Donal Macmillan
“Could I do the ritual this Samhain?”
Donal looked at the boy with an arched eyebrow.
“At Hogwarts?”
The boy fidgeted in his seat, something that would have to stop.
“You cannot do a true ritual while remaining at school, the English do not think much of Samhain nowadays.”
Hogwarts may be a Scottish school under Scottish laws, but it was Englishmen who oversaw it. It was his opinion that the Scots had grown too complacent under the English rule. They still did the same rituals as the Irish, but they had learned to keep it hidden from the very English Ministry of Magic.
Harry looked defeated but nodded.
“I will fetch you and you will do the ritual on the grounds.”
Donal almost smiled at the bright smile that adorned the boy’s face.
Almost.
“I cannot believe he’s starting his fifth year, and with a girlfriend at his side too!” Sirius complained as he laid draped over his antique satin sofa, dirty shoes on his feet. He could see spots of mud collecting on the satin. Donal felt his right eye twitch.
“We should home-school him or something and he should break it off with the bird, he’s too young to already be attached!”
Donal sighed.
“I believe that Miss Dunbar and Harry have found something special in each other.”
Sirius snorted.
“His father was the same you know. Prongs fell for Lily and never looked at anyone else, it seems like my pup suffers from the same curse.”
The old wizard sometimes wondered if his great-nephew was alright in the head, twelve years with dementors would make anyone go mad. Yet when he looked into those grey eyes of his, Donal would remember that Black’s tended to go mad even without the help of dementors. Having Sirius being a bit touched in the head should not come as a surprise.
“I’ll go and write him another letter!”
The wizard left the room in a hurry.
Harry left for Hogwarts yesterday and this would be the fourth letter sent to him.
Black madness indeed.
Donal was surprised to see young Harry step into the Three Broomsticks, the lad had grown since summer and now stood at a similar height as him. The nutrition portions had done wonders to the boy’s growth since his arrival last summer.
“Are you ready lad?”
Harry nodded resolutely.
“Yes, sir.”
Harry looked exhausted as they entered the cottage. The ritual had been successful, and Donal had felt the presence of his old love only for a second, yet it was more than enough to bring comfort to his old bones. Harry had cried as he had felt his parents magic and Sirius had been quick to envelop the boy in his arms, just as stricken as his godson.
Samhain was just as beautiful as it was shattering.
“I wished they were here,” Harry murmured. Donal watched as Sirius flinched back. He had tried to talk to the man about the guilt he carried but it had done nothing but make the man close off even more.
“Why don’t you bring Harry to his room Sirius.”
The godfather led his godson to his room and Donal smiled at them.
Their bond strengthened as each day passed, a familial bond built on pure affection.
Sirius may not think that he deserved Harry, but Donal had to disagree about that.
“Was it you?”
Donal turned to the wizard who stepped out of the fireplace, it had been several hours since the ritual and the other two wizards in the cottage were soundly asleep. The old wizard has chosen to open one very old bottle of fire-whiskey. It was the one Melania had bought him when he married his Edith at age thirty. He felt that it fitted the occasion.
“You will have to be more specific, Walsh.”
His old friend took a seat on the other armchair as he summoned another glass to join the drinking.
“Everyone felt it, I have never experienced Samhain that strongly before.”
Donal smirked.
“Young Harry led the ritual tonight. I had nothing to do with it.”
Walsh coughed.
“The scrawny boy?”
“He’s not that scrawny anymore I’ll have you know!”
Walsh shook his head, looking bewildered.
“How?”
Donal looked deeply into the other wizard’s eyes.
“He felt magic even at the age of thirteen and you saw him during solstice this year, it was even greater than last year.”
The head of the Faction sighed heavily. “Yes, I did notice that.”
“The British lost someone precious, and they don’t even know it.”
Walsh poured himself another glass as he muttered.
“Yet,”
“You are still stingy about him seeing you granddaughter?” Donal smirked as he took another gulp of fire whiskey. His friend scowled.
“She is much too young to be dating.”
Donal guffawed.
“Sirius said something similar about Harry.”
The scowl grew fiercer at being likened to his great-nephew in any way. Walsh and Arcturus Black had been great enemies once upon a time. Melania had been quite tired of their long-standing feud after some 60 years of it. It had something to do with Finnish liquorice, Edith had relayed many years ago. Donal knew not the details as he had never cared enough to learn them.
“He will need to be properly trained.” Walsh suddenly said.
Dolan nodded in agreement.
“What does the Faction say?”
“They wanted to start the training this summer, but I ordered them to wait another year.”
He sighed heavily. “Thank you, the boy needed a normal summer.”
Walsh chuckled.
“You and I know very well that you would have said no, and I may be the Head of the Faction but that means nothing when it comes to you, doesn’t it?”
Donal didn’t comment on the hidden accusation, his friend had complained many a times that Donal should lead the Faction. Something that he refused. He wanted peace these last years of his life and he would have it.
He chose to ignore the slight disruption of said peace in the form of one Sirius Black and Harry Potter.
One day Donal would join his beloved but until then he would do his best to guide his sweet sister’s remaining grandchild and his so-called pup.
“I’ll fetch another bottle.”