Are you sure you're ready for this?"
Harry took a deep breath and nodded.
His time at Hogwarts would be at an end in only a few short weeks,
and he had prepared as much as he possibly could for this moment.
Under the supervision of Professor McGonagall, he had been
working on completing his final transformation for months, and now,
it was time for the final product.
He was nervous, that he wouldn't deny.
The beast within him was not yet tame, and he knew it would be a
struggle to seize control of the instincts that would flood him.
That was why he had insisted on being placed in a cage, just in case
he was unable to do so.
"Will there be changes when I'm in my human form?" he asked
curiously.
Professor McGonagall frowned thoughtfully before nodding.
"It is likely," she replied. "For me, my hearing and sense of smell
increased considerably, and I expect it will be the same for you, but I
used to struggle to ignore the instinct to chase things, or attack fish
that are kept in tanks."
Harry laughed amusedly.
"Do you also get the urge to lick yourself and sunbathe?"
Professor McGonagall raised a brow in his direction.
"That is enough questions, Potter," she sighed. "Get in the cage."
With a smirk, Harry did so, and the nervousness he had been feeling
the past days leading up to this evening set in once more.
When he was inside, Professor McGonagall locked the door behind
him and offered a nod of encouragement.
"You must immerse yourself. Allow the creature within to take over
before you attempt to bring it to heel."
Harry swallowed deeply as he took a seat and closed his eyes,
seeking what it was that he could feel wanting to escape the
confines of his mind, the beast he had been fighting to keep at bay
as it grew stronger the more familiar he became with it.
The rawness of the magic was what he felt first, the heavy yet pure
nature of it overwhelming his senses as he allowed it to wash over
him completely for the first time.
It was an odd sensation as the differing emotions to his own became
present, the curiosity, the hunger, the cautiousness and selfassuredness.
He was a predator, a beast that stalked the apex, an animal who
possessed few natural enemies.
The emotions became stronger as his inner beast slowly but surely
emerged into his consciousness, and Harry allowed it to do so,
feeling his body shift the more his own mind was pulled away until he
felt that he was trapped.
Now was the time for them to become one.
In a sudden attack, he flooded his mind with his own feelings, his
own emotions, and he felt a strong resistance pushing him back.
At once, he wished to both flee and fight, the conflicting instincts
resulting in a struggle for power, and the sounds of snarling and
growling filled the room.
The animal did not wish to submit to his will, yet Harry's was so
exceptionally strong.
Back and forth they went, each pushing the other to their limits until
there was a sudden calmness, the conflict ending just as quickly as it
had begun with the animal finally conceding defeat.
Harry was tired and his body ached, but he somehow managed to
muster enough energy to open his eyes where he found himself
imprisoned in a large, barred box.
He didn't like being closed in.
His kind should be free to roam, to hunt, and take some land for
themselves where they would reign supreme.
No, he should not be trapped, and he did not appreciate the way the
funny creature was watching.
Although he was exhausted, he managed a low growl of warning.
The creature was undeterred by his efforts and crouched next to the
cage and began making her own noises.
At first, he could not comprehend them, but the more she did it, the
more it began to make sense, and after a few moments, she spoke
something that resonated with him.
"Potter?"
It was a familiar sound, and upon hearing it, he felt his mind flooded
with different instincts that he did not know or understand, or did he?
He did.
Potter was his name, and although he knew he was not a human, he
was at the same time.
Acknowledging that fact only made it more real, and he found that he
remembered the woman who was speaking to him.
She had helped him escape from his inner prison and was no foe of
his.
He whimpered apologetically, the woman smiled, and he felt his thick
tail beating rhythmically against the hard floor.
"Are you done?" she asked him.
He nodded and she laughed heartily.
"Congratulations, Mr Potter, you do make for a fine creature."
Harry watched as Professor McGonagall conjured a mirror and
placed it in front of the cage, and he stood to take in his reflection.
His coat was long, black, and shaggy, his bright green eyes in stark
contrast to this.
What caught his attention most, however, was the viciously sharp
claws at the end of his large paws and matching white teeth.
With them, he could tear people apart if necessary, but more than
anything else, he could hide in the shadows and never be seen.
He was surprised to learn what his form was, but having done so, it
made sense.
Harry was a leader, he did care for and look for those that were
weaker than him, and he was an alpha in his own right, something
that Cain had mentioned to him on more than one occasion.
Taking in his reflection again to marvel at his own majesty, he
couldn't have found a more apt animal within himself, though he
expected Lucinda would be irked by it.
He was a wolf, and a proud one at that.
Still, despite the elation of finally completing his transformation, he
was still depleted from his efforts, and Harry followed his instincts to
sniff at the ground before curling himself up, much to the amusement
of Professor McGonagall.
"Sleep well, Potter," she chuckled as she snuffed out the torches on
the wall, leaving only the roaring fire in the hearth to light and heat
the room.
In only a matter of moments after being left alone, Harry did indeed
fall into a deep slumber where he dreamt of running freely across a
green field where he could chase the smaller animals to his heart's
content.
"What does it say?" Sirius asked nervously.
Remus continued scanning the letter Sirius had received a few hours
prior, though he'd not found the courage to open it himself.
Instead, he had opted for the werewolf to return to do it on his behalf.
It was the missive Harry had sent him, and Sirius felt sick with the
worry it had brought.
What if Harry did not want to know him? What if the letter was
nothing but a dismissal?
Sirius knew he wouldn't be able to blame his godson for it, but more
than anything, he hoped beyond hope that it was not the case.
Remus released a deep sigh.
"Just read it," he urged. "It's not as bad as it could be."
With a trembling hand, Sirius accepted the offered parchment and
carefully read each word that had been penned.
Sirius,
I will not apologise for how long it has taken for me to write to you.
For your claims of innocence, there is still much that I must come to
terms with. I do not believe that you betrayed my parents, and as
petty as it may seem, that doesn't mean that I do not feel betrayed
by your actions.
From what little I admittedly know of them; they would not have
asked any more of you than to care for me the way that you
promised you would have should the worst happen.
You chose vengeance over your responsibilities, and for that I
cannot promise that I will forgive.
However, I do understand.
I too feel the need to right the wrongs perpetrated against me, and I
can assure you that those that wronged my family or had a hand in it
will not escape my judgement.
Wormtail will suffer for what he did, as will all others I deem guilty for
their own actions.
Still, that does not mean I can fully absolve you for your own
foolishness; not yet at least, but I am willing to give you a chance.
It would be hypocritical of me to not do so, and an insult to my
parents who thought so much of you that they would entrust my care
to you, even if I can't help but think they were wrong.
For now, my only wish is that you continue your recovery from your
time in Azkaban, and should I feel ready, I will perhaps pay a visit to
you during the summer.
Do not do anything else foolish. Despite my best efforts, you are still
a wanted man, after all.
Best Wishes,
Harry
Sirius released a deep breath as he finished reading, a mixture of
relief and guilt flooding him.
Nevertheless, there was still a chance that he could form a bond with
his godson and that was what he would focus on.
"I told you," Remus's voice broke into his thoughts.
Sirius nodded as he placed the parchment back within the envelope.
"He still hasn't forgiven me."
"And maybe he won't," Remus sighed, "but that doesn't mean you
shouldn't prove yourself to him. James and Lily would expect nothing
less from you, and neither do I. If it weren't for what you did, things
would be different."
Sirius could only shrug.
"Maybe being raised by Cassiopeia has been a good thing for him,"
he mused aloud. "I don't know about all the lordship stuff, and he will
need to. Besides, as much as the woman frightens the life out of me,
she cares for him, and I can't fault what she has done."
"No, you can't," Remus agreed.
Sirius chuckled as he shook his head.
"Do you think he is as troublesome as she says?"
Remus grinned in response.
"I have no doubt about it," he replied amusedly. "I can only imagine
how much worse he would be if he was raised by you."
"Bloody hell, no one would get a moment of peace with us around."
Remus grimaced at the mere thought.
"Well, with the responsibilities he will have, I don't expect life could
ever be all laughter and joy, could it?"
Sirius shook his head.
"Being the lord of one family is difficult enough, but two as prominent
as the Potter and Blacks? The kid has got his work cut out for him."
"He will manage them quite admirably," Cassiopeia declared as she
entered the room. "Harry has been preparing for it since he could
walk and talk, and I have every faith that he will make both Arcturus
and Charlus proud."
"Those are some big shoes to fill," Sirius pointed out.
"And Harry will do so," Cassiopeia said confidently. "You do not know
him the way I do. Harry will make a fine Lord for both families and
will be as diplomatic as he will ruthless when the need arises for
either. Mark my words, Sirius, that boy will go down in history as one
of the greatest men to walk among us."
The confidence the woman showed in Harry was rather astounding,
but Sirius found he believed her.
There was no doubt lacing her tone, nor did her stern gaze flicker
with any reservation.
She truly and wholeheartedly had faith in each word she had
spoken.
"Now, do you have a message you would like me to pass on?" the
woman asked. "I will be meeting with Harry shortly."
Sirius nodded as he retrieved the nearby pot of ink, a sheet of
parchment, and a quill.
"Just a short note this time," he explained as he began penning his
reply.
When he was finished, he handed it to Cassiopeia who read it before
offering a nod of approval.
"He will appreciate your patience," she murmured. "He is trying,
Sirius," she added with a sigh. "It won't be easy for him, but he does
not wish to bear a grudge against you."
Sirius smiled, feeling more positive about the weeks and months to
come.
It was not easy being stuck in Grimmauld Place where the
unpleasant childhood memories still haunted him, but for Harry, he
would endure it, if only for the slightest glimmer of hope that
forgiveness truly was on the horizon.
"That is astounding, Harry!" Professor Flitwick praised.
He had been visiting the diminutive man for weeks now out of the
classroom, initially to get more of an insight on the kind of woman his
mother was, but Harry found Flitwick to be fascinating.
Not only was he just as gifted in Charms as Professor Sidorova, but
he was also a highly decorated duelling champion, one of the very
best of his era.
For the most part, the two of them had spoken of Lily Potter, her own
brilliance in the topic and the Professor's own experiences of her, but
recently, they had gotten on to the topic of magic.
"Thank you," Harry replied gratefully as his ethereal wolf bounded
around the room.
Receiving praise from a master of Flitwick's calibre was quite the
feat.
"I do not believe that I have ever come across one so young able to
produce a corporeal patronus," the man commented. "Not even your
mother achieved it until her fifth year, and that surprised me equally.
When did you manage it?"
"During the middle of my third year," Harry revealed. "I'd heard and
read about the Dementors and never wanted to find myself
defenceless against them."
Flitwick shuddered at the mention of the creatures.
"They are deeply unpleasant," he murmured. "Well, I do not believe
you have anything to fear. Your patronus is as strong as any other I
have seen."
Harry nodded as he ended the spell.
"I've been meaning to ask you something, Professor," he sighed. "No
one has confirmed it to me, but would I be right in thinking that spell
that was used to hide my parents was the Fidelius Charm?"
Flitwick shook his head.
"I wouldn't know, Harry," he replied apologetically, "but the fact that
they were betrayed or given up so to speak would indeed allude to it.
Your mother would certainly have been capable of it. Unfortunately,
there is no such thing as the perfect protection. No magic is infallible,
no matter how much it may appear so. The Fidelius is an excellent
form of protection, but it is only as strong as the trust you have in
your secret keeper."
"So, it is not the magic that is the weakness, but the people used to
cement it."
"Exactly," Flitwick confirmed. "For me, I could not put such trust in
anyone. Things beyond yours or their control can take place, and
that leaves you vulnerable. It is always best to have other measures
in place or be adequate in defending yourself if the need arises."
"Much like yourself, Professor?"
Flitwick smiled as he nodded.
"Very much so," he replied with a wink, "and yourself," he added. "It
is quite the feat for a fourth year to do what you did to Cassius
Warrington, even if some believed you acted harshly. He is no slouch
himself, Harry. I expect there is much more you are capable of."
"If the need arises," Harry returned with a wink.
Flitwick chuckled amusedly.
"Far be it for me to bring our time this evening to an end, I do not
think Professor Dumbledore would appreciate it if you were caught
roaming the halls much later, but my offer stands for as long as you
remain here. You are welcome to visit me any time."
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said with a respectful bow as he
headed towards the door.
"You are much more like her than you think," Flitwick called. "James
was well-known for being protective of his friends, but Lily could be
just as fierce."
"She was," Harry murmured, "until the very end."
It was quite the maudlin thought to part on, but Harry knew that he
needed to be focused on the task at hand.
Viktor had the maze to run in just a few weeks, but Harry had his
own thing to focus on.
It was by chance that he had been passing one of the girl's
bathrooms on the second floor when a first year Hogwarts girl had
emerged, sodden through to the skin and bemoaning the ghost that
had soaked her.
It had taken Harry only the briefest of glimpses inside to identify the
room the redheaded girl had been visiting during his second year at
Durmstrang, and only a few minutes more to locate the snake that
was engraved into the back of one of the taps on the sink.
He had considered reporting it to Dumbledore but had dismissed the
idea as quickly as it had formed.
The man wouldn't be able to enter the chamber without his
assistance anyway, and anything that was within, Harry planned to
claim for himself.
Tom Riddle had taken everything from him, and Harry would one day
return the favour.
He would destroy everything Voldemort had ever worked for, and
when the man was finally at his mercy, he would make his last
moments more agonising than the Dark Lord could possibly imagine.
Harry's skin tingled at the very thought, the bolts of lightning
crackling at his fingertips in anticipation.
Still, there was a little more preparation he needed to make before
plunging into the depths of the castle.
Although he could not be entirely certain, he was all but convinced
that he knew what lurked in the bowels of the school.
If his thoughts were correct, such a creature could not be left
unchecked, but Harry had the advantage of knowing exactly how he
could bring it on side.
Nevertheless, he knew that he needed to be prepared for all
eventualities, and if it came to it and his efforts failed, he would have
to be in a position to kill it.
"Are you going to continue to ignore me?" a voice sounded as he
was passing through the Entrance Hall.
Harry turned to find Daphne leaning against the doors to the Great
Hall, her arms folded across her chest.
"I'm not ignoring you," Harry refuted. "I just don't know what to say."
After what had happened in Snape's office, he didn't know where
they stood, and neither had made any attempt to engage the other in
conversation.
In truth, Harry thought that Daphne was angry with him for how he
had spoken to her father, but it was not something he was going to
apologise for.
"Well, hello would be a good start," she huffed.
"Hello," he acquiesced with a grin.
The girl rolled her eyes at him as she approached.
"So, what now?" she asked.
Harry shrugged.
"I'll be heading back to Durmstrang when the tournament is finished,"
he pointed out.
"Is it over now?" Daphne returned.
Harry shook his head.
"Then that is not something we need to worry about for the time
being, is it?"
"I don't suppose it is," Harry agreed with a chuckle.
Daphne released a deep sigh.
"I'm not expecting us to get married or for you to ask my father for a
contract," she explained. "I just want to enjoy your company, if that is
alright with you?"
Harry smiled as he nodded.
"I'd like that. It's not like your father would ever agree to a match
between us."
"But if that was something you would want in the future, you wouldn't
let that stop you."
"I wouldn't," Harry replied, swallowing as he felt her warm breath on
his lips.
"But it is like I said, that is not something we need to worry about,"
Daphne murmured before kissing him deeply.
Harry could only melt into it, not caring if they were caught again.
Jonathan Greengrass could do nothing to him, and if Harry wanted
to enjoy what remaining time he had with Daphne, who was he to
deny himself?
"Why did you really come here?" Gellert huffed.
Albus had a way of distracting even himself from any topic he wished
to broach with his flowery words and nonsense riddles.
He'd use them to unsettle even the most accomplished of politicians.
It was as impressive as it was irksome, particularly in this moment
when Gellert simply wanted him to get to the point.
"Ah, you know me too well," Albus sighed. "There is much on my
mind, the main thing being young Harry. Ever since the second task,
I have had several opportunities to speak with him."
Gellert snorted.
"You act as though you had not been observing the boy closely
already. You're right, Albus, I know you too well."
Albus did not deny the accusation.
"It is not the same as speaking with him," he pointed out. "I must say,
he is indeed a very bright young man."
"But?"
"I do have my concerns," Albus admitted. "He is very much like
James and Lily in many ways, but he is also like Tom."
"The boy is currently absorbing a soul piece of the man," Gellert
reminded him. "It is unavoidable that he will pick up some of his
characteristics."
Albus nodded thoughtfully.
"I hope so."
"The boy is not like him, Albus," Gellert said firmly. "We have been
over this."
"How can we be certain?"
"Because it has been thirteen years, Albus!" Gellert snapped. "If it
was possible for Voldemort to take over Harry's body, he would have
done so before the boy grew strong enough to resist him."
"Perhaps you are right," Albus sighed as he deflated, "but I cannot
help but see the similarities. Tom too was a brilliant boy; charming,
good looking, and gifted."
"As were you," Gellert returned evenly. "Are you forgetting the vision
we once shared, and what we were willing to do to achieve it? Get
off your high horse, Albus. Harry is nothing like Riddle, and he is
nothing like we once were."
Albus swallowed deeply, the memories of his formative years
evidently still haunting him.
"Why are you so convinced?" he questioned. "I know you just as well
as you know me. I can see you are not telling me everything,
Gellert."
The former Dark Lord narrowed his eyes at the other man.
"I do not believe you are ready for the truth, old friend," he replied
darkly. "Already you wish to paint the boy as a monster waiting to be
unleashed. I believe the truth would do nothing to change that."
"Truth?" Albus pressed.
Gellert nodded as he smirked.
"For once, I believe I am much more informed than you," he said
carefully. "Should I share it with you, will you promise to hear me out
before you jump to all the wrong conclusions?"
Albus offered a solemn bow.
"You have my word that I will listen to what you have to say."
Gellert was not convinced, but he would value Albus's input now as
he always had.
When they put their minds together, there was nothing they couldn't
achieve, and now was one of those moments he needed
confirmation of his own thoughts.
Gellert retrieved the locket and held it up for Albus to see.
"Where did you get this?" the Headmaster whispered when he
realised what it was.
"Regulus Black discovered Voldemort's secret," Gellert explained.
"He retrieved it before he was killed. The family elf gave it to
Cassiopeia."
Albus swallowed deeply as he reached for it.
Taking it into his hand, he shuddered.
"It is not like the diary," he murmured. "It is more…"
"Sophisticated," Gellert finished. "It is indeed a Horcrux, but not like
anything I have read about. He has somehow given it a life of sorts.
It whispers to me, Albus, tries to show me memories, and when I
refuse, it attacks my mind. I have no doubt that should I allow it in
just once, I would not be able to rid myself of its presence."
Albus eyed the locket with concern.
"If Tom managed to create them this way, how sophisticated would
the one be within Harry?" he mused aloud.
"I expect it is much like this one," Gellert answered.
"So, it has taken hold of him?"
"No," Gellert sighed. "I already said that a piece of a soul could never
do such a thing to one that is whole. It is not mathematically
possible. I do not believe that Harry can even be considered a
Horcrux. His soul and magic have taken it and is making it his own.
My only question is what memories and knowledge has the boy
taken with the benefits?"
Albus appeared to be alarmed by the query.
"The soul piece that latched on to him, if it is like this, would have
contained all of Tom's magical knowledge and memories, would it
not?"
Gellert shook his head.
"I do not believe so," he returned thoughtfully. "I believe there will be
much that Harry has gained from it, but I cannot see how it is
possible for a fragment of soul to contain everything. They are finite
in nature, and certainly not as able as the human mind. Still, this has
taught me much about Voldemort. He is strong, Albus. Ask yourself,
even without your knowledge of the prophecy; do you believe you
could defeat him?"
Albus pondered the question for several moments before his
shoulders slumped and he shook his head.
"No, I do not," he murmured. "We fought on a number of occasions
and even with the wand, I could all but just about hold my own
against him. I do not believe I can best Tom."
"Even at my very best, I do not believe I could have either," Gellert
admitted. "He is a brilliant wizard, Albus, and one that has indeed
taken steps that no other has to make himself only more powerful.
Harry will need to be stronger than him if he is to have any chance of
success. You may be willing to put your faith in the words of a seer,
but you know my thoughts on the matter, old friend."
"We carve our own path in life, whether it is in favour or spite of fate,
it will always be our choice," Albus recited, a ghost of a smile tugging
at his lips.
"Which is why I will leave nothing to chance," Gellert declared. "Only
yesterday, I handed Cassiopeia all I could on magic and the spells I
created, along with others I gathered along the way. She has been
instructed to give it to the boy."
"Do you think that is wise?"
"Do you not?" Gellert returned evenly. "He will need all the help he
can get, Albus. I implore you to follow my example. Harry is no fool. I
have no doubt that he knows what it is he will one day face, and I
would see him do it with every confidence that he can win."
"It will mean war."
"War is already coming!" Gellert snapped irritably. "Do you expect a
man like Tom Riddle will merely return, kill the boy, and fade into
obscurity? No, he will pick up where he left off, and Britain's best bet
is a Harry that is ready to face it when the time is right. I do not know
if he is aware of the prophecy that hangs over him, but it doesn't
matter. He will not let what happened to his parents go unpunished.
He will seek Tom out, just as Tom will seek out Harry."
Albus seemed to be struggling with a conflict between his thoughts
and his emotions, but eventually, he nodded.
"I will give him all the help I can," he vowed.
Gellert smiled and nodded approvingly.
"You are doing the right thing," he replied, reaching the bars of his
cell and giving Albus's hand a squeeze. "What of the wand?"
"Will it truly make a difference?"
"In his hands, yes," Gellert whispered firmly. "Harry has something
that we do not have; the blood of the Peverells flows through his
veins. I believe it will make all the difference. He has the cloak, and
with the wand, he will have two of the Hallows."
"The power the Dark Lord knows not," Albus whispered thoughtfully.
"Do you think it could mean that Harry will unite all three?"
Gellert shrugged.
"I would not speculate on the prophecy, but I would not dismiss it
entirely either," he sighed. "There must be something about Harry
that saw him survive that not beyond what Lily Potter did. Perhaps
he is Death's chosen to right the wrongs in the world. If it is to be,
then it shall, but for now, our focus should be on the boy and how we
can help him."
Albus nodded his agreement.
"I will follow your example," he declared. "What good some of it will
do for one so young, I do not know, but I will do it. I will give Harry
every chance to live."
Gellert smiled gratefully.
He understood that it was difficult for Albus to accept that his ideas
were not always for the greater good, but Gellert believed he had
indeed managed to get through to the man.
For Harry, and indeed for the greater good.
Cain threw the latest letter he had received from his mother into the
fire where it joined the dozen or so unopened others he had been
sent over the past weeks.
He no longer wished to read his mother's mad ramblings about a
perceived 'brighter tomorrow', nor did he intend on replying.
The letters were nothing more than her internal thoughts, and the
occasional snippet of news on the pack.
Fenrir was promising them all a better life, something most wished
for, and those that were content would simply follow through fear.
There was none amongst them who dared speak out against their
alpha, not one as ruthless and bloodthirsty as Greyback had proven
to be.
Cain remembered when he had been a small boy there had been
another large male, one who refused to attack a muggle village
during the approaching full moon.
The man had been murdered in front of the entire pack, and his
remains hung from a tree until the crows had finished feasting upon
it.
Cain did not wish to suffer such a fate, but he was among those that
were content with their lot.
When the time came, he would either have to follow the rest of them,
or he would be killed, just like the man had been.
"How's it going?" Jonas asked as he entered the dorm room.
Cain offered the boy a weak smile as he shrugged.
"Same old," he replied.
Jonas shook his head.
"It isn't though, is it?"
"What do you mean?"
Jonas took a seat on the edge of the bed, a deep frown marring his
features.
"It's different without Harry. You must have noticed that."
"It is," Cain agreed. "Even the girls are acting strangely."
"Ever since the article at Christmas," Jonas pointed out. "I don't think
they liked that very much. Especially the vampire."
"None of them did," Cain chuckled. "I could smell the envy."
"Is that why you have been quiet too?" Jonas asked. "Are you
jealous? It's alright if you are. It doesn't make any difference to me."
Cain was taken aback by the question until he realised what he'd
been asked.
"NO!" he denied firmly. "Nothing like that. There's just other things
going on in my life."
"Anything I can help with?"
Cain shook his head morosely.
"No, but thanks for offering," he replied appreciatively. "Anything fun
happen to Barkus today?"
Jonas grinned in response.
"The idiot tried to draw his wand on a second year and it backfired,"
he snorted. "The last I heard, he's in the medical bay having his
teeth regrown and his nose fixed."
"Good," Cain declared. "You would have thought he'd have learned
by now."
"People like Barkus never do," Jonas sighed. "Anyway, will you come
and check on the girls with me?"
Cain nodded as he stood.
Despite having grown tired of the jealous behaviour from them, he
had promised Harry he would keep an eye on them when he'd asked
him to in a letter he'd received shortly after Christmas.
None of the girls had written to him for almost two weeks after the
article was published, and Harry had been confused as to why.
It was a point of amusement for the werewolf.
Harry may be good at most things, but when it came to girls, he was
as clueless as the rest of them.
Cain had the benefit of witnessing the reactions and subsequent
behaviour of Lucinda, Ana, and Eleanor, and though he found it to be
rather funny, it had bothered him that they had ignored Harry for so
long.
It wasn't as though he had done anything wrong, and yet, they had
seemingly punished him for it.
Still, they did eventually write back to him, but Cain would bet
anything he owned that they had not mentioned the beautiful
Daphne Greengrass in any of their letters.
"Lucky bastard," he muttered to himself.
"Who is?" Jonas asked confusedly.
"Potter."
The son of the hag grinned as he nodded his agreement.
"That he is, but will you think the same when he comes back and
has to face that lot?" he questioned, nodding to the trio of girls
seated near the fireplace in the common room.
Cain shivered at the thought.
"Should we warn him?"
"Would he do the same for us?"
Harry would not.
He would think it to be the most amusing thing, and with all the
pranks Cain had fallen victim to at Harry's hands, he felt even less
inclined to warn his friend.
"I say we let him handle it himself."
Jonas grinned at the thought.
"Who handle what?" Lucinda questioned.
"Nothing," Cain replied. "Nothing at all."
"Why are we meeting here?" Harry asked curiously as he took a seat
in the drawing room at Grimmauld Place.
He had never visited the house before, and he had hoped his first
time here would not be in such a clandestine manner.
What became quickly apparent was that Cassiopeia was unusually
nervous, but as stern as he had ever seen her.
"There are things we must discuss," she replied, her pacing back
and forth across the width of the fireplace not slowing. "Things that
we cannot risk being overheard. What is said within this room stays
between us. Do I make myself clear?"
Harry's demeanour shifted immediately as he nodded.
Whatever Cassiopeia wished to discuss was of the utmost
importance. She would not insist on such secrecy for anything less.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
Cassiopeia took a deep breath before taking her seat.
"First, I have a confession to make," she sighed. "It is about the
person that gave you all the information about Durmstrang. The
secret rooms, the shortcuts, and all the other useful things."
"What about them?" Harry asked suspiciously.
Cassiopeia shook her head as she removed a thick roll of parchment
from within her robes.
"You will remain calm," she instructed.
Harry nodded and accepted the offered parchment.
It had been tied together with a piece of fraying twine, but it was not
the fastening that caught his attention.
A symbol of sorts had been carefully drawn at the edge of the fold,
one that was somewhat familiar to him.
"This is Grindelwald's symbol," he whispered.
"It is," Cassiopeia agreed.
Harry frowned as he tried to remember all he had learned during his
History lessons regarding the man.
Even at Durmstrang, he was not well thought of.
Many across Europe had lost family members during the war, the
effects and anger of which were still felt today.
"I thought he had died during his duel with Dumbledore."
Cassie chuckled.
"Has anything you have seen of the old fool given you the
impression he could kill anyone?"
"Not really," Harry admitted.
"Gellert was imprisoned, nothing more," Cassie explained. "I have
made no secret of whom I was loyal to. In a way, I am still loyal to
him."
"In a way?"
Cassiopeia smiled at him.
"Gellert will always be someone I look up to for his brilliance, his
ambition, and his endeavours," she murmured, "but my loyalty is
yours, Harry."
Her words warmed him, and Harry felt himself calm upon hearing
them.
"But you have remained in contact with him?"
Cassie nodded unashamedly.
"I have," she confirmed. "He has been there for me during my most
difficult of times. Even when I first took you in, I turned to him for
advice, and he has been helping me since."
"And me by the looks of things."
"He knows everything, Harry," Cassie informed him. "He knows what
it is you will face, and Gellert wishes to help you."
"He wants to help me? Why?"
"Because, despite what you may have heard about him, he is a good
man, and a very gifted and powerful wizard," Cassie answered.
"Everything he can do to help you is in that parchment; his spells,
and anything else he believed would be useful to you."
Harry unrolled the several sheets of parchment where he found page
after page of spells and other useful pieces of information he could
make excellent use of.
"He truly wants you to succeed, Harry," Cassie assured him.
Harry did not know what to believe.
He found it difficult to simply dismiss everything the man had done in
the pursuit of something so insane, nor could he forget the pain and
misery he had caused thousands across the world.
"I know it will take some time for you to accept this, but please do,"
Cassie pleaded. "He truly is one of the greatest wizards to have
lived, and it would be foolish to turn his help away."
Harry nodded as he read a few more of the spells.
Was it immoral to accept the offered help?
Was it selfish to want to accept it despite everything Grindelwald had
done?
Harry didn't know, but he was not so stupid to turn away any
advantage he could one day hold over his enemies.
"I will think about it," he promised.
"That's all I'm asking of you," Cassie returned with a smile. "When
you feel ready, Gellert would like to meet you. I promise you will find
him not to be what History has painted him."
Harry nodded as he rolled up the parchment, pausing as he caught
sight of the symbol once more.
He ran his fingers across it, an odd, faint, yet familiar feeling making
itself known to him.
"What is this symbol?" he asked.
Cassie tutted.
"Gellert used it as his own during the war," she sighed. "He said it
had once been meaningful to him."
Harry nodded his understanding, but he could not shake the feeling
there was more to it.
The magic felt much like it did when he draped his invisibility cloak
around him.
Were the two somehow connected?
Harry did not know, but he knew that feeling such similar magic in
two different things in this world usually was not coincidental.
Perhaps he needed to research the cloak to understand it?
It was something he added to his ever-growing list of things he
needed to do.
Still, despite his suspicions and the revelations of the evening, his
focus would not waver from getting Viktor through the third task of
the tournament, and his own endeavour.
For Harry, his next undertaking would be to venture into the fabled
Chamber of Secrets, to see what, if anything, he could uncover.