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Harry was having mixed feelings about this whole magic thing.
On the one hand - magic.
Something which didn't lose its luster even as time went by, the mythical surroundings never failing to draw a sense of awe out of him.
Hogwarts was more than he could have ever even dreamed of, more than any fantasy castle he could have read about - it was real.
It was hard to remember at times that he was actually waking up in this place everyday, each morning for the first few months he'd had a pang of utter relief upon waking up, seeing that he hadn't dreamed it all.
He'd also made actual friends. Even if he felt guilty now, for replacing Ron with Brian. He couldn't do anything to help Ron or his family though - all the Weasley's were gone from Hogwarts, and Harry didn't even know where they lived.
The helplessness in not being able to do anything about the situation, was the biggest blot on the otherwise magical experience Hogwarts was.
The magic of Hogwarts was not even able to compare to another kind of magic.
Friendships.
In the end, he had friends! Even if they were… More goal oriented than himself? Was that a polite way to phrase it?
No doubt Hermione would correct him for the correct phrasing if she could read minds. He shuddered briefly at the thought, glancing at the studious Gryffindor out of the corner of his eye.
As usual, she was curled up with a book. And as usual, it was likely heavier than all of his combined, with tiny neat text that made your eyes want to shrivel up and die. Harry knew better than to disturb her once she really got into a book.
Her becoming a mind reader…
If she could do that, it would be very bad indeed. She was a great friend, terrific even, but Harry wasn't blind to her more… Excessive personality traits.
He couldn't argue with his grades though, just hanging around with Hermione had forced him to focus above and beyond what he'd have done on his own, he was sure.
He didn't play around as much now, not as he used to do with Ron… Chess just didn't hold any interest if it wasn't his friend trouncing him. Even flying felt bleak now, no Weasley's around to poke fun or egg him on.
Of course, without the Weasley's they were also getting trounced, no one had been able to replace the pair as beaters.
He'd made new friends, something which still astounded him, because he knew he was just bad at making friends, either too hesitant or too headstrong, all at the wrong times.
And Brian was alright too… It's just. He wasn't Ron, which was really unfair to him. He didn't deserve to be compared like that.
But Harry couldn't help it. He still missed Ron.
If anything Brian was more like Hermione, if Hermione was too shy to speak very often. Leaving Harry as the new Ron of the group, the one reminding them to actually have fun once in a while.
Brian was, even more than Hermione - the quintessential bookworm - preferring books to socializing. Something which made Harry wonder at times how on earth the quiet boy got into Gryffindor at all.
Everything about him seemed to say Ravenclaw, down to how he liked books a lot more than people.
Apparently their fathers had been best mates, something which the shy boy had shared after Ron disappeared. Harry had been thrilled and eager to find out stories about his parents.
To find any tie to his parents, of whom he knew very little.
Even though a tiny part of him had raged that this supposed friend had certainly never checked in on Harry.
However, like with so much else, it ended in disappointment. Brian didn't know much else other than that fact, his father Remus Lupin having disappeared from his life several years before he started Hogwarts.
It was depressing how often the information he found out was so bad. His parents died. Most of his parents' friends, guess what? Dead. His godfather in Azkaban he'd found out, condemned for over forty deaths.
Although for whatever reason a lot of his information was not to be found, he'd only been able to find that much at all, thanks to Hermione and Lucas.
Harry had kept a polite tongue about Brian's dad, but inside he had wondered. His own parents had died. They had an excuse. But Brian's dad had just gone. Left him. Who could do such a thing? And how was someone like that best mates with his dad?
Everyone else was dead, or in his godfather's case, just as well. But Remus Lupin had left.
In Harry's opinion it made him just as bad as the Azkaban inmate.
He'd drawn Brian into their little group after that, their golden trio as some of the older years jokingly called them. It was better than the other nickname, Potter's bookworms…
Sometimes Harry wondered why he was in Gryffindor. The house was markedly less jovial without the Weasley twins around - almost bullying in nature at times.
Bullying was not something he was happy to see was perfectly the same, magical or muggle.
Which brought his thoughts over to the not so great things about coming into the magical world…
Snape and Quirrell were both obviously evil, and everyone just allowed it. They weren't even hiding how horrible they were.
Anyone in the muggle world acting that way would get tossed on their rear, but in the magical world it was okay…?
Sure Quirrell was finally suspended for a bit, after spending a whole semester being creepy and evil to everyone's face. It didn't give Harry much hope for the rest of this semester. For a castle with so many supposed defenses against bad things happening - it sure had a lot of bad things happening.
The Cerberus came to mind. Hagrid being a half giant raising monsters to attack the students… Whatever had blown up a classroom, and all the other minor things that kept happening.
And then there was… Lucas Greenwood.
Harry wasn't sure what to make of the other boy, but he was wary. And he definitely didn't trust him, even if he had started out liking the other boy just fine.
Something was just… Off.
He was at times too adult, at times too childish, and apparently super smart, and at times (in Harry's opinion) also super dumb. He confused the bloody hell out of Harry on a regular basis.
People spent so much time paying attention to Harry, that hardly anyone ever noticed how much he was paying attention to them.
It was weird how his fame almost made him invisible at times. How people stared, but didn't see.
Lucas certainly helped, managing to constantly draw attention in a way that brought Harry out of the limelight.
He'd helped out, which Harry appreciated. The study group as well helped him keep on top of his studies in a less nagging way than Hermione - and Lucas' tips on magic and dueling were helping Harry grow better at magic everyday.
Harry definitely found it easier to will his magic into the proper forms than thinking the complicated things Professor McGonagall wanted him to - so that Lucas had helped him with more than he'd known.
It was also nice hanging out with people from other houses, seeing how they acted and comparing it to the Gryffindors, trying to see if he himself was normal. Also trying to match Lucas to his housemates to see if it was just Hufflepuffs that were insane.
Because how had no one else noticed the other boy was just full on cracked?
He was so bloody confusing and fake, that's the word Harry had been looking for the entire time. Fake. Like he was just masquerading as a student, like he was humoring them whenever they said something he found cute.
Even when he hung around his friends, it was like something different then when Harry hung with his friends. Some unspoken seniority, that Lucas was just above them.
The way Neville would defer to him sometimes made Harry uncomfortable. One of the reasons he'd begun to distance himself a little.
The whole passing out of classes thing said enough, even if Harry tended to avoid mentioning it where he could, the subject never failing to push Hermione into a studying frenzy. Harry apparently was one of the only ones that wondered how?
Sometimes he might have wondered if being magical took away common sense - if he didn't see the same in Hermione, who never questioned the how to the same extent Harry did.
He'd seen Hermione study, and she was the smartest person he knew. And she was nowhere near ready to pass seventh grade classes. So how did Lucas do it in several classes, in one semester?
And why did everyone accept it like it just made sense!
Harry just couldn't fully trust Lucas at this point. So he'd gently nudged his friends to drop their time training with Lucas. To limit their visits to the study groups. He wasn't sure what was going on with the other boy…
But he trusted his gut.
Something was definitely messed up with that guy.
Seriously messed up.
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I don't even know where to begin to deal with the issue I'm now faced with.
I smile weakly, nodding along, as Tonks keeps blathering on about something unimportant, just filling the air with noise to try and distract me from how bad she's getting on.
The fact she isn't even noticing how fake my smile is, how worried I am, tells me a lot about her state of mind, and none of it is good.
Her chirpy pleasant attitude that she put on when I entered, breaks apart the further she has to try and maintain it after her breakdown, I don't even think she can maintain it any longer, she's probably reached a breaking point and that is what I walked in on.
I'm not in any way equipped to deal with mental illness or trauma, I'm bloody better than a normal eleven year old, fine, but I'm still no therapist.
Yet I'm left as the only one to fix this, because right now, Tonks doesn't have anyone else at Hogwarts to help her.
Not anyone I can trust anyway. And if she trusted any of them, wouldn't she have gone to them for help?
I wince as her words trail off, as her eyes grow dim, her mind seemingly not able to continue to even pretend to care anymore.
Professor Haywood is her friend, but with how the year has gone, I'm extremely wary about trusting a professor, especially with her interest in me.
Sure, it could be entirely because I'm also highly interested in magical history, just like her. But I just don't trust it. Even if she's young for a Professor, I'm eleven, almost twelve… She should not be as friendly as she is, right? It's weird.
So trusting her with Tonks, when for all intents and purposes they seemed to have lost contact after Professor Haywood graduated…
She must have known something was wrong with Tonks, this all can't have started this year - and she didn't reach out, didn't help before.
No, I'm not putting any faith in that, I'll deal with it myself. I resolve myself to this avenue, especially as I see Tonks go completely silent, not able to even pretend to hold a conversation anymore.
I eye Tonks, a plan forming in my mind, I'm not a therapist, but I'm a dab hand at magic and rituals, and a budding Legilimency adept. Surely I can craft something to help her?
And a letter to her parents… I need to let them know what's going on, I can't believe they're completely ignorant.
Yet… Tonks has received no help that I could see, and that horribly toxic relationship with Ophelia that seemed to have set this all off to this level, must have been at least tacitly approved by Tonks parents - because they've apparently been around each other since year one.
I'll send them a letter… But I'll still go ahead and try and help her myself. Counting on them, when they've let it get this bad in the first place… No, If this world has shown anything, it's that I can't afford to trust too easily, I think, biting my nail as I watch Tonks briefly speak up again, describing a Quidditch match from her fourth year, her eyes somewhat glassy, I don't think she even recognizes where she is right now, just… Talking.
She's so out of it she's not even recognizing as her morphing slowly transforms her vibrant look to a more mousy, dark look, her hair flopping lifelessly in thin strands, it's like watching a human full of vibrancy and life, transform into a corpse in front of me.
Right… It's partly my fault for not doing anything to help before now, I got to fix this. I think, standing up, grabbing Tonks by the elbow and jostling her gently. “Tonks, let's go to the Undercroft, I think we can do some great magic together.”
Fuck school, fuck classes, I'm bloody doing this…
Detention isn't the end of the world.
Well… As long as it's not back with Quirrell.
Or with Professor Sinistra who apparently is going to perform a ritual that will kill me if I go to it, (still need to figure out what the hell?) Or Professor Haywood and her suspicious interest in me… Professor Snape, who likes mind rape a little too much…
I should not have this many professors that are risky to be near, it's a damn school! Bloody hell the magical world sucks huge giant balls!
Tonks blinks slowly, eyes becoming more focused, “Lucas…?” She murmurs, turning her head almost mechanically my way, in an eerie way that sends shivers down my spine, “Yes… Lucas?”
“Tonks, let's get you to the Undercroft, hmm? Bother Sebastian a bit, study some cool magic, what do you say?” I say with forced cheerfulness, tugging gently at her elbow, trying to get her moving.
Tonks nods, allowing herself to be pulled up, her face entirely too slack, she can't even fake it anymore. Either that or she trusts me enough to allow herself to break apart fully in front of me now, which makes me feel so much worse, because I have in no way been a good enough friend to have her trust me so.
I gently lead her with me, thankful that the Undercroft is so close to the training room that it won't take long to traverse the distance. The fugue state Tonks has sunk into would not go over well with any of the professors, and I find myself unwilling to trust that they can even deal with it. I've certainly seen no sign of them doing anything to help Tonks, even through all the Ophelia garbage, and whatever the hell happened to have her disappear from Hogwarts.
Of course that is the time Hermione bloody Granger has to be randomly walking down the corridor.
By herself at least, but still, why the bloody hell is she here, of all places?
How am I this unlucky?
Why? Merlin, why? Was I horrible in a past life? Is that why this kind of shit keeps bloody happening? I think, regretting my actions even as I perform them, pulling my wand out and firing off a stunning spell, intoning it quietly. Hermione's eyes only having time to widen minutely, her mouth already open on its way to call out a greeting.
I wince as she topples to the floor, some books falling out of her hands, Oh, I'm going to be paying for that… I can't help but think.
Perhaps she had been coming to ask for more training, the trio had tapered off a bit.
She sure picked a bloody shit time to decide to do so…
Tonks doesn't even notice, staring mindlessly ahead, tears running down her face without her notice, her mind lost elsewhere again.
I have studied enough on the mind due to needing Legilimency to fix my own, I'm now well aware how dangerous any mental illness or heavy depression is for someone who has the capability to alter reality through their will.
It's really given me a whole different outlook on some of the things I had read once. Perhaps Bellatrix Lestrange, once Bellatrix Black, never stood a chance. Not once the pressure of her family, the war and the Death Eaters all pressed in at once - on a teenage girl with a predisposition for mental illness in the so-called Black curse.
Not so much a curse, I suspect, as much as a genetic predisposition. One too many times fucking a cousin perhaps.
With magic, a broken mind might be a more powerful mind, more easily able to bring magic into reality, to alter what they wish - but as Bellatrix had shown, it did not make for a witch that is capable of using her mind for anything else then destruction.
I will not allow Tonks to get to that point.
Entering the Undercroft, I gently steer Tonks into one of the armchairs. I'm not surprised that she simply sits down, staring at nothing, seemingly lost.
I march over to the portraits, ignoring Sebastian who - props to him - actually seems worried about Tonks state. I only have eyes for Ominis Gaunt however.
I no longer can afford to wait and appease him, slowly building up some measure of trust.
I need resources now, not whenever he pleases.
“Release the library to me.” I order him sharply, gesturing back towards Tonks, “You've kept me from it to prevent harm in your view, well right now keeping me from it is causing harm, she needs my help.”
Ominis shook his head, a pitying expression on his face, “And why can't the professor's help? Wizards and witches with no doubt centuries of experience between them?” He queries, already ready to shoot down my request.
I grit my teeth, keeping back my explosive response, knowing Ominis won't be convinced by bluster or threats. I take a deep breath, before I continue in as calm of a voice as I can manage, “That's all well and good, if the Professor's haven't already cocked up almost everything this year…” Before Ominis can reply, I push further. “And that's beside the point anyway, what exactly will her life look like?”
“Pardon me?” Ominis asks, confused by the direction I'm taking it in, which is much better than outright refusal.
Sometimes just throwing someone off balance can win an argument.
I bite down on the opportunity with gusto, “How were mental health issues handled in your time, Ominis, Sebastian?” I ask, determinedly pushing forward without waiting for an answer, the small frown on his face and furrowing of Ominis brows, leading me to believe I'll have better success with this angle. “If she gets official help, she can kiss her dreams goodbye, nowhere will take her after that, and the vaunted Hogwarts Professors will cheerfully kick her out at the end of the year without actually solving anything, because that's what they do.”
“He's not entirely wrong on that, Ominis my friend.” Sebastian says, an unusually serious countenance to him.
But then he really enjoys Tonks' company. And probably not only because of her habit of appeasing his dirty mind.
Ominis is silent for thirty seconds, before speaking up slowly, as if unsure of his own words, “I can… See some points in what you are saying, Lucas. But you are not in any way better qualified to help, have you not made enough mistakes when it comes to dealings with the mind?”
Sebastian whistles lowly, “Low blow, Ominis, low blow mate.”
I keep my anger in check, because he's not entirely wrong. “Surprisingly I agree with you, I'm not qualified.” I say, before gesturing at Tonks, who's still sitting unresponsive before our argument, “Leaving her alone in her head right now is not something I can do. So I will either attempt to help her without the resources to maybe succeed, or help her anyway because I won't leave her to suffer on her own!”
Ominis splutters, even as Sebastian claps his hands and chortles out, “How Slytherin of you, Lucas, maybe you're finally learning, eh?”
“That is nonsense! You're asking me to help you in this matter or you'll purposefully harm the both of you?” Ominis manages to get out, his face as shocked as I've ever seen.
“I won't leave her alone to face this, you've told me what happens to people whose minds break, or suffer through severe enough mental trauma - their magic can turn against them, or end up feeding delusions and hallucinations. I will not allow it!” I growl out, desperation ringing out through my voice.
“Even if I allow you to access the resources of the Undercroft that have been held back, you have no guarantee you'll succeed.” Ominis warned, looking like he's swallowed something particularly unpleasant.
“You've said it yourself, you've never seen anyone able to handle rituals and divination like I have.” I say, eyes hard as I stare his portrait down, “Let me try.” My voice breaks slightly as I default to begging, “Please, Ominis!”
“....On your own head it is.” Ominis mutters, before speaking in parseltongue, the sibilant hissing coming out sounding almost like a chant, as it reverberates around the Undercroft.
The wards around the more esoteric and illegal tomes in the library flash, as the lingering feeling of death in the room vanishes, the wards no longer keeping me out.
“Hang on, Tonks, I'll find a way.” I tell her, before hurrying over to dig through the many ritual tomes.
Finally getting to access the books on Legilimency and high level Divinations, although there isn't much of the last one.
The longer she's stuck sinking into her own head, the more risk she's facing of not managing to get out on her own.
Or breaking completely, becoming a caricature of herself - a new Bellatrix Lestrange.
I didn't step in when Ophelia left, when I knew she needed someone, I decided to stay out of it. More concerned with my own selfish goals.
I decided she could handle it herself, left her alone to spiral further, only giving minimal effort in all the times she sought me out.
And she sought me out a lot. A desperate plea for any kind of friend or help, perhaps. It had always been odd how she attached to me.
For all that she's helped me with, for the support she's given me.
Especially with Pettigrew.
I owe her this.
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Hours later,
If I wasn't in the middle of a bit of a time crunch, I could have curled under a blanket and spent weeks with these books.
It was utterly fascinating reading, even if I sometimes had to stop and translate the very old English in some of them.
It also showed just how much actual knowledge had been hidden away by the Ministry of Magic during the ages.
Rituals were not a common thing amongst the magical populace anymore, even to the point of being associated solely with the evil wizards sacrificing people.
History did bring up the fact that early magical societies practiced almost solely ritual magic at first. Something I've read many times while I studied magical history for my tests, and just for curiosity's sake, as I always love learning about it.
But these books… They mention how they did what they did, something notably absent in any historical records the Ministry allowed to be published, or kept publicly now.
No doubt the Department of Mysteries and many Ancient and Noble houses had the knowledge tucked away.
One of the many ways where Muggleborns could never catch up, knowledge wasted, hidden away in libraries where fat purebloods couldn't even be assed to crack open and enjoy them.
Which does make me wonder if Ominis is the actual source of all these books. Because who else could stock this library so well? And the Gaunts did end up destitute and without owning anything of note within just a few decades of Ominis walking the halls of Hogwarts - Ominis who disliked his family and their dark history.
Dislike is probably too simple of a word to encompass his feelings regarding his family.
Something to ask one day, when Ominis is less prickly…
I gently close the book I have been reading, a treatise on ancient Celtic rituals, a read that clarified for me that it is possible to do what I wish. Kind of.
Not safely, unfortunately.
Rituals back then personified the saying of - be careful what you wish for.
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You were dealing with the primordial powers of nature and magic. There just isn't a way to make it completely safe.
And there's always a cost.
The more you ask for, the more you pay. And if you want anything done properly, you need to use a magic number. Three would have to do, I would need to dip into actual human sacrifices to do seven or thirteen - an obvious no.
I glance over at Tonks, who's beginning to stir out of her malaise, but still holds that broken look in her eyes. Still not back together enough yet to once again fake that everything is okay.
Am I willing to pay a cost?
Yes.
After she's helped me as much as she's had. After I ignored her plight selfishly thinking it wasn't my problem…
Yes.
I owe her as much, and I can't keep going on hyper focused like I have been, moving forward in magic and life without thinking of the human cost. If I ignore this, how long until I ignore something wrong with another of my friends. Until I sink so deep into magic…
That I come out as Voldemort 2: Divine Reckoning.
I don't consider myself a sacrificing hero of prophecy like Harry Potter, I'm too selfish I think, to ever go that far.
But I am still a Hufflepuff, and I'm loyal to my friends. I can do this, and I have an advantage most of those ritual makers of the past did not.
An intuitive grasp of Divination.
Something which should not only help me make the ritual go smoother, but should allow me to actually find my ways to the optimal outcome.
My hand lays down on the almost illegible cover over the oldest Divination book in the Undercroft library. The desire to take this book for my personal collection is immense, I've never read anything like it.
If anything, all my efforts so far have been wading in the kiddie pool of divination.
Ancient Wizards and Witches went much much further.
Albeit many of their efforts were what is definitely considered dark or outright black, requiring human sacrifices.
I am not quite willing to go that far. But they didn't only have records of those kinds of divination rituals, there were more personal ones.
The ingredients were extremely simple.
My blood. My magic.
I needed a part of myself, to offer a part of myself to fate, to for a moment have the ability to peer through the curtain of everything. Something would irrevocably change, if I went through with this, something in me.
It is a sacrifice above all, you can't get past this point. To go so far as to reach into what would almost be Tonks soul - to help her recover or move past whatever trauma is slowly killing her, you can't perform such deep magic without paying a price.
The fact it's being done for - in a way, love - the love of a friend at least, and the sacrifices I make for that, should limit the consequences for myself.
Everything I read said it wouldn't be lethal, or take my magic, so I feel I am willing to take a leap of faith. Divination has not steered me wrong so far. I can survive anything that's not losing my magic or life.
I can get over any price, I'm sure.
I've read everything I could find, thrice over. It's time to begin.
I gingerly get up from the armchair I have been reading in, stretching protesting muscles, it must be halfway through the night by now, and there is no doubt I'll see detention for a while once I leave the Undercroft.
I glance at Tonks again, it will be worth it. I think, determined.
I clear off a space in front of the portraits, using my magic to clean it until there are no contaminants, muttering under my breath as I charm a simple ward around us to deter dust and such from entering the space during the ritual.
Without runes to hold it, it isn't going to last long, but that's fine, I only need it to last long enough.
Tonks armchair is at the very south pole of the circle, while I will occupy the north. With my wand, I burn the words I've decided on for my plea into the floor around the inside edge of my self imposed circle.
Summoning spells brings me the candles and assorted ritual tools. Because magic thrives on the story. For this ritual, candles don't actually do anything - but the older the book, the more they agree.
Magic evolves through stories.
There's a reason magical societies, magical worlds, so often default to young plucky lost princes slaying the big bad and saving the kingdom/country/castle.
The story has been told enough it's come alive, the flow of the river of magic - so to speak - so often taking its path due to how strongly the stories came alive in society's consciousness.
It's why some stories repeat so much, half of Disney's stories literally come from these, and by telling them - sink the magic deeper into our lives, ensuring they'll happen again, and again.
I briefly imagine one day telling Harry that his suffering and destined face off with Lord Voldemort, likely came about because for hundreds of years people really liked stories about beaten little orphans destined to rise above it all, become a hero, and beat the big bad.
Which is likely how he survived the killing curse. Due to the story. Not some mother's love or whatever Dumbledore preaches.
In a way I'm counting on some assistance in the same manner as another cheaty advantage for myself.
Sacrificing oneself in some manner to save the fair lady is part of a lot of stories through the ages, and should if I'm reading these books right, aid me in my cause.
The fact I'm cheating should hopefully not overly affect anything, as long as I'm still sacrificing something - I'm still sticking to the story.
And magic will not care about the difference of saving Tonks from a dragon - or mental trauma.
At least I hope so.
Merlin, it just struck me how much of the magic I've performed this year has been by flying by the seat of my pants and praying I don't explode…
“You are not a Hufflepuff.” Sebastian announces suddenly, as I stand in my cleared off space, surrounded by candles and ritual ornaments, preparing myself.
“What?” I ask him irritably, this is all hard enough, and to be honest, a little bit scary. I don't need any flak right now.
“We need a new house just for you, not even Gryffindors are this insane, you know? I guess the loyalty is Hufflepuffian,” He acknowledges with a grimace, before continuing, “But you're seriously going through with this, Lucas? An ad hoc ritual based on thoughts and prayers is madness, utter madness!” He said, unusually serious, his face grim.
“If anyone can do it, it's me.” I say, the kernel of doubt within me is growing, as my own doubts and fears are fed by the portraits assertions.
Ominis, who hasn't said a word since opening up the wards for me, speaks up. “I applaud your willingness to assist a friend. I have to add my warnings to Sebastian's however, although mine stem from actual knowledge.”
Sebastian glares at the other portrait, “Ominis! Now is not the time for you to finally figure out how to sass me correctly!”
“Say what you mean, Ominis, I don't have time for mind games, I have a date with fate.” I say determinedly.
“That's exactly it.” Ominis lets out with a huff, “Fate, you're gambling with fate, do you have any idea how ridiculously dangerous that actually is?”
“I've read the books.” I say shortly, dismissively. Ominis has barely been willing to help, I should have figured he'd do everything to talk me out of it now as well.
Ominis sighs explosively, “Books! Everything between the sun and earth can't be covered in mere pages, Lucas. Magic is alive. An errand thought of yours could be enough to send this cockamamie ritual somewhere completely different then your intentions.” He covers his face with one hand, looking pained, “I can guarantee it's not going to work as you wish it, Lucas. Magic doesn't work on a spreadsheet, not when you're dealing with primordial forces, this will not go as you think!”
“Is it likely to kill me?” I ask, having already gone through the risk factors, deeming it acceptable.
Ominis splutters, “You're talking like simple death is the worst you could encounter!”
Sebastian crosses his arms and leans against the border of his portrait, “Death is pretty bad, though…”
“You know nothing!” Ominis snarls at Sebastian, hand clenching into a fist as he slams it at the side of his portrait uselessly, “When dealing with such as fate you could end up tying your entire bloodline to a task, end up destined for some far off impossible goal, or simply cease to be as fate puppets you towards a task having been given access. You don't know what will happen!” He says insistently, “Lucas, this goes dangerously close to soul magic!”
I take a deep breath, understanding that Ominis is in his own way, trying to look out for me.
“Silencio.”
I just can't afford to listen, not right now. I've already decided on my path. Magic hasn't steered me wrong before, I refuse to believe it will puppet me now, not while I'm doing a selfless act for a friend.
If magic is alive, if magic thrives on stories. It will not punish me unduly for this.
Merlin I hope I'm right…
If not? Well I've already lived once before right? Tonks is only in her first life - and probably only life - she deserves some help.
Having silenced the portraits, I levitate a bundle of a herb called Angelica, sometimes also called Archangel. Its spiritual components are supposed to be of protection and healing, perfect for the occasion. It's also tied to courage and vision. Further tying it into my quest today.
“Incendio.”
I set it on fire, letting it drop to the ground, the burning incense suffusing the circle, not able to leave due to the ward keeping contaminants out, keeping those inside, in.
I grasp the ritual knife and as calmly as I'm able, I cut a large gouge in my left arm, using my wand to spell the blood all around the circle I've made - specifically over the words I've burned into the floor.
“I need to see the path forward to protect and heal.” I mumble, focusing, the candles light up simultaneously, flaring up brightly, taking on a reddish tint.
The smoke I'm breathing in feels like it's strengthening me, even as the bloodloss weakens me.
“Let me see the only way through, the wisest path to harmony.” I chant, swirling my wand, drawing the blood to the north and south of the circle, signifying my own position, and Tonks, brushing past each of the words on the floor.
I take a deep trembling breath, the blood almost vibrating. “I give part of me, w-willingly to fate, so that it may lead me to what I seek!”
“Let me divine the truth from the lies, let part of me protect part of her!”
“I sacrifice my essence so that you may judge me true, I sacrifice part of me so that you may weigh the price, I sacrifice myself thrice by vowing to take on the pain and the cost of that which I wish to heal!”
The blood is shining now, and I feel my neck moving on its own, sense more than feel, an unearthly light shining out of my eyes, my head turning to meet Tonks.
The divination part of the ritual kicks in, thousands of visions flowing through me, thousands of ways I could enter Tonks mind, and fuck her up worse, destroy her mind. Thousands of ways I could help just a little, share some of the burden, heal some of the pain.
And one way where I could alleviate it all.
One path forward that would help her!
There!
I am no longer in control, the ritual having taken over, the magic moving on its own. The divination has performed its purpose, finding the one true way to heal Tonks right now, right here at the cost I can afford to bring forward.
Part of me feels relief, knowing that I was right, that I can do this. The other feels fear, having no control of what comes next, having no idea what the cost is going to be to change her fate in such a way.
Healing her from her pain, disrupting the natural order of things.
There will be a cost…
Between one second and the next, something not me uses me to peer through Tonks eyes, and then I'm there, along for the ride.
Memories…
I feel it…
I feel the pain, multiple hands, cruel grasping, multiple bodies, being violated, the horror, the visceral feeling of wrongness, uncleanliness, of never being right again, shattering, breaking, wanting to die.
The anger, the hate, watching only friend, love? Sister? Lover? Being dragged before me, tortured, violated, worse than me, so much worse.
Over and over.
I run out of tears, my hands try to rip my throat apart, but they're spellbound.
Again and again, she suffers. Because of me.
Her eyes burning only with hatred.
For them. For me? Me? Me! ME!!
Me, my fault, hatred of me, must be, I hate myself. My fault.
My fault.
The Slytherin seventh years laugh, their jeers sinking into my mind, the names imprinting. Slut. Whore, Beast, Plaything. Abomination.
I add my own to the chorus. Useless. Failure. Weak! Tears flow uselessly, she's screaming, she's screaming and it's all my fault! Why did I listen? Why did I think we could take them!?
Taken from Hogsmeade like a pair of useless girls, where is my strength!?
No one even knows we're gone! Because I'm a fool, my fault!
I hate hate hate! All of them, they're monsters, they need to PAY!
My bindings are coming loose, how, why? My rage, my hatred, I morphed further than ever before… Who cares why! My wand, I scramble for my wand!
“Avada Kedavra!” A hateful voice screams.
It's mine? Mine? I…
Sickly green flashes, my hatred following it to its target. I… I…
Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.
I drop my wand limply, Ophelia kills the other two when they come for me, as I stand useless. I killed….
I…
Ophelia trying to make me listen. I can't.. I can't… I'm hurt, I'm hurting so bad, I killed!
I did that, I killed, with the killing curse, I'm a monster!
My soul… Have I killed my soul?
Her wand pointing my way, what? I stare at her with incomprehension as she mutters, “Imperio.”
Everything fades.
….
I come back, staring down at the graves, I recognize my surroundings, the forbidden forest.
Ophelia…
Hugging me, crying, apologizing.
Needed to do it, needed to escape before found, hide the evidence.
Excuses made to teachers, no one noticed.
Students will have run away, she says. We're safe.
No one will know she says. We're safe.
I know… I…
I know. I'll always know. I'll never be safe.
I'm a monster. I'm weak, I caused this. Never safe.
Ophelia…
She needs me. She's crying. She's alone without me.
I need to stay strong, help Ophelia.
I.. I can pretend. If it's for her.
I can pretend I'm a good person.
I can pretend I deserve to live after dragging us into that, after becoming a murderer, after making her kill, too weak to finish my own job.
After going through…. That.
Disgust.
Hate myself.
I should just have died.
Ophelia deserves better.
No… She needs me…
As long…
As long as I have her…
….
I go through more memories, being directed towards each pertinent one with supernatural ability, far beyond my own skills at Legilimency would have been capable of.
Learning even as I go, my own skill strengthening.
Memories of Tonks beginning to self harm, always able to hide it before Ophelia could catch on.
Reckless casual sex, just looking to be harmed, until Ophelia put a stop to it, declaring they were both together.
Their relationship is highly dependent on each other, but also in a way… Seemingly Ophelia's way of looking after Tonks, in a very unhealthy and broken way.
She, too, was more messed up than she knew.
Memory after memory of Tonks keeping up a facade, her parents knowing something is wrong, but unable to crack through. Tonks becomes a better and better actor, her metamorphic powers assisting her.
Joking, smiling, keeping up her old self’s dream of being an Auror - all to ensure she doesn't ruin Ophelia's healing.
Doing it all for Ophelia. Never thinking of herself.
Acting out, because Ophelia acts out.
Having sex, because Ophelia is in the mood.
Beating up a firstie, because Ophelia was angry at his disrespect and the potential teasing and flirting consequences from their peers on Tonks frail psyche.
Over and over, Ophelia…
Who left.
The morning when Tonks realized, I can feel the pain in the memory, the absolute realization that she was alone, that she had failed to keep Ophelia happy.
That she could not make up for her mistake, that she failed again - it broke through whatever was left of the act. It began cracking, her facade beginning to fail completely.
The memories fade, and I brace myself, fully understanding where the ritual is heading.
I have offered to heal her pain, take it away. Offered a sacrifice.
I'm suddenly very glad for the soundproofing as the feelings, the pain, the everything… Begins the slow march of allowing my sacrifice to take effect, my screams echoing across the space.
Starting with the first memory, I'll take on all the pain, I'll feel everything that happened to her, moving on to every cut she gave herself, all her shame, guilt, self hatred, I'll experience it all one by one.
My fingers bleed as I scratch at the floor, pain above anything I've felt taking me down to the ground, my body taking a punishment I don't even have the physical parts to feel, yet I feel it deeply into my very soul.
Had I known precisely what would happen, I wouldn't have been strong enough to ask for this…
One by one, those memories are dulled for Tonks, as I experience them like they were happening to me, taking over the feelings, the guilt, the shame, the pain. Leaving her with only the knowledge, none of the pain and feelings from the memories.
I claw at the ground, tossing my wand away so I don't break it, it's my last consciously able action before it all takes over completely, and anything but pleading for mercy disappears from my mind all together.
My voice would grow hoarse begging for mercy, and there would be none.
I could only keep one thought in mind.
I asked for this. And it will save her.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ
Hours later, Undercroft.
I come to, feeling something on my face, my hand moving numbly to move it away. Geroff!
Tonks grasps my hand in her own, pulling it away, dabbing at my face with a wet cloth with her other hand, being incredibly gentle and slow.
I can feel the wrappings around my hands, she's wrapped my hands… Why? I think, still confused
I look at her, feeling fuzzy still, confused. “Crying?” I ask her, my tongue heavy, almost stumbling over the word, my eyes catching onto the fresh tear tracks on her face.
“No cry, fixed it…” I mumble, stiffening as I feel an echo of pain reverberating through me.
“You're impossible and I'm going to heal you all up so I can beat you within an inch of your life!” Tonks sniffles, looking relieved to see me awake. “You shouldn't have done that, no one should do that for someone else, no one!”
I could say that there's hardly one percent of magical who could even think to perform that kind of divination aided ritual, but my tongue feels too heavy to say that many words.
Merlin, I'm lucky I didn't choke on it or bite it off…
“Had to.” I struggle out, my body feeling like it's been wrung through, or run over by a herd of hippogriffs. “You… Need help.” I manage to force out through clenched teeth. The pain is still there, lingering. I want to vomit, but I have nothing left in me.
Pretty sure I did that a lot. Since I'm not smelling it, or covered in it. Tonks must have already taken care of the mess.
Tonks sniffles again, squeezing my hand tightly, “You aren't a baby raven anymore, you're a stupid stinky Gryffindor! No one else would do what you did, I… I remember it, but it's like I'm reading about it in a book…” Her face has a complicated expression on it, even as a lone tear streaks down her cheek, “For the first time in a long time, I feel like me, again.” She cries, holding my hand so tightly that it hurts, but I don't pay much attention.
Everything hurts anyway.
“Good… That is good.” I breathe out, something within me easing a little. If I had known exactly what happened and what I would suffer, I doubt I would have so easily taken it on, as shitty as that makes me feel.
“It's not shitty!” Tonks scolds me, “If you had willingly chosen to go through what I did… I don't even know what I would do to you for doing something that stupid, but it would be told as a cautionary tale for the entire magical world!” With the teary eyed glare she's shooting me, I'm pretty sure she's completely serious.
I nod feeling somewhat sheepish, before we both freeze, coming to the same conclusion at the same time.
Tonks speaks first, nibbling on her lower lip, “Ah, you didn't happen to say that out loud, did you?” She asked, eyes wide.
I wince, thinking, No I didn't. Seeing her take it in, understanding my thoughts.
Oh, this is going to take some getting used to…
Tonks sags slightly, “Ah, so the feelings I'm getting an echo of isn't from me…” She has tears in her eyes again now, looking horrified, “Oh, Lucas…” She cries.
She's understanding it more now, what I've gone through. What I'm still feeling an echo of. What my soul will likely ache through for a while yet going forward. Part of the sacrifice I made.
I squirm uncomfortably, well aware I have pain in parts that don't actually exist on me. Magic, gotta love it. A powerful feeling of shame briefly overtakes me, making it hard for me to breathe, before I push through it, determined to reassure Tonks, “It's not real, it's just… Like a dream.” I lie.
She gives a wet chuckle, wiping at her eyes, abandoning the wet cloth, “You know I can tell you're lying right?” She says, grimacing, “I can feel where you hurt, even if it doesn't make any sense.”
I grimace as well, not exactly well pleased with this particular sacrifice, “So you can tell what I'm feeling and what I'm thinking? That's going to get old real fast.” I understand parts of my sacrifice now, at least. Pain, and Privacy, although what's the third one?
There will be one. Because I asked for something thrice, and needed to sacrifice thrice for the full effect of my ritual to come into play. You don't cheat magic at its due. Not when fate is in play.
Especially not when the things I learned from tapping so deep into Divination, would allow me to finally remove my obliviations, my knowledge and skill in Legilimency skyrocketing by having a primordial force puppet me and show me how shits done.
I might have done the ritual just for that.
I start, giving Tonks a guilty look.
She smiles, although it's a sad one, “Maybe baby raven still fits, you knowledge demon.” She teases gently, before sniffling again, “I don't know what I did to deserve this… I can't… I can't even understand why I acted like I did, why I made the choices I did. Looking back without the emotions attached…” She trails off, looking even sadder.
I struggle up into a sitting position, hugging her even though something in me protests the movements vigorously. “Don't get stuck in the past, I saw it, you didn't do anything wrong, if anything Ophelia mishandled everything.”
Even if I can't really blame her either. For all that she acted composed most of the time - she is obviously just as broken inside.
Tonks grimaces, “Don't take the blame away from me, I got us into that situation, no matter how it ended and what came from it, I'm just as big a part of the blame for how Ophelia turned out. How cold she got…” She shakes her head, “I don't blame her for leaving, I just wish I could help her like you helped me…”
I immediately nix that idea, “I have an affinity for this kind of magic obviously, something that has borne out from several rituals I've attempted. Don't even think you can do something similar for similar effects, it would have a completely different outcome!”
Tonks pouts, but it looks more melancholy than anything, “You're the expert… I keep forgetting you're only eleven.”
Shit.
Double shit.
Stop thinking about it!
Lucas shut the fuck up in your head you idiot!
Tonks eyes widens dramatically and she looks at me with her mouth gaping wide open. “I think I need to figure out how to not always hear your thoughts.” Her voice is slightly incredulous as she takes it all in. Having obviously caught on to my most obvious secret, whatever Occlumency defenses I have not mattering in the face of our divination powered bond.
There's silence between us for a few minutes as I try and think of ways to not think of things.
That, it turns out, is not easy.
“Still… Reincarnation, huh?” She laughs suddenly, “You absolute jerk!” She slaps my shoulder lightly, “No wonder you're making us all look like pathetic losers!”
“I still had to work for it all.” I say sullenly, wondering if I could get a refund, and maybe get some more physical sacrifices, like losing a leg or something, I can totally rock a Mad-Eye Moody style peg leg.
Shit, Moody got me back to thinking about Tonks, abort abort.
Tonks blushes slightly, gaining a teasing edge to her lips, “Do I want to know why the words Tonks and Porn both flashed through your mind?”
Pink elephants, pink elephants, think only of pink elephants! I chant.
Tonks giggles, covering her mouth with one hand. I can't help but think that despite my humiliation, it's a lot better that she's laughing, then crying.
“Okay, we really have to work on limiting this thing.” She says, still giggling slightly.
“I can deal with it.” I say stubbornly. All in all, one person that I already have a good friendship with knowing things isn't too bad. With how the ritual worked, she should be as protected as me when it comes to mind arts now.
Part of the whole I take her pain and attachment to her bad memories - she gets my protection and security.
Now I hadn't planned for her to have a direct line into my head, one obviously completely one sided on her side. But I can handle it.
All things considered, it isn't the worst outcome. I wince as I move a little bit too much. This metaphysical pain and how long it's going to stick around is another problem but one I can deal with.
Tonks gives me a lopsided grin, “You say that now, but I for sure don't want to know what you get up to when puberty hits…”
I stare at her incomprehensibly, before I begin to blush as Tonks makes a very recognizable motion with her hand.
“R-rigth, find a way to let you choose when to pop in my head, definitely a priority.” I agree, getting a tinkling laugh out of her.
I can tell the difference already, the always underlining harshness or something like it, that always had been under the surface, is gone.
The laugh is free, happy, and completely her.
Despite everything.
I know I did good here.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ
I was of course an idiot.
We got detention etc, no problem.
But a day later I got a shock and surprise.
Because I had still ended up sending an owl to Tonks parents after I performed the ritual, and now I was paying for that decision.
Because they had both come to Hogwarts to check up on their daughter.
And Tonks told them everything!
The consequences of clearing out a girl's fears - she trusted in her parents to help again, spilling the entire story to Andromeda and Ted.
Well, her story and what I did to fix it. Not the whole reincarnation thing.
Thankfully she was leaving it alone, not bothering me with questions. Likely feeling that I am uncomfortable sharing that part of my life.
I had never intended to share it. Still wouldn't to anyone else, not even to Tonks if she hadn't found out in this manner.
If only I could stop thinking about it whenever I thought of it. Easy right?
Tonks kept shooting me amused looks as I kept panicking every time my mind turned towards things I didn't want her to know.
Honestly, some Tonks fiction I'd read before was small potatoes compared to what I knew about the Death Eaters and the like.
Right… Stop thinking about that.
Wait, why am I being hugged?
I squirm as Andromeda hugs me tightly again, I had been sure we were over this part.
“Mom, you're making him uncomfortable.” Tonks says, an amused smile playing on her lips
I don't need to be a mind reader to know she's enjoying this.
Andromeda huffs, refusing to let go, “After what you told us he's done, I'm hugging him until the stuffing leaks out.”
Ted chuckles, as I send pleading eyes his way. “Son, you better just go with it, as far as we're concerned you're part of the family now.”
Tonks grins, “I always wanted a little brother!” She chirps, looking very smug.
I definitely never thought of you as a sister, I think at her, irritably.
If anything Tonks just looks even more amused, her top swelling slightly as she morphs behind her parents back, waggling her eyebrows at me.
I give her an unimpressed glare, I don't even have the hormones to care about that. I think snidely.
Tonks still just grins at me, looking happier than I've ever seen her, just basking in the presence of her family.
Wait, what? My mind screeches to a halt as I catch on to what Andromeda and Ted are talking about while I had the stare off with Tonks.
“You can't be serious?” I blurt out.
Andromeda grasps me by the chin, her eyes fierce as she gets down on my level, “You saved my daughter through means I'm not sure anyone but me and Ted would have been willing to go through, as far as I'm concerned, you're mine.” She said definitively, shocking me by leaning in and kissing my forehead gently, “Don't worry, Ted and I will take care of the paperwork.”
“Tonks, help!” I say, not entirely opposed to the idea of living with the Tonkses instead of the orphanage, but definitely getting some possessive Black sister vibes from Andromeda right now.
“As your official big sister, I feel like my proper task in this situation is to say, sucks to suck.” Tonks says with laughter in her voice. Ted coughing with his mouth covered by his hand, no doubt hiding a grin as well.
“Be nice to your brother, Dora.” Ted says, sending her into a fit of giggles.
“Yeah be nice to me!” Tonks said. Into my mind, telepathically.
Just wonderful.
I look at them with betrayal, as Andromeda tucks me further into her bosom, hugging me tightly, “You'll get used to them my dear.” She says easily.
Tonks looks so happy, and it's not like this is a bad situation for me, pretty ideal actually. I sigh, allowing myself to fall into the hug properly.
The tears and recriminations of the start of this meeting are all long done with, as Tonks shouts, “Family hug!” And joins us, a chuckling Ted following along.
I can't help a small smile, it feels… Nice. Despite the soul deep pain that's still wracking me, this feels nice.
And seeing Tonks so happy is definitely worth it all.
I've made a positive change to the world.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ