and flashing between channels.
"Hey," he greeted. "What are you up to?"
Maia didn't take her eyes off the crisp images and spoke over that annoying Drooble's Best Blowing Gum jingle. "Nothing," she sighed. "I'm just bored."
"Do you want to go do something?" Even though he had come here for training prep, he would take the rest of the day off if she wanted him to.
"No, that's alright." Maia groaned and stretched, her shoulders making a few popping noises as she did so. "I can't be bothered to move."
Harry nodded slowly. "Okay. I'll be in my room in case you change your mind." Maia nodded and he moved for the stairs, taking them two at a time towards the uppermost floor.
Maia had been worried when he'd come home after the battle. She had been able to tell something terrible had happened when she saw his face. She relaxed when he informed her that he and his friends had got away without permanent injury and had already been checked by a Healer, but her mood plummeted when she found out what Felicia had done. Harry had only told her of the facts he was sure of, but like him, she was able to put the pieces together.
He wasn't sure how serious the two of them were, but it must have been terrible for her either way. Especially as Felicia was still in the holding cells and she couldn't confront her.
Harry entered his room and dropped his bag on his bed and opened all the windows with a wave of his wand. It was somehow colder in the Isle of Wight than it was up in Scotland today, much more in tune with a November afternoon, but it was a bad idea to brew potions in an unventilated room.
Just as he was conjuring a sturdy workbench to brew upon, Harry's eyes fell upon one of the few framed photographs he kept up on his wall: he, Anthony, Terry and Michael beaming in their Cadet uniforms along with a proud Captain Solace on the day they had sworn their oaths. It was hard to believe that had only been ten months ago.
Harry jabbed his wand at it, unsticking it from the wall before tossing it into the bottom drawer of his dresser.
Working carefully through the Poisons and Antidotes section of his grimoire, Harry carefully brewed an antidote to the Paralysis Potion before making the poison itself. Even if he was no longer an Auror, precautionary conduct like that had been ingrained in him during his training and he wasn't going to ignore it because he no longer had a badge.
By the time he finished brewing the poison, the sun had set and the sky outside had turned into the deepest shade of blue. Carefully putting three vials of each mixture in his utility belt and memorising which pouch had which (wouldn't that be a terrible mix-up), he thoroughly washed and dried his cauldron and equipment before turning to the page that had the recipe for Erumpent Potion.
"You should test that first." Harry turned to see Nicolas lingering in the doorway, unsure if he was allowed inside. He had a bag in hand as though he'd just been shopping.
"Are you volunteering?" Harry asked lightly and his master smiled and stepped inside the room, correctly taking his tone as an invitation.
"Me? No, No." Nicolas smiled as he conjured a seat for himself at the workbench, placing the bag on the ground before sitting down. "That's what conjured animals are for."
Harry grimaced. "That seems needlessly cruel."
"You can transfigure it out of something innocuous if it makes you feel better." Nicolas shrugged. "Like a toilet brush, perhaps? What?" He asked when Harry appeared nonplussed by that suggestion. "You can't feel empathy for a toilet brush."
"Go on then." Harry dared, which he immediately regretted when he remembered who he was talking to. Nicolas returned not even a minute later with a toilet brush he swiftly transfigured into a confused chimpanzee. "Well, that was a waste of time," Harry sighed when a drop of poison paralysed the chimp before the antidote returned its extremities to it.
"It's never a waste of time to be careful." Nicolas returned the chimp to a toilet brush and banished it back to its place of origin. "Speaking of being careful, are sure you should be following my instructions and not the official textbook?"
Harry put a protective hand over his grimoire. "I can't be bothered with the school library and Terry and I aren't exactly on speaking terms right now. Besides, these pages wouldn't have revealed themselves to me if you didn't think I was ready to learn the shortcuts you made in the recipe."
"Hard-won shortcuts that all Potion Masters worth their accolades discover eventually." Nicolas frowned. "I'm not sure about you using them so casually."
"If it makes you feel any better, I'm going to use these for the Second Task or whatever duel I end up in next." Harry smiled cheekily. "You Potion Guild nerds can keep your secrets for yourselves. Anyway," he gestured to the clean and empty cauldron. "Want to help?"
"Yes, there's nothing I love more than helping people who insult me," Nicolas tutted. "But first, I've got you something." He reached for the bag before handing it to Harry.
Afraid that this was a joke, Harry cautiously reached into the bag and gasped when he pulled out the same jacket he'd seen in Bellamy's shop. "You didn't," he whispered as he traced his thumb over the smooth, minute scales that made up the Hebridean Black Dragonhide.
"I did." Nicolas sounded terribly pleased with himself. "I thought you- What's wrong?"
Harry kept his head low, not wanting to look up until the pinpricks behind his eyes faded. "I was supposed to get this for winning the Triwizard, not for getting fired."
Nicolas' concern shifted to empathy. "I understand why you stood by your friends, Harry."
"Really? Because I don't." He couldn't even explain it to himself, only that absolving himself of blame and pointing the finger at his teammates was too dishonourable for him to even consider. When did things like that even begin to matter to him? He could still remember a time he would have gladly thrown anyone under The Knight Bus to save his own neck.
"You have found the flaw in fidelity," Nicolas said with the gravity of a man who had experienced such conundrums of morality himself. "Is it ethically sound to stay loyal to those who have shown loyalty to you, even though they have done something wrong?"
They sat there together for a while, long enough for the blue of the evening sky to deepen to black and the first stars to appear overhead. "I'm sorry," Harry said finally. "Whatever promise you saw in me was squandered. I'll never be Magister."
Nicolas looked at him as though he were stupid. "I never saw any promise in you when we met." He denied. "You weren't even twelve. Immortality is boring and I thought you were an interesting distraction. That's all there was to it."
Harry had suspected as much, but it still hurt to hear. "Ouch."
Rarely one to apologise, especially for telling the truth, Nicolas moved on. "What matters most to you? Was it truly becoming the Head of the Confederation?"
Harry glanced wearily at the closed door. "My parents," he said lowly, not wanting his godparents to overhear. "And fulfilling the prophecy."
"Yes." Nicolas nodded, not proudly but expectantly, as though he knew those remained Harry's ultimate goals. "You can accomplish both without a crown or a red cloak, and I will be there to aid you along the way. Now," he waved to the jacket Harry was still holding, "put it on."
Harry sighed but he did so anyway. He moved over to the mirror, which was quick to point out the only flaw in this flawless jacket. "Are you playing with your father's clothes, dearie?"
"I can't blame you for thinking that." Harry turned back to Nicolas and waved the too-long sleeves in his face. "It's too big!"
"Don't worry," Nicolas straightened the lapels and brushed non-existent dust off his shoulders. "You'll grow into it. You still have time."
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
With everything that had been going on, Harry ended up forgetting about the art competition until Aurora reminded him.
This would normally have sent him into a tailspin, as the deadline was only two weeks away and he had scrapped his original idea. To make matters worse, most other members of the Art Club had already completed their submissions and chose to skip meetings until the deadline passed and Professor Sinistra returned to her usual lessons. This meant that the four people who showed up to every meeting were the only ones struggling with making their final piece, and Harry hadn't even started his.
But he didn't go into a tailspin. While he had been proud of his first idea- to paint the links that connected him to others, both the good and the bad- it hadn't felt right to continue it after what had just happened. It had been the events of Halloween, or rather its fallout, that gave him the idea for his submission.
His relationships with others weren't wholly good or bad. Sometimes, it was the people he loved that hurt him and his enemies had played a part in making him stronger and wiser. So, instead of trying to fit his complex feelings towards all of them on one canvas, Harry decided to go back to the beginning and paint the source.
He painted the Oracle of Delphi, the prophet that had given Voldemort the prophecy fourteen years ago.
Harry had only seen her once in Nicolas' Pensieve, but it wasn't an image he could forget. Still, he painted the memory the way it made him feel, not as he remembered it. He first layered the entire canvas with pale gold before adding increasingly darker shades further from the centre. When he reached the final layer at the edges of the canvas, he was painting with browns so dark they were almost black.
Then, atop the pale gold centre, he painted the figure of a woman facing away from him, her arms open as though she were addressing a crowd or drawing back curtains. She was in the same dark brown as the edges, as though she were in shadow. Together, it looked like she was blocking out the bright sun from the viewer, leaving them submerged in darkness. But sunlight was still visible, leaving hope within sight.
"Have you chosen a pseudonym?" Aurora asked when he asked her to come over to examine his work. He hadn't realised it until now, but everyone else had already left. He grimaced, feeling bad for keeping her waiting.
"Hugo Argos?" Harry suggested. "After my bike and my owl." Before Halloween, he had been set to choose Marvin Marauder or something equally silly for his friends would get a kick out of. Now, he just wanted something that worked.
"A bit obvious for anyone who knows you-" Aurora stopped when she finally saw his oil painting. "Well, it's certainly a departure from your first idea," she finally said. "It's a lot more simple. Especially when compared to other submissions."
Harry didn't blame her for thinking so. He had avoided detailing the woman's features, leaving as her little more than smudged shapes. The closest he came to providing features was the vague shape of her ears and her hair, which was done in a bun at the nape of her neck. That was so he could show how bright the sun was as it shone through a few loose strands of hair and turned the edges of her ears and splayed fingers pinkish-red.
"I know, but I wouldn't want to submit anything else," he said honestly. It had only taken him two meetings to go from inception to completion, which was far shorter than most of his other works, but it was by far the best thing he had ever painted. "I can live with this," he said. "The good and the bad."