The Heretic (II)

October 9th.

Hogwarts.

LILY POTTER: SLOW DESCENT INTO MADNESS??

Dearest readers,

We at the Daily prophet were privy to a situation that happened last night when Lily Potter, mother of the boy who lived barged into St. Mungo’s and tore into the Head Healer of Magical Cores, Martin Blishwick.

According to witnesses, he had to be helped to a ward and treated for numerous bruises and curses. Half his office destroyed beyond recognition by the well known Charms Mistress and—

Flashback.

“P-please! I had nothing to do with thissssss!!!”

Healer Blishwick screamed out in pain as Lady Potter yanked out a huge chunk of his hair as her husband tried to get her away from him.

Multiple Healers rushing into the chaos as Sirius held his wand at them with a manic gleam in his eyes and Remus hunched over in a corner, unsure of what to do but definitely hating the amount of noise and how it affected his very sensitive hearing.

--We here at the Daily Prophet hope the Lady Potter ends up getting the appropriate treatment she needs.

It has after all been a rather stressful time for the mother. I myself as a mother know what a lying child can put one through—

Chase paused as he read the Daily Prophet in confusion.

What in Merlin’s name was going on?!

“Mate, your mom’s gone mental!”

Ron blurted out as he read the front page over Chase’s shoulder that morning at breakfast, only for Hermione to slap him over the head.

“That was rude, Ronald!”

“Ow!”

The bushy haired teen ignored the ginger and turned to her quiet friend who had a frown on his face.

“Did your dad write to you… about this?”

She whispered and Chase finally snapped out of his mind, turning to his friend.

“Hermione, I haven’t even written to them in a while. It’s been crazy here. This though…”

He glanced at the paper again, looking up and noticing the eyes people were giving him.

At the teachers table, Umbridge had an almost mocking smile on as she folded her copy of the paper and sipped her tea.

“I should probably write someone who might tell me something.”

Ron’s eyes lit up in understanding.

“Sirius?”

“Sirius.”

Hermione sighed, packing her bag up.

“Come on, we should get to class now. The DA’s first meeting is tonight. We don’t want to give Umbridge any reason to suspect anything out of the ordinary.”

She whispered urgently and the two boys nodded, Ron grabbing a sausage as they left the Great Hall, feeling eyes on them.

October 16th.

Headmasters Office, Hogwarts.

Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth, twisting and turning it with his tongue as he absentmindedly brushed his hand through his beard, deep in thought.

It had been a week since the Potter parents had visited him with an almost unbelievable story, and he still had a lot to wrap around in his mind.

A daughter who had been diagnosed as a squib from such a young age. Taken to live with family in the muggle world who ended up being… something.

Ending up in prison after murdering people… 78 people!

He shuddered slightly.

A child.

Just a child.

And what a mistake St. Mungo’s had done. The Potters were now looking to place a lawsuit on them. After all, if they could make such a simple mistake, all because of an unqualified trainee healer from over a decade ago… what’s to say there weren’t other victims?

Thought to be squibs, living their lives after getting abandoned.

What’s to say…

Suffice to say it could be an issue that could bind the wizarding world together. Even the more elitist families. They may not care for the half-blood Potter, but many Pureblood families have had squibs in their lines, some even recent. If the chance of them being wizards or witches get to their ears… it could be an issue that would rock the wizarding world.

Dumbledore almost pitied St. Mungo’s almost. He couldn’t imagine what poor Leilani Potter had gone through and what she had turned into now.

Circumstances.

Circumstances make a change of people.

Circumstances made Tom Riddle into the monster he now is. Circumstances made his dear friend Grindelwald into the fear figure he now is.

And now, circumstances were showing what could be… what was already being set into motion.

Leilani Potter…

At the age of 8… had a lot of blood on her hands. Killing people was something he knew he’d struggled with all his life.

The thought of having the life force of someone at your control. Whether to take it or save it. He knew there was always a time for such actions of course, and perhaps that was the reason he held out some hope for the young girl.

Circumstances had led her into a situation that turned her into what she had become. A killer.

What she had been through, he’d never wish upon anyone.

The mistake he had made with Tom Riddle, he did not want to make it with another child.

He had carelessly mistrusted the boy once and it still hunted him. Perhaps he would have been able to lead the boy towards a different future.

Perhaps…

And now, so much potential gone to waste. Gone to darkness and led astray.

This child still had a chance. He could help the Potter family out. Do something good in his grey life.

He sighed, turning to look at Fawkes who sat on his perch, grooming himself and occasionally letting out little chirps.

“No time like the present, hm Fawkes?”

Fawkes raised his head, eyes glowing brightly as he tripped in agreement.

And Dumbledore dipped his quill in ink. Perhaps some of his contacts could help him out.

Perhaps one who especially had a debt he owed him. And Constantine had been looking for a way out of that debt, hadn’t he?

November.

Japan.

It was awfully chilly that early evening, as she sat in a lotus position, levitating above the calm lake beneath her, so close to the still waters that one would think she was practically sitting on it.

The chill of the air was ignored even though it practically sank into her exposed biceps, eyes closed and fingers locked in a pose as she breathed in and out in meditation.

It had been over 2 months since she started her training, and it had been one of the hardest and harshest she had ever been through.

Running up mountains in nothing but a tank and trousers. Swimming in the cold and chilly waters and learning to regulate her body temperature and breathing.

Using her powers in her fighting style.

She knew she still had a long way to go, not just with her martial pursuits, but also these powers that she controlled.

It had a lot of potential but she didn’t know her limit and just how far she could go before she ended up dead. But she could definitely call to it faster.

And of course, there was one she very much liked.

Teleportation. She had come to appreciate it quite a lot, especially when learning to pinpoint her destination. After all, it was much more difficult than one would think. Teleportation was dangerous and one little mistake could cause her death. Teleportation a little to the right instead of the left could lead to one getting dropped in a volcano, getting hot by a bus, tearing oneself apart. And there was the fact that it was very uncomfortable. She’d decided it was better using it in covert times rather than let people know she could actually do it. Better to have a few tricks up her sleeve than reveal it all when there was no need to.

Heretic liked to think she was better in a lot of things now. Her strength had peaked and she had more muscles and some scars on her bicep and two on her left calf.

Her teachers hadn’t spared the sharp weapons when training her and she learnt to dodge and fight back when needed.

The silence of the atmosphere was soon disturbed as she heard a slight rustle from the trees behind.

The sound of swords slicing in the air in an almost metallic way.

She snapped her eyes open in that moment, using her magic to empower her very being as she raised herself in the air, twirling out of the way of a sword injury to the shoulder as she twisted her hand and a glowing neon katana came into existence in her hand.

She landed on the ground, a little further from the lake in a stance, looking ahead to see 7 cloaked ninjas ready for her.

They said nothing, and she in turn was quiet. Eyes on her assailants as she studied and waited just as she did.

Both sides in a stalemate waiting for the first to move. And they did. With their swords raised above their head in both hands, they practically glided towards her without so much as a sound as they moved on their toes, something Heretic had begun to learn as soon as she could.

The sound of swords meeting in the air resonated in the air as Heretic blocked the sword attack with hers, eyes glowing neon in concentration.

Movement behind her, she used her sword to push her assailant a little and ran forward, and with a strong kick, jumped in the air and twisted at her second opponent, twisting out of the way of the sword by a millimeter and kicking at their side.

The game was simple. If they drew blood or so much as hit her first, then they won. But if she did, they were out for the count.

She turned towards the remaining 5 now circling her in a run, and one broke through, going for her and she dodged a roundhouse kick to the face and as they landed, she used the opportunity to sweep the off their feet.

4 to go.

Breathing out slightly while regulating her breathing, 2 came after her from opposite directions. She attacked the first one who got to her by blocking his swing before collapsing in a split, using the opportunity to kick the one in front of her backwards and turning to the second, parrying their sword attack and using the opportunity to displace it before taking a high jump and using her knee to hit her opponents face.

And then the last two stood swords by their side for the final spar.

Her 6th opponent attacked and she met them halfway in a run. She gritted her teeth slightly as she strengthened the power of her katana before quickly dodging a roundhouse kick and a headbutt by jumping backwards.

Lifting her arms up with her sword above her head, she pretended to attack and they blocked the move with their sword. Having fallen for her feint move, she lifted her foot towards their groin and hit where she was sure it would hurt and they collapsed with a groan.

A chilling smile grew across her face as she embraced the cry of pain, before turning to her final opponent who wasted no time running after her in a silent shout.

He was obviously the better fighter amongst the seven. And faster too, as he stroke continuously and Heretic slowly began loosing her breath by how sharp and precise the attacks were. Never giving her space of time to turn the fight around.

She needed to control the flow of the fight.

Just as Sensei Yoru always told her.

‘Controlling the fight means your opponent is always on the back foot, giving you a massive advantage during the fight.’

She embraced enhancing her strength with her feet and with a shout, stamped hard at the earth beneath her making a mini earthquake occur and which startled her opponent and then holding her katana with both hands, enhancing it’s strength and durability, she let out another shout, and with a side swipe at her opponents sword, sliced the sword in two.

With that done, she pointed the tip of her sword at the neck of the opponent, an almost smug look on her face though breathing rather harshly.

“Victory.”

As she said that, her 7 opponents stepped back and regrouped in a straight line before her and bowed which she reciprocated.

And then the best amongst them from earlier spoke up in a rather accented English.

“The Sensei would like to meet with you now.”

Heretic nodded, turning to look at the rather high hill a little further away with what looked to be over 500 steps. A house sat at it’s top.

She began her journey.

“You still haven’t told me how you climb these steps. What are you, 90?”

Was the first thing Heretic said as she entered the Japanese style home, her eyes on the old man sitting rather comfortably in a lotus style with hit tea on a low table which he sipped.

“And when will you have respect for your elders?”

The 15 year old rolled her eyes as she sat opposite him in similar style, moving to pour herself some tea when his hand moved faster than his age should allow, slapping her hand.

“Ah!”

She rubbed at her hand, wincing at how painful it had been while giving the old man a look.

“Sometimes, it is good to respect those you see as your elders. We are not usually long for this world.”

Sensei Yoru advices and Heretic gave him a disbelieving look.

“Somehow, I find that you will live in this world longer than I will.”

Yoru chuckled at that as he grabbed the teapot and poured in the cup Heretic was holding and she eagerly inhaled it, relaxing as the tea took effect on her body.

“Death comes for us all one day. And when that time comes for me, I will welcome it as an old friend.”

“Death is just an entity. Is it not?”

Yoru sighed.

“Death… is a being, just like any other. The end of all things. Death is what was… what is… and what will be.”

“I find it hard to believe death is a being… then again, with the random crazies popping up around, who am I to deny such a possibility?”

Yoru said nothing at first, before speaking up.

“Have you heard the story of the Peverell brothers?”

Heretic raised an eyebrow at that.

“No.”

“They were brothers, capable of wielding magic. Much like the people you search for.”

Heretic’s eyes sharpened.

She’d asked him when she was newly a student about how much he knew, and while he had quite the information on them, he was still as non-magical as the next person, and so had no way to help her. But he had met quite the number of them before and knew way too much to not have sources.

Sources the old man wasn’t willing to share.

“There are many versions of this story. Even one made into a children’s tale. But the one that is believed true above many is the one I am about to tell you.”

Heretic leaned in, curious.

“Three brothers helped an old woman. Dying of thirst and as old as the dirt. Two brothers wished to ignore her and leave her for dead, but the youngest preferred to help her. And so, she gifted them with her most prized of possessions. To the middle brother, a stone of power. Capable of calling the souls of the dead.”

Heretic’s eyes gleamed at that.

“To the oldest brother, a wand so powerful it was feared above all else. The wand of destiny, it was called. And to the youngest and kindest of the three brothers, a cloak when worn, could hide him from the eyes of entities. An invisibility cloak. Millennia has passed since it happened, and the 3 objects lost to myth. But… it is believed, that in the hand of a single being capable of more… it does even more untold things… capable of greater power granted by Death itself.”

Heretic thought over the story in her head, not sure whether to believe it or not.

Such items… could they even be real?

No one knew. And she wasn’t quite sure she care either way.

“Why did you tell me this story?”

He had to have told her for a reason after all.

Sensei Yoru took a sip of his tea, breathing in and out as he placed it back on the table, and then he looked at her.

“No reason. It just came to mind.”

Heretic’s eyes twitched, and Yoru's mouth lifted into a smile.

“You despicable old man.”

“Respect your elders you brat!”

He produced a small cane from somewhere and hit it on her head.

“Ah!”

She cried out, holding onto there head and gritting in pain.

“Are you still planning to leave soon?”

Heretic snapped one wounded eye open, before opening the other with a frown.

“Yes. I have a lot to do. People to meet. Worlds to explore… and vengeance to be netted out.”

Sensei Yoru watched her closely.

“Vengeance… when last did I hear those words?”

He softly grasped at his beard.

“Ah yes… that young man who never smiled. He seems to be doing quite well for himself in Gotham.”

The 15 year old raised an eyebrow at that.

“The Batman?”

“Indeed. Perhaps I should advice you that vengean5 is never the option.”

“It is to me.”

Heretic glared.

“Will you feel satisfied by it? Wouldn’t it be better to leave your best life?”

Heretic looked away, glancing down at her tightened fists.

“Perhaps. But first… I need the truth. My powers are not just… spontaneous. I need to know why… why I was abandoned.”

A soft look entered Sensei Yoru’s eyes and he hummed.

“Perhaps. But be careful. The path to finding the truth could lead you to darkness. Sometimes what we find out is not what we hope for.”

But what she found out should be more than enough for her…

She HAD to know.

Later that evening…

Heretic laid in bed, eyes closed as she listened to the wind outside her room when she heard a knock on her door and she turned from her bed in the small room to see her mail being slid through the door and the floor.

Standing up, she moved towards it, grabbing it and immediately opening it by ripping it up, curious to see who it could be from.

As she read the contents of the letter, a small smile blossomed across her face.

Some of the older orphans got into well known universities. Two got into the police academy. Slowly integrating into the world at large. She could wait for her network to grow. She could wait.

The one that made her even more pleased was the last paragraph though.

Constantine had been found.

Perfect.

Well then, it looked like her trip to Japan would be ending by January.

Splendid.

November 15th.

Magical Britain.

The Wizarding world was in a disarray.

And St. Mungo’s seemed to be in the thick of things.

The public soon enough found out about the mix-up of magical core results and the possibility of the other Potter twin not being a squib.

It caused an uproar louder than most would expect.

Fear and worry ran through the minds of many who once had squibs in their families. Especially the Pureblood families who wondered if perhaps a mistake had been made all those years ago.

Turmoil ran through the British wizarding world as a public outcry for St. Mungo’s to be punished or even going so far… be abolished.

But there wasn’t exactly a particular person to sue, except St Mungo’s itself as an institution. And Lily Potter was in the thick of things.

The fury she felt, the worry, sadness, guilt.

Her daughter was lost out in the world for now… the best she could do at the moment was advocate for her in the wizarding world, as well as those that could be in a similar situation as poor Leilani.

Tonight though, the Order of The Phoenix met at its headquarters for another meeting amongst many of it’s core members.

Dumbledore. Potter. Black. McGonagall. Shacklebolt. Moody. Longbottom. Diggle. Doge. Vance. Fletcher. Lupin. Snape. Weasley. Jones.

“Will your wife not be making it today as well, James?”

Molly Weasley asked the man who shook his head with a small smile.

“Not today, Molly. She still has that issue with St. Mungo’s.”

Molly tittered sympathetically.

“Oh of course. That poor child…”

James forced a smile across his face before quickly escaping from the mothering woman and settling down next to his two best friends.

“Finally escape from Molly, hm?”

Remus threw him a look over the hot chocolate he was enjoying and James sighed ruefully.

“She’s not that bad…”

Sirius snorted before changing the conversation.

“When are you going to talk to Chase about… all this? He’s very much pissed with you and Lily.”

As he said that, James shrunk into his chair with a tired expression.

“We’re more or less waiting for the Christmas holidays. We feel it’s better telling him in private than sending a measly letter.”

Sirius nodded absentmindedly.

“I understand. But you also shouldn’t forget your son has your wife’s horrible temper. Be prepared for one furious 15 year old going through hormonal puberty and not a calm one.”

James winced at that and Remus covered a smile.

Hopefully Chase would be amenable to an explanation.

But… should they be telling him the whole story?

How his twin could very well be dangerous…??

Not that Lily even entertained such a thought. Then again, he didn’t… but Remus being the clearer head advised them to look at all sides before expecting anything welcoming if they ever found Leilani.

But James liked to hold onto hope. It was the only thing he had right now after all.

He had nothing else but that.

“Good evening everyone…”

Dumbledore’s voice resonated across the room as he walked in with a smile on his face, McGonagall and a brooding Snape right behind him and both immediately taking their seats.

“Good evening professor.”

“Evening Dumbledore.”

Everyone exchanged greetings and slowly the meeting started.

Halfway through, Mundugus Fletcher stumbled in, half drunk and absolutely reeking as he stumbled into the seat next to Hestia Jones who immediately whipped out her wand and began casting multiple cleaning charms on the slightly responsive man.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

“Back to our discussions, the Potters have agreed to let me tell you some news on their beloved daughter, Miss Leilani Potter.”

Everyone perked up at that, and though Snape sneered, even his eyes brightened in curiosity of the other Potter child.

“Oh! Is she going to be joining Chase at Hogwarts in the coming year?”

Molly gushed out, turning towards James who stared down at the mug of butterbeer in his hand.

Dumbledore sighed.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

The Order members frowned.

“And why not? She is not a squib after all. Or were the results later proven right?”

Elphias Doge spoke up.

“It would seem, that a few years back… Leilani Potter’s guardians were murdered… and as of now, she has been… declared missing.”

Gasps filled the air, some turning towards James whose fingers tightened around the cup, Sirius and Remus staring at him with worried looks.

McGonagall held a hand to her chest.

“Oh my! How did this happen?! Where could she be?!”

“Is she even alive?”

“The poor dear!”

“Dear Merlin!”

“Must have been You-know-who’s followers.”

Moody muttered to himself with his mechanical eye whirring around the room.

Dumbledore continued.

“We believe she is somewhere in Britain, though the accident happened in America.”

“Do we know if she is well though?”

Alice Longbottom finally spoke up from where she sat, a slight look of concern across her usually grim face and Dumbledore shook his head.

“We do not have much information on her. It is why the Potter parents decided to announce it. But this stays between us for the moment. It will not do for Voldemort and his death eaters to find out an start a search of their own. No. For now, anyone willing to volunteer for the occasional search, is welcome to send me a letter after this meeting is over with. A series of searching will begin before the year is out.”

Meanwhile…

Lord Nott walked through the dark oak double doors with a proud gait and a smug face, immediately bowing as low as his old back would allow him to.

“My lord… I have arrived. And I bring good news.”

The dark lord stared down at his follower from the throne he sat on, red eyes gleaming.

“Tell me, Nott. What news have you brought back for me?”

Nott straightened back up with a satisfied smile.

“My Lord… The Queen of Blood has thought on it. She is very amenable to our cause. And would welcome our battles when the time comes.”

A chilling smile grew across Voldemort’s ugly face.

“Wonderful. We shall begin planning in the New Year.”