Chapter 8: Reflections and Preparations
******Potter's Redoubt, Lancashire 2200 17 August, 1994******
Harry walked the property line of the Redoubt once more before heading to bed. The previous three days had been hectic. Wards, elemental practice, exercise, sparring and communicating with McGonagall and Flitwick on preparations for their apprenticeships. Hermione made him slow down from the frenetic pace he set for himself after The Marduk had attacked them.
She had come to him late one night as he reviewed the proposed ward scheme from Phalanx Home Defense and Wards - it must have been near midnight - and cuddled up to him in his chair.
"Love, I'm trying to get this done."
"Shut up, Harry. I'm your wife and I've determined that you are working too hard and must relax some. We shall sit here and cuddle for ten minutes and then we shall go to bed and make love quite vigorously."
He couldn't help it. Bursting into laughter, he almost dumped Hermione from his lap. Ward schema plans forgotten, he held her close with one hand as he wiped the tears of laughter from his face with the other.
"We seem to have shifted roles."
She smiled smugly at him. "Yes." Her amused expression faltered and she said, "Seriously, though. You are working far too hard. The temporary wards that Phalanx put up reinforced the family protections here. On top of that, Fawkes and Nemeas keep us safe when we sleep. We've really come a long way in using our control in combat-type situations. Your idea of shaping air instead of reacting to it was brilliant. "
"And then you went and figured out the physics of how to make it work more effectively. I still think those plasma balls of yours are very cool."
He held up a piece of parchment. "Minerva dropped a note and apparently, Neville's Gran was killed by a beast that is reminiscent of The Marduk."
Hermione frowned and took the letter, "Really?"
A long moment later, she chewed her lip and muttered, "Hunh."
"Yeah, my thought entirely."
Hermione's eyes got a far away look and he could tell that she was currently being very smart, so he let her be. In a wondering tone, she asked, "I wonder if Neville's birthday is in the end of July?"
Stunned, Harry sat there for a minute. "You don't think?"
With a sad smile, Hermione rubbed the scar on her husband's forehead, "Marked as his equal."
Harry gave a resigned sigh and then shook his head. "I wouldn't want to push this off on Neville or anyone else. I suppose I wasn't the only candidate and The Marduk was covering all eventualities."
Hermione nodded and rubbed his back as she was thinking. "Do you think Neville should know the prophecy so he can understand what's going on around him?"
"Yeah. Will Fawkes carry a message for us? Maybe we could go there for tea tomorrow or the next day?"
She nodded and fell silent. After almost a minute, she gave him a coy little smile and asked, "Aren't you forgetting something?"
He looked at her blankly. Rolling her eyes, she leaned in and kissed him quite forcefully. When she pulled away, he smiled and said, "Oh, yeah. Vigorously, right?" She smiled back at him and flickered her eyebrows. A soft surge of air slowly lifted them out of his chair and wafted up the steps to the bedroom.
Outside, a golden Griffin settled down in the back garden, content with the Phoenix to be in the house watching over their masters.
******Tonks Home, Near Bodmin, Cornwall, 1800, 19 August, 1994******
The kitchen fireplace roared as the Floo disgorged first Hermione and then Harry. Andromeda was there finishing dinner and looked at them with a confused expression.
Chuckling, Hermione gave Harry a hand up after he'd fallen on his posterior. After brushing themselves off, they noticed Andromeda. Harry approached her with his hand extended saying, "How do you do, I'm Harry Potter, this is my wife Hermione."
Now Andromeda's eyebrows rose to heights heretofore unknown. "But you're classmates of Neville's. How can you be…?"
"Adults?" Hermione finished with a smile. "It's a very long story that we would like to tell you. First off, we have an odd question: when is Neville's birthday?"
"That is an odd question. It's July 30th, why?"
Harry's face was grim and he nodded to his wife. Hermione gave Andromeda a small smile and answered, "All will be explained this evening. Would you like to eat first or tell stories?"
After a shocked Neville greeted the Potters, the three Tonks, the Potters and the lone Longbottom decided to compromise and eat while telling stories. Hermione led off and let Harry eat. After a bit, they switched off and Harry took up the tale. They told of the attack of The Marduk and the murder of the Dursley's. The subsequent crisscrossing of Britain on a broom got a smile from Neville.
"What a punishment, make Harry ride his broom all day."
The Potters smiled and continued the story. Meeting up with Sirius and Remus drew an exclamation from Andromeda and open mouths from Nymphadora and Ted. "That slacking son of a bitch!" She looked horrified with her language and murmured an indistinct apology to all. "He has been out all this time and didn't come to me for help! I'll show him! He knew I'd help him!"
"Which is why he didn't come here. He didn't want to get you in trouble," said Harry after swallowing a mouthful of potatoes.
"Well, where is he? I want to hug him and then smack him."
Harry held up a placating hand and Hermione continued. The second attack of The Marduk and the flight to Ireland. They paused before describing meeting Brigid. Hermione said, "Then something very strange happened. Something that I was not even remotely prepared for and if you'd told me the same story the day before, I'd have checked y0u into an asylum."
The Tonks and Neville all furrowed there brows at this. Nymphadora merely twirled her fingers in a `get on with it' motion.
"We met Brigid, the goddess of fire for the Tuatha De Dannan."
Wide eyes around the table regarded the Potters. Neither Harry nor Hermione looked away, challenging the others to dispute the statement. When no one said anything for a long moment, Hermione continued the tale.
Going Underhill from the Lia Fail. The healing of Sirius and Remus. Elementals, the history of such and their purpose. Their training and marriage which led them to their return, leaving Sirius and Remus behind.
"We're living in a Potter family home in Lancashire and had another encounter with this being that The Morrigan identified as The Marduk. We hope to destroy it next time we have the good fortune to meet it." Harry finished up with a predatory grin that gave Andromeda a cold chill down her spine.
The Tonks family and Neville were in quite a bit of shock. Finally, Andromeda shook her head and asked, "What was that about Neville's birthday?"
Harry sighed and his face became grim again. "I was born July 31, 1980." He paused for a moment, and when he saw recognition in Neville's eyes, he continued. "There was a prophecy made before we were born Neville." For the two of them, the other occupants of the room seemed to fade and the two potentials of prophecy were alone. Harry then laid it all out for Neville. Before the rising fourth year could ask any questions, Harry said, "It is definitely not you Neville." Lifting his blue tinted fringe, he said, "Marked as his equal."
Neville gave a sigh of relief and immediately felt ashamed. Attempting to sit up a bit straighter, he timidly asked, "How can I help?"
Hermione answered in a very straightforward manner. She knew about Neville's insecurities and was determined to help him overcome the bullying of his family by being as honest as she could while treating him as adult as possible. "Study as hard as you can. The Marduk is still going to keep coming for you and you need to be able to defend yourself."
Harry looked his friend in the eye. "Before you go on with that rubbish of how you're not a good wizard, I might remind you that the prophecy could have been about you. You must be a powerful wizard in your own right for that to be so. It's time to believe in yourself Neville."
Nymphadora was watching her `little brother' and smiled as the young man first frowned at Harry's words then set his jaw with a determined expression. She said to all gathered, "I'll have a talk to Scrimgeour. With Neville being a target, I'll request to be his bodyguard at school. I can morph into a fourth year and take classes with him. In our off time, we'll do a spot of training. What do you say, little bro?"
"You'd do that for me?"
Nymphadora was puzzled. "In a second. You're family."
******Potter's Redoubt, Lancashire 1100 20 August, 1994******
With a double pop-pop, Minerva and Filius apparated into the Potters' front yard. Harry was washing the car and had a good lather up all over it. Throwing the sp0nge in the bucket, he waved and welcomed their guests.
Walking over to them, he concentrated for a short moment and a small rainstorm developed over the car, washing off the suds.
Harry had to laugh at the gobsmacked expression on their faces. It isn't often that you can pull one on the perpetually prepared Professor Flitwick or the stern Professor McGonagall. He savored his small victory.
"I knew, but had never really understood. I can see how millennia ago, Elementals could be seen as gods," Flitwick murmured.
Harry just shrugged and with another thought, the storm dissipated and a brisk breeze dried the auto. "Come on in. Hermione is whipping up a luncheon for us."
Once they were settled in at the kitchen table, McGonagall asked, "We have discussed this and would like for the two of you to address us by our given names. We intend to address you two as such."
Hermione had revered Professor McGonagall all her time at Hogwarts. To be asked to be familiar with a witch whom she respected and liked so much was nigh on overwhelming. In an undertone, she said, "We would be honored."
With a lopsided grin that would have made his father proud, Harry said, "So Minerva, Filius," savoring the names, "we have a bit of news for you." He went on to explain the meeting with Neville and Nymphadora's intentions.
The elder magical beings both pursed their lips simultaneously. Flitwick shrugged and looked to his sister saying, "You'd have to run it by Albus, but I seriously doubt he'd say no."
The witch nodded in agreement, "He's so preoccupied with finding you," she nodded at Harry, "and the upcoming tournament, that this will be a mere detail. I'll fill out the paperwork and Floo Rufus directly."
"Now, the reason we are here today." McGonagall reached into her robes and withdrew a shrunken book which, when enlarged, was massive. It was definitely very old, but just how old they didn't know until it was opened.
"Is that English?" Hermione asked as she moved around the table to have a better view of the book.
"No, it's ancient Gaelic," Flitwick responded. He paused and then said, "The course of action that we intend for you two is twofold. The first that we will discuss is very dangerous. In fact, it is lethal to everyone on the planet, except yourselves."
Harry and Hermione exchanged concerned glances, "And the second?"
"Is just as dangerous."
"Great," Harry muttered.
"What do you two know about pensieves?"
"Just that they are a bowl shaped device that memories can be placed in for viewing. The viewing can be a presentation above the bowl or the viewer can immerse themselves in the memory by entering the bowl proper."
Flitwick chuckled, "Very good, Mrs. Potter. Five points to Gryffindor."
They all laughed and McGonagall picked up the thread, "The spell to remove a duplicate copy of the memory is Geminio Memoria. Normally, one actually removes the memory from their mind, leaving nothing in it's place. Filius developed this spell because one aspect of the training we will provide you is to place our memories of our learning directly into your minds."
Both the Potters gaped at the two in front of them. "You're joking."
"No, Harry. We are not." Flitwick responded in an abnormally serious tone. "We started withdrawing our memories and storing them as soon as we were notified that you two had gone Underhill. This process shall be extremely painful, but you will accumulate our…" Minerva cleared her throat, "many years of knowledge in months."
"Why doesn't everyone do this?" Hermione asked. "There must be a catch of some kind."
"There is a `catch' as you call it, Hermione." Minerva answered. "It would drive everyone else on the planet mad and eventually kill them."
Stunned, Harry asked, "Oh. So this is a good idea for us why?"
"That leads us to the second aspect of our training for you two. You do realize that the two of you are not human?"
They both nodded. It had been quite a bit to swallow when Brigid had told them many years ago in Tir na nOg, but by now they were quite used to it. Sirius had teased them unmercifully to get them out of their funk.
"Elementals are far more magical than humans. What we are going to do is `join' Runes to your body and by that to your magical core. These Runes shall strengthen and protect you not only for the assimilation of the knowledge we will impart on you, but also for your long term battle with the evil that is Lord Voldemort."
Harry sat there, unblinking. He understood what was said, but had no idea what it meant. Hermione did. She tremulously asked, "How?"
"A specially brewed ink that shall be magically tattooed on you."
Harry smiled at his wife. Hermione's interested look had shifted to a frown in a heartbeat. "So we'll look like `The Amazing Tattooed Man' at the end of this."
Flitwick had noticed Hermione's expression also. He paused before responding. Drawing out the frown on Hermione's face, he almost laughed aloud when her expression turned a bit thunderous. "No, the bonding or tattooing process shall leave the Runes quite invisible."
Sighing in relief, Hermione said, "Well, that's good. What do we need to do to prepare?"
"You shall need to gather the bulk of the ingredients for brewing the inks. We have brought enough for the first Rune joining today."
"Today?" Hermione asked in some alarm.
"Yes. The Morrigan has warned us that we don't have much time, so we must begin forthwith. Also, this Rune will help protect your mind from intrusion, as well as, easing the information assimilation process," Flitwick continued. He had a smile flickering on the edge of his mouth when he said, "We shall join the Acies Rune today. On your forehead."
Harry suppressed a chuckle at his wife's expression. "What do we need to do for this joining? Is it a ritual?
"It is a ritual, but one that Filius and I shall perform." Catching Hermione's expression, Minerva said, "Shall you be first Harry?"
"I think that'd be a good idea."
After clearing the floor in the center of the sitting room, Harry stripped off his shirt and lay on the floor. Minerva and Filius motioned Hermione back to the doorway of the room.
With a smile, Filius said, "We'll explain what we're doing as we go, don't worry."
"First we prepare the area," Minerva said as she cast two disinfecting spells on Harry's forehead. With a twitch of her lips, McGonagall said, "Don't worry, Harry. We shan't put this over your famous scar."
Harry rolled his eyes as Flitwick removed a small vial of a purple colored fluid. Conjuring a small bowl, Filius nodded to his sister who bent over Harry and began the ritual.
"The actual joining of the Rune is a ritual requiring much wand work, as well as, the anointing of the rune," Flitwick lectured as if he were in a third year Charms class.
Closing her eyes, Minerva began chanting in what must have been Gaelic. The soft chanting was accompanied by intricate wand movements over Harry's entire body. She seamlessly worked from the top of his head to his feet and back up to his head.
Harry lay there, curious as to what Minerva was saying. Filius was watching her with a nervous expression and Harry began to wonder about the dangers to their mentors. To be honest, it'd never occurred to him. Feeling a tingling sensation in his forehead cut off his musings. Strangely, the feeling began to wrap around his head to his ears.
Minerva paused in her chanting and nodded to her brother. Filius took his wand and dipped it in the ink. Tracing the Acies Rune on Harry's forehead, Flitwick intoned, "Acuo vere uiutum!"
A spike of pain shot through Harry's head, but just as soon as it was there, it was gone. He opened his eyes and saw Minerva with her hands on her knees, panting.
He caught her eye and she nodded, "Takes a bit out of a person, Harry. Don't worry." Filius handed her a vial, of which she drank the contents straight away. The steam shooting out of her ears gave away the vial's contents.
Harry tried to sit up but was held down by Flitwick.
"You'll be feeling a bit off for a while. I'll just get you to the sofa for a bit."
Once on the sofa, Harry tried to sit up but was overcome by waves of dizziness. Minerva and Filius were watching over him while Hermione held his hand. He didn't understand why they looked so worried. He didn't realize how pale he was nor the sweat that was pouring off him in buckets. The dizziness began to subside and he sat up a little, resting on a pillow.
"You Ok?" Hermione asked.
"Better. It really did throw me for a loop. I'll be fine in a few minutes." McGonagall handed Harry a headache relief potion which he gratefully downed.
After a few minutes, Harry felt his head clear and he could sit up with no dizziness. "Still feel a little weak, though."
"That is normal, Harry," Minerva counseled. "This is one of the easiest Runes to join. Expect unconsciousness for some of the others.
"Wonderful."
Hermione had run upstairs and changed into one of Harry's old t-shirts. She looked their guides in the eye and asked, "Shall we then?"
******Quidditch World Cup, 2335 25 August, 1994******
"Those guys were real brave, eh Dad?"
The sarcasm in Bill Weasley's voice was not lost on his father. As Charlie made and pressed a makeshift bandage against his older brother's wounded upper arm, Arthur looked on and said, "They're nothing but bullies and we all know bullies are cowards."
"There, that'll do it Billy. Come on you pussy, up you go," Charlie cajoled his brother as he finished a temporary bandage made of his own shirt and belt. "Come on, or the ladies will think you're a poofter."
Bill smiled at his brother. They'd always been close and of the entire Weasley Clan, he'd missed Charlie the most when he moved to Egypt; even more than his parents.
"Thanks, man."
Charlie smiled with real affection, "Anytime, bro."
Arthur watched the interaction between his sons and smiled. They'd always been good, solid, dependable lads and they'd grown up to be good men. It had made him proud of his boys to see them standing toe to toe with those masked bastards earlier in the evening. Charlie almost cut one in half with a vicious Cutting curse and Bill had hexed one so badly the bastard had to be portkeyed away by his loathsome compatriots.
Bill shook his head to clear it. He watched his dad stand there so tall and silent, so much like the heroic `everyman' he'd read about in muggle novels. It brought tears to his eyes and he was never so proud to be a Weasley in his entire life. Wobbling a bit, Charlie caught him and said, "Dad, let's get back before Bill takes a spill."
Arthur nodded and they began wending their way back through the ruination of the surrounding campsites. Some were fully involved blazes while others were merely smoking skeletons.
"You think Mum'll do her nut?" Bill asked his brother.
"Five Galleons says her face is purple by the time she's done ranting," replied Charlie with a smile.
"Nah, she'll do the `Arthur! Talk to your children' bit and stomp out to the garden."
Arthur cleared his throat and his sons waited for a mild reprimand. "Five says she's so relieved we're all safe that her only ranting is that we're all alright. The twins will get the most hugs because she yelled at them before we left."
Bill looked at Charlie, astounded. It was the first time that their father had really treated them as equals. Charlie merely smiled and said, "Done."
The three Weasley men laughed and made their way back to the campsite. In front of the tent, Arthur said, "Bill, you wait here in case the younger one's come back. Charlie you go that way," he pointed northeast, "and I'll go this way," he pointed southeast. Apparate back here every fifteen minutes to see if they've returned. Despite the chaos, Percy should have kept them in control." Bill looked at his father askance and Arthur smiled. He jokingly amended his statement. "Well, maybe they're alive."
With light laughter all around, Bill went inside to sit down while his brother and father went off in the night.
Ten minutes later, Arthur was working his way down his path when he heard screaming up ahead. It wasn't the panicked screaming from before. These people were screaming in terror. Bloodcurdling terror. Four forms came pelting out of the woods and almost bowled him over.
"Dad! Dad! You've got to help Ron!" screamed Ginny. The twins were near to hyperventilating and Percy was bleeding freely from his scalp. His entire face shone a glistening red in the moonlight.
Confused and very scared now, he asked, "What is it and where is he?"
George pointed back the way they'd come and said, "Vampires! They cracked Percy in the head and grabbed Ron. We ran…"
"Dear God." Before his thoughts were complete he was running up the path. His son was in mortal danger and nothing else mattered. He spun about and yelled to his remaining children, "Get back to the tent! Bill is there and he'll know how to get a hold of Charlie! Run, and don't look back!" He gave a satisfied nod when they all took off in the direction of the campgrounds.
He entered the tree line and saw five persons around a sixth. The sixth was obviously Ron, his ginger hair stood out
like a beacon. Arthur bellowed and drew his wand. Before he could even blink, the Vampires had turned toward Arthur and
one had launched himself through the air at him.
Reflexively, Arthur shouted, "INCENDIO!" Fire engulfed the demi-demon and it burst into a conflagration that lit the woods. Shocked and emboldened at his success, Arthur looked to the others who hadn't moved.
A silver haired vampire stood forth and said, "By your hair and…enthusiasm, I would say you are probably the father of this." He indicated Ron's nearly dead body.
Numb, Arthur stared at his son. "No. Not Ron."
"Oh, yes," the silver haired vampire resp0nded. "He put up a pitiful fight, but in the end he was ours. Quite tasty." With a hard glint in his eyes, he continued, "Since you have deprived me of one of mine, I do believe I shall take this one," he pointed to Ron, "to take Stefan's place." He nodded to the tall Vampire who held Ron.
Raising his wrist to his mouth, the tall Vampire bit into the vein and put it to Ron's mouth. After a long moment, the teen began to slurp reflexively. With no warning, Ron convulsed and suddenly grasped the wrist, pushing it deep into his own mouth.
Arthur looked on, paralyzed in his grief. Tears ran down his face as he watched in fascinated horror. Finally, he couldn't take it and Arthur broke down, fell to his knees and sobbed for his son.
The tall vampire pulled his arm away from what had once bee Ronald Weasley and nodded to the silver haired Vampire. The silver haired one, turned back to Arthur and with malice said, "We will bid you good even then sir." The four Vampires supporting their fledgling turned to walk away. The silver haired one snapped his fingers in remembrance and turned back to the now prostrate Arthur Weasley, "Oh, if you ever see your son again, run away. Run away very fast."
******Delacour Estates, Cote d'Azur, France 0800, 27 August, 1994******
Fleur Delacour set the International Wizarding Times down on the breakfast table, her expression concerned. Henri, her father, noticed and asked, "What is bothering you, ma petite?"
The half-Veela indicated the newspaper and replied, "I have been reading about the Vampire attack in Britain. Their government is reacting very harshly to all non-human magical beings."
Henri set his coffee down. He was the French Minister of Foreign Affairs and was intimately familiar with what his daughter was discussing. Glancing along the length of the table at his wife, Marie, he prompted, "Yes, and your thoughts?"
"With the tournament this year, will it be safe for me to go to Britain?"
Henri leaned back in his chair and sent his wife a look. They'd had this same discussion the day before and had concluded what he was about to lay out to his daughter. "Safe? Yes, undoubtedly. Albus Dumbledore may be many things, but a fool he is not. I hate to say this, but he would never allow a daughter of mine to be treated badly."
He sighed. Henri never liked trading on his position in government. Working up from the clerk level in the communication office for the foreign ministry, he'd done very well for himself and his family based on hard work alone. He was actually a half-breed, which worked against him in the bigoted wizarding society of France. To his shame, he hid his parentage for many years of his career.
"Will the stay in Britain be pleasant, though?" He continued. "Of that, I have no doubt that it would be unpleasant. Taunting, harsh words and the like cannot be outlawed."
Fleur's beautiful face frowned. His mother was a full-blooded Veela. He obviously didn't inherit the allure nor the incredible good looks, but he did inherit the temper, as did his daughters. Even Gabrielle, who was fourteen, could rant and rave with the best of them.
"I have been dealing with harsh words my entire life Papa. I do understand your meaning in that the words will be much harsher, yes?"
He didn't reply with words, merely nodded. After a long moment, Marie spoke up, "It is your decision, Cherie. Your father and I will support whatever you decide. You have proven yourself responsible. We also know how hard you have studied and trained for the Tournament."
"A moderately bad situation can become much worse very quickly, though."
Henri nodded again at his daughter's observation. "That is very true, ma petite. If you decide to go, I will ensure that you have a portkey home available to you at all times. A necklace or something of the like that you can always have on your person."
Fleur nodded absently. Rising, she said, "Breakfast was wonderful, Mama. I will consider the decision. Perhaps tomorrow it will be clearer."
******Amsterdam, Netherlands 1345 28 August, 1994*******
He was pacing in the library when she joined him. Settling on a couch she regarded her husband with a serious expression.
"Well, dear, have you come to a conclusion?" the brunette woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties asked.
"I think I have. Albus will not deviate from his course and if what we know of him is true, it bodes ill for young Potter." He was a sandy-blond of about the same age.
She nodded and gazed about the house. "I was hoping that you'd come to the same conclusion as I have. It is so very tiresome when we disagree. Shall we pack?"
Nodding, her husband answered, "Yes, I believe we shall. I think we can help."
******Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office 1100 30 August, 1994******
Albus Dumbledore was frantic. Harry Potter might as well have jumped in a hole and pulled it in after him. Auror Dawlish still came to his office daily, but the word had been the same since mid July; "Nothing new, sir."
Scrying didn't work.
Tracking post owls didn't work.
The numerous tracking charms he'd placed on the boy over this years didn't work.
The Ministry sensors didn't pick up any underage magic use.
The Potter heir wasn't dead, though. He did know that much. The little silver trinket in the corner of his office kept puffing along steadily showing a healthy life force for Harry Potter. The small vial of Harry's blood that he'd taken so long ago drove the device and it was infallible. "Damn," he muttered under his breath.
The staff was beginning to notice his odd behavior. Minerva asked him at least twice a day if she could help him. So too did Filius, but he had smiled and waved them off kindly.
He did have a real affection for most of his staff, even Severus, cranky bastard that he was. They could never know the responsibility he had, though. Headmaster, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump and Leader of the Light. No, they would never be able to understand his responsibilities nor his duty.
Harry Potter was needed. Harry Potter was the keystone to the survival and prosperity of wizarding Britain - possibly even wizarding Europe. If Albus lost the lad, the results would be horrific. The aged man knew that Voldemort was going to return; no one sells their soul to the devil for a free pass and declines to use it. After the second prophecy late last term, it merely solidified what he had strongly suspected for many years about the inevitability of Tom Riddle rising again.
His pacing slowed which was a sure sign of his agitation. Fawkes was gone, he knew that now. He had felt the severing of the familiar bond when he'd sent the Phoenix after Harry, but hadn't been sure. When the Firebird hadn't returned, he knew for sure. What did this say about him, though? For a few days, self-doubt crept into his musings. Am I on the path of the Light? Am I doing what's best? Finally, he'd ruthlessly suppressed the thoughts, being a master Occlumens had some positive side effects. The doubts had no place and were merely distracting him from progress. The answer was right in front of him, he knew it. He just couldn't see it and it infuriated him.
So many looked to him for answers for so long and he usually had what they wanted. His massive intellect combined with quick wit enabled him to match his significant magical power and become one of the foremost wizards on the planet. Who else would be entrusted with so much?
Harry Potter.
"Damn!" He was a good, pliable lad. Under Molly Weasley's roof he would become even more biddable, which was good given the boy's destiny. He knew Molly had designs on her daughter and Harry. To be perfectly honest, he didn't give a damn about all that, so long as the boy was ready when the time came.
Granger was a nice enough girl. Impressive intellect and with the right guidance could become a giant of their society surpassing even himself in his academic achievements. He smiled to himself, But not on the battlefield. Shaking off the random thought, he dismissed her as irrelevant to the larger scheme.
He would bend the boy to his will. It was needful that it be this way. In his quieter moments, he wished that it needn't be so, but wishes were irrelevant. The survival of magical - no magical and mundane Britain was at stake. Wishes were not relevant at all.
******Hogwarts, Transfiguration Professor's Office 1630 31 August, 1994******
The late afternoon sun was angling into the windows of her office as Minerva McGonagall leaned back in her chair. She was exhausted like she hadn't been for decades. After joining Acies on the 20th, they'd joined Aspectus to enhance vision and then Auditio to enhance their hearing on the 25th. The combination of Runes had left both Potters asleep for two days and Minerva and Filius drained of their magic for three.
Filius had taken the first watch over their charges while she slept in the guest bedroom. Thankful that they'd completed all their start of term parchment work ahead of time, they spent three peaceful days at Potter's Redoubt.
After sleeping a good eight hours, she was shaken awake by her brother. "I can't stay up any longer Min. They're sleeping well and all vital signs are healthy."
Nodding, she rose and performed her morning ablutions while he dropped into the land of dreams, watched over by Brigid with a smile and an expression of approval.
Making a light meal in the kitchen, she checked on their charges. Even in their sleep they projected power, it made her feel heady for the future. They might be able to…
Shaking her head, she wandered outside for a bit of fresh air. Ambling around the house to the back she froze. Ten feet in front of her was an enormous Golden Griffin. He tilted his head first one way then the next to get a good view of her. Satisfied, he gave a call that sounded like a roaring screech. "A mix of lion and eagle in all aspects," she mused.
"You must be Lord Nemeas." Curtseying deeply, she said in a stiff, formal tone, "I am honored to meet you."
The Griffin nodded imperiously, looked to the house and back to her. Catching the intent, Minerva explained to Nemeas what had happened to the Potters. "All is well with them. They merely need to rest after the ritual."
A ball of flame appeared next to Nemeas and Fawkes appeared, a sprig of Myrrh in his beak. He circled the garden and then flew in the house via an open window. Her curiosity got the best of her and she entered the house after addressing the Griffin, "I take my leave."
In the Potters bedroom, she found Fawkes slowly eating the Myrrh while perched on a golden stand. After his meal, the Phoenix slowly began to sing. The power, beauty and majesty of the song gathered in her breast, threatening to break her apart with its terrible power.
The song swelled and rose. Dipping and falling the Phoenix sang a song of the love of a man and a woman; their dedication to each other. He sang of the joy of duty fulfilled faithfully and of the love of a parent for their child. Minerva watched the expressions of the Potters ease into a half smile while her own heart soared.
Closing her eyes, she sat and immersed herself in the beauty and ethereal charisma of the Phoenix. From outside, she felt the power and loyalty of the Griffin as a palpable presence. In her mind's eye, she could see Nemeas rear back on his hindquarters, give his distinct roar and take to the skies.
A hand on her shoulder alerted her to Filius' presence. She reflected upon her brother and smiled. It was nice to have someone who knew about their true relation. Before, they couldn't really let their guard down and be themselves. In private they could speak somewhat freely, but there had been a reservation in case of an unexpected knock or Floo call. With her eyes closed, she mumbled, "I swear, if he calls me Minnie one more time, though…"
Returning to the present, Minerva rubbed her temples and sighed. She needed to talk to Albus about her and Filius' `new' apprentices. Hopefully it wouldn't be an issue and she could escape without even saying their names. If he pressed though, it could get ugly.
"Once more into the breach…" She heaved herself out of her chair and headed for Albus' office.
.oO0.
"Enter," the Headmaster called out in a distracted tone.
Minerva entered the office to see the man literally up to his elbows in parchment. Surprised, she paused and he looked up. "Administration of two major governments and a large school catch up after a while." He shook his head and grumbled, "I'd hoped to be caught up by now."
Approaching his desk, she conjured her trademark, no-nonsense, straight backed chair. After sitting, Dumbledore grumbled a few more times about the mountains of forms, reports and minutiae on his desk and asked, "What can I do for you this fine day Professor McGonagall?"
She saw him surreptitiously pick another report and begin reading it while feigning interest in her. Hiding a smile she said in a blasé tone, "I just thought to inform you that Filius and I will be taking on apprentices this year who will be housed in the castle."
He stopped reading and looked directly at her. "Oh, really?"
Minerva nodded and sighed. "Nothing serious, just for a year until they move on. Similar to the situation I had with Smithers a few years back."
Dumbledore nodded and resumed his reading, "Yes. He was a decent lad. Developed the manufacturing process for charmed quills if I remember correctly."
"Yes. Quite imaginative it was. When he worked with me I admit that I didn't have very high hopes for him but it turned out alright in the end." She eyed her supervisor with a suspicious eye. The more he lay back in the grass made her more apprehensive she became. So far, he seemed entirely disinterested, though.
When he didn't respond, she stood, dispelled her conjured chair and said, "I'll see you tomorrow."
He nodded in response and gave an absent minded wave of his hand.
As she walked out, Minerva smiled. Tomorrow would be quite interesting indeed.
A/N
1. I own nothing
2. Acies: (latin) n: mind. Acuo vere uiutum (latin): sharpen the mind. I must admit that I am stealing the rune joining idea from Perspicacity and the excellent fic "Dagger and Rose." It's a HP/FD fic that is heart wrenchingly good. I can only read it every so often else I'll be in tears all the time. Not very manly, you see. ;)
3. Brigid is not only the goddess of fire, but also lofty pursuits and efforts of the mind (like dreams). In the Greek Pantheon, she would be comparable to Athena in importance and the varied nature of her responsibilities and in the Roman - Minerva.
4. Short chapter, I know. I wanted to cut it off before school started back up, else it would have been huge. More movers and shakers introduced here and some hinting at the future.
5. Yes, Nemeas is named for the Nemean Lion which Heracles slew in his first labor.
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