Bones Manor Burns!
By Rita Skeeter
In what can only be described as a shocking incident, the evening of
Christmas Day saw the home of one of Britain's oldest and most
respected pureblood families razed to the ground.
Bones Manor has been the ancestral seat of the family for several
centuries and has overseen many generations come and go
throughout its existence.
Sadly, that will no longer be the case.
At around midnight on Christmas evening, aurors responded to a
report of a blaze at the property and arrived to find that most of it had
been destroyed by the fire.
Thankfully, Madam Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of
Magical Law Enforcement and her niece, Susan, were not home at
the time.
The former was unavailable to comment on the incident, but Minister
of Magic, Cornelius Fudge had this to say.
" This is a most unfortunate incident, and one that has been
thoroughly investigated by a team of Senior Aurors," he explained.
"From what little evidence that has been gathered, it appears that
the blaze was accidental in nature. We are grateful that Madam
Bones nor her niece were not present at the time, and the Ministry is
at their disposal for any assistance they require."
An accident such as this seems to be quite unlikely.
The manor has stood proudly for centuries, and Madam Bones is
certainly not a careless woman.
Is there something that our Minister is not telling us?
Until further information is given, we can merely speculate, but this
reporter has her doubts to the veracity of this claim.
It had been a little over six months ago now that Harry had
unwittingly watched as the home of the Bones family had been
burned to the ground, and the subsequent article released by Rita
informing the public of what had happened.
Harry did not know how a thorough investigation was carried out by
the aurors, but it was clear something had gone amiss during it. He
knew the truth of the matter, and he could not help but think that
Fudge had a hand in covering up what had happened.
Perhaps the Minister did not wish to panic the public, or maybe
Amelia Bones herself had wanted the nature of the fire to remain
unknown, though Harry had his doubts of the latter.
He did not know the Head of the Department of Magical Law
Enforcement, but it made little sense for her to conceal it.
Regardless, although Voldemort had succeeded in destroying the
manor, his endeavour had certainly not born the fruit he had desired.
Amelia yet lived, and those he had spoken with of the women were
all of the same mind.
Amelia Bones was beyond corruption and would not simply allow
Voldemort to exert his will over magical Britain.
During the last war, she had lost much of her family to the man; her
brothers, her parents, and even Susan's mother, all of whom having
resisted the efforts of the Death Eaters to their own detriment.
No, the woman would not be compromised.
Nonetheless, as talented as she was said to be, it would be
Voldemort she was defying, and when the Dark Lord decided you
had been a nuisance for long enough, you seldom lived much longer.
"Have you finished packing?" Cain asked, breaking into Harry's
thoughts.
He nodded as he placed the copy of the article on top of his
belongings before closing the lid and shrinking it.
Placing it in the pocket of his robes, he turned to be greeted by the
nervous visage of his friend.
"I do wish you would do as you're bloody told," Harry muttered
irritably.
Cain smirked at him in response, though there was little behind the
gesture.
"We've been through this," he pointed out. "I need to go back. I need
to see what else I can find out about what is happening."
Harry shook his head.
"It doesn't matter, Cain," he huffed. "Your pack will join up with him. It
doesn't matter when, we both know it will happen. I'm trying to save
your life!"
"You already have," Cain replied with a sincere smile. "Now it's my
turn to help you."
The sentiment was undeniable, and it warmed Harry to know that the
other boy was willing to risk it all to help him, despite how fearful he
was, and with good reason.
Greyback was one of the monsters that parents warned their
children of, and though Cain had never hidden the fact that he was a
part of the notorious wolf's pack, it had never been an issue between
them until now.
Flashback
For the most part, his time away from Durmstrang for the Christmas
break had been enjoyable. He'd spent much of his time with Cassie,
Sirius, and Remus, and had even ventured to Godric's Hollow to visit
his parent's grave.
Still, the holiday had come to an end, sooner than her would have
liked, and Harry once more found himself in his dormitory after
spending several hours on the school ship.
"Harry, are you awake?" Cain whispered through the darkness.
It had long past midnight, and it was odd for the werewolf to be
awake beyond it, but Cain had been distracted for the entire return
journey to school and had barely spoken to the others all evening.
Harry thought that perhaps he was still feeling the effects from his
latest transformation, but even at his worst, he was never this
subdued.
No, something was evidently bothering his friend.
"What do you need?" Harry asked.
Cain released a deep breath, seemingly pondering how to broach
the subject he wished to discuss.
It was a moment later that the werewolf came into view and sat at
the end of Harry's bed, his posture slumped, an expression of
dismay marring his features.
"Can you think of any reason why Greyback would be interested in
you?"
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
Cain shrugged.
"He asked me about you," he revealed. "He wants me to find out any
information I can. I didn't tell him anything," he added quickly.
Harry held up a hand to calm the other boy.
"The only reason he would be asking after me is because of
Voldemort."
"Voldemort?" Cain whispered worriedly.
Harry nodded.
"I expect he has made contact with Greyback," he sighed. "He
supported him during the last war."
"But Voldemort is dead."
"No, he isn't," Harry murmured. "He's still alive. He's just biding his
time before he comes back. Greyback will be one of the allies he
wishes to reconnect with."
"Shit," Cain groaned. "That's what he keeps going on about."
Harry shot him a question look, and Cain deflated.
"He's been rallying the pack, promising us that we will be moving on
to have a better life. He means that he's going to take them to join up
with Voldemort, doesn't he?"
"Yes," Harry answered bluntly.
There was no use in lying to the boy, nor was there any point in
attempting to soften the blow.
Cain swallowed deeply as he shook his head.
"I won't do it. I will not serve the man that killed your parents."
Harry felt for the boy.
Cain was his best friend and he was being torn in to two opposing
directions. Whichever one he chose to follow, he would be betraying
the other, but Harry perhaps had a solution to that.
"You don't have to go against your pack," he pointed out. "When
Voldemort returns, it will be my war to fight. I can't promise that I
won't find myself fighting against them too, Cain."
"I know," the werewolf replied sadly.
"You don't have to go back. I can keep you out of it."
Cain shook his head.
"Who else is going to be in a better position to pass information you
will need on to you."
"Don't be stupid," Harry huffed. "That's too dangerous. I won't let you
do that."
Cain offered him a smile.
"I love my parents, Harry. Despite everything, I still hope that I can
get them out of this mess. I might be stupid for thinking it, but if
helping you can help them, then I'll gladly do it. It might be your war,
but it involves me now too."
Harry could only curse under his breath in response.
End Flashback
"It doesn't work that way," Harry sighed. "Why do you have to be
such a stubborn shit?"
"Why do you have to try to shoulder all the responsibility in the
world?" Cain returned. "If there is a war coming, you can't fight it
alone."
"I know," Harry murmured, "but forgive me for wanting to keep my
friends safe from it. You don't have to go back. You can spend the
summer with me. We can figure everything else out afterwards."
Cain chuckled.
"They would find me eventually," he pointed out. "You don't just walk
away from the pack."
Harry could only shake his head in response.
"Fine, but the moment you sense that you are in any danger, you get
a message to me and I will find you. Deal?"
"If it gets you to shut up, then deal," Cain agreed.
It was the best that Harry would get out of the boy, and though he did
not like it, there was little else that he could say or do to deter him.
He understood.
Cain wished to save his parents, and the best way of doing that was
to be with them, but even knowing that did little to assuage his
worries.
"Come on, instead of trying to find a way of changing my mind, let's
get some dinner. It will be our last one here for a while," Cain
reminded him.
Reluctantly conceding to the other boy, Harry could only shake his
head as he followed him from the room.
They would be returning home for the summer in the morning, and
he wished to enjoy his final evening of his fifth year here without
such a dark cloud hanging over him.
During Tom's last rise to prominence, any time there was a lull in
activity or an apparent period of peace was upon them, it unsettled
Albus deeply. On the surface, it may seem that the Dark Lord was
taking a reprieve for himself and his followers, but the headmaster
knew the man better.
Tom never rested, and when he wasn't carrying out attacks, there
was no doubt that something else was afoot.
Why he had decided to suddenly attack the home of Madame Bones
was rather baffling, especially considering that the woman was not
there.
Tom had always been rather reckless and unequivocally arrogant,
but to not check that his target would be caught up on his destruction
had been an error on his part, and not a mistake Albus expected he
would make again.
Cornelius may have been content to deem the incident little more
than an unfortunate accident, but Madame Bones had not been
fooled, an opinion she had expressed to Albus when he had met with
her shortly before the students returned from their Christmas holiday
away from the castle.
Flashback
It had not been the peaceful break that Albus had anticipated, and
though what happened to the home of Amelia Bones could certainly
have yielded much worse results, it was still a disaster, nonetheless.
For the past couple of days, the headmaster had been exceedingly
busy learning what he could about what had transpired, and even
without the expertise of advanced auror training, it was not so
difficult to draw his conclusions.
Now, he merely needed to share them with the very woman that
would be joining him momentarily.
It was only a minute later that the fireplace flared into life, and
without preamble, Albus admitted Amelia into his office.
She removed the dust from her robes with a wave of her wand
before stepping forward, the bags under her eyes deep and
prominent, though she remained as sharp as ever.
"It is perhaps an insensitive question, but how are you?" Albus
asked.
Amelia's nostrils flared slightly as she took the seat opposite him.
"Given the circumstances, things could be better," she sighed.
Albus offered her a sympathetic smile.
"Was it truly an accident?"
Amelia raised an eyebrow in his direction, a gesture gave Albus all
the answer he needed.
"Cornelius believes that making it public knowledge that it was
intentional will only embolden the attacker to act rashly and try again.
We both know that is crap. Dawlish told me exactly how the fire
happened."
Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully.
He had strongly suspected a differing version of events having been
provided to the public at large.
"Perhaps I can shed a little more light on the matter for you."
"What do you mean?" Amelia asked suspiciously. "I have not even
been allowed to return there yet, so if you know something, Albus…"
Albus held up a hand to calm the woman.
"You have my apologies for interfering, but I visited your property
myself to confirm my own thoughts as to what happened," he
explained.
"What did you find?" Amelia pressed, a deep frown creasing her
brow.
"The fire was undoubtedly started intentionally," Albus revealed.
"By whom?"
Albus released a deep breath.
By whom?
That was the question indeed, one with an answer likely stun the
usually unshakeable woman.
"I expect it is rather difficult to believe, but you know me well enough
to know that I am not one for dramatics or speaking such things if I
was not confident in my findings."
Amelia huffed irritably.
"Please, just get on with it," she urged. "Who burned down my
home?"
"Voldemort."
Much to her credit, Amelia did not flinch at the mention of the
infamous Dark Lord like most others would. However, when she
realised what Albus said, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Voldemort?" she scoffed. "Then I expect you will be able to explain
to me how a man that has been dead for close to fifteen years now
was able to destroy my family home."
Albus nodded in response.
"I will do just that," he assured her. "He is not dead, Amelia. He did
not die when we believed it so, and he has been quietly planning his
return, well not so quietly in some cases. You are not his first victim."
Amelia frowned questioningly at Albus.
"Who?" she pressed.
"Barty."
Amelia shook her head.
"This is all very farfetched, Albus," she pointed.
"It is," the headmaster agreed, "but if you grant me a few moments of
your time, I have much proof that I can offer."
Amelia eyed him sternly, evidently deciding whether or not Albus had
completely lost his mind.
"Very well," she decided. "I will hear you out."
Albus nodded gratefully as he gestured towards the pensieve behind
him.
"If you would join me for a brief trip down memory lane, I believe it
will put your most understandable doubts to rest."
Somewhat reluctantly, Amelia stood and Albus drew the two
memories he wished to share with her before placing them into the
stone basin and swirling them around.
"After you," he offered courteously when he was finished preparing.
Offering Albus a final look of scepticism, the redhead plunged her
face into the bowl and the headmaster followed suit to relive two of
his most recent, unpleasant memories.
When they re-emerged several moments later, Amelia said nothing
as she returned to her seat, her expression unreadable.
"This is no joke?" she whispered severely.
Albus shook his head.
"I wish that it were," he sighed. "He truly did possess a former
professor and Miss Weasley the following year."
"And you have seen nor heard anything of him since?"
"Not until Severus confirmed that he has indeed returned," Albus
explained. "At great risk to himself, he will continue to serve the Dark
Lord as a vital asset to ourselves."
Amelia pursed her lips in displeasure.
"And I expect that you and your group will also be resuming the
same work you did previously?"
Albus offered the woman an innocent smile and rubbed her eyes
tiredly.
"This is not good," she murmured. "The Ministry is in such a pitiful
state, and Cornelius will never believe this."
"Which is why I have not discussed it with him," Albus replied.
"Those that surround him…"
"Are those that were able to avoid prosecution the last time around,"
Amelia finished. "The auror department in particular is not in great
shape. Most are older and past their best, and the younger one lack
the needed experience to cope with war, Albus. We certainly do not
have the funds to strengthen what we have, and Cornelius will never
grant additional gold."
Albus nodded his understanding.
"What the hell can we do?" Amelia sighed, the first hint of concern
breaking through in the tone of her voice.
"We prepare as best we can," Albus answered. "For all
eventualities."
Amelia grimaced at the thought, her already tired expression taking
on the added stress immediately.
End Flashback
Albus had not expected anything less from Amelia Bones than to
take the revelation of Tom's return in her stride, and though her
resources were limited, she had indeed been doing all she could to
face the impending war.
According to Kingsley and Nymphadora, she had been training the
aurors harder, ensuring that they had the best fighting chance
possible to endure what was to come.
It would likely be for naught, but Amelia was not one to simply give
up in the face of adversity.
No, she would fight until her final breath, something Albus hoped
would not come for many years.
Wizarding Britain needed people like Amelia now more than ever,
even if her efforts would be little more than enough to hinder Tom's
progress.
The war itself would not be concluded by the aurors, the Death
Eaters, or even Albus and the Order.
It would be decided between Harry and Tom, and the headmaster
could only hope that the cost of the victory he believed so
wholeheartedly in would not be too high.
The likelihood of such, however, was slim.
People would die on both sides, and though he wished he could
prevent the unnecessary loss of life, he was not so naïve to believe
that it could be so.
It was a maudlin thought.
Death in such circumstances was always so morbid, so needless,
but it would come no matter what action he took.
Absentmindedly, he began stroking Fawkes' plumage as he helped
himself to a sherbet lemon.
Now, it was little more than a matter of time before the war would
truly begin, and when it did, an oppressive shadow would once more
descend over Britain until it could be lifted for good.
It had been a strange year at Durmstrang.
As happy as she was to have Harry back, his return had been
marred by his something of a relationship he had delved into with the
Zabini girl.
Was it a relationship?
Lucinda didn't know how to define what had been going on between
the two.
They were never seen in public together beyond duelling in the
evenings, and even then, there was no indication of any affection
between the two.
Had she not been able to smell them on one another whenever she
was in close proximity to them, she would have been none the wiser
to whatever it was they got up to behind closed doors.
Still, it would come to an end soon.
It was Zabini's last evening as a student here, and come September,
Harry would be back without the older girl.
The thought brought a sense of relief to the vampire.
Lucinda didn't despise feeling jealous, it was simply a part of her
nature, after all, she merely detested admitting it to anyone other
than herself.
Nevertheless, there would be no need for such feelings any longer.
A rare smile graced her lips as she entered the library to return the
last of the books she had borrowed throughout the year.
Things would return to normal after tonight.
Placing them on the trolley under the glare of the librarian, she
turned to leave, only to gasp as she found someone in her personal
space, much closer than she allowed anyone to be to her.
Lucinda scowled at the smiling Zabini as she fought the urge to
curse the girl.
Zabini did not miss her fingers twitching toward her wand and she
quirked an eyebrow at her.
"How tempted have you been to curse me all year?" she whispered
interestedly.
Lucinda rolled her eyes in response.
"Don't flatter yourself," she huffed.
Zabini laughed as she held up her hands.
"I come in peace," she assured the wary Lucinda. "I just wanted to
speak with you."
"Why?"
Zabini offered her a curious smile as her gaze drifted over her
leaving Lucinda feeling rather violated.
"I just wanted to know what it is that makes you so special," she
answered after a moment.
"What do you mean?"
Zabini laughed once more and gestured for Lucinda to follow her.
With her curiosity getting the better of her, she reluctantly did so, and
found herself wandering the shelves with the soon-to-be ex-student.
"You want him for yourself."
"Excuse me?" Lucinda choked.
"Harry. You want him. Don't deny it, I've seen the way you look at me
as though I've stolen something that belongs to you."
Zabini wasn't angry. If anything, she seemed to be rather amused.
"What are you going to do about it?" the older girl pressed.
"I don't see how this is any of your business."
"It's not," Zabini returned with a shrug. "But if you think I'm going to
be the only beautiful girl interested in him, you have another thing
coming. Harry and I got into what we have knowing it would be
nothing but some harmless fun, but it may not be the same with
others."
"Harmless fun?" Lucinda pressed.
Zabini nodded unashamedly.
"I like him, even more now that I've spent so much time with him this
year. I had not even entertained the notion that I might start to fall for
him, and there is a part of me that is glad that I am leaving to escape
it, and another part that is heartbroken. But our agreement was our
agreement. I will move on with my life, and maybe if I am lucky I will
find myself married to someone who is even a fraction of what Harry
Potter will be."
"You love him."
"How can I not?" Zabini chuckled humourlessly, "and I know that
there is a part of him that will hold on to what we had, but this is all
that it was meant to be. We got to share something incredible, and
neither of us will forget it."
"But you don't want anything more? You used him!" Lucinda
accused.
"No, I did not use him," Zabini corrected. "We both knew what this
was, and besides, Harry feels the same as I do. He hasn't said it in
as many words, but he doesn't need to. There is that part of me that
wishes I could approach my father and demand he negotiates a
contract for us."
"Then why don't you?"
"Because Harry Potter does not belong to me," Zabini answered
simply. "I never thought I would envy another girl, let alone a
vampire, but here I am."
"Me?"
Zabini nodded soberly.
"I had him for this year, and there may be other girls that have the
privilege of some time with him, but you will always get in the way of
them."
"I didn't do anything to get in between the two of you!" Lucinda
hissed.
"You didn't," Zabini agreed, "but Harry cares for you more than he
does anyone else. I don't know if it is a sisterly affection, or that he
has feelings for you that he hasn't recognised, but he would never do
anything that would intentionally hurt you. You're the one person he
speaks of more than anyone else, and he does it with such fondness
and care. I don't think even you would believe it. My only question is,
do you care for him as much, or do you just not want anyone else to
have him?"
"I let you have him, didn't I?"
Zabini grinned triumphantly before her expression softened and she
took Lucinda by the hands, shuddering at the coldness of the touch.
"Maybe at first I wanted to use him for my own enjoyment," she
admitted. "I didn't count on coming to care for him the way I do, but it
happened. A piece of my heart will always be his, and maybe I will
keep a little of Harry's for myself, but I think that even if he is too
dense to see it right now, he is already set on someone else."
"Me?"
Zabini nodded.
"Maybe it will never come to anything, or maybe the differences
between the two of you will prove to be too much to overcome, but
despite what happens or what he does, don't forget how much he
cares for you. Any idiot can see it, but I suppose Harry is a special
kind of idiot."
Lucinda snorted amusedly and Zabini squeezed her hands.
"No matter what happens, take care of him for me," she almost
pleaded. "He deserves to be cared for as much as he cares for
others, don't you think?"
Lucinda nodded before she laughed to herself.
"I spent this entire year wishing something horrible would happen to
you," she sighed. "Now I feel bad for thinking it. You're not so bad.
Thank you for this."
Zabini offered her a sincere smile.
"I did it for him," she explained. "If it is you that will make him happy
then so be it. I am curious about something though."
"What?" Lucinda questioned.
"Is every part of you as cold as your hands?" Zabini asked pointedly.
Lucinda quirked an eyebrow at the girl.
She'd never been asked such a personal question so brazenly.
Not that she was embarrassed by it. On the contrary, she found the
question to be quite understandable and humorous.
"I can assure you I can provide all the warmth needed," Lucinda
replied.
Zabini shuddered once more as Lucinda pushed a wave of heat
through her hands.
"Now that is interesting," she commented.
"Anything else you wish to know?"
Zabini shook her head, a grin tugging at her lips.
"No, that was everything," she sighed. "Take care of him for me. He's
a lot more sensitive than most would believe."
"I will," Lucinda assured her.
With that, Zabini gave her a final smile, her eyes watery as she
turned and took her leave of the library.
Lucinda stood rooted to the spot for several moments as she
replayed the conversation over in her mind.
She had despised the girl, but now, she felt that she understood her
more.
Zabini didn't want to take Harry from her, she merely wanted a little
of him to herself, and in truth, Lucinda could not hate her for that.
Oddly, it helped knowing that what the two of them had shared
wasn't entirely empty and meaningless.
Zabini cared for Harry and it somehow brought some comfort to the
vampire.
It brought a sad smile to her lips.
In a way, she felt sorry for the other girl, but was equally grateful.
Although she had not planned on developing feelings when she and
Harry had begun their dalliance, it had happened nonetheless, and
yet, there was no bitterness from her towards Lucinda.
It had been an unexpected conversation, but one that the vampire
appreciated for what it was.
Zabini was looking out for Harry, and as something of a final gesture
of care and affection towards him, she had taken steps to ensure
that he would be cared for now that she wouldn't be around.
He would be.
No matter what happened, Lucinda would care for him, even if he
was a frustrating, irritating idiot that did his best to provoke certain
reactions from her.
She shook her head as she too left the library.
Despite his ability to wind her up, she wouldn't have him any other
way.
Well, she would, but that would perhaps have to wait until both of
them were ready to face what it was they felt for one another, if of
course their affections did indeed go further than the platonic
displays they had shown thus far.
For now, Lucinda was content to see what would happen.
As much as she knew that she wanted him for herself, she would
rather have him as she did now than not at all, and if she were to
admit her feelings now, it could serve to only push him away.
That, she could not comprehend facing, and though Zabini had
offered her more assurances than she could have asked for, the
doubts she felt still lingered at the back of her mind.
His attempt to draw first blood against Britain had ultimately failed.
Something that irked the Dark Lord more than he cared to admit.
Failure was not something that was familiar to him, and to
experience it so early on was not the beginning to his resurgence he
had desired.
Still, he would not be deterred by such a minor inconvenience.
Bones would die, as would all others that opposed him.
It was merely a matter of time.
"What news do you bring me, Lucius?" Voldemort questioned
irritably.
The Dark Lord was becoming restless, his already short temper
taking little to provoke recently.
He longed to truly get the war underway, to fulfil the destiny that had
been almost snatched away from him more than a decade ago.
"I bring much news, My Lord," Lucius replied with a bow.
Were it not for the blond and his insistence on being patient, perhaps
the war would be well on the way to being concluded by now. But the
Dark Lord knew that despite how much it infuriated him to wait,
Lucius understood the current state of the country better than him.
Fifteen years was a long time to be absent.
"Well?" Voldemort snapped.
Lucius hurriedly flicked through the pages of parchment he held
before handing a sheet to him.
"Those are the names of the families that will oppose us without
hesitation," he explained. "They will not be bribed, blackmailed, or
intimidated."
Voldemort nodded thoughtfully as he read through them, each name
familiar to him as old foes.
"And how would you suggest we handle them?"
"All bar one has an heir, so killing the Lord or Lady of the family
would not eliminate the line. However, I would recommend taking
hostages, My Lord. People tend to cooperate when it is their loved
ones' lives on the line."
"It would be easier to kill them," Voldemort grumbled.
"In the short term, yes," Lucius replied carefully, "but if entire families
are being wiped out, it will only strengthen the resistance against us.
For the time being at least, until your position is secured, we must
present a front of cooperation as to not arouse too much suspicion.
You must be willing to appoint representatives to work on your
behalf, for public image purposes, of course."
Voldemort hummed unhappily.
"Fine," he agreed. "I suppose this will take time to implement?"
"It will, My Lord," Lucius confirmed, "but I have information that will
be immediately more welcome to you."
Voldemort frowned and gestured for the man to continue.
"Azkaban is ready whenever you are to free the others."
The Dark Lord felt a surge of excitement before he narrowed his
eyes at the man.
"You have been very vocal in your efforts to prevent me from freeing
them. Why now?"
"Because I have the perfect scapegoat to ensure none will suspect
the truth behind the breakout," Lucius explained confidently. "Leave
it with me, My Lord. I will handle the fallout."
Voldemort nodded appreciatively.
"Then let us not stand on ceremony," he whispered excitedly, the
sibilance in his words drawing out in anticipation.
Without preamble, he stood from the seat he had been occupying
and vanished in a plume, of thick, dark smoke.
His efforts at Christmas may not have proven to be fruitful, but this
would undoubtedly be different.
"I must say, Potter, you have certainly exceeded my expectations
already," Novak declared proudly. "We will continue when you return
in September where we will move on to some truly advanced magic.
Be on your way and enjoy your summer."
"You too, Professor," Harry returned, placing his wand in its holster
before taking his leave of the room.
The additional lessons with the man had been a boon to him, and
Harry was looking forward to resuming them.
Novak's knowledge of the Dark Arts was exceptional and Harry was
grateful to have it at his disposal.
It would be most useful to him in the coming years when he would be
faced with those who had studied them extensively.
However, no one, other than Voldemort, would have dedicated
themselves to it the same way Harry had.
His dedication to magic as a whole would be one of the few
advantages he held over most of his enemies.
Thinking of what was to come only added to his already maudlin
thoughts.
He and Alessia had spent a final evening together, had enjoyed each
other's company as they had been doing for much of the year, and
had said their goodbyes.
Harry had not expected it to be so hard to do, nor did he expect
there to be a lingering sting in his chest at the thought of not seeing
her again.
Despite the agreement they had made, he had indeed come to care
for the girl more than he knew he should have allowed himself to.
He would miss her deeply.
He already did.
Nevertheless, he entered the Main Hall for breakfast, his expression
giving nothing away to how he was truly feeling.
"There he is," Cain announced as Harry approached their table.
"Where have you been?"
"With Novak," Harry answered as he took a seat next to the
werewolf. "Not all of us are scratching our fleas in bed until breakfast
time. For a wolf, you're such a lazy shit."
"He's right," Jonas snorted.
"Maybe," Cain conceded with a shrug, "but I don't have fleas. Wait,
do hags get fleas with all the hair they have?"
Jonas shrugged.
"I've not gotten close enough to my mother to find out," he explained.
"They're not exactly the most maternal creatures. My dad took care
of me when I was a baby."
"So, you've never hugged your mother?" Ana asked curiously.
Jonas shook his head.
"Would you want to hug a hag?"
"I can't say that I would," Ana grimaced.
"Exactly," Jonas chuckled, a frown creasing his brow as he glanced
towards the door where Barkus and his usual group of lackeys had
just entered through. "I'm glad we will finally be rid of him."
Harry nodded his agreement, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"What have you done?" Lucinda sighed.
"Me? I have done nothing," Harry denied, "well, not yet."
"Harry?" Cain pressed.
"You always have to ruin my fun," Harry huffed dramatically. "Just
watch, and you will be in for a treat."
The group watched Barkus and his friends intently as they helped
themselves to their final breakfast as Durmstrang students.
It was a moment later that Barkus stood, a sudden discomfort
seemingly having taken hold of him.
Without warning, he vomited across the width of the table, covering
some of his friends.
Before the boy could compose himself however, he was suddenly
hoisted into the air where he dangled helplessly by his ankle and he
screamed.
"Is he wearing women's underwear?" Hugo gasped.
He was.
It was a final addition Harry had decided to include as a final touch of
humiliation for Barkus, though it wasn't quite over with yet.
A collective groan of disgust sounded as the boy lost control of his
bowels and excrement was sprayed over him and the table below.
The students that were seated there ran from the hall, followed by
the rest as the stench wafted throughout with many trying to not
follow suit in vomiting.
"That wasn't a treat, you bastard," Jonas gagged.
Harry merely laughed in response as the others glared at him.
He may not have been able to prove Barkus's involvement with what
had happened to Cain, and perhaps he wasn't involved at all, but
Barkus was still one of the most unpleasant people he'd had the
displeasure of meeting and he couldn't simply let him leave
Durmstrang without a parting gift.
"It was for me," Harry replied as they made it into the courtyard and
away from the awful stink Barkus had created. "Personally, I can't
think of a better way to end the year for him. A lot of shit, for a shit,"
he added with a chuckle.
The others did not seem to agree, but it served to cheer Harry up
somewhat, even if it would not lift his mood for long.
Catching sight of Alessia on the other side of the courtyard, he felt
what little joy he'd managed to create for himself dwindle.
With Daphne, he'd been able to simply move on.
Maybe it was that they had not made everything so final when they
had parted?
With Alessia, he knew what they had was at an end, and despite not
regretting a single moment he'd spent with her, he could do without
the heartache.