Meeting
Chapter 2: Meeting
“Thanks for setting this up, Leo.”
“No worries, lass. Just used my natural charm on the lady at the desk”—he gave her a roguish grin at that—"got some of Master Whitaker’s favorite parchment, copied his penmanship, and made sure to schedule this when he’s having tea with my parents.”
“Then I’ll add fake appointments to the list of things I’ll have to look out for,” Harry said as she sat on a stool to the side of the door, hidden from anyone taking a cursory glance into the room.
Leo chose the spot behind the door.
“Well, it’s not like you’ll be accepting invites from just anyone in the first place, right?”
Right. It was unlikely for her to meet with any of the people she knew as Rigel, and besides, it would be too dangerous since they were still on the hunt for him. No matter how she missed them, she didn’t regret the ruse. The loss was simply the cost of their act. She couldn’t help feeling lonely thinking of the number of people she could trust, though.
“Right.” Leo’s voice brought her out of her thoughts. He looked a bit sheepish. “Sorry. Shouldn’t have—”
“It’s fine. And you’ve got a point. If Snape sent me a letter to meet him, I’d come even if it was probably Riddle behind the door.” She definitely remembered the same happening at Hogwarts. Luckily, it seemed both her teacher—though he wasn’t her teacher anymore, and he never really was—and the politician hadn’t decided to hunt down the other children involved with the ruse.
“That’s probably unwise. Make sure he schedules it at the guild, and I’ll help monitor who comes inside.”
Not for the first time, Harry felt odd that someone else knew her biggest secret and was actively helping her out. It had only been Archie for the longest time—but that wasn’t really fair. Leo had always looked out for her, even without all the pieces of the puzzle.
“Would your parents be okay with that, though? They’re only letting you out for two hours this time. Not that I’m complaining; it’s more time with you, at least. How did you manage to convince them?”
“I might have gone on a brewing frenzy just to finish all of the ingredients I stockpiled last time and told them I needed more time to shop. The pantry was under threat.”
Leo chuckled. “Well, next time you use your ways, you can spend some actual time in the alleys. Come home. We’ll keep you safe; we protect our own.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She wouldn’t take the risk of endangering the alleys any more than she already had, if she had anything to do about it. She appreciated the offer, though.
“Really, lass. You should take a break. It helps keep you in top form, at least. I’d know.”
“Well, I haven’t really been doing much at home. But thank you. I’ll take you up on it before the summer ends.” Harry remembered all too well being told that she had helped the Rogue with her visits. She didn’t want to burden him more, but a friendly visit to the Dancing Phoenix did sound tempting.
“I’ll hold you to that. Hopefully, we won’t need to deal with your little prince after this.”
“He’s not my little anything,” Harry frowned, remembering their last encounter at Tate’s.
Caelum had been a peer, a friend who was just as obsessed with Potions. Had his hate always been that strong? Or did she simply lose tolerance? It had been easier before the ruse collapsed to not let talk of blood affect her, but blood politics had been the beginning and end of it all. She was sick of it.
He had always been rude, but his verbal jabs had had more emotion than the usual irritation he had for the non-Potions world. Quick to anger when she met him, he had simmered down to customary grumbling. Did the ruse reveal what he really felt about her, then?
The ghost of his fingers on her wrist stayed her thoughts. She had been stressed at that moment, different from the girl he wrote to, but he had also changed. That he spoke so plainly when she was willing to turn away was alarming. Her project of Making Caelum Lestrange a Decent Human Being might have had an irreversible setback, but she felt concern all the same.
She had too few friends who had known her as Harry.
“I think we should listen to what he’ll say. He mentioned you, specifically, and said he needed help.”
Leo looked skeptical at the last part.
“Healer’s Oath?” Harry offered.
More like foolish saving-people thing I thought you had left behind as Rigel, Dom said helpfully. He had volunteered to be on standby when she went out of the house. Harry would have felt comforted by his presence if she didn’t feel that Dom was watching while seated on his throne, handfed popcorn by the golems in her mindscape, delighted by the live-action drama after their weeks at home. There were only so many memories to review, after all.
Leo snorted. “You’re too good, lass.”
Silence descended on the two as the time neared the appointment.
They didn’t have to wait long. Caelum had always been punctual.
As soon as the pureblood heir crossed the threshold, Leo snapped the door closed with a ward. The other boy flinched, wand slipping down to his hand after a second’s hesitation as he tried to spin around, but Leo was quicker. Two quick spells later, and Lestrange was disarmed with his limbs locked to the sides.
Icy blue orbs quivered with anger until they took in the girl calmly sitting to the side.
“Is this how you hooligans set meetings? When I said I needed to speak with you, I didn’t expect you to bring your personal thug, Potter.”
Despite the light tousling of his hair and frozen position, Caelum Lestrange looked as composed as any pureblood heir. Leo could respect his ability to seem like he had just decided to stand very stiffly when most untrained wizards would keel over with that spell.
His magic told him to look closer.
“Well, you mentioned Leo in your message. And you can’t just expect to ambush me the next time I manage to get out of the house, right? Would you have sent another Howler potion?”
Something about Lestrange felt very frazzled. It made his magic act up like it had when he met Harry, but in a different way. Not quite opposite, like it did with Scar, just different.
“It was brilliant, wasn’t it?” The raven-haired boy smiled a beautiful kind of smile. Leo determinedly did not look at Harry’s reaction to the pretty pureblood. “It’s just one of the many innovations I’ve made with your technique.”
Potions. Right. There were two of them, and Leo was all too willing to rain on the parade of this one.
“So, you just happened to have that potion brewed and ready in a pocket? On the off chance you would meet Harry? Did you wait every day, hoping to catch her?”
Lestrange near-spluttered.
“That would have been stupid, but I guess I should have expected that from you, Hurst. A potion like that would have been too dangerous to imbue ahead of time.”
“Hmm, so you agree? You’ve been waiting every day trying to catch Harry Potter in the alleys?”
Lestrange actually spluttered this time. “Well, if you listened to my message—”
Leo took careful note of how the other boy was quick to respond with his mouth but made no effort to escape the jinx so far.
“The message you’ve been meaning to give Harry all this time? Not the insults you hurled at her in the shop? Interesting.”
Was that a twinge of guilt at his last sentence? Before he could test him further—
“Wait.” Harry stepped closer to Lestrange. “What do you mean, imbue ahead of time?”
“You’ll have to call your rabid dog off first.”
Harry sighed.
At her glance, Leo removed the jinx but kept the boy’s wand.
Lestrange didn’t even seem to remember it as he headed straight for a counter with aplomb, as if he hadn’t been frozen stiff just a second before. He dug a hand into his pocket. Leo kept alert, and was relieved to see Harry do the same.
Clinking followed his hand as it lifted from his trousers. A set of vials found their way to the counter, each with what Leo believed was the same potion, but he couldn’t identify what it was.
“The base potion?”
Harry picked one vial up, coming uncaringly close to the pureblood. So much for caution in the face of potions, right? Leo took one vial to examine, too, as a reason to come nearer.
“It has no spell,” Harry said in wonder, “but it feels like…”
With a zing, the vial turned red.
Leo raised an eyebrow. “Howler spell?”
“Hair-color changing spell,” Harry said before turning on Lestrange with a glint in her eye. “Delayed shaped-imbuing—did you—”
“Yes—”
“—and then instead of the—”
“—what else did you expect of my brilliance—?”
Leo let the Potions talk wash over him as he noted Lestrange’s hand twitching minutely. The other two seemed to be communicating partially on a different plane as they omitted words and ingredients like the recursive fic author had no idea what they were saying, too.
“You’re injured,” he said bluntly to the heir. “Your hands are shaking.”
An icy blue gaze snapped towards him.
“Is this the help you meant in your message, Caelum?” Harry interjected with concern.
“You could have easily found a Healer at St. Mungo’s. Why Harry? I’m sure you know she hasn’t been training to be a Healer at AIM these past four years.” Leo couldn’t help the suspicion that arose. His magic was on high alert, but that didn’t seem to be the message it was trying to tell him.
“We could take you to the Clinic. Is that why you mentioned Leo?”
The pureblood’s jaw clenched as they took turns asking him questions. Harry stopped sheepishly.
“Are both of you done?” Lestrange took one vial from the counter, and it zinged into a powder blue. He downed it quickly. His light tremors stopped.
“The shaking isn’t what I need help with. I can handle that by myself just fine, brat.”
Harry’s skeptical look told Leo exactly what he should think of that, but he wasn’t too concerned about the pureblood yet. If he would somehow find a way to hurt her, though, then that would be a different story.
“Don’t get too happy with the thought of me dying yet, Rogue.”
Harry started. Leo was unsurprised.
“Scar,” Harry realized after a second. “How much did he tell you?”
“Had fun buddying up with terrorists, Lestrange?”
“Like you two haven’t broken the law in your own ways. Willingly, at that.”
“What, just because you claim we’re all felons, we’re supposed to trust you? Admitting to being one yourself just does the opposite, bud.”
“Stop fighting, you two. What do you mean willingly? Did they coerce you to make the potions?”
Lestrange let out a breath.
In all the times Leo had seen the younger boy at the few Ministry events he had attended, he had seen a regular prideful pureblood. A bit more openly aggressive compared to the others perhaps, but that was probably the product of his separation from his peers at Hogwarts. Not like this. He looked like someone who had planted sweet Moondew but dug up Mandrake.
“They didn’t.”
Harry flinched, looking betrayed. Leo wanted to pick her up and leave the pureblood prince behind, but he knew he needed to listen to what he had to stay next.
“I sold the Liberespirare. You of all people should understand why I did.” He shot her a disgruntled look. “It wasn’t for them, but the sale advertised my skills. The fact that I was the only brewer on the continent who knew your stupid half-blood technique didn’t hurt, either.”
Lestrange let out a gusty exhale.
“At first, I treated it like a good theoretical and practical exercise. Like when I suggested brewing Coquere Cerebrum at Dartmoor.”
Leo shot Harry a look, eyebrows raised, but pulled his focus back to Lestrange. Even with the ruse reveal, he didn’t know everything. Harry might need protecting now more than ever, but he wasn’t going to make the mistake of judging her for actions she did or didn’t take. Plus, she was her own person.
“I had the thought—finally, I had the resources to do groundbreaking research. The recipe I made was practically perfect, Potter. Imagine creating a fully-functioning body from a potion!” he paused, and his tone softened with regret. “Tied with the ritual, it would have given him the body and magic to conquer Britain. If the impostor’s blood had been used in the ritual, he would have been a match for Riddle, and with the plans they had for more attacks, wizarding society would tear itself apart.”
“Then, why did you make it?!” Harry looked furious, her eyes tearing up with emotion. Leo remembered the terror of the final task, and the chill of realizing it had been Harry all this time facing danger down with only magic, sheer will, and a false name. He wanted to end this meeting and hide her away even more, but he knew she still wanted to listen, and it was his duty as King to listen to as willing an informant Lestrange seemed to be.
“I thought you would understand best.” Lestrange at least looked ashamed to admit it.
“I—Rigel could have very well lost his magic. People would have died, Caelum. You just said it would lead to the collapse of our world. You might have been born and bred a bigot, but that doesn’t excuse your actions at all! What will it take for you to realize you can’t just excuse it as being purely theoretical!” Harry’s words seemed to cut into the heir.
“It was, and then it wasn’t, alright? I wanted to stop, but then I met him, you brat. When he was still possessing that undead leech. He didn’t have much strength, but he knew a spell…”
Lestrange sagged. Harry almost reached out, but stopped herself before she could. Instead, she crossed her arms.
“From the way you speak, he didn’t Imperio you.”
“There are worse curses.” He clutched at his chest, almost doubling over.
Now that he was this close and was paying attention, Leo felt his magic twinge in what could only be sympathy. Before he could stop her, Harry had her wand out, sending diagnostic spell one after the other at the other boy. Her frown deepened.
“What did he do to you?”
“Give me my wand.” A resolute gaze found its way to Leo behind a curtain of dark hair. “I can show you.”
Leo didn’t trust the Lestrange boy one bit, but a glance from Harry told him he was going to give him a chance. A pointed glance of his own told her neither of them would let their guard down. Hawthorn returned to owner, he waited for the other to make a move.
A swish of the wand later, all three stared down at the vial-turned wooden chess piece.
“…you’re showing us a bishop, why?” Harry asked nonplussed.
“Look closely, brat.”
A flick later, and it was un-transfigured.
“Your magic is Light?”
Harry still looked confused, but Leo felt a deep discomfort echoed by his magic.
“Again,” he commanded.
The vial seamlessly transformed into a bishop. Another wave. The bishop seemed to implode back into a vial. Another swish. The vial exploded into a bishop. Flick. The bishop turned into a vial from the bottom-up in a transition as smooth as the last two were violent.
“What’s happening with your magic?”
Lestrange jumped and glared at Harry. Her green eyes seemed eerily bright in mid-afternoon.
“What did you just do?”
“I tried to send some magic out to your core to establish a connection.”
“And you didn’t ask permission? Honestly, I knew you were uncultured, but you surprise me every time.”
“What’s wrong with your magic, Caelum?”
“You’re just like a dog with a bone, aren’t you? Must’ve been how you created new potions, a dose of delirium and all that time in the slums—”
“Just tell us what’s wrong, or we won’t help you.” Leo stopped him before he could go on another senseless spiel again. Lestrange truly did not know how to interact with his peers, but he deemed him safe for now. The boy really did need help.
“It’s affecting my core.”
At his sharp intake of breath, Leo barely heard Harry ask, “So, your magic’s expressing itself differently?”
“It’s much worse than just reorganizing his magic, Harry,” Leo stopped her before the other boy could blow up. He remembered a story, long ago, from the alleys. It had told of a curse, too. “His magic isn’t tamed, so to speak, in the same way yours is. It might very well just up and leave him in the future. Think of it like a curse that inflicts the Fade, but on adults.”
“I—” Harry was taken aback.
Even Lestrange seemed like the strength had gone out of him. His words must have confirmed his suspicions.
Leo’s memories flashed back to the ritual that had almost taken the girl’s magic in one fell swoop. This curse was more insidious, destroying the system that maintained a wizard’s capacity to do magic. It weakened wizards as time went by, or…
“Was there a condition to the curse?”
“To make potions for him.”
“Just that?”
“The bastard gave me a quota I can manage, but the effect’s been a bit unpredictable. Shaped-imbuing has helped with control, though.” Caelum threw an almost grateful glance to Harry, who remained silent in shock. “I haven’t seen Voldemort since the ritual failed. The only good thing that impostor did was whatever that was at the end of the task. He hasn’t been able to add new commands.”
“Wait a second. How do you know this, Leo?” Harry looked wide-eyed between the two of them.
“There was a tale of one of the old Kings cursed like this. It was one of her enemies, looking to grab power indirectly. But before he could give her an order, he was killed. She died a few years after that, at what was supposed to be her prime. It was one of the times a King’s reign didn’t end with a loss in combat. The curse sounded just like the Fade. Thankfully, it seemed no one knew what it was, exactly. At least, until now.”
Harry looked deep in thought, like she was debating with herself. “Why do you think I can help with this?”
Even without knowing the answer herself, Leo saw the determination in her emerald eyes. He knew she would do everything she could to help the other boy. A heart of gold, that lass. He also knew he would be there to help her this time.
“Hermione, Archie, and I haven’t published any of our findings about the Fade, and there’s still a long way to go to cure it.”
“You’re working on a cure for the Fade? With those two?” Lestrange shook his head. He sat down on the nearest stool, seemingly drained by the meeting. “Next thing you’ll say, oh, Rigel was actually a girl”—Leo saw Harry flinch imperceptibly, at least to Lestrange, who kept going— “and that it was actually that muggleborn Granger. And that you took her place in the tournament.”
Harry opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, but Lestrange was not done. Leo almost felt amused.
“Though, of course, that wouldn’t explain how she didn’t make it to the end. You’re better than that muggleborn, I’m sure. If you had been in the tournament, then you probably would have …”
Before either of them could do more than sweatdrop at the turn his thoughts took, Lestrange abandoned that train of thought and continued naturally with, “I’m asking because I need to talk with your mother, of course.”
“…my mother?” Harry seemed just as lost as Leo felt. The other boy was full of surprises today, and it was only their first proper meeting. Curse he was determined to find a solution for aside, he wished once more that Harry didn’t have such questionable taste in friends, not unlike his thoughts the first time he had heard of her having lunch with him. Managing the alleys was less stressful.
“Her work with the Dark Defense Disk is groundbreaking, yes, but her research into the nature of magical cores is unparalleled, at least outside of the Department of Mysteries. That’s what my godfather told me, at least. I’ve been following her work for…” Lestrange trailed off at their expressions.
Harry seemed stuck in clueless confusion. Leo felt a grin trying to escape at the sneaking suspicion that came from his words.
“You don’t know your mother’s own work?” Lestrange sounded incredulous.
“…I thought she mostly did Charms research,” Harry sounded guilty.
“Well, this was in her early days at that company she works for, but how can you not know of this? It raised some questions in Society a few years back until the issue finally died down.”
“…I was busy with potions? Plus, this must have happened when you were a kid and I was a babe. I’ve never heard of that issue before.” Harry still seemed a bit displaced by the knowledge that Caelum Lestrange knew more about her mother than her.
“You certainly sound well-informed about Lady Potter, Lestrange. Of all the revelations today, you being her fan was the least I expected,” Leo couldn’t help but rib him. The splutters that followed dispelled the cloud of guilt that almost wrapped itself around Harry. “Plus, if I remember correctly, her findings struck another nail off the foundation of your blood politics.”
With a sneer, Lestrange pointedly ignored his words and said, “Of course I study the most notable developments in the other fields. I’m not stupid enough to think I don’t have anything to learn from the other disciplines.”
Leo had the curious sense that he was going to be stuck with two people who lied as naturally as breathing for the near future.
“So, you think Lily can help you?”
“You call Lady Potter Lily?”
Lestrange was definitely a fan.
“I’ll speak with her about it soon, and get back to you through Leo. Technically, I’m still grounded, so meeting anytime will be hard. Are you sure you don’t want to include Hermione in this? She’s a brilliant Healer.”
“And let a mudblood know such a weakness?”
“In case you forgot, Lily is also a mudblood, and she has quite a temper.”
Lestrange flinched. He imagined the boy was struck silent at the thought of Lily Potter’s anger directed at him. If Leo was going to have to deal with the boy’s tongue for an indefinite amount of time, he was looking forward to teasing him about this mercilessly. It seemed guaranteed to shut him up.
“In your letter, you mentioned Leo needed your help.” Count on Harry to remember their goals after this farce of a meeting.
With a shake of his head, the raven-haired boy pointed towards the vials.
“They’re planning on using shaped-imbued potions in a simultaneous attack on the alleys and the ministry.”
Leo felt his good mood evaporate.
“When?”
“Before the end of the summer.”