lomonaaeren

Theo pauses and raises his eyebrows. He was scheduled to Floo to Harry’s so they could keep working on a strategy to tackle the Greatness-Seekers, but he seems to have interrupted an argument.

“I don’t see why I need to.”

“Do you want more opportunities in life?”

“What opportunities am I going to have if we can’t get this Horcrux out of me?”

Theo winces in the ominous silence that follows. He’s noticed Harry has been blunter since the ritual when he burned his reluctance to become a lord, but this is the first time that he’s really heard Harry distressing someone else with it.

“You do not mean that.” Severus’s voice is trembling a little.

There’s a sigh that makes Theo glad he’s only hearing them from around the corner, instead of watching them. “No, probably not. But I do think that it’s kind of silly to sit my OWLS again for a bunch of classes that I have no interest in taking. I mean, who needs Astronomy?”

“Diviners, ritual specialists, those who plot the course of—”

“Which isn’t me.”

“What do you see yourself doing after Hogwarts, Harry?”

Theo leans his shoulder against the wall, shamelessly eavesdropping. Despite the potential awkwardness, he is in fact glad that he came early, or Harry lost track of time, and he gets to hear this. He would feel more awkward asking Harry about this directly, but he wants to know.

Harry pauses for a long enough moment that Theo thinks he remembered Theo was supposed to come over, or maybe remembered hearing the Floo. But then Harry exhales and says, “I see myself working to make the world a better place.”

“By being a lord?”

“That, and fighting for people who need help. Muggleborns, werewolves, goblins, people who have rumors spread about them and can never get a Ministry job because of it—”

“That is oddly specific.”

“Daphne told me that one of her ancestors supposedly did something bad, but what it was, nobody actually knows. She thinks it’s just that someone jealous made up a rumor about that ancestor. She could never get a job in the Ministry.”

“I believe that Miss Greengrass’s aunt is on the Wizengamot.”

“That’s not technically in the Ministry, it’s in a judicial body that’s attached to the Ministry. And I was talking about the ancestor, not Daphne.”

Theo claps his hand across his mouth and closes his eyes as he shakes with laughter.

“Very well, Harry. But in the meantime, I insist that you resit and pass the OWL for Astronomy. And that you do the same with the OWLS for History of Magic, Charms, and Herbology. I am glad that you did well enough on the others, but you could also sit them again and replace those Acceptables with higher marks.”

“But why do they matter?”

“Do you believe that you will simply be a lord who is above such minor matters as good marks?”

“No, but I do think that I’m not going to win the war by asking Voldemort about the properties of Mandrakes or what constellation he was born under.”

Theo smiles. He will have to sit two of his exams again as well, given the chaos in his mind until almost the end of the term, but it is two rather than four. Harry’s dismissive attitude both makes Theo admire him and makes him agree with Professor Snape. Harry should strive to do better than he did.

Not because it will necessarily increase his chances in the war against Voldemort, but because Harry will hopefully have a life after the war and Voldemort.

“You will sit the exams again, Harry.”

A pause, during which Theo can perfectly imagine the mulish expression on Harry’s face as he stares at Professor Snape, and then the head-toss that accompanies his snort, as if he’s a half-wild thestral.

“Fine.”

“My thanks.”

Since the conversation seems to be over, Theo clears his throat ostentatiously and walks into the dining room. Harry turns to face him, his cheeks becoming red for a second. He probably knows that Theo overheard.

Professor Snape looks like he couldn’t care less if Theo overheard.

“You wanted to talk about the Greatness-Seekers, my lord?”

Harry nods. “I wanted to know if we could identify individuals and appeal to one of them by name.”

Theo cocks his head. That’s not what he thought they would be discussing. “It might be possible, my lord, but I’m not sure why you would want to?”

“Because I think I might be able to play them one against the other.”

“Legend says that the Greatness-Seekers can see the thoughts in your head as well as the most skilled Legilimens, my lord. Merely having the thought will practically guarantee that it won’t work.”

Harry gives a jerky shrug. “But if we offer them a good enough bargain, then it would appeal to one of them, surely?”

“What do you plan on offering?” Professor Snape asks, his voice smoother and deeper than it was when he was reprimanding Harry about his marks. Theo would take that as a warning sign when it comes to Snape speaking with Slytherins as a Head of House, but Harry either knows something different or ignores the warning.

“Whatever I can that I’m able to sacrifice.”

“You promised me.”

Theo isn’t sure what Snape is talking about, but from the way Harry’s face pales and his eyes dart towards the floor, he does take this promise seriously, whatever it is.

“Yes,” Harry says, nearly soundlessly. “I understand. I won’t put my sanity or my freedom or my life on the line.”

“Or your magic.”

“Why would I do that?”

Theo nearly laughs again, but refrains. He doesn’t think Snape would share his amusement that Harry thinks he would be able to accomplish his goals if he were insane, imprisoned, or dead, but not without magic.

Snape’s eye twitches as if he knows what Theo is thinking and doesn’t want to share the thought. He turns away with a heavy swing of his cloak. “You promised, and you will include some studying in your attempts to trick these great beings,” he says blandly.

The door slams shut behind him.

Harry snorts and turns to Theo. Theo relaxes a little at the expression in Harry’s eyes. He’s glad that Harry didn’t react badly to Snape’s scolding, the way he would have once.

“I suppose we have to do some studying for Astronomy,” he says. “At least, if you want to start with that one?”

“It’s fine with me, my lord. But why that one in particular?”

“It’s the most boring one, so we should do it before I lose the will to live.”

Harry’s eyes are sparkling, and for the first time since the night of Harry’s birthday when he swore the oath, Theo feels something down the vassal bond. Harry’s humor is dancing like sunlight, pierced and striped through with joy.

Truly, Harry shed something heavy forever the night that he burned his reluctance to be a lord.

“We can begin that way,” Theo agrees. “And who knows? We might find something along the way that does apply to the real goal we’re pursuing.”

“I don’t think so.”

But Harry is still smiling, and the joy is still flooding the vassal bond, and Theo is more than content to sit down to a study of Astronomy, whether or not it will ever be “productive” in the way that Harry wants.

He would be content to keep feeling this joy for the rest of his life.

*

“Having a vassal bond is—different.”

Blaise nods absently in response to Daphne’s words. He came over to visit her rather than Harry, but Harry only shrugged when Blaise told him that as if he didn’t particularly care. And Blaise supposes he doesn’t. Harry would care if Blaise betrayed him, but he would feel the disloyalty through that vassal bond.

The very thing Daphne wants to discuss.

“Blaise? You look as though you aren’t paying attention to me.”

Blaise swallows and puts down his teacup, turning his gaze away from the window that he was staring out blindly. “I’m concerned.”

“About what? Something to do with Harry and the vassal bonds? Professor Snape?”

“No. I’m much more concerned about the fact that I can’t believe my mother has given up on getting vengeance on me, but I haven’t got any letters from her for months. Almost a year. And it’s not just being behind wards. I know it’s more than that.”

Blaise can see Daphne’s start from where he sits. He smiles bitterly, again turning to stare out the window, and wonder where the owls are that his mother should have sent him. At least he can say that he startled Daphne, who prides herself on her composure.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Daphne says, and Blaise doesn’t laugh, but it’s an effort. Of course she hasn’t thought about that. No one did, except for Blaise himself. “Have you—talked to Professor Snape about this?”

“He’s been busy with Harry.”

“He would want to know.”

Blaise turns over the idea in his head, and finally can admit that Daphne is probably right. Professor Snape has been understandably preoccupied with the mad genius who’s his ward and did something unprecedented in the history of magic, but he offered the shelter of his house to protect Blaise. There’s no reason to think he would turn him out or be uninterested in his circumstances.

It’s simply that…

“I don’t understand where she’s gone,” Blaise whispers, and that he’s confessing this to Daphne instead of Harry or Theo makes a weird sort of sense. It’s not something that he would want to tell someone who really matters a lot to him if he’s wrong about it. Daphne is a friend, yes, but a friend rather than a confidant or his lord. “She’s absented herself so completely. I’m afraid of what that means, if it affects the kind of vengeance she’s seeking.”

“And it might mean that you can’t handle it?”

Blaise nods, tightly. Having someone else speak the truth he most fears isn’t the same thing as doing it himself, he thinks. It’s not the same kind of weakness.

“Well.” Daphne shifts around in her chair, and then abruptly stands up and comes over to stand beside him, so that Blaise is looking at her reflection in the window beside his own. “I don’t think that we can know for sure, but I also think that your mother won’t know what hit her by the time that you’re ready to take your own vengeance.”

“I wish you were right.”

“Of course I am.”

Blaise shakes his head, but says nothing. Daphne doesn’t know his mother like he does, which somewhat mocks the idea of asking for comfort from someone else in the first place.

Daphne studies him, then sighs. “We can talk about something else if you want.”

Blaise is glad enough to do so, but he can’t stop his glances at the window. He doesn’t literally believe the danger is outside them, that he would suddenly see his mother looming there if his glances were only quick enough.

It’s more that the window looks out on the world where he believes Mother’s vengeance is gathering like an ocean wave, ready to come towards him.

Waiting.

*

“And how do the moons of Jupiter influence the rituals performed at that time?” Hermione asks, staring intently at Professor Snape’s notes in front of her. She did well enough on the OWLS—although only an Exceeds Expectations in Defense—but she wishes she had had these notes when she was revising.

“I don’t give a fuck.”

Hermione jerks her head up from the notes and stares at Harry with her jaw hanging. Yes, she knew he didn’t like revising, but this is—incredibly far from the reaction she thought she would get when she started asking him questions. “Harry!”

“Seriously, Hermione.” Harry rolls over from where he’s been draped down the couch while he answered questions about the material she wanted to quiz him on. Hermione allowed it because she thought he was more likely to actually answer them that way. “Why do I have to know about the moons of Jupiter? How are they going to influence my future?”

“If you believe in Astronomy, the stars have influence on all we do!”

“I know you don’t, either.”

Hermione doesn’t, really. It sounds too much like Muggle astrology, which she was fascinated with when she was seven and studied in depth—only to be disappointed when it did nothing. But she says primly, “All the greatest Astronomy minds agree that it’s different for magical people.”

“All the greatest Astronomy minds. Well, they would want to promote the importance of their subject, wouldn’t they?”

Hermione blinks a little. “I—didn’t expect you to be this cynical, Harry.”

Harry rolls back around and leans his cheek on his arm, sighing. “I suppose that I just don’t see the purpose of studying most of this stuff when it won’t help me defeat Voldemort.”

“But what about after the war?”

“If I’m there, do you think that I’m going to be in the mood to study Astronomy, Hermione?”

Hermione starts to answer, and then narrows her eyes. “No, you can’t distract me from the more important thing you just said. What do you mean, if you’re there?”

Harry looks at her with shimmering eyes that are, yes, cynical, and resolutely adult. “I mean that I might die in the war, so surviving it has to be my first priority. And even if I survive, there’s the Horcrux. What if the person who survives is me, but is being overtaken by the Horcrux? I have to prioritize studying that, too.”

“I,” Hermione says, and licks her lips. “I didn’t think about that. Are you going to study Dark Arts?”

“Maybe after this summer and Severus’s ridiculous demands.” Harry rolls his eyes in a way that simultaneously makes Hermione think he won’t ever be overtaken by Voldemort’s Horcrux and that makes her dread what will happen if he is. “But in truth, I think that the answer’s going to be found elsewhere.”

“Where?”

Harry doesn’t answer.

Hermione resists the urge to stomp her foot. That’s childish, and more to the point, it won’t get her what she wants, which is an answer. “Harry James Potter. Tell me what you’re planning right now!”

Harry only smiles faintly at her when she says his full name, but it does get her an answer. “The Potter Gift.”

“In death?”

Harry nods, looking at the far wall. Hermione is sure that he isn’t really seeing it, of course, or the enchanted window that sits there right now. “It’s so much more powerful than I realized. It can change Patronuses, which are supposed to be some of the strongest magic a wizard can cast. What else can it do?”

“Are you going to be studying it by yourself?”

“No. The Speakers have promised to help me, and even Daphne, who has some books on death magic that she thinks she can get from an ancestral vault.” Harry smiles at her then. “And you, of course.”

“Yes. I’d love to.”

“This does not sound like Astronomy.”

Hermione can feel her face turning hot as she sees Professor Snape standing in the doorway with his arms folded. She scrambles to gather up the books spread in front of her. “Sorry, Professor Snape! We were just—”

“Talking about the Horcrux, and reality,” Harry says, and locks stares with Severus in a way that makes Hermione have to look away, uncomfortable. It just doesn’t feel like something she should see.

“Astronomy comes first,” Snape says at last, in a voice that makes Hermione wish she wasn’t in the room. When she looks back at the doorway, he’s gone, at least.

“Ready for Astronomy, Hermione?”

Hermione turns back to Harry and nods. If they both know that she’s agreeing to a lot more than just Astronomy study, well, Professor Snape probably knows that, too, but they’ll interact this way for now.

Hermione will start studying the things he asked her to study.

And make sure that Harry can survive both this war and the Horcrux.

*

Harry went to sleep grumbling to himself about the necessity of studying Astronomy, so he’s more peeved than he would have been otherwise to wake up in the shifting white mist that signals the Greatness-Seeker wants to talk to him. He sighs and folds his arms, not moving. “What do you want?”

The mist trembles and grows glassy. A soft, thundering voice like a lesser version of the one that the Greatness-Seeker has been using so far says, “I wanted to show you a vision of the future. Consider it a gift.”

“No vision of the future is a gift—”

The surface of the mist in front of him boils and turns red and black. Harry steps forwards in spite of himself, curious what the Greatness-Seeker thinks it can show him to manipulate him.

It’s a battlefield. At Hogwarts.

Trees crack and fall in the Forbidden Forest as giants march on the school. There’s a pack of werewolves, somehow changed even though it’s daylight in the vision, running and howling as they bring down a group of screaming students trying to fight back-to-back. Professor McGonagall is marching a troop of knightly armor into battle, but she’s killed almost instantly when a giant fireball lands on her.

The Death Eaters are crowding in behind the giants and the werewolves, laughing. And Voldemort is behind all of them, in a body even more grotesque than the one he formed the first time with Lucius Malfoy’s help. It’s shining white as stone, riven with moving veins of sickly green, and the wand in his hand blazes with the same color as he casts Killing Curse after Killing Curse.

Harry watches Hermione die, and Ron, and Theo, and Severus, before he finally snaps, “Enough!”

The vision fades at once, and the mist coalesces into the shape of a chimera—or a creature like a chimera. Lion’s head and body, eagle wings, snake tail, and a badger’s head in the middle of its back. It watches him and says nothing.

“Why would I let them just die like that?”

“In this vision, you are already dead.”

“What? How did I die?”

“You met Voldemort’s Killing Curse. That is the only way to be rid of the Horcrux in you. Nothing else will remove a living Horcrux.”

Harry stares silently at the misty creature. It continues to look back at him. Theo’s book said that the Greatness-Seekers are patient, cold, linked to their unfathomable game but not even caring that much about that. Harry can see what that book means.

He clears his throat. “Why did you show me this? Why tell me this?”

“Because we can offer you something that would allow you to avoid that fate.”

“Something.”

“You might call it a weapon. In truth, it is not. But you will have to decide for yourself whether you want it.”

Harry has already made this decision, in a deep part of himself, even though he had no idea what might be required to remove the Horcrux until the Greatness-Seeker spoke to him. (Not that he necessarily believes it’s telling the truth). He wants to survive the war, because of how his death would hurt everyone around him. But he accepts that he might not.

Taking gifts from mysterious beings with powers and origins from beyond the world is not part of that.

“No.”

There is silence for a long moment, such echoing silence that he wonders if the Greatness-Seeker will try to interrupt him. Then the creature hisses, drawing in enough breath, or what passes for breath in this place, that Harry feels his hair fly forwards around his face.

“What?”

“I said no.”

The Greatness-Seeker prowls a step closer. Harry continues to watch it. He knows they have immense power, but he also thinks that he’s as safe as he can be, behind the wards of home. There is a reason that the creature has come to him in his dreams and not the waking world, he thinks. And he’s going to take advantage of that.

“You have no idea what you refuse,” the creature whispers. “I granted power to those who founded Hogwarts. We have made countless offers to wizards and witches down the years, and all but two have been accepted. Will you be the third to refuse?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

“You have no idea what you refuse.”

“Yes, and you haven’t explained it. There has to be a price for this kind of power, but you didn’t offer to explain that, either. You didn’t offer based on a relationship years in the building. You showed up out of nowhere and offered this to me. This—gift.” Harry doesn’t bother to disguise the derision in his voice. “Pardon me for being suspicious of you, of the things you haven’t explained, of the forms you have assumed.”

The Greatness-Seeker watches him. All hint of anger, or any emotion, has faded out of its bearing. It has sprouted two other heads, though, eagle and serpent, to watch him.

“Your foe has already accepted aid from us,” the Greatness-Seeker says at last. “I sought only to balance the scales, to make the game more fair—”

“It’s a game for you, but not for me.”

The Greatness-Seeker bares all its teeth and wisps away into pearly mist. Only its voice lingers behind, or voices, all of which sound like four that slightly overlap each other.

“You will regret this.”

Harry opens his eyes in his own bed, and gives a hard smile at the ceiling. Maybe he will regret this, but he’s pretty sure that he would regret accepting the Greatness-Seeker’s offer more. And in the meantime, he has a possible direction for research that Theo and Hermione might take.

Not necessarily the real one. The Greatness-Seeker might have lied about a Killing Curse being the only thing that can kill a living Horcrux.

But if not…

Then Harry is going to look into it, and do his own research, and prepare to die if necessary. But only if necessary.