Written in the Stars - Parting ways

Parting Ways

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.

(Break)

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.

(Break)

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.

(Break)

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.

(Break)

“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.