Tribe of mystics: Reworked

by Lord of mystics

This is a rewritten version of the earlier story of the same name. Some incidents in the story have been rewritten in detail so that any unanswered questions can be addressed.

10. Chapter 10

The Pirates

The journey that Harry Potter embarked on, started on a very exciting note. The send-off was already a great one with the Marichika sailing past vessels twice its size without any of them noticing it. As soon as they reached the open sea, the ship picked up speed and they had a good time for about two hours. Harry, who had never been at sea with the soul exception of rowing out to the shack on the rock with the Dursleys on the night of his eleventh birthday, was enjoying the journey. He sat at the bow of the ship with Harsh Vardhan, watching it cut through the waves and fish passing by as porpoises played in the bow-wave.

"Mr. Harsh, I had no idea that the open ocean or the world for that matter was so enormous. It makes me think that Voldemort is an idiot to think that he can rule the world if he controls Wizarding Britain as if Wizarding Britain was all there is to it. Wizarding Britain isn't the centre of the world either politically or by reason of its civilization. The influences of the Roman, the Egyptian civilizations can be easily seen on it. There is so much more to the world that is unexplored, uncharted and yet Voldemort fights for control over a country which is not as big as the others."

"Megalomaniacs like Voldemort can't be reasoned with. Once they get a thought in their head, it is very hard to deter them from it. And while I don't have any issues with his delusions of grandeur but in fulfilment of his dreams, he has caused too much death and destruction which is simply not acceptable."

Harry started, "Can you…"

Having spotted something that alarmed him, Harsh cut in urgently, "Mr. Potter, run to the Chamber and find Dishant. Tell him to ring the danger bell. Run."

Harry dashed off to the helm of the ship as he cast a look around and found the problem. A ship that appeared to be a muggle cruise liner was approaching their ship at flank speed, its wake curving behind it indicating a recent, violent course change.

In the short time it took Harry to reach the helm, the ship's bell was already clanging at full volume. The Captain was barking orders to the men aboard who went to their battle stations.

"Mr. Dishant, Mr. Harsh Vardhan is looking for you.", Harry said urgently.

The captain turned to his second-in-command and barked orders at him to rush into the ward chamber to get the ship airborne.

As Harry ran with the captain to Harsh, he saw mystics taking up station against the rails of the ship, while a group of them climbed the rigging to the crow's nest. Harsh barked orders to his men, telling them to take positions.

As Dishant reached him with Harry in tow, Harsh instructed the captain, "Go and get the cannons raised, steer the ship to portside and ready the ship to be airborne."

The captain left immediately and a few moments later there were whirring and scraping sounds as the starboard gun-ports opened and the cannons rolled out.

Harry was perplexed with all these preparations. He hesitatingly asked Harsh, "Mr. Harsh, why are we readying for battle? Isn't that an ordinary muggle cruise liner which is passing through this area? Why are we bothered with its appearance?"

Harsh merely grunted, "That is not a muggle ship, Mr. Potter. They are pirates and they are always trying to harass us and all the magical vessels which pass through these seas. We have exterminated many of them and would have finished them off for good but they too can use magic."

"But it looks like any other muggle cruiser. Are you sure they are pirates? Did they not go extinct like years ago as we charted all the waters? I mean that is what I have read in muggle primary."

Harsh looked at him with incredulity and asked him, "Mr. Potter, this ship that you are travelling on is a unique one in the sense that none except us and a few even know about its existence. Marichika is enchanted to stay off the radar and other muggle technology which can detect its presence. They should not see this ship much less approach it. Besides, we had sunk that ship 5 years ago in another naval battle with these pirates, Mr. Potter. Yet here they are and here is the ship that we had sunk. Perhaps we didn't do a thorough job last time. And charting waters do not work for them who have the talent to go around unobserved."

"Who are these pirates?", asked Harry intrigued, "I would have thought that nothing can escape the mystics."

Harsh smiled warily, "Remind me of this question later, Mr. Potter. For your curiosity, these pirates are scum of the sea who were blessed with the generous gifts of mother magic and they chose to use those gifts for their nefarious purposes. It is not true that nothing can escape us for there are so many things which can escape our notice as we are not omniscient."

Suddenly, the captain walked up to him, "Master, we are ready to be air borne. In 5 minutes, we can escape this menace by air."

"No Dishant, we are not escaping just like that. Let's give them a taste of our wrath. They have been punished so many times and they keep coming for more. Sinking that wretched vessel does no good but for the fun of it, let's send it to the bottom of the sea again", he said winking at Harry who wanted to laugh at his humour but could not bring himself to do so, in this setting.

In the last two hours that he had been aboard the ship, he had seen such a level of reverence for the man from his sub-ordinates that he had understood that the mystic was not an ordinary man. It was this observation which made him decide to tread cautiously around the older man, lest he offend him.

As the cruise ship came into range, the first volley of spells left the Marichika and several of the pirates went down. The next second, the cannons began their thunder in sequence as they came to bear. Although there was a terrific noise and flash as each cannon fired, there was no smoke. They were firing spells, the likes of which Harry had never seen before. With unerring accuracy, each spell hit the pirate ship alternating between the water-line and the gun-deck, tearing huge holes in the hall. The final shot of the volley blew the rudder off. By comparison, the answering fire from the pirate vessel was sporadic and poorly aimed likely due to the first shot from the Marichika hitting the pirate vessel bow-on and wrecking most of the gun-deck.

With the pirate ship unable to navigate and already showing a visible list to starboard, it seemed that the battle was already over but apparently that was not so because the mystics remained alert.

Harry gripped the railing, white knuckled as he watched the pirate ship lose way and founder, fires blazing away, rigging smashed and remains of the crew evident on the deck as the list increased. Then he spotted them. Dozens of boats making their way toward him at unbelievable speed. It was as if they apparated from their stricken vessel because they weren't there a second ago. As he watched, one of the men threw a grappling hook that took purchase on the rail of the ship. As soon as the hook took hold, the men began scrambling up the swinging rope.

Harsh barked out orders and the crew made haste to obey him. Harry's orders were simple: make sure that nobody gets on deck alive.

Harry focussed on the rope nearest to him, "Diffindo!", but the rope was not effected. Shocking because that spell should have severed the rope immediately. Thinking fast, he came up with a spell that he had seen some seventh years using and intoned, "Relashio!", but he didn't get the wand movement quite right and the rope remained stubbornly tied to the grappling hook.

Then a hand grasp the rail followed by the torso of the man which galvanized Harry into action. Harry stunned the man who fell back into the water knocking the man behind him off the rope as well. The two of them made one splash as they fell into the sea. Desperate, he thrust the wand forward and put his will into the spell and cast "Relashio!" again. To his joy, the rope untied itself from the grappling hook and fell into the water. Relieved, he turned to the deck and found that two men had boarded the ship and were advancing on him. He immediately fired a reductor hex at the first man followed by a disarming hex at the second man who had just climbed the rails. The first man easily side stepped the reductor but he did not see a pink spell approaching which nicked his wand hand. In pain, the man fell on the deck and one of the mystics banished him back into the sea. The second man lost his wand to the disarming hex and was in the process of pulling another wand from inside his robes when Harry petrified him but did not have the heart to banish him. Rather he turned to the other grappling hooks and started dislodging them with levitation charms, dropping hooks, ropes and dangling men into the sea. A few who just managed to gain the deck engaged him in a duel and for 5 minutes Harry cast as many spells as he could, disarming one, stunning another, petrifying the next, banishing another to the mystics who were standing on the side with their wands out and looking at him with a scrutinising gaze. He shielded when he could, dodged when he could not and avoided being hit for about 5 minutes when a bone breaker grazed him in the ribs making him wince however he did not sustain any injury. Soon there were no more ropes and all that he had duelled were subdued by the other mystics.

A few of the pirates who had already climbed on to the deck and did not engage Harry Potter directly were rallying on the deck to attack in formation, when it happened. The sky thundered for a moment and the final flash of lightning revealed a single man who was facing the pirates onboard the ship. The man was dressed in the usual mystic garb but in place of his orbs, Harry thought he could see fire in those eyes. The man's face was obscured by a leather mask which was terrible to look upon. It was hard to describe for Harry but he was in awe. The man's magical aura was pitch black and shrouded around him like a cloak obscuring his features from everything. His body was glowing like he was on fire and his hair was falling in front of his face. He had his wand in his right hand which he moved like a baton and the next few seconds were a blur. As the intruders started to attack, the man rushed them, using his wand as an extension of his arm. His motions were fluid and quick. In those moments, Harry could see pink, red, blue, orange and many coloured spells and when he was done, none of the foes were standing and most of them were not moving either. Some had their intestines hanging out of their stomach while some looked like they had been burnt. A few were bent at such crude angles that Harry did not have to guess that they had broken bones. The figure turned to Harry and he shivered, however, the figure did not approach him but rather waved a hand in front of his face. Without the mask gone, Harry could see the face of Harsh Vardhan but without the usual jovial expression.

Harry had trouble connecting this ruthless man with the cheerful and helpful trainee healer who had helped him so much in the last few days. They seemed to be so different like opposite sides of a coin. One was kind, jovial and friendly like the favourite uncle while the other was a ruthless, merciless killer. One spoke of life and things which intrigued him like war, family and glory while the other had just shown him the ugly side of war. This scary side was what Harry had imagined but wished never to meet and yet here he was. This explained why the mystics revered the man. Harsh was extremely powerful and capable with a wand. This was a person that even Voldemort would not engage. After all he had never sought to engage Dumbledore in a direct confrontation in the first war.

Harsh turned to the captain, "Dishant, gather a few of our men and transfigure these pirates into fish and leave them in the sea. Their worthless lives will be useful to feed the hungry animals, at least."

Harry was shocked, "but you cannot do this. You cannot transfigure them into fish and leave them to die. That is not right."

He turned to Harry, "I hope this is the first and last time that you are trying to tell what to do and what not to do, Mr. Potter. As I have told you, we are assassins and we kill those who offend Mother Magic or who atrocities are so much that there is no other way to stop them than to kill them. And to tell you, most of these prisoners are people who have been declared dead years ago and no magical government around the world even knows if they are alive. Can you imagine the pandemonium it will cause, if these presumed dead wizards were to be handed over to law enforcement agencies? Then there is the possibility of compromising our security and secrecy because no records of us are found anywhere in the world except folklore and legends. Even a few who have heard of us do not believe in our existence. We can do nothing except to feed them to bigger fishes in the ocean. For a moment, let's assume that we take them to law enforcement, how will we explain this heavily armed ship which has no records and no logs of it are found anywhere?"

Harry could understand what Harsh was telling him. The first time he met the mystic, he was told that they were basically assassins. Moody told him that the mystic had no hesitation about killing anyone but Harry could not simply kill anyone. He had not even had the heart to banish a petrified pirate into the sea when he knew that the pirate would be rescued by others. Coming up with no reply to the mystic's questions, he only nodded.

Within 10 minutes, the pirates were fish in the sea and the Marichika was in the air, coursing through the skies over Europe at incredible speed. Harry Potter was again standing on the bow, enjoying the cool air on his face and yearning to be on a broom again. Flying on the ship was an incredible experience but nothing could beat flying on a broom until he learned to fly. He was determined to pester the mystics to teach him to fly even if they taught him nothing else.

"Mr. Potter", someone called him and he turned to see one of the mystics, "master has asked us to take you to the broom shed. He has instructed us that you are free to take up any broom from the shed if you wish to fly."

"This was strange", Harry thought. It was like the mystic could always tell what Harry was thinking. There had been instances when the mystic had done things he wanted but could not ask. Shelving that thought for later, he accompanied the mystic who was of average height for a wizard, stocky build, brown eyes and black hair. All the mystics that he had met, so far, seemed like ordinary wizards and had nothing obvious to set them apart.

He started taking brooms out of the shed and inspecting them, admiring their craftsmanship. He observed that each broom was unique. His first instinct was to go for the Firebolt but he already owned a Firebolt and knew what it was like. This opportunity may be a once in a lifetime for him. He decided to test one of the other brooms. He found one which was rather large and a bit heavy. It had a thick oak handle with a spear point on the tip, the twigs in the tail were far more than in any other broom and it bore the name, "Wind Lord".

"Interesting name for a broom", he mused.

"Is there anything that you can tell me about this broom?", Harry asked.

The mystic told him a very interesting tale. "This broom is a prototype version and was developed in the U.S.A. by a wizard who had no interest in selling it. This broom has more features on it than other brooms. The wizard, who was a broom maker was also a contract killer who had killed a number of wizards by the time he ran afoul of us. We were in the U.S.A. dealing with a dark wizard who had escaped from Europe and was in hiding. Our target had hired this contract killer as his security detail. So, while we were hunting, we ran into the contract killer who was riding that broom at the time and engaged us in combat. After a long battle of 30 minutes, the contract killer was downed when the mystics used a flock of hawks to distract him then hit him in the skull with a bone breaker. The broom was retrieved and studied at length. It has a built-in disillusionment spell activated by tapping a rune. A rune is also etched into the handle to control the twigs and consequently control the movement of the broom. A wand holder is attached to the handle and the tip of the broom is sharpened to act as a javelin. It is also enchanted to fly as you wish and the charms have been done to ensure the rider cannot fall off the broom in any case."

Hearing about the qualities of the broom, some of which did not impress him much, Harry decided to test it. As soon as they reached the deck, he mounted the broom and kicked into the air. Within seconds he was airborne and looking down he realised that he was flying at a height he had never flown before. This was exhilarating. Looking back, he found that the mystic was tailing him on a Firebolt. Deciding to test the speed, he willed it to go faster to its maximum speed. As he leaned down over the handle, the broom whistled through the air at such a speed that he found it hard to breathe with the wind in his face. He slowed down and saw that he had left the ship far behind, but; the mystic joined him again after a few moments. While flying he somersaulted in the air, did the famous barrel roll, sloth grip roll and just for fun, he did the Wronski feint while the mystic just kept flying beside him smiling but saying nothing. When the time came to return to the ship, the mystic pulled his broom into a vertical climb and shot out of sight. A few seconds later, Harry saw him diving to the deck at such a speed that Harry was sure he was going to plow himself. Suddenly the mystic jumped from the broom while grabbing the handle and disapparated. With a pop, he appeared on his broom, flying beside Harry. Harry's heart leapt to his throat at the sight of the dive. The mystic was shouting in joy at the top of his lungs and as they were about 200 meters above the deck, he disappeared again. Harry was surprised to see him disappear like that but in a moment he realised that the mystic had appeared on the deck, grinning like a lunatic and beckoning Harry to come down.

Harry was impressed with the mystic's flying. He had not done any of the moves like Harry had been showing off with, but he did something which Harry had not thought possible. Harry had seen professional Quidditch players in action and none of them could do what the mystic had done. But then Harry remembered that Quidditch stadiums had anti-apparition wards around them so to jump from a broom like that would be suicide.

As he landed, he was accompanied to the dinner hall where food was served. While it was no Hogwarts feast, the food was delicious. What he did notice was that many of the men did not even touch any of the meat but other things on the table. And there was no juice or any drink other than water. After he had his fill, he picked up the glass of water which seemed to vibrate in his hand. Blaming the sensation on his tiredness and thinking that he was imagining it, he took a large sip and felt like someone had just fed him an elixir. With each gulp of water, he could feel his magic singing and he was relaxed within minutes, all his tiredness gone.

But, the effect of the wonderful water did not last long. After dinner, he was about to drop from exhaustion. The mystic who had accompanied him on his flight earlier carried him to his cabin where he crashed on the bed and immediately went to sleep.

Hermione's Journey

Two days ago, Hermione was in France, in the magical section of Paris when Remus found her there. She hadn't known the location of the magical section of the city until she boarded the plane when one Mr. Benoit Aubert who wore mismatched clothes, had the seat beside her. Hermione addressed him in fluent, but accented French, but we will put this in English for our reader's convenience:

"Hello mister. I can tell you are a wizard", she said

The man looked at her and grinned impishly, "What gave it away, young lady? Are you a witch? I can tell you are not French."

"I am a muggle born witch and I go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Scotland. I have seen other wizards trying to pass as muggles in the muggle world. It is their fashion sense that gives them away. Also you have a wand up your sleeve", she said.

The man was impressed with her, "you are a bright young witch. I am a wizard from France and I attended Beauxbatons Academy. I prefer apparition or portkey to go from one place to another but I thought I should experience the muggle methods of travel too."

She asked, "Can you tell me where the wizarding district in Paris is? I want to visit it and see the differences between it and Diagon Alley in London."

"Yes, it is called L'allée magique. You can access it through a hidden entrance in a hotel near the Eiffel tower. I will tell you how to access it", he replied.

The wizard gave her directions how to get there and open the port-hole. As soon as the plane landed, she begged her parents to allow her to go. After a relentless badgering through the night, they allowed her to visit the next day.

She went to the district two days in a row and spent most of her time in the bookshop. She was poring over a tome on Ancient Runes when she heard a familiar voice quite near her, "I should have known that I would find you here, Miss Granger."

She jumped up in fright and found Remus Lupin in front of her. Sheepishly grinning, he said, "Sorry for startling you."

"Professor Lupin! What brings you here? Is everything alright? Did Voldemort make an appearance? Has something happened to Harry?"

"No, Harry is fine and Voldemort is still in hiding. I am here because Professor Dumbledore wants to give advanced defence training to some students. I have the pleasant task of delivering this invitation to you", he said producing a letter for her, "If you choose to accept, the letter is a portkey which you may activate two days from now to bring you to Hogwarts. There is a consent form which needs to be signed by your parents, of course."

Having delivered the message, Remus disappeared. She wasted no time in getting her parents to consent and sign the form. When she activated the portkey at eight o'clock, it took her to the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts. She was baffled at this. It was a well-known fact that no one could appear in Hogwarts by a portkey or apparate anywhere in the grounds.

As she sat in the head master's office, she could not contain her query. Finally, she asked the headmaster, "Professor, no one can appear in the castle by a portkey or apparition. How is this possible?"

"It is one of the privileges of being the headmaster.", he said, "I control the wards. I can select what to allow and what to stop."

"Professor, what is this training program? Who else is going to participate? Where will we train? How can we use magic during summer?"

Dumbledore smiled at her inquisitiveness, "Recently with the return of Voldemort known and his unusual interest in the life of Harry Potter, it was determined that those who are always around him need to know how to protect themselves. Mr. Potter is a trouble magnet, as the muggles say, and so it is necessary that his friends know how to carry themselves so he won't have to worry about them. I discussed teaching the basics of Defensive Magic to you, the Weasley Children, Neville Longbottom and Susan Bones with Minerva and Alastor. It was decided that you all should know at least how to protect yourselves because you are all close to Harry Potter. While you may feel that you have a commendable repertoire of spells and that should be sufficient, mere knowledge of spells is not enough, by itself, to win a fight. In this training you will be trained to use those spells among other things. A place hidden by a Fidelius Charm and situated in an area inhabited only by magical folk has been chosen for your training. I have obtained necessary permits to allow all of you to practice underage sorcery. You will not have to worry about being reprimanded for underage magic."

"Does the ministry give exemptions to underage witches and wizards to allow them to use magic during vacations? I mean I haven't read anything about it."

"It is allowed but it is a tiresome process and then giving the permits depends on the discretion of the Ministry Official. Not many such permits are issued but I was able to convince Madam Bones to sign off for this purpose. I am sure that you will not abuse this liberty granted to you", he said. There were many more things that he didn't tell her but then there was no use in full disclosure for that would lead to many other questions and practical problems.

"Where will I stay? I mean my parents are overseas and won't return for a few weeks at least", she said.

"The Weasley Family is living at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, which is a secret society I created to fight Voldemort and his followers. The headquarters used to be the Townhouse of the House of Black. Living arrangements have been made there for you."

"How do I go there?"

Dumbledore leaned forward and whispered, "The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London."

"Was that a Fidelius secret, professor?"

"Yes. In a few minutes, Remus Lupin will arrive here to escort you to your home in Hampstead. There you will pack your school trunk with things you will need at school and for the coming weeks. Then you will be taken to the headquarters of the order."

"Professor, where is Harry?", she asked, "Is he in London where I am going?"

"No, Miss Granger", he replied, "Mr. Potter is not in Wizarding Britain in fact. He left for places unknown to learn arcane magics, the likes of which are forgotten or not heard of in living memory. He has agreed to take training under some very accomplished masters who will be teaching him things which are not available to ordinary wizards."

"But why?"

"Because, he is Harry Potter", he said simply.

"But that is bias. Why is he being trained under different teachers than us. He does not even have the best grades.", she protested, 'I think this is discrimination. Is it because he is the boy-who-lived?"

Dumbledore frowned at her. He knew that Miss Granger was a very competitive individual but he had not thought that she would complain about something which she did not understand. It looked like she had the perception that everyone should have the same access to everything. A rather mundane muggle concept but it did not apply to magical folk. He decided to curb her competitiveness a little before it got worse.

"Miss Granger, firstly you should know about this world that you belong to now. The Wizarding World is centuries old and the country was established by a council of lords, who were wizards, working in tandem with Merlin. Those Lords established their own families which predate even the Ministry of Magic and continue even now. They have several privileges for having contributed so much for the betterment of our world and they have their own proprietary form of magic called 'Family Magic'. Harry Potter, now better known as Lord Harold of Potter is the Potter of Potter meaning he is above reproach and at a position which puts him ahead of others. But that is not the reason that he is given separate training. The thing is that he is very powerful and the things that he will be learning are rather arcane arts which cannot be performed by everyone. While you have the best grades courtesy of your eidetic memory, you simply are not as powerful as him. The wizard power index which gauges a wizard or witches power has you currently gauged at 65 presently which means, you will be around 85 by the time your magical core is fully mature. Harry Potter stood at 110 before the third task and as of now, he is pegged at 200. By the time his core has completed its growth, he will easily clear 380 which is more than me or Voldemort. The Arcane arts he will be learning cannot be performed by any wizard or witch below 100 points. The only one in your class who is anywhere near as powerful as him is Neville Longbottom. He will be around 250 by the time his core fully matures."

Hermione was astounded. She knew about the index but she had not known her power levels. Wizarding Britain averaged around 75 the last few generations. While 85 sounded pretty respectable by that standard, it looked like a trifle when compared to 380. And to think that Neville was that powerful was simply mind boggling. He had never shown any such power in the last 4 years. May be there was something that she had missed. She was miffed that she could not access the arts that Harry was being taught but she still had the gift of knowledge and Harry Potter depended on her to find a solution when there was a problem.

Before she could process everything in its entirety, the door to his office opened and Remus entered, "Ready to go, Hermione?"

"Take her to her home first", Dumbledore said, "After she has packed everything she will need, take her to the Weasleys. And remember to cast a ward at her property tied solely to her before you leave."

"Why the ward?", Hermione asked.

Dumbledore answered, "To discourage uninvited guests, of course. Because you are well known in our world and this can put your family's safety at risk. This ward will monitor your house and stop other magical people from entering by force. Only you or those you lead into the property can enter it."

With that Remus took her to Hogsmead. From there, they flooed to the Leaky Cauldron. Then they took the Knight bus to her family home in Hampstead. After she packed everything she could want, Remus brought her to Grimmauld Place. She was offered the choice to have her own room or share one with Ginny. Ginny was still moping over her disenchantment with Harry, so she wasn't much of a room-mate. But it could have been worse.

Her talk with Harry helped her to understand that her infatuation was a one-way street and the fact that it was over was, if anything, a relief to Harry. He still considered her as the sister he never had, nothing more and nothing less. She had begun to consider dating other wizards, but of course, nobody was ever going to measure up to The Boy Who Lived, not even the real Harry Potter.

That was last night. This morning, they had all been out to the cottage on the hill outside of Hogsmead. The evaluation and the subsequent drills had certainly left reminders in the form of bruises, sore muscles and magical exhaustion. None of them had ever worked that hard in all their years at Hogwarts. And, if Hermione read one Alastor (Mad Eye) Moody correctly, it was only going to get harder. After a hot bath and a hot meal, courtesy of Molly Weasley's cooking, most of the children in training headed to Bed early.

That is, with the sole exception of Hermione. She was feeling the effects of today's training too, but she was a witch with a will and a mission to fulfil. Six hours, thrice per week was only 18 hours. By Hermione's calculation, that left almost 152 hours per week to study, such mundane considerations as sleeping and eating not really being more than inconveniences. Even with all the books she had purchased in Diagon Alley and L'allée magique, she would run out of reading material before three weeks were up.

She found Sirius and Remus in the meeting room where the two were discussing something they stopped talking about as she came in the room.

"Hermione, how was your day? Remus here tells me that it was very eventful."

"In practical terms of learning new magic, it was very rewarding.", she said, "But I realised today how much I have become used to seeing Harry do the impossible in situations where being book smart does not cut it."

"That is a profound observation, Hermione", Sirius said, "Do you need anything from me?"

"Sirius, do you have any books in this place?"

Sirius smirked mischievously, "The house of Black has quite an extensive library, Hermione. Most of it is currently situated at this townhouse. At last count, there were more than a thousand books in there."

"Where is it? Can I see it? What kinds of books are in there? I want to see it right now."

Remus kindly explained, "The library is on the 2nd floor, behind the double doors, but that knowledge won't help you. The library is warded and only members of the House of Black may enter there."

She frowned, 'Why can't anyone enter the library?"

Sirius explained further, "Because the entrance is warded by blood wards and so that only those possessing the blood of the House of Black may enter. It is as much to protect those books as to protect others from them."

She immediately started ranting, "But blood magic is illegal. No one can use blood wards. The ministry made it illegal by law in 1925. And why is it that only members of the House of Black can enter the library? Why keep knowledge hoarded away from others?"

Now Sirius gave her his full attention, "Hermione, you are very bright and you learn things quickly, but; there is still so much of the wizarding world that you do not yet understand. Some wizarding families are very old. We have our own magic and many other special achievements which are considered our proprietary magic. These are spells that have been developed, acquired, refined or gifted to the House of Black over centuries. They can only be wielded by our family members. Attempts to do so by anyone else will result in failure at best and horrible death at worst. Protecting that magic is serious business. People familiar with our customs understand why they exist. We are under no obligation to share what we have earned. On the contrary, we are obliged to protect that magic and protect others from it. The blood wards which protect them are older than the ministry, its laws and even Great Britain as a nation therefore, they are not within the scope of those restrictions. Besides, there is a lot of stuff in there that is downright dangerous which is not fit for someone as young as you. You understanding of magic may be flawless but you can't resist the temptation that it would offer to you. I don't want you or anyone getting hurt or worse."

"But what about the muggle born and half-bloods? I think it is barbaric and archaic to keep magic contained in families. It should be made illegal. It is all part of the pureblood tripe that you-know-who and his followers spew", she continued her rant, "if you keep it contained in a few families, there is no way that new inventions can happen, new spells are made or any progress is achieved. It is all part of the effort of the pure bloods to keep an upper hand in these matters."

Sirius just shook his head, "You know, when Moony told me that you are smart like Lily, I had thought you would think like her. While she always thought she was muggle born and was pretty vocal about their rights and better treatment, she understood the family magic and proprietary magic. She did not just slap a label on everything she didn't agree with as archaic or barbaric, but; she studied things before forming her opinion. You on the other hand, are ruled by your biases and opinions which you form based on whatever you think is right without even thinking things through first. You, who haven't even been in this world for 5 years, can't make an assumption based on your muggle upbringing. You see things only your way and that can prove problematic to you in the future. While I do not take offense at your words, some well- meaning pure bloods who do not support the pureblood ideology of Voldemort (she shuddered) like the Weasleys would be offended by your words."

Hermione had never been chastised by Sirius of all people but she could see his point. She had been spouting her opinion without even listening to other people. She never even thought that there might be another facet to something that she did not know about. In the last few weeks, twice she had been humbled and perhaps it was time to stand back and do some introspection.

"I can remove the blood wards," Sirius's voice cut in on her thoughts, "but the library is full of books on dark magic and magic that has not been seen for ages. There are books on the Black family magic which cannot be read by anyone other than a Black and if anyone else even touched them, they would be cursed horribly. For your own safety, I must insist that you are supervised at all times while you are in that library and in fact you are not allowed in the inner parts where the most dangerous books are. I will allow you entry into the outer part of the library where the mostly harmless books are and which you can read without any issues. Also, there are several books which were recently bought by your former Professor which would be useful to all of you."

She instantly perked up knowing that Remus would not select books for them which were dark or dangerous.

As she talked to Remus about what books he had brought, Sirius waved his wand in the air and then called his elf, "Winky."

There was a soft pop announcing the arrival of the house elf, "Yes Master?"

"From this moment forth, all children are allowed to enter the outer chamber of the library subject to three conditions- firstly, none of them are allowed to try to enter the inner chamber, secondly no books shall be taken out of the library and lastly, no one is allowed to be in the library for more than 5 hours per day. All three conditions are to be strictly enforced."

Hermione immediately followed Winky into the room, occupied a table and started working on her Summer homework.

The Marichika, Somewhere on the Mediterranean Sea

Harry Potter woke up when he heard a loud blast. On opening his eyes, he did not immediately recognise the room that he was in. The wooden walls were certainly not familiar to him but in a few moments, he remembered that he was on the ship that sailed from London last night. Wiping sleep away from his eyes, he emerged on the deck, where he found the mystics engaged in exercise. What astonished him was that they were all engaged in muggle exercises. Some of them were running laps of the deck, a few were doing push-ups and some were lifting heavy weights which they evidently had conjured. A couple of them were flying on brooms and some of them were sitting in meditation as Harry had seen Harsh do.

Sometime during the night, they had landed the ship. It was rising and falling with the gentle, slow rhythm of the ocean swells. The morning sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, its early rays giving a reddish hue to the scene.

He looked around for Harsh and found him sitting in the crow's nest. When he saw Harry, he climbed down with a speed and grace almost supernatural, leaping the last twenty feet to land softly on his feet. Grinning at Harry, he said, "Good Morning Mr. Potter. I hope you had a restful night."

"I had a restful night, thank you", he replied, "But I have a lot of questions."

Harsh laughed, "I know. I have been procrastinating answers from you like your headmaster however it was not my intent. We were in haste these last few days. Now I can start answering these questions but I beg you to be discrete and do not ask questions which are rather personal after we have had a nice breakfast."

After a hearty breakfast in the mess hall, they were sitting in Harsh's suite. Harry thought over what question to ask first as he had a lot of them to ask.

Harry began, "Who are the mystics? I have heard hints and whispers of you and seen the things you have done these last few days. Other people seem to hold you in awe. But, who are you really? My curiosity is piqued."

Harsh pondered the answer for a moment before he began, "when Great Britain was still Avalon and the world knew of magic, there was a time when some wizards started using magic for nefarious purposes. These wizards were very powerful and adept in ways of magic. They by their deeds dishonoured Mother Magic and kept doing so. Anyone who wanted to stand up to them was killed. In those times, the ancient lands of magic India, Greece, Rome and Egypt were prominent and to deal with this menace, some Indian warlords who were very powerful due to being descended from very ancient families formed an order which had access to all ancient magics in collaboration with warlords, mages and wizards from other countries. The chief work of this order was to eliminate those who defile magic; they also worked in keeping a balance in the society. Evil has always been in the society, sometime at the fringes, sometimes in its full glory. Therefore, to combat evil and to serve mother magic, the group of Wizards formed this order. Since then we have been fighting evil. Sometimes we are able to nip it in the bud, sometimes we fight full-fledged wars. One of our works is to hide all dangerous knowledge from the world. For example, there was a curse which could end an entire army at once but we removed all knowledge of it, there was a curse which could go on for generations and remove families so we removed all knowledge of it. Many of the darker aspects of soul magic were removed by us to protect the world."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. He could understand how old the order was and the noble purpose for which it was formed. "My second question is how old are you? That is, if it is not too personal a question", he asked the mystic.

Harsh was silent for a few moments before he replied, "It has been so long since I answered this question that I cannot even remember however I was old when House of Potter was formed. Avalon was populated by wizards and powerful families which precede all the houses. As I have told you, there were three houses which are considered Reverent houses meaning any descendant of those Houses is more important than others and they get 5 votes on the Wizengamot instead of the traditional 2. Those were the house of Pendragon from which came King Arthur sometime later, the house of Le Fay which produced the nefarious witch Morgana and the House of Peverell which produced the three brothers- Cadmus, Antioch and Ignotus. The House of Pendragon went extinct some generations before Arthur was born. It was due to his ancestry that the wizarding world bowed to him as its King. The house of Le Fay was broken in three houses of which only house Greengrass remains."

"Can you tell me about these three brothers that you mention?", Harry asked "I have not heard about them."

Harsh smiled at him, "Three brothers in the story written by Beedle the Bard. The three brothers named Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus who became the last lords of the House of Peverell before it was merged with Potters. Antioch was lord of the House of Peverell before he was killed by an enemy of his and he was succeeded by his brother Cadmus who killed himself in grief over his lost love and lastly there was Ignotus who coincidentally happens to be the last war mage of Avalon. Their glorious tale has been reduced to a children's story. We, the mystics have been visiting Avalon since the time that the council of Lords which was founded by Merlin ruled upon magical Britain as representative of the crown. I personally met Myyrdin when he was assisting Arthur in reclaiming his throne."

"Merdin?", Harry asked, "Who was that?"

Harsh shook his head, "That was the name of the grand sorcerer that you call Merlin in your modern language. That was his actual name before modern English existed."

Harry was shocked. The mystic did not look like he was older than Sirius and to hear him tell of Merlin as if he knew him personally was astounding. He could not close his mouth before words tumbled out, "But you do not look like you can be more than 40."

Question time was over. With a very Dumbledore-like twinkle in his eye, Harsh shot a stinging hex at him. Harry yelped in surprise. What Harry didn't notice right away, was that the mystic had not used a wand to cast the spell. While Harry was gathering his wits about him, the mystic followed up with a whole barrage of stinging hexes. Harry rolled out of the direct path of fire while drawing his wand. He conjured a shield as he sprang to his feet. Harry was always proud of his power. When he practiced against Hermione and Ron, his shield could take everything they could dish out for 15 minutes before failing. He was confident that his shield would hold up even longer against the lone efforts of Harsh's attack. He was surprised when the twelfth shot shattered his shield and raised a welt on his arm. Thinking this must be a fluke, Harry raised another shield, but that one shattered even faster. Harsh looked disappointed. Apparently, what he was trying to teach was not getting through, but his stingers were.

A good half an hour and around 60 welts later, Harry Potter was tired from all the magic he had spent erecting shields when he finally gave up and slumped down on the deck panting.

Harsh immediately levitated him upside down and barked, "Constant Vigilance, Mr. Potter. I cannot believe that you can give up defending yourself so easily. Has the recent events did not teach you yet to remain alert to your surroundings? You thought I was playing with you? This was your first lesson, Mr. Potter. Never ever turn your back on an enemy who is still standing or he will hex you in the back. And next time if I find that you dropped your guard until you are sure that you are safe, you will face punishment that you can't even think of."

The warning was enough to tell Harry what was in store for him. From this moment on, Harsh will not be the trainee healer who had been entertaining him. It will be the Lord of Mystics he would have to interact with, who gave no second chances, who expected total dedication from his men and who expected his orders to be obeyed without question. Harry resolved to not give the mystic a chance to complain.

Harsh released the Levicorpus and Harry crumpled to the deck. Harsh resumed his barrage of stingers as Harry rolled back to his feet and conjured yet another shield. Harry's reserves were gone and he felt his strength waning, but; he was going to pass-out cold before he let Harsh zap him again.

Now that Harsh could see that Harry was taking this seriously and knowing that Harry was on the point of exhaustion, he lowered his wand and gently told him, "At ease, Mr. Potter. This lesson is over."

Harry lowered his wand, wavering where he stood as he relaxed and looking down, he murmured, "I am sorry Mr. Harsh Vardhan. I will try to keep sharp from now on."

Harsh looked into his eyes and Harry shivered. Harsh's black eyes were intense and there was a strange kind of power in them. Harry had looked at Voldemort eye to eye and he had never felt that kind of power but this was different. He sensed that those eyes were looking into his soul.

"Mr. Potter, we have now come to an important point. Whenever we take someone in our order, we do a ceremony to induct them into our ranks," Harsh was saying, "We tie a thread on their wrist which is tied with some long invocations and it symbolises the bond of a master- apprentice between them. This bond is a symbol of good faith, trust and devotion. The enchanted thread also informs me if you are in trouble ever and this is a sign of a bond between a teacher and his student. Another hidden purpose of it is to remind you that you have been taught by a teacher and that if the time ever came, that teacher can call upon you to serve him. If he ever has to call on you, then the teacher unties the thread meaning you are free of the debt. May be I will never have to call a favour on you and I will untie it the day you will come back or maybe I will ask you to do something to satisfy your debt to me someday. Another thing is that I have known you for a month now and yet we are the stage of using this prefix of Mr. for each other. For the summer, I am going to be your teacher and in India, we have different culture than England. While I have no aversion to any place or culture, for me and my mystics, teacher is on a pedestal higher than god. We address our teachers as 'Guruji' meaning teacher however if you do not like, you can call me sir and likewise I will call you Harry."

Harry thought it over for a moment. Until he learned of his heritage, he had been Harry to others and likewise he called them by name. As for his teachers, they had more of a professional relationship with the students and what Harsh was explaining felt like a familial bond to him. He had been noting that the purebloods even the light ones like Longbottoms and Weasleys practiced certain manners which he once would have called snobbish but perhaps there was some reason behind these customs and manners. He knew that while not everything was good there were some things which needed to be kept as ways to show respect. In his quest to defeat Voldemort, he would have to ensure that the wizarding world did not change its identity altogether. While some practices decidedly could not be retained, some were worth saving. As to Harsh's offer, he had made up his mind already.

He turned to Harsh, "I would be honoured to address you as Guruji. I would like to learn your ways and customs and add them to my own. I recall Dumbledore having told me that in the older days, newly graduated wizards used to go on a world tour so that they could experience the customs and ways of other people first-hand as well as learn other magic. I have the opportunity to visit your land, one which has an ancient and rich history, culture and magic. I would like to make the very best of it."

Harsh smiled at him producing an enchanted piece of string, "Harold Peverell-Potter-Black Rosier-Weber, do you accept?"

Harry readily accepted and Harsh tied the red and yellow thread on his wrist chanting something. As he finished tying the thread, the thread glowed golden before it returned to its original colour.

Harry was looking at it in surprise while Harsh was looking curiously at him, "This happens when mother magic approves of something that is done. If she had not wished so, the golden glow would never have come. Now this thread cannot be untied by me before I make you ready for the task that is your stepping stone to a greater destiny."

Harry nodded his head and wondered at how every single one of his steps had a deeper meaning. He had never stopped to consider the consequences of his actions before but now that he did, he was beginning to realize that his every action and choice had consequences.

Harry nodded, "Guruji, what is the story of the men who met us when we went to St. Mungo's?"

Harsh smiled, "I was wondering when you were going to ask me about that. The men who met me are parts of the Chayya (shadow) whose work is to carry out covert tasks. They are kind of our intelligence gathering units who work in shadows to gather intelligence or information. From the time you left Hogwarts at the end of Summer Holidays, we have had a shadow present around you all the time. He has been present there in your room at the Black Townhouse where he popped in at times to keep vigil over you. When we had to visit St. Mungo's, he was present in your kitchen and after listening to Dumbledore, he silently left and went to scout around St. Mungo's and found two of the death eaters lurking in corners, avoiding eyes of ordinary wizards when our shadows cornered them and took them captive. Since then they have been in care of the shadows."

He clapped his hands and the men Harry had met the other day, appeared before them. Bowing low, he bent touching Harsh's feet, "Guruji, you called?"

Harsh asked him, "Nayak Himvat, have our guests told you anything of consequence?"

Himvat grinned maliciously, "At first they were reluctant and even had the guts to threaten us with the name of that abomination on Mother Magic. But when Meru Dand used them as whet-stones for sharpening knives, they sung like the koyal in the morning."

Harsh smirked at his nayak's expression, "I trust you have not killed them because I was looking forward to have some enlightening conversation with them."

Himvat grinned, "They have been free boarders of the prison since the last few days and their trash talk has been grating on my poor ears. The sooner you have enlightenment from them, sooner my ears will have rest."

Harsh stood, "Very well. Tell Dishant to get the ship airborne. I will have my enlightenment and then we will have to pace up our journey. I don't want to go all the way like a muggle cruise. I wish to see the Indian coastline by morning tomorrow."

The amazing ship took to the air once more as Harry accompanied Harsh to the lowest deck where there had been nothing but empty space. Tugging at a spot in the air, he grasped it and whispered something and a door appeared followed by a prison. There were two men in the room hanging upside-down in chains. Harry thought that they could have apparated out but soon realised that perhaps the chain was enchanted to prevent apparition.

Harsh lowered the two men to the ground. "Hello my esteemed guests. I am very sorry that I could not already come and welcome you to our ship but I had been busy. We will remedy the situation now. So, why don't we take off your masks before we talk", he winked at Harry, "that will make our conversation easier since I would be able to understand you better."

One of the death eaters snarled, "You cannot take it off, fool. This is a gift of our great master and only he or I can take it off."

Harsh had not lost his calm demeanour and spoke in his jovial tone, "Then either your master is too vain or you are a fool to think he is infallible." Harsh gestured and immediately their masks started to smoke. Harsh lowered his tone and menaced the prisoners, "The abomination you call master thinks that he is the most powerful wizard."

The men were pulling at their masks, trying to get them away from their faces as the masks smoked more and began to burn.

Harsh continued, "But, he is a great fool. I can easily remove those masks, and your faces with them if I so choose."

Now the death eaters were howling in pain as their masks burst into flame. They became frantic as they tried to get the flaming things off their faces. With another gesture from Harsh, the masks vanished with the flames and smoke, revealing the two faces. Harry recognized them immediately. They were Crabbe Sr. and John Caldwell, two of the death eaters who were present in the graveyard the night when Voldemort returned.

Harsh smiled at the men, "Now that I have seen your charming faces, maybe you should start talking about what that abomination that you call master, is doing. And remember gentlemen, you lie for once and I will make you regret it forever."

Crabbe Sr. who apparently was a larger and smarter version of his son, started to speak, "the dark lord is recruiting more people to his cause. We were sent to scout the hospital and discover any weaknesses in its defences. Last time, he was not able to take St. Mungo's which had become a sanctuary for the injured. He wanted us to study the wards and find out how much time it would take to break them if the need arose. We were also told to make note of the prominent healers who could be abducted and used to do his bidding. We had just started that day and were caught."

Harsh nodded at his words and tilting his head to the side turned to Caldwell, "What he has been doing and how many have pledged their loyalty to him yet?"

Caldwell refused to open his mouth. Harsh simply fast-drew his wand and shot a bone breaker at the man's chest. It struck him with such force that Harry could hear his bones breaking. The man cried out loud. Seeing his friend in such a desperate position, Crabbe immediately started again, "the dark lord has been busy recruiting. He is also trying to pick up a glass orb from the Hall of Prophesy. Something is in there that he believes will give him an edge in the upcoming war but we have been unable to pick it up. One of his followers, Marcus Flint tried to pick up that orb from the shelf. Since then he has been in St. Mungo's. Last I heard, he appointed some of his inner circle men to find a way to pick up the said object without any harm coming to us. He has also sent envoys to recruit the giants to join our side."

Harry shuddered thinking of giants coming in to aid Voldemort. He had known two half giants in his life and had seen the amount of ridicule they had to face because of their heritage. He could not even think of what would happen if there were some giants in the war. He remembered Dumbledore sending Hagrid on some mission during the summer vacation and guessed that perhaps Hagrid was going to the giants with Madame Maxime, headmistress of Beauxbatons.

Harsh who had been silent all this while, turned to the death eaters, "You gentlemen have told me all you know and it is time that you leave our ship. I detest free loaders."

He clapped his hands again and two mystics appeared, "Yes Master."

He turned to the mystics, "we are flying through the zone where there is abundance of predator birds. Last I remember they were fond of partridges. These two fine gentlemen here have offered to feed those birds. Take them to the bow."

The guards hauled the death eaters out of the cell and took them to the bow with Harry and Harsh following closely. As they reached the bow, Harsh drew his wand and with a quick gesture, the two death eaters were replaced by partridges. "Mr. Potter, would you like to do the honour of feeding the predators?"

Harry could not bring himself to do it. It was true that the two death eaters had killed many people, but; Harry was not a killer. He had caused the death of Quirrell, but; that was a life and death struggle, with a walking corpse possessed by Voldemort and it was more like an exorcism than a killing. There was the shade of Tom Riddle in the chamber of secrets, in that case, he had not attacked the human looking thing directly, but; destroyed the diary with the very same basilisk fang which had pierced his own arm. This was different. This was an execution, cold, calculated and deliberate. Even though his parents and grandparents had done their best to convince him of the need to kill, he still could not bring himself to do it, not yet, not this way. He shook his head to the mystic telling him that he was not ready to take a life.

Harsh merely shrugged and tossed the partridges into the air. Harry watched in horrified fascination as the two of them dived desperately toward the desert sand, hopeful of finding some cover there. But, to no avail. A griffon swooped down out of the sun with blinding speed, then all that remained of the partridges was a few drifting feathers.

Harry felt like throwing up but Harsh shot a spell at him and his queasiness was gone in the next moment. Feeling the need to get his thoughts in order, he retired to his room where he remained until Harsh summoned him.

Longbottom Castle

Healer Lynn, who visited the castle regularly, prescribed two special chairs for Frank and Alice since they preferred to sit most of the time. Augusta was too happy to buy them. The chairs functioned essentially as muggle wheelchairs but didn't require anyone to push them. They could be moved around with intent. To operate it, the user merely had to think of a specific function and the chair would do it.

This morning, Frank and Alice were sitting at the window of their chamber looking upon the ring of trees in the distance which circled the property. They were conversing in low voices. Since they woke up, they had heard nothing about any of their friends and Augusta wasn't telling them. The only topic of discussion between them was the only stranger they had met since they woke up. Harry Potter.

"Who do you think has raised Harry over the years?", Alice asked, "I mean we were among those authorised to take his guardianship in case something happened to James and Lilly."

Frank asked, "Do you recall that Sirius was the first person who had the right to take his guardianship? I don't think he would have allowed anyone to take custody of Harry, especially if we weren't around."

Alice observed, "But that doesn't explain why he looked so out of place, malnourished, skinny and as if not comfortable in his own skin."

Frank sighed, "No it doesn't."

Alice said, "I want to bring Harry to live with us as soon as we are fit enough to care for him. He looked so lonely and small. I remember James at his age was well built and quite the charming young man. Either Sirius Black has failed in his duties or he is not around as you said he would not have let any harm come to Harry. In any case, when we get shod of that bothersome healer, I am going to discover the truth and if I find that the mutt is still around and failed in his duties, then I swear by Merlin that I will neuter that mutt."

They heard someone snort and turned around to find their own son eavesdropping on their conversation. Frank smirked at Alice.

She frowned at Neville, "How long exactly have you been eavesdropping on our private conversation, young man? Has no one ever taught you that is not proper."

Neville put on an air of offended innocence, "I am sorry, mother. I could see that the two of you were talking and I was about to leave when I heard you mention Harry Potter. I just could not resist staying to hear what you would say about him. Imagine how my innocent, young ears burned to hear you cuss so."

Alice, joining in with the spirit of the thing, adopted an air of utmost contrition, "My dear boy, I shall have to wash my mouth out with soap.". Then, more seriously, "Young man, if I ever catch you listening in on our private conversation again, I shall have words with you when I get out of this infernal Chair."

Frank added, "And if you must eavesdrop, make sure you don't get caught."

Neville did his best to feign mortification and abject horror at being thus threatened. Frank, no longer able to contain himself, burst out laughing. Alice and Neville tried to maintain their charade, but; one look directly at Frank and they were undone. They laughed until they were clutching their stomachs and tears flowed from their eyes.

Frank sobered up after a while, "Now Neville, these past few days that we have been back in the world of the living, you have only asked of our past and told nothing of the present or how things are going in the world yonder. We are strapped here in these infernal chairs away from the world. It makes me wonder if we are any better off now than we were when we were trapped in our own mindscapes."

Alice glared at Frank, "Speak for yourself Frank. I for one am very happy to be here joking with the two of you and being able to embrace my son and my husband once more. We are on the mend and will be strong again soon enough. My mindscape, without the two of you, was a very lonely place indeed."

"Mindscapes? I have heard you both mention them a couple of times and Mr. Harsh also said something about entering them to revive you both. What are they?", Neville asked curiously.

Alice's face fell then she started, "Do you mean to say that you haven't even started... That your grandmother didn't teach... Oh! Neville… I am so sorry." Then she collected herself and started to explain, "If you were taught mind arts as is the tradition among the heirs of the pureblood families of old, you would know that a mindscape is a part of mind magic. A mindscape is a construct of magic and your mind and it serves some vital functions. First and foremost, a mindscape is your defence against Legilimency, preventing unwanted intrusions into your thoughts, feelings and memories. As such, it is integral to the art of Occlumency. Second, it is a valuable tool to help you to organize and retrieve important information, things like core memories, facts and your spells. Third, and this is what saved your father's life and mine, it can also be used as a place of retreat to protect your mind and soul when you are subjected to torture or unbearable pain from injury."

There was one thought which Neville latched on to with enthusiasm, "Do you mean that if I had a proper mindscape, that I would be able to store and retrieve important information with ease? Mom! I have struggled with a terrible memory and this would be a huge help! Why do they not teach this at Hogwarts? I think that everyone should know about it."

Frank, who had been content to listen to his wife teach, took the lead now, "My son, there are some things of which we never speak outside of pure-blood families. This is one of them since if everyone was versed in the art of Legilimency, what will happen to secrets? If someone possessed some top secret information, it wouldn't be safe in their heads. Had I not been in a coma, I would have begun your training around the age of eight. As it was, this would have fallen to your grandmother. I am so sorry that you have struggled. I will begin your training as soon as I am strong enough."

Neville had a lot to think about, but before one more moment passed, he needed to let his parents know that Gran had done her best, "Mother, father, Gran did try to teach me. I had no idea of what it was or how it would help me and ... well, I didn't try very hard."

Frank softened a bit. This is his son and he fully accepted responsibility for his failure. Then he remembered that it was his father who had instructed him. Perhaps his mother was not much of a teacher. He began, "It's alright Neville. I will teach you as my father taught me. I hope that now that you understand how important this art is, that I will find nothing lacking in your efforts to learn it. In the meantime, please ask healer Lynn to instruct you in meditation. You will need to know how before we can begin."

Neville brightened at this, "Yes sir! I will be ready when you are."

"Just one more thing, Neville. Please don't choose a forest mindscape. You'll have a devil of a time finding anything in one of those."

Neville instantly perked up, "Forest mindscape? That would be amazing!"

Frank turned to Alice to see a broad smile across her face. "He is my son, Frank", she said with visible pride.

Frank sighed, "Yes Neville. This charming lady here, who I have the honour to call my wife, has a forest mindscape. She had a lot of animals in the forest. I once tried to enter and was baffled at the first step when I ran into an Acromantula. As I ran away from the beast, I was charged by a Unicorn. Running from them, I fell into a river and then I decided to make my exit before any serious harm came to me."

Neville turned to his mother who was looking a little sad, "The last 14 years have not been kind to my beloved mindscape. By the time Harsh found me, the trees were all uprooted and burned and all the creatures were dead with the exception of one Romanian Longhorn who was my protector. It is the only defence I have right now."

Frank shuddered to hear what had happened to her mindscape and seeing the effect it had on Neville, he spoke to distract him, "Neville, I know of the conditions that the healer placed upon you but won't you tell me at least something about the world yonder and give some peace of mind to your old man. I am not asking for much, just answer a few questions of mine."

"Sorry Father, I am under strictest orders not to say anything", Neville said, "I apologise but you'll have to forgive me."

"It was not a request, Scion Longbottom", Frank said, "As the pater familias and the Lord of Longbottom, I command you to answer my questions."

Neville knew he should not tell him anything, but; he could not refuse a direct request from his father. He merely nodded, "I will answer those questions which will not open a whole can of flobberworms."

Frank grinned, "Excellent. Now tell us if Dumbledore is still around? Are Sirius, Remus and Peter alive? What happened to Voldemort? What happened to the war?"

"Father, of all the questions, I can only tell you that Dumbledore is still alive and is currently serving as Headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump of the ICW and Chief Warlock. Sirius, Remus and Peter are alive but there is nothing more that I can say. The war which was going on when you both were attacked ended with you-know-who being vanquished by Harry Potter. You-know-who was vanquished at Godrick's Hollow the night of October 31 1981 after killing Lilly and James Potter but failing to kill Harry. If anyone knows how that happened, they have not told me."

"Who raised Harry Potter?", Frank asked, "And tell me whatever you know about Sirius, Remus and Peter."

"That is not something I am authorised to tell you", said Neville, "You'll have to ask the Healer to answer those questions."

Frank did not chastise Neville but grumbled about telling off the healer.

So it was that Healer Lynn found them in the chairs and when she tried to use a diagnostic spell, Frank stopped her saying that he would not allow her to cast any spell unless she permitted Neville to answer his questions.

Consequently, half an hour later, Augusta Longbottom arrived at the castle. After a quick diagnostic, Augusta agreed to allow some questions to be answered. Healer Lynn gave them a final check and left before they began their question and answer session. Augusta also said that if they became over-excited or showed signs of stress, she would call a halt to it and no more questions would be answered for another week. Although Frank wasn't too happy about it, he agreed to his mother's terms.

As Neville was asked the questions, it fell upon him to answer them, "Sirius Black, Professor Lupin and Peter Pettigrew are alive but Peter is in the custody of the DMLE head, Madam Bones who is going to try him for betraying the Potters. Yes, it was said that Sirius was their secret keeper but they played a prank on everybody which ended in Sirius being sent to Azkaban."

"Did you-know-who die?

"Not many people believe it but no, he did not die. In my first year at Hogwarts, he turned up again, possessing Professor Quirrell, the DADA teacher that year and Harry defeated him again. And again, if anyone knows how, they are not talking to me about it. Finally, I'm not clear on the details, but; Albus Dumbledore announced that he got his body back last June and he is active again. All the death eaters who claimed to be under the Imperius curse and bribed their way out of sentences in Azkaban when he fell, are working for him again. They are doing so quietly for now. Cornelius Fudge, the minister for magic, is being difficult. He is trying to silence or discredit everyone who believes that You-Know-Who is back and some are saying that he is being bribed.".

"Fudge!", Frank exclaimed, "they gave the position to Fudge? Did the wizarding world lose its mind? Fudge was a pacifist. Absolutely the wrong man for the job with a war brewing. He barely managed his department as it was. What happened to old cousin Barty? He was tough as nails and it was assumed that he was a shoe-in as the next minister."

Neville looked to his grand-mother before answering this time. He already felt that he may have said too much.

With a signal from Augusta, Healer Lynn jogged back into the room. She took one look at Frank and shook her head. Augusta sternly glared at her son, "That will be quite enough for now, Frankie. We have agreed that you will have to wait for the rest of the answers. I promise next week, when you are stronger, you will be given more answers."

Instead of objecting, Frank pouted making everyone laugh.

Black Town House

Sirius was tired from the exertions of the day. This was a day off for the young ones, so he took Moony with him to the cottage on the hill where Moony put him through his paces.

First the werewolf made him run laps around the property for an hour. Then they duelled, keeping it to nothing stronger than stinging hexes. Sirius started off by dodging when he could and shielding when he had to, but; he was rusty and some of them got through. He managed to get a few stingers off himself, but that wasn't the point of the exercise. Now he was weary and sore from the run as well as smarting from the hexes that got through. But there was also the feeling of euphoria from a really good work-out after far too long a time. In spite of his aches and pains, he felt better than he had since before he was dragged off to Azkaban. He thought that even though he wasn't a teenager anymore, a couple of days rest and he would be back at it, stronger than before.

After Moony finished using him for a training dummy, the werewolf had him practice disarming while he kept disapparating all over the property, sometimes appearing behind Sirius and stunning him before disappearing again. Sirius had to work harder and concentrate harder because he wasn't using his old wand.

Amelia told him that his wand was placed in ministry storage after he was arrested and last time she checked, the wand was under the best protection that the ministry could offer. The wand he was using belonged to the last Lord Black, Arcturus Orion Black. A lesser known secret about Arcturus Orion Black was that he was a master wand maker. The five master-piece wands he made in his entire life were sold to a wand maker who was on the payroll of the family of Black. Perhaps, he could convince Dumbledore to let him visit Mazarin.

As he stepped into the kitchen, he found himself being hoisted to the ceiling by one ankle by means of a muggle snare. A few moments later, the twins entered the kitchen, saw him, howled with laughter and then disillusioned him and left. Sirius smirked. He could rely on the twins to make things fun when it got monotonous. He quickly called Kreacher and the elf freed him in a matter of seconds. Then he gave some instructions to the elf and went to find Moony. He did not want to be in the house when his pranks became apparent and everyone started looking for the culprit behind the mayhem. He silently prayed that the witches in the house would never figure out that it was him.

He found Moony in the library and quickly explained why it would be a good time to make themselves scarce. Moony did not have to be told twice. The two of them left on the motorcycle the same minute. It was for just such occasions that the cottage on the hill was well stocked with provisions.

He thought that while he was hiding from the rest of the Order, he could send a letter to the wand maker and arrange a meeting. To do so would require some pretty creative planning. Good thing that he brought the brains of the Marauders with him.

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