The Night Culmination

They hadn't thought it through.

It was not like it was one of those plans that are so easy to think through. You either tried it or you didn't, and, as Anatole had pointed out, no one had ever become a hero by staying home and not trying.

"I'm sure I can think of a few cases in history where staying home saved lives," Filibert said, but Inés told him that, unless the plague made a come-back, it was unlikely.

That afternoon, they sneaked out of school and Anatole showed up in the same place where they met Adele the last time.

"Adele," he called out. "I don't need a tracking spell, or to read your mind, to know you're here. I know you. And I know you patrol the city, always in the same spots, in plain sight but hidden. And why do I know you so well? Well, because you are my sister. I need to talk to you. I can't bear to think you'd throw away your life like that without hearing some reasoning first."

Just as he expected, Adele took the invisibility cape off her shoulders and showed up. "And why brother dear, do you think you can talk some reasoning into me? Because you are a boy and I am a girl? I thought you and Dad never saw eye to eye. Or did his punishments change your mind?"

Anatole tried not to be shocked by her words. It was an ability he had, to pretend things were alright and that he was cold even when he was feeling so hot-blooded he'd use his sword to pass through an enemy. It was something he had to learn at home, with his father and with his sister, so similar one to another even though they loathed the other for something as unimportant as the gender they were born as.

Anatole's father thought women had no place in society except to get married. His sister thought men were arrogant fools. But their minds were cut from the same mold.

"You know I don't believe in things like that," Anatole replied. "I just love you."

In a way, it was true. He still loved his sister, a bit. He guessed you couldn't just stop doing something like that.

"Of course," Adele rolled her eyes. "You don't think women are inferior. You speak of love openly. You are not an ordinary man. Why... I wonder what would happen if you knew I knew of your little secret. Now I finally have something against you. I could hurt dear little Gerard. Maybe that would finally make you mad."

Anatole tried not to whimper. It was worse than being hurt physically, to think that something could happen to hot-blooded, insufferable Gerard. The only person he'd learnt how to love after his sister had hurt him. The only person he'd ever laid his eyes on, and thought that he could want.

And the same person who told him it was alright to want things.

"So silent," Adele teased him. "Is it because I've finally broken through your amour? Or is it because you're so unfeeling, you can't conjure up a few words to string about your white and black haired lover? Don't ask me how I know. It would be too foolish. You know I have my ways. You think my emotions are out of control, but where are yours, Anatole?"

"I am baring my emotions," Anatole replied. Anyone who knew him like Gerard knew him would know he was telling the truth. His voice was hoarse and he was in obvious pain. But Adele had never known empathy, and so she couldn't discern the subtleties of feelings.

"How apt, that you bare your emotions a little at a time, slowly and coldly," she declared. "Is that the same way you bare yourself for your lover? When you take off your clothes?"

This time, the words couldn't help but hurt greatly. Besides, Anatole knew Gerard was spying on him, to make sure his sister wouldn't hurt him. To make sure he would be able to follow them to Madame Nuit's lair.

"I just want to talk to you," Anatole tried again. "Let me. I want you to come home to our father, Adele. I'll tell him that you can fight. We can be a real family."

"Why would you tell father? Because he would believe only you! You would leave my destiny, the destiny of a girl, in the hands of a boy like you, just because..."

"Just because father would only accept it that way. Believe me. I am nothing like him," Anatole replied. "One of my best friends is Inés Silvestre. She will be the best Auror out of us. The school has two Prefects, and Jeannette Devereux is better at it than me. Believe me, I am not a foolish, blind man. I can recognize the women who have talent. I've always seen it, even in you."

Adele took her wand and cast a spell on Anatole. It was a spell neither Anatole nor Gerard had ever heard of, but it was making her brother bleed. Anatole felt as if tiny little cuts were opening on his body. It hurt, but, judging from the amount of blood, it was the kind of thing that would hurt more later on.

"Do-not-talk-condescendingly-to-me!" Adele said, through gritted teeth. "You are weak, brother. That is why you've always known my talent was greater than yours. Not because you are so perfect that you just knew that women could be better than men. Well, fucking hurray! Three cheers for the ever humble golden boy who understood his sister was better than him."

"It doesn't have to be like that," Anatole protested, his blood slowly leaving his body. He wondered whether Gerard would spoil the plan by coming to save him. He wasn't doubting his love, he was simply hoping Touchard would understand the quest came first. Insufferable, hot-blooded Touchard. Was he ever going to learn cold blood was something you achieve, not something you were born with?

Gerard did not want to ruin the plan.

It took all of his goodwill not to come out from his hiding place -- Adele wasn't the only one with an invisibility cape. Monsieur Cailloux, the headmaster, had given one to him too -- and save Anatole.

His sister had been cruel in both actions and words, way out of line. Gerard was hoping they would all come back from the mission. He wanted to hug Anatole, to kiss him, to love him as best as he could. And to tell him it wasn't a problem, even if he had issues baring his body and his words. Gerard wanted Anatole just the way he was, never had it occurred to him that he could fix him.

Not that Anatole needed fixing. Not that it wouldn't have been fun, even if he did. But that was not something he had the luxury to think about. He was  almost sure he wouldn't come back from this day.

Some selfish part of him hoped Anatole would die too. At least they would be together. He tried to suffocate that wicked part of his imagination, that many times had got the best of him. He realized that he wasn't twisted -- people like Adele were. He just wasn't exactly good, but who would be?

Anatole, perhaps. But he was bleeding out in his sister's arms.

Gerard followed them to Madame Nuit's lair.

He jumped in front of Anatole at the right moment. "With a tracking spell," he told Adele, who was wide-eyed. "My friends Inés and Filibert will find us and join us."

"How did you..." Adele choked.

"I know people like you," Gerard chuckled. "You are seemingly unfeeling, cold and talented. You are brave and strong. You're always right. You're just like your brother. There is only one difference between the two of you, and it's not the one you think."

Adele rolled her eyes. "Sure. Maybe it's that I have more personality?"

"Wrong. You think you are so special that you have never stopped to think that, in reality, you are predictable. You are so predictable that we've been able to fool you."

Adele was starting to cry out some spell, but, at that moment, Anatole stunned her. He laid on the ground right after the spell, as if having been able to hurt his sister had taken all the life out of him.

Gerard was about to cry, but that was the moment Inés and Filibert showed up.

"He has a pulse," Filibert said. "I believe I can take care of him, though I am no doctor. I will try to keep him alive. Charline wants to be a magical doctor, and she has told me many medicine spells. Inés and Gerard, you go fight Madame Nuit."

When it was only Gerard and his friend, he told her, "I believe I know how to kill Madame Nuit. But she surely has many henchmen, or women on her side. It couldn't have been only Adele."

Inés was about to protest, when Gerard added, "Hey. I trust you to take care of all of them. Can you trust me to take care of only Madame Nuit? And after today, no more competition for who will be the best Auror and the next Prefect."

Inés nodded, out of words. The two of them had always been friends, but the competition hung in the air between them each time they spoke, though they had kept it silent and civil.

"Of course," Inés replied. "I don't know what your plan is, but take care Gerard."

"I wish I could."

Anatole didn't know, at first, how Gerard had killed Madame Nuit. He only knew that, by the time he heard her scream, he was well enough to be back on his feet.

And that, when he joined the two of them, the Madame wasn't the only one who wasn't alive anymore. Gerard was lying dead on the floor.

Panicked, he called out to Inés and Filibert. Thankfully, by the time the two of them had arrived, something was changing.

"What..." Filibert was about to say something unholy.

Starting from the white streak in his hair, Gerard's hair was becoming completely white. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

Anatole hugged him. Gerard felt as if the Prefect wanted to strangle him. "What did you do? Did you think you could have died on me, just like that?"

Gerard blinked. "It was the only way to kill her," he said. "I was already brave, but I learned the cold blood from you. I thought you'd be proud."

"I am. But what does making her kill you have to do with killing her?"

"Easy. Apparently, she had part of my soul. I read that the only way to kill someone with a Horcrux is to kill the objects or the people that store part of their soul. But in Madame Nuit's case it was different -- she was storing the souls of half-dead people. The only person alive who had part of her soul still intact was me."

Anatole started hugging him so strongly that now Gerard was sure the other boy, who usually didn't even want to touch people, was going to take the air out of him and kill him again. "You foolish, insufferable Gerard Touchard... what do you mean half-dead?"

"Well," Gerard winced. "Their souls are alive, aren't they?"

At that moment, just like magic, seven souls shaped up into the bodies of people whose bodies shouldn't be on Earth anymore. But magic could do impossible things, after all.

Anatole understood it the moment it became real to Gerard. Amongst those people, a handsome dark-haired man and a woman who looked partly Turkish or Greek made their way to Gerard.

"Our son," Jacques commented, in awe.

"We know you don't know us, and we don't know you," Lis added. "But we want to start. If it's alright with you."

"After all," Jacques said. "I doubt you will want to go home to my parents."

"I don't," Gerard replied, still feeling as if all of this was too good to be true. "But they need to know. That you're back. They loved you."

"But they never loved you, or Lis. And don't worry, they will know I am alive. Everyone will know. You were a hero, tonight, Gerard. You could also decide not to go back to Auror Training, if you don't want to, now that we're in the picture."

Gerard looked at Inés and Filibert. Then, he looked at Anatole.

"But I want to. I want to, very much."