The Night Culmination

Gerard had spent the previous weeks talking to his friends and trying to understand what must have happened, all those years ago, to trigger Melissa Neri and make her kill seven people.
Eight, Gerard always specified. Because, that night, she'd been on the verge of killing eight people, Gerard one of them, she just hadn't succeeded.

Inés was going through all the books in the library, trying to come up with curses, counter-curses, sacrificial spells, and everything one would need to know to have the basics of the complicated curses and spells in mind. Maybe, she said, amongst some of them, there would be some kind of sacrifice for which one would need seven people.

Or, as Gerard told her, eight.

That day, they were having one one of the final lessons of the year with Professor Cailloux. He looked a little less sad -- he actually had a little smug smile on his face.

"I know that expression," Charline whispered to her twin Jeannette. "He must be in love."

"He already was," Filibert couldn't help but spill the secret. "And he wasn't being liked back. That was why he was sad."

"Well, it seems now she likes him back," Jeannette commented wisely.

Gerard arched an eyebrow, and couldn't help but make a gagging sound. First of all, Tristam Cailloux and the Queen were a thing???

And second, love brought him back some memories, like that kiss he'd almost shared with Anatole. Even though the days when he found the Prefect annoying were not too far from his mind, he also could not deny it -- he was in love with Anatole. Yep, he pretty much was, and he couldn't help but think of how amazing a real kiss between the two of them would have been. 

However, another occasion never presented itself, and there was no way to know whether the way Anatole had pressed his nose on Gerard's and parted his mouth had been a mistake, a trick of Gerard's imagination...

His thoughts were interrupted by Professor Cailloux, saying, "I know this is a lesson that is probably best taught to people older than you, but today we will learn about the Horcrux. Jeannette Devereux has asked me specifically, to better understand a passage of a book she found in the library..."

Anatole Morin stood up. Gerard had seen what was coming, and was left without words. The Prefect had never spoken ill about another Prefect, and Jeannette was one, though he had interrupted the lessons more than once. Besides, now he knew what it was Anatole had against Curses. He couldn't share the same noble feeling of guilt about Horcruxes as well, right? Well, it depended on what a Horcrux was, of course. Gerard didn't know, and couldn't dare to guess.

"What is the problem, Morin?" the Professor asked, his light-coloured eyes reduced to slits. 

"I don't think, I mean, with all due respect, Professor, that things like that should be taught. First the Curses, and now this... we can't trust everyone. We don't know what will happen..."

"Come to your senses, Morin," the Professor said. "This is Auror training, and I expect only the best from my students. You will have to learn a bit of everything, because the Darkest Wizards and Witches undoubtedly know about this stuff, and will use it against you. Now, if you don't want to learn about these things because it is a Pandora's Box you're afraid you're willing to open... then I must say that it is a personal problem of yours, and perhaps you were never meant to go to Auror training at all."

Anatole looked as if the Professor had used the Killing Curse on him. He was pale, his lips parted, and his eyes were expressionless. Then, he flushed in mortification, and made a run for the door.

Inés was surprised, "Professor," she cried. "You had no right to speak to him like that! Not after what he's been through... those were such wicked words!"

And what Inés didn't say, but it wasn't as if she hadn't thought about it, was that being in a bad mood didn't excuse a Professor from being out of line with a pupil. But in a way, this was even worse -- it was clear Tristram had been in a good mood.

Professor Cailloux exhaled. "I know," he admitted. "I try not to be that kind of Professor. However, as much as I understand that dealing with his trauma must be complex, Morin has no right to decide what the classroom will have to learn and what better stays hidden. The other side will use everything they've got against the common people, and as Queen's Guards, we have sworn to be powerful and knowledgeable enough to stand up to those people."

Gerard briefly wondered whether the Professor wanted to look after the Queen, as well. It seemed possible. 

He'd been wanting to run after Anatole, but he surprised himself thinking that listening to the lesson was more important. Well, not exactly more important. Nothing and no one occupied a place in his heart that was bigger than the part he'd reluctantly decided to give to Anatole. However, the Horcruxes were something he wanted to hear about.

"A very dark and misguided Wizard or Witch," the Professor said. "Might decide to try this path, while I shudder to think of what really goes on in the minds of such wicked individuals. It's a way to live forever, you see. Your soul splits every time you kill somebody, and you can put part of your soul inside an object."

"An object?" Filibert wanted to know. "Like, I can kill one guy and then decide to store part of my soul in a jar so it will live forever? What do I gain?"

"There's a lot that can be gained from it, but I won't go too deep into the details," Professor Cailloux said.

"Right."

"I hope you're only hypothetically speaking, Devereux."

"Yeah, right! Hypothetically, Professor."

The Professor exhaled quite sadly. Inés raised her hand.

"Can one only do it once? I mean, erm, hypothetically speaking. How many Horcruxes could one create?"

"Up to seven."

Gerard felt as if all air had left his body.

"I swear, you kids ask all the weirdest questions," the Professor commented.

As soon as the lesson was over, Gerard made a run for the dormitories, trying to find Anatole there. Not only he wanted to check out how the older student was doing -- he also needed to confirm some doubts.

It seemed like the moment had come for Gerard Touchard to follow his heart instead of following his mind. He decided without any doubt what was the first thing he needed to do.

He walked up to Anatole's bed, and hugged him. Anatole froze.

It was quite hard to understand how two of the people in the whole world who wanted less to do with physical touch from one another, fit like two puzzle pieces the moment their arms and their chests met. Gerard only knew that it wasn't possible to fight it, and Anatole knew it wasn't possible to think it through.

It was, perhaps, the only thing in the world Gerard didn't want to fight and Anatole didn't want to think through. They both decided to lean into it, until Gerard kissed Anatole on the lips.

After a while, when it was obvious that the moment to kiss was over and the moment to speak began, Gerard said very uncharacteristically, "It's not your fault, Anatole – what happened with your sister. I'm sorry I threw it in your face. I'm stupid, uncultured and mean."

"You're not all of those things," Anatole reasoned. "Don't sell yourself short -- maybe one or two, on a bad day."

Gerard surprised everyone, even himself, when he heard this comment and didn't get too angry. In a way, he understood one thing -- talking like that to Anatole and getting those replies was a form of teasing.

"Either way," Gerard couldn't help being a little bit embarrassed. "I mean, even though I get angry and say things I don't mean, believe me when I say the Professor was way out of line. But that you've been feeling this way because you blame yourself. It's not your fault, Anatole. It's not your fault. I'll say it until you believe it."

"I may never believe it," Anatole pointed out.

"Then I'll say it forever."

Several hours later, Gerard had explained to Anatole his doubts about Melissa Neri, and the latter decided Filibert and Inés needed to know.

"They might have connected the dots already," Gerard admitted sheepishly. "They were in class, too."

In fact, Anatole knew how important it had always been for Gerard to solve his parents' murder, and how disappointed he'd been that Inés had found out more things than him during their previous talks in the library.

"There's something that doesn't add up, though," Gerard tried to reason, but the door opened, at that moment.

"Inés," Anatole cried. "What are you doing in the boys' dormitory?"

"Well, Gerard ditched class to come to see you hours ago and we were mad with worry," Inés explained. "Filibert said he could check up on him himself, but I said no. That I wanted to be here too, in case someone had kidnapped him or something."

"Well," Anatole said. "I really don't care about having a girl here." Gerard became pink -- he thought he knew what Anatole was implying.

"But," the Prefect added. "This breaks at least one rule of the school. So, Gerard, tell them your theory, and be quick about it."

"Yeah, like how quick he was to tell it to you," Filibert said. "We don't have two hours."

"Don't worry," Anatole said icily. "This time, the explanation will be very different."

Gerard told his friends what he'd already told Anatole.

"The Horcruxes," he said. "It's obvious Melissa Neri was trying to create seven Horcruxes that night. She has probably even succeeded. This is why people were worshiping her at the altars -- many dark Wizards might think her a God-like person who did something others only dreamed of."

"It's still not a valid reason to worship someone," Filibert pointed out quite wisely.

"Yes, but you heard the Professor," Inés said. "We can't even begin to imagine how those people think, what's in their minds."

"So, is she immortal? Do we need to track down all seven objects to kill her?" Gerard asked.

"Kill her??" Anatole was as white as a sheet. "You didn't tell me about that. Why would you want to kill her?"

"Revenge?"

"Of course the world will be a better place without Madame Nuit," Anatole said. He still looked under the weather. "But it's not up to you, Gerard, a barely trained Auror. We need to collect evidence and tell the headmaster and the Queen about this."

"The headmaster's son has taught us this lesson today," Gerard replied. "And I highly doubt Monsieur Cailloux knows less than his love-sick thirty-year-old son. They might have connected the dots already, and might have decided they wouldn't do anything about it a long time ago."

"And what if they haven't connected the dots?" Inés added. "They might never believe us. I don't think it's the kind of theory everyone will welcome. How are we supposed to find proof?"

"Fine," Anatole finally conceded. "But I'm asking you a better question now, how are we supposed to find the objects she's used?"

Filibert, Gerard and Inés couldn't find words. It seemed like the sort of quest no one would be able to complete in a life's work, let alone a couple of teenagers in a few weeks.

"Before Inés walked in," Anatole reminded Gerard. "You were about to tell me that there was one little problem with your theory."

Gerard recalled it all of a sudden. "Yes," he exclaimed. "There is! If Madame Nuit had already created seven Horcruxes that night... what was she trying to do when she attempted to murder me, and why did she fail?"