Mother
Chapter 1: Mother
It was ten in the evening. Lily had gone to sleep as soon as Addy was tucked in. James was spending another night in his office, chasing leads all over the continent for a person who did not exist. Harry exhaled in her bedroom. Her magic flexed.
Privacy ward in place, she picked up the small vial Caelum had given to her in the morning. It had the same consistency as her base for shape-imbuing, but the bright red was unfamiliar. A new potion. She almost felt proud of her former student, but knowing what his experimentation led to left a bitter aftertaste she could not ignore. Did she trust him?
Ready when you are, kid. Though I’m sure your magic has already screened that.
Thanks, Dom. She trusted the construct in her head. I just needed backup. Can’t have us falling to this after everything, right?
Dom hummed.
Hand over parchment, she poured.
The parchment absorbed the potion. It floated up, crinkling and turning red as a Howler. The edges folded in, and a set of paper teeth faced her. It was a Howler.
“Brat,” Caelum spoke in a haughty tone, at a volume that was unexpectedly normal. “I hope you had the sense to put up a privacy ward. You are not going to hassle me with more of your insanity, so I expect none of this will reach your family of fools. Not even your accomplices, that dratted Black or the halfblood who stole his name.”
Ha! If only he knew! Dom said.
Harry quickly sent him an impression of a finger to the lips.
All right. Listen to the pretty potioneer, not poor old Dominion Jewel with only one crazy girl for conversation. Dominion’s presence receded to the back of her mind, grumbling. You dragged me out of the pyramid, and you won’t even listen to my lovely commentary…
Harry rolled her eyes and focused on the letter. It was shaking side to side, like Caelum had shook his head in disbelief for a moment.
“As much as it pains me to say this, I need your help. And your friend Hurst needs mine.”
“Back from the apothecary so soon, Lestrange?”
Caelum ignored the fool seated in his living room, making for the door to his potions laboratory. He had more important things to attend to than to indulge in the idiot’s need for conversation.
“Hey! Don’t ignore me. Would you like a scorpion sting to your hands, pretty boy?”
In a flash, Caelum held the boy against the wall with a spell. Cold rage tempered the fear from the threat.
“Unlike some people, I have work to do. Isn’t that right, bodyguard? Though, after the tournament, I think we both know I’m the glorified babysitter of a failure—my potions were beyond expectations. You failed to attack that fool. Know your place, boy.”
Jordan struggled under the pressure of being slowly compressed. Beads of sweat appeared on his face, but the arrogant anger did not disappear. It only grew stronger. Had it weakened just a bit, Caelum might have gone easy on him; Jordan’s failures had worked in his favor, after all.
“When you let your guard down—” Jordan choked out as the pressure increased. “—I’ll make you regret this!”
Caelum leisurely held his wand aloft, thinking of past lessons at Durmstrang that would make this nuisance back off. He remembered an older boy, purple light, and a week of moving while keeping his injuries secret, too prideful for the infirmary. He had learned an advanced potion to deal with the pain, then. Many of his first lessons at that school were like that.
Thankfully, his education was not a total waste, as a particularly dark spell came to mind. Perfect.
“Pray tell me how you intend to do that—”
“You’ll have the honor of trying out what I have for that impostor, Black, and Potter first!” Jordan snarled.
“—when you’ll be too busy stuck in your own head?” Caelum’s eyes flashed as he heard the girl’s name leave the boy’s lips. His hand waved into the elaborate pattern of the spell. “Cogitare—”
The door to his basement lab slammed open. Caelum’s wand shifted to the left, incomplete spell splashing against the wall as his attention was diverted to keeping it in his hand against the force of a Disarming Spell.
“I leave my son alone for a few months, and he takes up dueling?”
Mother. Caelum swiftly turned towards the voice, barely keeping the beginning of another spell behind pursed lips.
“He finally grows a backbone, too. Would you like a better sparring partner, Caelum?” His mother’s voice grew as sickeningly sweet as a poison berry. Her fingers were wrapped loosely around her wand.
“Mother.” Caelum says this time, as he dropped his stance, arms falling to the side. Jordan remained pressed against the wall, but only just; he was too distracted to increase the pressure anymore. “I was merely reminding this simpleton of his place.”
“Shame. I thought you finally had the sense to be useful beyond potions.” Bellatrix sighed, then showed her teeth with a hungry sort of smile. “I would have trained you to the bone, son.”
A growl to the side brought their attention to a near-feral Jordan. Disgust on her face, Bellatrix cancelled his spell with a wave of walnut wood. Jordan fell to the floor.
“You’re to return to base. Our Lord has a task for you. Don’t fail him again,” she said to the slumped figure on the floor. “Now!”
With a final sneer in Caelum’s direction, Jordan left the apartment as quick as the wobble in his step would allow.
Keeping his hands steady, Caelum holstered his wand. His mother lowered hers after a long look at his hands dropping to the side.
“A little birdie told me you saw the Potter chit in Diagon today. Such interesting things, my birdie had to say,” Bellatrix stepped closer with a wild grin on her face. Even with their height difference making her tilt her head back slightly at this distance, Caelum felt small.
He carefully unfroze. “I merely told her a piece of my mind.”
“Is that so? It seems you were so passionate about our cause, Caelum. How unexpected. I had thought potions was your only passion.”
Caelum remained on guard. The silence added weight to the atmosphere.
“Hm, let’s see.” Bellatrix pulled out a scrap of parchment from within her cloak. She started reading with a pout on her lips. “’…you may have everyone fooled…I don’t believe…you didn’t know that impostor…bet you loved watching him…you might end up offending someone less magnanimous next—’ is this concern in your words, my dear?”
“Perhaps we’re hearing different things. That doesn’t sound like concern at all, mother. I was merely incensed by her presence and blatant disregard for our blood.” Even he knew he sounded particularly soulless then.
“Oh, but I know you, Caelum.” Her sickeningly sweet smile returned with a vengeance. She was close enough now to hit him with another curse straight to the chest. “I know my only son. Your passion only knows how to translate itself into anger.”
She was projecting, Caelum knew. Anger knew no place in the delicate balance needed in potions. His passion revealed itself in the steady hand he stirred cauldrons with, the grunts he made when he got a complicated step right.
Sure, he had a quick tongue when it came to insults, but that was only disinterested disgust, not passion, or Merlin forbid, concern. Although, he was willing to admit to himself—he had been a bit mad about her disregard, but what was with this direction his mother was implying? Concern? Caelum knew she was crazy, but this was concerning.
“Then I fail to see where—”
“You rage when the things you care about don’t go your way, boy. That pent-up frustration, festering inside you. You wanted a caring mother, a doting father”—Bellatrix’s mouth twisted into a grotesque smirk—"but you’re too much of a failure to deserve either. So, you let that rage escape through insults and false armor. You must really care about the Potter bitch to not keep a lid on it like that earlier.”
Caelum schooled his expression.
“Don’t make me sick, mother.”
Her tinkling laughter mocked him. “Of course, my dear. You do that by yourself with the company you keep.”
Caelum squinted at her. The danger that was very present in her words aside, she was in a good mood. “What was the real reason you came here?”
“It’s a good thing your skills are so useful now.” Bellatrix’s voice had a warning edge to them now. “The Dark Lord wanted to know your progress in the Potentialis and battle potions. We need to know how effective they are for the scale of our attack.”
Face back to pleasantly calm neutrality with potions on his mind, Caelum led her back inside the laboratory. “Tell him I still lack one ingredient for the Potentialis. It’s been out of stock at Tate’s and the other apothecaries, but I’ve been checking nearly every day. As for the battle potions, I can give you a sample.”
Without warning, Bellatrix placed her hand near his elbow. They looked like mother and son on a pleasant stroll. He raised his eyebrows minutely.
“Tut. You must remember some manners. It won’t do if you mess up when it’s your time to meet our Lord again in his new form. You will not disappoint me then.”
Caelum was sure she felt the spasm of his arm at her words. She was…not disregarding him. Not really. Not anymore. She didn’t view him as much of a failure as before, no matter her words only a minute ago.
He ignored the tightness of his chest at the revelation.
“As for the battle potions, we’ll be testing them here. Perhaps even brush up on what you remember from your dueling lessons while we’re at it.”
He ignored the sudden clamminess of his hands with all the grace of a pureblood heir.